'For the last time, you look fine!'

'I'm nearly done!' Zach snapped. He'd not slept well during the night and was now letting his emotions get the better of him.

Mrs Garrett didn't look away from the living room window, even if she came across as a nosey neighbour to the outside world. No, she watched that bus stop like a hawk until the single-decked vehicle drove by without stopping.

'There, that's better.'

'Well, it doesn't matter now, Zach; You've missed your bus.'

Zach turned away from the front porch mirror and fluttered his eyes. 'You did say you'd take me, though.'

Mrs Garrett bore a look of exasperation. 'That was half an hour ago. If you hadn't spent all morning in the shower, I could have helped.'

'But-'

'No buts. Your father needs the car now.'

'Don't look at me,' Mr Garrett grumbled, only lowering the newspaper enough to peer at his pouting son. 'I'm heading out the door as we speak.'

'But you're still sat... Never mind,' Zach replied, turning to fuss over his fringe again in the mirror. 'I'll cycle there; it's only ten minutes away.'

'That's the spirit.'

'Well, it beats walking, dad.'

Mr Garrett shook his head, rolled from his worn-out recliner with effort and scooped up his car keys from the otherwise empty fruit bowl.

'Are you forgetting something?' Said Mrs Garrett, tilting her cheek.

Mr Garrett strode across the kitchen, placed one hand on the small of her back and the other at the top, and then swooped her off her feet.

She laughed again. 'What are you-'

'Look away, son.' Warned Mr Garrett as he planted a sloppy kiss on her neck.

Zach didn't need to be told twice, but before he could sprint out the door, his mother caught him. She licked her finger and brushed aside the hair he'd spent so long taming.

'That's more like it. I love the suit, by the way, very fetching.'

Zach flushed with embarrassment. 'You know it's dad's, so stop teasing.'

Mrs Garrett smiled and turned Zach's face until he met her gaze. 'I never say anything to you that I don't mean.'

'Yes, he does look handsome,' chuckled Mr Garrett, straightening Zach's tie. 'Now, good luck today. And no matter what happens, I'm proud.'

Mrs Garrett was wiping away tears when the cuckoo bird wall clock began to chime. It was eight-thirty, and Zach's interview was at nine.

'Alright, alright. I love you two, but you have to get moving! Go!'

Zach slapped the lucky number seven plaque on his door as he followed his dad outside, already making a beeline for the little garden gate.

'Don't forget your helmet.' Shouted Mrs Garrett, getting ready to move back inside.

Zach hated wearing the thing, but he wasn't a school kid showing off to his friends anymore. He knew it was for the best, so he triumphantly held it up to give his mum peace of mind. Then he began to fiddle with the combination lock that had his bicycle tied to the hinge of their wooden gate.

'Oh, and Stephen?'

Zach's dad turned before reaching the gate himself. 'Yes, Mrs Garrett.'

'Try not to run over the neighbour's plants today, will you? Eye Patch Betty says she's "going to bury you under the damn flower bed" if you do, and she scares me.'

Mr Garrett waved to his wife, then to the crazed, eye patch-wearing neighbour he knew would be watching his every move.

'Dammit, Zach, I told you to keep the code simple; something memorable.'

Zach shook his head and swiftly entered his birth year without looking at his dad.

'It's just the nerves, don't worry.' Mr Garrett said as he swung the rickety car door open and slumped into the driver seat to turn the ignition.

Of course, Zach couldn't help but look up when the car engine refused to tick over. The starting motor choked twice; the evening cold had seemingly gotten into it again. But, on the third attempt, it roared to life.

'There you go, you beauty!' Mr Garrett's joyful howling could be heard even through the hammering of Rusty's misshaped exhaust. He hadn't spotted what had come out of it yet.

The entire street was blanketed with black smoke, so Zach coughed mid-wave as his dad put his foot down and reversed instead of going forward.

A passing cat cried so loud that Zach assumed the worst, but when the car rocketed forward, it disappeared into the smog and left the waddling cat trailing behind. Presumably, it'd ducked at the right time.

