'So, you think those things will sell?'

Hilton smiled. 'You'd be amazed at the kind of tatt people want to buy. Take Loftus; that guy collects and peddles farm air.'

'Seriously?'

'Yeah, he makes a killing online.'

Zach didn't know what to believe more, that Loftus knew about the internet or that he had an eye for marketing. But at this point, nothing surprised him.

'I guess it can't hurt to take a page from the big guy's book.'

'That would depend on what page; the contained air packages Loftus sells are the least weird of his stock, trust me.'

'Of course, they are. And knowing my mother, she'll want to buy it all.'

'Right, your parents are at his house,' Hilton made a face. 'Best of luck to them.'

'No kidding,' Zach leaned over the sandbag wall. 'You asked for a report, so here it is. The lounge around the corner is so trashed that it looks like something from a horror movie. If any artefact cases near the flood have so much as a hairline fracture in their glass, their fragile contents will be beyond salvaging. Your carpets will be ruined when they've dried. And then there's the Catty Kite exhibition.'

Hilton frowned. 'What about it?'

'I couldn't get inside to check, but the water's gotten under the door.'

'Well, the new plumber is on her way, so with any luck, we'll have the place airing out before lunch,' the manager stole another glance at his shop display before turning to face the lad. 'You still don't think we should have this part of the museum open to the public, do you?'

Zach hesitated, then decided it would be better to say something constructive now than nothing and regret it later. 'With a building the size of this one, there's got to be another entrance people can use?'

Hilton was about to answer when he spotted Amy frog-marching the family who'd snuck inside. So, he waited until they'd passed out of earshot. 'Of course, there's another way to get inside; it's just far from ideal.'

'It's got to be better than this.'

Amy looked questioningly at the manager when she returned, and the man shook his head. 'Zach's asking why we can't use the rear museum entrance.'

'Because it's a mess.'

Zach waved around. 'You're about to open this place up like a public swimming pool when it's a death trap. What's the difference?'

Hilton sighed. 'The route through the rear gardens and old wine cellar is inaccessible.'

Amy puffed out her cheeks. 'That's an understatement.'

'I'm sure it's not that bad.'

'Amy, go and show him, will you? He'd need to see it before long anyway.'

She checked her watch and held it high. 'We've only got twenty minutes. Are you sure you don't want me on the tills ready for-'

'Just go!'

Amy's face turned beet red, and she spun around without another word. Then she realised Zach wasn't following. 'You waiting for something?'

Zach knew his parents would be coming back soon and didn't want them to have to deal with Hilton in his foul mood. Of course, it wasn't like he could call the man on it, so he shook his head and climbed over the other sandbag wall to join her.

The pair turned right from the museum entrance, giving Zach a chance to appreciate the sheer size of the building. And while its architecture was complex on the inside, it appeared somewhat more simplistic from the outside, even with three rows of cobweb-covered windows.

'There's an attic?'

Amy pointed beneath the closest chimney stack. 'That's where mine and Hilton's offices are.'

'Bit of a strange place for an office.'

'The third-floor rooms are massive, and six run the length of the building.'

Zach had wondered where his superiors often fled, and now he knew.

The lad was still staring up at the top when he noticed somebody standing at a second-floor window with what appeared to be steaming hair straighteners in her hand.

Amy turned when she realised Zach had fallen behind again. Then she followed his gaze and burst out laughing. 'Karen!'

The lady in the window didn't look down. Instead, she clamped her hair with one hand while applying lipstick with the other.

'For crying out loud, Karen! You know that's not a mirror!'

The woman heard this time, and her jaw dropped before she stepped away in a hurry.

'Friend of yours?'

'Karen is an exhibition steward like you are today, only she likes to hide every chance she gets. And she has a habit of getting ready where everyone can see her!'

Zach pointed ahead, eager to move on. 'I'd wondered where the staff car park was, not that I can drive.'

'The road follows around,' Amy agreed. 'You'll find electric charge points, coach bays and bicycle storage too.'

'I had no idea.'

'Well, we would have mentioned them sooner-'

'Don't worry about it.'

Amy didn't, and as they approached the bike lockup point, the u-shaped metal frames brought Zach a feeling of nastalgia. They reminded him of the monkey bars he used to climb in Hillgrove's old playpark; only these were smaller, less graffitied and had two suspension bikes attached.

Beyond that were shrubbery bushes and tarmacked parking bays spread throughout a massive rectangular lot. There were ticket machines, warning signs, speed bumps, and, sure enough, electric charge points. And overhead were four powered-down street lights, but surprisingly no security cameras.

'This walk isn't bad,' Zach said with a gentle sigh. 'And we're closer to the car park.'

Amy raised her eyebrows. 'Just wait.'

The supervisor's blunt reply brought about a wave of anxiety, but the lad kept going anyway. 'Through here?'

The path they'd been following led to a heart-sculptured hedge with a sanded pallet gate in the centre. It'd been propped up to cover the gap.

Amy nodded, unable to suppress a grin. 'You first.'

Zach had to lift the makeshift gate out of the way, and then he saw the overgrown rear garden in all its glory.

The yellowing grass seemingly hadn't been cut in years. And whoever had created the space had been obsessed with the collection of gnomes. Hundreds were scattered around, and many wore mischievous expressions only partially disguised by growing moss.

It was easy for Zach to imagine them having a secret life that they had only stopped still to avoid arousing suspicion. Their painted-on clothes were dark blue and red like the museum carpets used to be, and many carried fake shovels, trowels and pots. And creepier still, dozens of them were as tall as the lad and seemed to be watching his every move.

'Freaky, aren't they?'

Zach couldn't look away from them; the fear that they'd suddenly spring from the tall grass they were hiding in to chase after him was real. 'They're the stuff of nightmares.'

Amy laughed. 'I'll tell Hilton you didn't like them.'

'Don't tell me he paid money for these.'

'Our boss makes them in his spare time.'

Zach noticed one gnome with carved bushy eyebrows, beaded eyes and a broad nose that stretched from ear to ear, and on its leg was a pricetag. 'Four hundred pounds?!'

'Don't look at me,' Amy said with another grin. 'They sell.'

'But what purpose do they serve?'

'If you ask Hilton, he'll say art needs no purpose. Whatever meaning a piece has lies within the eyes of the beholder.'

While Zach respected her point, he was so relieved when he spotted the final gnome ornament dangling from a tree branch that he ran ahead. Of course, his relief vanished when he swung the next gate open to discover another garden.

'Don't touch anything in here!'

'Why not? They're just plants. I'll take them over gnomes any day.'

Amy rushed to catch up and pointed first at a beautiful pink flower before moving on to several others. 'Foxglove, Hemlock, Monkshood and Belladonna. Do these mean anything to you?'

'They're all poisonous plants.'

'They're a shitshow is what they are, Zach. Clive Recksbud, the previous Head Gardener, decided to sew the soil with their seeds on his last day. Almost two years have passed, and no matter how hard we try, we can't get rid of them.'

'So, no access to the second entrance.'

The Supervisor glared back in disbelief. 'We weren't lying. Come on; you haven't even seen the worst yet.'