The door cracks open and a girl peeps out, eyes sweeping the vicinity. Flanked by doric pillars and capped with an ornate fanlight, it's the kind of door that's never open to me. This is the nice part of town. A flight of granite steps leads up to the door and the traditional red paint is fresh and bright against the greyness of the day and the imposing stone facade. How does it feel to be wealthy enough to live behind a door like that? Do all your worries disappear when you've that kind of solidity to protect you from the outside world?

I wait for her to emerge under a large umbrella, in one of those expensive trench coats rich girls wear. Instead a flurry of booted, swirling black eases through the door, closing it soundlessly behind her. She has a small, collapsible umbrella. She struggles for a moment to open it, then with a final furtive glance, offering a glimpse of a white heart-shaped face and red lipstick, she darts down the steps and disappears around a corner.

Just then, the church bell tolls, its loud clang making me jump. It's a big church, almost a cathedral, and its soaring spire is the main landmark of the town. The sound vibrates into the air, reminding me I need to hurry. I can't be late for my first day in the new job.

In the grey drizzle, everything blends together. Like most Irish towns, the main street of Drimshanra is long and lined with bumper to bumper traffic. June is almost over but the weather has been so cold and unrelenting that summer still feels so far off. In fact, I'm beginning to wonder if it somehow bypasses the town completely.

A short cut leads along the river past empty stretches of derelict warehouses, but I don't like going into town that way. Covered in graffiti, the boarded up buildings remind me of where I've come from. Walking down Main Street takes longer but feels safer.

As soon as I pass through the automatic doors, the comforting warmth of the town shopping centre welcomes me inside and I make my way to More Video 4U with a smile on my face. My watch and the big clock over the centrally located café both tell me I'm ten minutes early, which is exactly what I've aimed for. It's important to make a good first impression, especially since jobs are so hard to find in Drimshanra and I'm on a trial period.

More Video 4U is a large unit down one of the side aisles. A bell chimes as I push the door open and Andy, the manager, looks up.

"Tully Cabe, right?" he smiles when he sees me, "Here, I'll show you what to do."

I follow him through the racks of video files as he explains how they are arranged. The sleeves are empty, for display purposes only.

"We put all the sleeves back on the shelves when they come in," he explains, "that way our customers know what we have in stock. If there's no sleeve on the shelf, it means all the copies are out. Of course, most of the time we only have one copy, unless it's a big hit."

I nod. It's all familiar to me because I've grown up going to various branches of More Video 4U and they all look the same – large and brightly lit, aisles arranged by genre. Thrillers, classics, romcom, noir, whatever mood you're in, whatever kind of film you like, the promise of escape is always there, waiting for you.

"And remember," Andy's voice turns urgent, "if somebody hasn't got their membership card, no matter what excuse they give you, you can't let them have a video."

"Right!" I nod, but he must catch a trace of doubt in my voice because the smile leaves his face.

"I'm serious, kid. People will tell you anything, and some of the excuses will break your heart, but they're only scamming. It's more than your job's worth to listen to them."

Then he takes me behind the counter to show me the drawers where the videos are stored and explain how to use the cash register and the computer with the customer database.

"But if all their information is in here, surely we can just check who they are if they forget their card?"

"Yeah?" Andy says. "Okay, my name is Sean Costello and I live at 17 Ardmore Close."

Yes, I tap a few keys on the computer, eager to show Andy the one thing I do know how to do. "Found you!"

"Except I'm not Sean Costello," he shakes his head sadly, "place like this, where everyone is broke, petty theft is rampant. People borrow under someone else's name and we never see the video again. So yeah, make sure they have their card!"

"Right," I feel like I've failed a test, "got it."

The afternoon is quiet. Mainly groups of schoolgirls dropping in to browse and giggle in the aisles. They leave without getting anything.

"Lots of youngsters like hanging out in here, makes them feel grown up," Andy explains, "but they are better for business than you might think because they always find something they want to watch, and then they pester somebody to rent it for them later on, another reason we need to be particular about cards. Listen, I'm going to slip out for a while, before it gets busy."