Mrs Garrett whistled. 'I swear that man should not be allowed to drive.'

'You're telling me.'

'Zach, get moving; you're going to be late!'

'I know, I know.' He felt like a fool fastening the sticker-plastered helmet to his head, especially seeing how it was the same one he'd worn when he was fourteen. But, it was either that one or his mother's, and he had enough issues without adding sparkles to the mix.

Zach looked at his watch; he still had twenty-five minutes to get there. It wasn't great, but it was doable. So, he, too, put one foot down, then the other, and prayed that the clicking sound on the bike chain was there before.

Most of Hillgrove's car-owning residents had already left to beat the morning traffic, so Zach had the narrow road to himself.

The cool breeze had his face feeling chilly while the rest of his body was boiling from exertion, but he couldn't think about that now. He only had nineteen minutes to travel another mile or so.

Zach had spent the night before studying the route he'd need to take to reach Flurbury's, but he'd planned it from where the bus would have dropped him off.

Travel straight until I'm out of Hillgrove. Right, I've done that. Then I should come to the 'Gillybury crossroads. There you are.'

It was the worst-looking junction Zach had ever seen. Four roads branched off from one mini-roundabout, and there wasn't a single traffic light to maintain order. Everyone was out for themselves, where the hesitant drivers got screwed, and the maniacs barely avoided crashing.

Zach didn't have time to wait there, so he cut across a path that took him where he wanted to go anyway, and already he could hear the drivers cursing him.

'Thirteen minutes! Crap!' Zach started cycling so fast he felt his suit trousers catch in the bike chain, but he couldn't stop to check.

'Get off the path!' Yelled a bearded man in a golf buggy. He'd just pulled out of his driveway before swerving left and right.

Zach was terrified, so he quickly moved aside, but his heart sunk when he noticed the older man turn onto the same back road he needed. And yet, he finally spotted Flurbury's Museum Of Odds And Ends with eight minutes left. The place was enormous, a former estate he'd read, but it was also a dump. There were trash piles as high as his house in the surrounding fields and dozens of overflowing skips that'd been left to rust.

That didn't matter, though. What mattered was Zach making it to his interview on time. He skidded to a halt at the main entrance as his watch beeped for nine am, then quickly propped his bike against the wall.

'You can't leave that there! It's staff parking only. Move it or lose it.'

Zach wanted to walk away but couldn't. 'Sorry, I need to get inside. I have an interview, and I'm about to be late.'

'You're Tod Glarent?' The older man asked, climbing out of his buggy with a clipboard. 'I'm Clifford Tick, Assistant Supervisor here. You're skinnier than I'd imagined, but that's good. We've been looking for another chimney sweep for ages.'

'What?' Asked Zach in shock. 'The interview was for a steward. Please tell me I'm in the right place?' He didn't even want to ask about the former chimney sweep or why they were still allowed to have one.

Clifford plucked a raisin from his soup-stained beard and ate it. 'Right place? Yes. You're hired, Tod.'

'It's Zach Garrett.'

'Pardon?'

'It's... Never mind. Thank you for the opportunity. When should I start my first shift?'

Clifford laughed so hard that he spat out what was left of the raisin. 'You've already started, but where's your bag?'

'I didn't need my notes for the interview.'

'Good for you, Tod, but you'll need spare undies and a toothbrush if you plan to live here.'

Zach was so disoriented he could have fallen over. There'd been nothing in the job description about having to stay on-site, never mind sweep chimneys. Still, he needed the money, and it would only be for a few months.

'I'll get my mother to drop some things off later.'

'Excellent,' said Clifford, wiping his hands on his grass-stained trousers. 'Follow me; I'll show you around before we open to the public.'

Zach climbed the entrance steps, still looking back at his bicycle, his only means of escape until it disappeared from view. It was too late, anyway. Zach, or Tod as his new Supervisor called him, was an employee of Flurbury's Museum Of Odds And Ends, and he had no idea how.