'You know we're going to get a lot of complaints, right?'

Hilton frowned. 'I don't think we will. But either way, we can't afford to close the museum.'

'If it were up to me-'

Zach should have kept quiet because the Museum Manager looked ready to spit fire. 'Thank you for your input, but I will take it from here. Now, is that it? Or are you going to stand there offering more stupid suggestions?'

A host of angry retorts came to Zach; fortunately, none slipped past his lips. 'Amy told me I'm stewarding today?'

The lad hoped with every ounce of his being that he wouldn't have to be on the desk dealing with the horror show he knew was coming. And to his relief, Hilton seemed to be at least considering the question.

First, the Museum Manager looked at the tills, then the still flooded corridor. 'Okay. Amy will be back soon to watch the entrance hall, so I'll need you to patrol the exhibitions and check artefacts for water damage.'

Zach nodded slowly, realising that he'd been given a task that should have gone to someone with the qualifications to handle it. 'Is there some kind of disaster plan?'

Hilton slammed his fist against one of the sandbags. 'Just check everything's intact. Simple.'

'Got it,' Zach whispered between clenched teeth. He was eager to escape the man, but then he remembered something that couldn't wait. 'My parents are coming in for a look around the museum today. Do they pay full price?'

'No, they don't pay, so long as they don't try bringing along cousins, nieces, and nephews. Amy and Lana pull that crap every time, and I hate it!'

'It's just the two of them; thank you so much. If you see Amy, could you tell her they're with Clifford?'

Hilton laughed. 'She's going to love that.'

Zach hadn't thought about how the Supervisor would react, and he should have. Now he felt compelled to wait around. The last thing he wanted was his mother or father to get a damn shoe to the face or be shouted at like the troublesome pest escorting them would be.

'You're still here?'

Hilton's glare was all the motivation Zach needed, so the lad began tiptoeing through the deepening pool of water. After only a few feet, his trousers were soaking wet and sticking to his legs, but fortunately, his body seemed to acclimatise to the freezing temperature the more he moved.

When he eventually reached the nearby corridor, the water was so murky that he couldn't see beneath the surface. And if any artefacts had fallen to the floor, he knew he wouldn't find them until the place eventually dried out.

So, Zach hesitated, not wanting to stand on anything, sure, but also because the room he'd sworn against entering loomed close. Its door appeared warped, and with every step, he could hear creaking wood and the pitter-patter of water splashing upon metal. The lounge's ancient fireplace would have to be inspected.

As the lad walked into the room, the scent of damp grew so intense he almost keeled over. Then he spotted a giant crack in the right side stone wall stretching from floor to ceiling.

And it could have been his imagination playing tricks, but he was sure he could hear the building's foundations groaning under stress.

The destruction didn't stop there either. Blistered wallpaper was already peeling, and anything light enough that wasn't tied down was being swept away.

Zach couldn't bare to look at the space any longer, so he retreated into the corridor. Then he encountered Michael Blust, and the so-called Senior Volunteer was mopping the walls.

'I've got to ask.'

Michael looked over his shoulder but wouldn't stop pressing the wet mop head against every corner he could find. 'Yeah?'

Zach pointed again, hoping he wouldn't have to spell it out.

'Oh, this? I've found it to be the best way to get rid of nasty cobwebs.'

Zach's jaw dropped. 'The museum's flooding, man!'

'Let me do my job, and you do yours.'

Michael Blust turned his back, then, with some effort, pulled headphones from his pocket and carried on scrubbing. And the more he did, the more the paint began to smudge.

Horrified, Zach stepped backwards and almost bumped into someone trying to get past.

'Watch it!' the lady yelled. 'Jane! Patrick! Get back here!'

She was so annoyed with the children running away from her that she didn't even attempt to slow down. And her floral-patterned flip-flops squeaked with every step until she disappeared around a corner.

A few seconds later, Zach heard raised voices and more squelching footsteps coming from the museum entrance hall. It was Amy, and she was livid.

'Where did those little snots go?'

'Who?'

'The mother and her three pet demons, who else?'

'Three?' Zach repeated. 'I saw only two kids with her.'

Amy kicked the water in a fit of rage. 'Which way?!'

Zach pointed down the corridor, feeling guilty for not stopping the woman when he had the chance. 'We haven't opened, so I thought she was a staff member.'

Amy shook her head. 'And the children? Last I checked, we didn't have any working for us.'

'Right,' Zach sighed. 'Want some help?'

'No.'

The lad waited until Amy had gone before continuing his search. The water appeared to have leaked into the Catty Kite exhibition, but as he'd suspected, the door to it remained locked. So, having no place else to go, he spun around and marched back to see Hilton.

The Museum Manager hadn't moved from the entrance hall, but now he was re-merchandising the shop items next to the tills. There were toy ducks, watering cans, rain macks and a small selection of inflatable armbands he'd hung on a rusty spinning rack.

Zach didn't know what to say. Not only was his boss planning to go ahead with opening the flooded museum, but he seemed willing to capitalise on the tragedy in the strangest way possible.