"Oh!" I wasn't expecting to be left on my own as soon as this.

"Are you able to do the job or not?" An edge enters his voice.

"Sure, I think I've got the hang of it." It's not the job is difficult, just I haven't had much chance to practise yet.

"That's what I like to hear," Andy slaps my shoulder. "There's plenty of people looking for a handy number round here." This time the threat isn't veiled.

"Take as long as you like. I'll be fine."

"Good man, Tully!" He nods in approval.

He's only gone ten minutes when the girl I saw coming out of her house earlier enters the shop and shakes off her umbrella. It didn't do much to keep her dry. Her jeans are plastered to her legs and I look away quickly in case she thinks I'm staring.

She heaves a deep sigh and I remember my job.

"Hey," I step out from behind the counter, "how can I help you?"

"Just looking," she replies.

"A copy of Titanic has just come back." I'm pleased with myself for thinking of it. Copies of Titanic are like gold dust.

"Are you seriously trying to be helpful?" She rolls her eyes, turns into one of the aisles and stares at the Pick of the Week section.

"How about that?" I point at a Men in Black poster. If she doesn't like Titanic, maybe she'd prefer something funny and offbeat.

But she's already seen it.

It's becoming clear she doesn't want to talk to me and I don't want her to think I'm harassing her.

"You're not from here, are you?" she asks as I edge away.

"No." I stop in my tracks. "We just moved down. From Dublin."

"What do you think of Drimshanra?"

That's a hard question to answer. Even though I hardly know the town at all yet, my first impressions couldn't be described as positive, but she lives here and I'd hate to sound critical of her home.

"It's different, takes a bit of getting used to." I glance around, desperate to change the subject. "Here, you might like this." I hand her a video sleeve, 'LA Confidential' with Russell Crowe and Kim Basinger. "It's darker."

She shakes her head and moves on, leaving me standing in the middle of the aisle, not sure if I've been dismissed or if I should follow her, when I hear her call, "I'll take this one."

She pulls down a copy of 'Strictly Ballroom' and brings it over to me.

"Nice," I say with a smile I hope is professional, "excellent choice! That finale, the way he slides out across the dance floor. It has to be one of the best entrances ever."

I take the sleeve from her and bring it over to the cash desk. "And even once they're out there, on the floor, it keeps going wrong, with all the interruptions."

I'm still babbling as I root in the drawer for the video cassette when my hand flies to my mouth, wishing I could stuff the words back in. "Oh no, I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking and now I'm spoiling it for you."

"It's alright, we've seen it before."

"Really?" My fumbling fingers finally fit the cassette into the case.

"Yeah, no big deal," she says as I go to ring it up.

Feeling like an idiot, I ask for her membership card.

"Um," she flushes furiously, "I forgot my card but you should be able to find it on the computer."

We're not allowed to do that. The excuse dies on my lips. I've made enough of a fool of myself already. "Sure, what's your name?"

"Kit Lawless," she replies. "7 St Lawrence Place."

Kit, I mull it over to myself, wondering what it's short for. It suits her I suppose, with her dark hair and pointy face. Oh no, this is a nightmare. "Um, it's not coming up."

"Try Felice Carr!"

The name appears immediately and I look at Kit in confusion, uncertain what to do. This is exactly what Andy warned me against.

"Just let me pay for it, right?" She thrusts a five pound note at me.

I've no choice, I can't refuse. Praying Andy won't pick this moment to come back, I count out the change and hand her the video with a weak smile. "Hope you enjoy it, again!"

"Thanks," she replies, "welcome to Drimshanra."

I watch the door long after she's gone, lost in thought. Part of me is hoping the video will be returned and I won't lose my job. It should be my main worry, but for some reason, my head is full of the girl, wondering if I'll see her again.

Kit Lawless. The name suits her, but she can't be a regular since she doesn't have a card.