From Hostility to Love: A Workplace Romance Unfolds
In 1990, Alison Muir began a new job as executive assistant to the director and chief curator of the not-yet-opened Museum of Contemporary Art in Sydney. On her first day, she met Peter Thorn, the museum's publications manager. She smiled as she shook his hand, but he made no distinct impression. As she settled in, she felt he deliberately avoided her, chalking it up to his apparent conceit. With good looks and a confident swagger, half the female staff were infatuated with him.
One sweltering December day, Alison's desk fan blew a memo to the floor. As she picked it up, she noticed Peter walking by carrying a heavy box. Tall, blond, and wearing a white T-shirt that showed his tanned skin and strong arms, she suddenly saw how truly handsome he was. His offhandedness made him catnip, and she paid attention.
Flirtation and a Fateful Cake
After meetings, Alison would pop into Peter's office with leftover fresh coffee and shortbread. She gave extra-warm smiles and friendly hellos, but he wasn't overly keen on her attention. Then one day she mentioned his motorbike, and he asked if she'd like a ride. "Sure," she coolly replied. The next morning he brought an extra helmet, and by noon they were on an epic lunchtime ride to a harbourside park. He handled the curves like a pro, and when they reached the beach, he complimented her skills as a pillion. After that, they were much more friendly.
A few weeks later, Alison was grabbing lunch and spied a last slice of delicious-looking chocolate cake. Knowing Peter was a fan, she bought it and popped it into his pigeonhole with a friendly note dated 13 February 1991. She was photocopying when Peter came in to get his mail and found the cake. She smiled, waiting for his thanks. But his response was totally unexpected: he was furious. "How dare you write me a note, especially on the day before Valentine's Day! Stop flirting with me and leave me alone," he said. Incensed, she told him to sod off and stop thinking so highly of himself. It was only a piece of cake. She decided he really was arrogant.
The Tension Breaks
A couple of weeks passed with no unnecessary conversation. The tension was so great that a colleague once walked into the print room as they were separately doing tasks, then retreated with a knowing smile. In March, they still weren't speaking. Then Alison was tasked with refiling an ad hoc system, spreading files across the floor before re-cataloguing. She was sitting in the middle of this mess when Peter appeared with a notebook and coffee on his way to a meeting. She thought: if he cuts across, it's love; if he goes the long way around, it's war. She looked at him, not unkindly, when he started picking his way through the files. She smiled and said hello. He smiled back and said hello. It was love with no turning back.
By April they were engaged, and in September 1991 they married. They were incredibly happy even though they were thought of as opposites. Peter was observant and serious as well as a risk-taker, artist, book collector, and wine connoisseur. Alison was more social, always ready for fun, and possibly a little careless. According to Alison, "Peter made me more thoughtful and diplomatic. Even through very tough times, our bond was strong and our love endured. We laughed every day, enjoyed the thrill of dancing in the kitchen, and our three gorgeous sons brought us so much joy." Their youngest son Jack, also an artist, now works at the Museum of Contemporary Art.
A Love That Lasted 34 Years
For 34 years they were there for each other. Then in May 2025, Alison's brave, beloved Peter died from Parkinson's. He did tell her that when he met her, he immediately thought, "She's trouble" and made sure they only spoke if it was work-related—because the moment he saw her he knew he could love her. Sometimes he'd playfully call her "Trouble." But trouble or not, true love always finds a way.
