Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
CATH
‘ I t’s a miracle!’
Cath didn’t know who she was talking to. She was working alone in the empty museum… but she couldn’t let this moment pass without marking it somehow.
Her first box of the day was officially empty!
Day two at her new job was going well so far. Of course, it helped that she’d actually been able to let herself in without having to call for assistance. Andy’s wiggle-trick with the old key seemed to be a sure thing. It also helped that—unlike yesterday—she knew exactly what she was walking into. The museum was still an absolute disaster zone, but at least she was prepared for it. Plus, she now had a bit of a plan.
The previous day had been… overwhelming.
After leaving Andy and Heather at the bakery, Cath had returned to the museum, but she didn’t manage to get much done. She’d found it impossible to figure out where to start. By the time lunch rolled around, she’d called it a day and headed back to the flat.
After edging between her own piles of cardboard boxes, she’d flopped down onto the patchwork sofa and indulged in an afternoon nap. As if by magic, she’d woken up with a plan of attack for the museum. A plan that was simple and straightforward. She’d dug out her journal and scrawled it down so that she couldn’t forget its brilliance.
Now, the torn-out page was folded in Cath’s back pocket like a talisman against getting overwhelmed. Reaching for it, she pulled the page out and unfolded it carefully.
One box at a time.
‘So far, so good!’ she said with a smile, returning the note back to her pocket for safekeeping.
Grabbing the pair of scissors she’d brought with her from the flat, Cath broke down the empty box so that she could stash the cardboard near the door, ready for recycling. It felt ceremonious, somehow.
‘Only about three hundred thousand more to go,’ she chuckled, carting it towards the entrance and leaning it up against the wall.
Cath glanced longingly at the door. She’d closed it on her way in, but now she was tempted to open it up again. She could do with letting a fresh breeze in to combat the fusty smell of stale air and newly disturbed junk.
Wiping her hands on her jeans, Cath grabbed the heavy old door and pulled. Beams of golden sunlight full of dancing dust promptly flooded through the gap.
‘Fresh air!’ cheered Cath.
Hmm… maybe it wasn’t the best idea to leave the door wide open while she worked, though? But this was Crumbleton, not London. She was sure she’d be completely safe. That said, she wouldn’t put it past curious visitors to just wander in… and she definitely wasn’t ready for that yet.
Turning to search for a solution, Cath’s eyes came to rest on an old plastic school chair balanced precariously on top of a stack of suitcases.
‘Perfect!’
She grabbed it and propped it in the doorway with its back to the outside world. There. That should at least slow down any unwanted visitors!
A bit of fresh air was such a simple pleasure, but there was no way Cath would have even considered doing such a thing back at the gallery. For one thing—the air in the capital wasn’t exactly what you’d call fresh! But there was also the safety side of things to consider.
The gallery had boasted a sophisticated alarm system, which was a total nightmare to deal with. Even when they were open, there had been a security guard posted outside the door, and they’d had a wealth of panic buttons to choose from too.
‘Ridiculous,’ muttered Cath, weaving her way back through the box maze to where she’d been working. Why anyone in their right mind would want to burgle the gallery was beyond her. Sure, some of the splodgy paintings and sculptures had been worth hundreds of thousands of pounds, but just the idea of someone trying to half-inch a chunk of metal that looked like someone’s first welding lesson was just… funny.
Even though she’d worked there for years, Cath didn’t think she was going to miss the gallery for a second. Sure, this was different, and it was definitely going to be quite a challenge… but it could be a lot of fun, too.
Patting the note in her pocket again, Cath smiled. One box at a time. It was time for the next one.
Rolling up her sleeves, she eyeballed the next likely candidate and flipped open the flaps. It was a box full of empty jam jars along with several dozen rusty lids.
Cath grinned. If she made this into a game, the time would fly by. She’d have three categories: Display. Store. Dispose.
Easy peasy!
‘Dispose!’ she cheered, hauling the box into her arms and tucking her hands under the bottom just in case it decided to fall apart on her way back to the door.
‘Hello?’
Cath jumped, let out a little squeak of surprise and fumbled with the box. The jars clanked ominously as she hugged the whole lot tightly to stop it from slipping.
‘Andy!’ she gasped.
‘Sorry, sorry!’ he said, looking mortified. ‘I didn’t mean to make you jump, but the door was open. I thought I heard you talking to someone?’
Cath winced. ‘Just myself!’
‘Woman after my own heart,’ said Andy, holding out a takeaway cup. ‘Anyway, swap you?’
‘You do realise you’re in serious danger right now, don’t you?’ said Cath, relaxing slightly as her eyes rested on his strong, rough fingers curling around the cardboard cup.
Don’t be weird. Don’t stare!
‘Danger?’ said Andy. ‘How?’
‘Start bringing me treats and I’ll get used to it,’ said Cath, smiling at him.
