Zach slowly opened the cafe doors. 'Hello? Lana?'

The lack of lighting made the place feel eerily abandoned. It was hard to believe it was almost one o'clock in the afternoon.

There was no sign that there'd ever been a lunchtime rush nor any apparent reason why the place was now empty. And Zach was about to leave to inform Amy when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the mop bucket tip over.

He should have run. Instead, he tiptoed inside to pick it up, and the closer he got, the more the temperature seemed to drop.

It wasn't until Zach felt a breeze upon his neck that he stopped still. He hastily checked the windows, and after noticing they were shut, he cautiously scooped up the bucket and set it back down.

Next, the lights started flickering, and Zach was ready to leave. But, just shy of reaching the doors, he heard someone wail like a banshee. He tried his best not to follow the voice, but curiosity had gotten the better of him.

'Lana?'

Nobody answered at first, but then the lights switched on, and the Catering Manager appeared behind the counter, clapping.

'You should have seen your face!'

Zach looked back at the bucket. 'Did you do that?'

'Do what?' Lana asked, sounding remarkably innocent.

'Tipped it over. The water went everywhere.'

She hissed between clenched teeth. 'You'd better clean it up before someone sees.'

Zach expected she'd say as much; he was already poised to do just that. So, he grabbed the mop and got started. 'If you didn't knock it over, then who did?'

Lana shook her head. 'It was probably a draft. Unless...'

'Unless what?'

The Catering Manager slumped forward until she was essentially lying on the counter with her chin resting in her hand. 'There are stories, Zach. Dark tales about this place going back hundreds of years,' she grinned. 'If you believe in that sort of thing.'

Zach rolled his eyes. 'Why have we closed? And don't tell me it's because of ghosts.'

She pulled a sandwich from under the counter and took a hungry bite. 'The food's gone, and we're out of milk.'

'Did you eat it?'

Lana laughed but confessed nothing. So, Zach continued swiping at every wet patch he could find. Then, satisfied, he dropped the mop back into the bucket head first and cleared his throat. 'Need me for anything else?'

Lana shrugged. 'If it were up to me, I'd tell you to finish early, but...'

'But, your sister would run me down.'

'Without hesitation. You should find the little gremlin first.'

'Find who first?' They didn't hear the cafe doors open, only the squeak they made when they shut. But, Amy stood with a stack of papers in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

'You've had your trial by fire today, and you did good,' she removed two chairs from a table and waved Zach over. 'Here's your contract; I'll need you to sign it.'

'What does a 'zero hours contract' mean?'

Lana chuckled. 'It means you work when they want you to, but you'd better forget about having job security.'

Amy snarled. 'Could you give us some privacy, please?'

Her sister rolled sideways off the counter, staggered to her feet, and then waved before retreating to the cafe kitchen with the remnants of her sandwich.

The distraction only lasted a minute, but it was all the time Zach needed to consider what the contract would mean for him. A job was a job, and he'd need whatever money he could get for buying books and food. After all, Colthorpe City was not a cheap place to live, and it wouldn't be long before he needed to move there if their university accepted him, of course.

Amy shifted in her seat. 'The loud-mouthed Catering Manager isn't wrong. Because you're leaving us in a few months, we thought it would be the smart option. It also gives you the flexibility to work shifts around your studies.'

Zach smiled. 'Makes sense. Honestly, I'm happy to be here making... ten pounds ninety-five an hour? That's fantastic.'

'Non-permanent staff tend to earn a little more, at least during the busy months.'

Zach immediately realised how rough those quiet months would be if he needed the money, but there was nothing he could do about it anyway. This contract was his, for better or worse. 'Where would you like me to sign?'

She tapped the bottom of the first page before flipping and doing the same on the one behind. 'If you could stick to the dotted line, that'd be great.'

'You have a spare pen?'

Amy picked a biro from her pocket and handed it over. The end had been chewed something fierce, and Zach half expected it to be dripping with saliva. Fortunately, it wasn't.

When that was done, she pulled a crumpled, handwritten note from the same pocket and began to inspect it. 'Could you bring your passport with you tomorrow? We need a photocopy for our records.'

'Of course.' Zach slid the signed papers across the table, and Amy handed him a duplicate.

'You can leave early today, but we'll need you in tomorrow working from nine in the morning until five in the afternoon, if that's alright? We've got nobody to steward the exhibitions.'

'That's fine.'

Amy unfolded another sheet of paper. 'Your rota for the week.'

'Why's the weekend marked 'Event'?'

'Pop-up farm. Hey, don't give me that look; it was your idea.'

Zach scratched his head. 'We'll only have three days to promote it.'

Amy tapped her smartphone screen several times to open an internet browser. The Flurbury's Museum of Odds And Ends website was colourful and packed with information about the upcoming event, but the bold comic book lettering threatened to melt Zach's eyes.

When Amy didn't say anything else, he slid his chair back and stood. 'I guess I'll catch you all tomorrow.'

The Museum Supervisor pointed at the cafe doors. 'Head out into the park, and cut across to the museum entrance hall. It'll save you ten minutes.'

'Thanks.'

Amy nodded but didn't even attempt to look away from her phone. So Zach left without another word.

The walk downstairs and outside took no time, but after being sat in the dimly lit cafe, the lad wasn't prepared for the sun. And the instant he opened the door, he was blinded by the light.

He stumbled across the grass, but to his relief, he still recalled where the emergency services team had come from earlier. At first, the door's warped-looking metal handle wouldn't budge, but after a second attempt, its cylinder lock jolted, and the entire thing swung free.

Zach feared he'd broken the door, so he raced ahead on his search for the entrance hall but, in doing so, found himself unprepared for what awaited him. The main museum doors were still ajar, but there wasn't a member of staff to be seen.

The desk was messy with empty bottles, crisp packets and a half-eaten bar of chocolate. And the till screen had strange brown streaks running down as if someone had spilt a coffee and forgotten about it.

That wasn't the end either; the till drawer had been left open, and new retail stock remained untouched on its pallet. Then Zach spotted some discarded coins littering the carpet. It was as if the place had been robbed.

'Hilton?'

'That's the first time I've been mistaken for that guy.'

Zach didn't recognise the man hiding behind the desk, and he wore no uniform or lanyard. He had spaghetti wrapped around his thick slug-like moustache, and whenever he opened his mouth, more of the sauce dripped onto his khaki t-shirt.

'Everything alright?' Asked Zach, knowing full well that it wasn't.

'Amy left me in charge down here.'

'Okay, and you are?'

'Michael Blust, Senior Volunteer.'

Zach grunted, forced a smile and walked straight past the rogue volunteer to get outside. It was his first day, and he wasn't paid to deal with crap like that.