‘Well… that doesn’t sound so bad,’ said Andy with a shrug. ‘I wasn’t sure what to bring you. Is a latte alright?’
‘Pretty perfect right now!’ said Cath. ‘I think I’ve already had about a dozen too many cups of tea this morning. Thank you… for thinking of me.’
‘Of course,’ said Andy easily, setting the cup down on a ledge so that he could take the box from her. ‘Anyway, the drink gave me an excuse to check you hadn’t been buried alive under a pile of boxes.’
‘Still alive and kicking,’ said Cath, taking a grateful swig of hot coffee. ‘And refuelled, thanks to you!’ she added, saluting him with the cup.
Andy grinned at her. ‘Where were you heading with this?’
‘Near the door somewhere,’ she said. ‘I’m making a pile of things to be recycled. I’m sorting everything into three categories—display, store, dispose.’
‘And this is in the dispose pile?’ he said with interest.
‘I think I can safely recycle a box of old jam jars without the fear of accidentally chucking away anything of historical importance,’ she said.
‘You sure?!’ said Andy, his eyes going wide.
‘I… well… I was, but…’ spluttered Cath, instantly second-guessing herself. Was she being too gung-ho with the town’s treasures?
‘Relax,’ chuckled Andy. ‘I was joking. I’ll get rid of this for you.’
‘Cheers!’ said Cath, waving him off. ‘And thanks again for the coffee.’
‘I’m not planning on going anywhere just yet… unless you want me to clear off?’ said Andy. ‘I’ve got a couple of hours free if you’d like an extra pair of hands?’
‘Well, I’m not going to say no to a bit of free labour!’ said Cath.
‘Cool,’ said Andy. ‘Be right back.’
Cath turned away from him, clutching her drink and doing her best not to start overthinking things. Part of her really wanted to prove that she could conquer this new challenge on her own. After being under her ex’s thumb and subject to his annoying whims the whole time she’d supposedly been in charge of the gallery, she needed to know that she could stand on her own two feet.
But… that didn’t mean she had to be pig-headed, did it? She liked Andy. He seemed like a kind, thoughtful guy, and he was easy company. Besides, clearing out enough rubbish so that she had some space to start work in earnest was a priority… and something she’d achieve a lot faster with some help.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that Andy improved the view no-end.
‘Erm… Cath? Where are you?’ called Andy.
‘Here!’ Cath laughed. ‘Behind the boxes!’
‘That really helps,’ said Andy, appearing around the corner, his eyes crinkled with laughter. ‘This place is ninety-nine per cent boxes!’
Yup, definitely a very fine view!
Andy had stripped out of the top part of his overalls, and he’d tied the arms around his waist. Underneath, he was wearing a soft grey tee shirt… and Cath would swear she could see the outline of defined muscles through the cotton. His arms were bare and tanned and…
‘Big,’ she sighed.
‘Pardon?’ said Andy.
Cath widened her eyes. Oh no no no!
‘Big… erm… mess!’ she amended hastily, tearing her eyes off him and nodding at the tallest tower of boxes.
‘Yeah. So… where do you want me to start?’ said Andy, folding his arms and practically making Cath swoon in the process. Somehow, she just about managed to stay upright.
Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for the leaning tower of boxes, and they chose that exact moment to give way.
‘Watch out!’ gasped Cath, leaping towards Andy and shoving him backwards, out of their path.
‘Hi!’ he said, blinking at her in surprise.
Cath was suddenly aware that she had him pinned at an odd angle against a table piled high with dusty lampshades.
‘Nice reflexes,’ he said. ‘Thanks for that!’
‘You’re… erm… you’re welcome,’ said Cath.
Her hands were resting on his chest… and she’d been right. He was solid underneath his soft tee shirt. And warm. And he smelled nice too.
Cath swallowed and pulled away from him.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered.
‘Don’t apologise for saving me from that lot,’ he said, straightening up and peering at the crumpled heap of cardboard, broken glass and random rubbish all over the floor. ‘I had no idea working in a museum could be so dangerous. Maybe I should have brought my hard hat!’
‘Maybe,’ said Cath vaguely. She blinked stupidly, trying to pull herself together and get her mind off Andy’s body and back onto the job. ‘Erm, I meant to ask… why do you have to wear a hard hat anyway?’
‘Health and safety gone a bit mad,’ said Andy with a shrug. ‘Mind you, I’ve been glad of it these last few weeks.’
‘Why’s that?’ said Cath, not meeting his eye as she nudged a couple of bits of glass with her foot.
‘Flying cola cubes,’ chuckled Andy.
‘Huh?’
‘Kids,’ said Andy.
‘Oh,’ said Cath.
‘So… anyway… where are we going to start?’ said Andy.
‘Well, this seems like as good a place as any,’ she said, pointing at the recent box-slide and still avoiding his eye. ‘Just watch out for any more avalanches!’