'Loftus!'

Zach didn't want to walk too far down the dirt track because he suspected that the hellspawn dog, Lanton, would pounce at any second. So, he stood his ground and awaited a response. What he didn't expect to see was half a dozen Llamas dressed in colourful cotton coats with ear-flap hats walk up to the wood fencing.

Then as the tatty-haired bunch drew Zach's attention, Loftus reached through dense bushes to grab his arm. 'Hah! You can tell Amy I didn't need her help after all.'

'What the hell?!'

'You should have seen your face.' Loftus bellowed, munching on a rhubarb stick.

Zach turned around and marched away. 'I'll pass on your message to Amy.'

'You do that, boy.'

Zach could still hear Loftus clacking his gums, and he could feel him staring at his back, so before the man could try something else, Zach ran.

Fortunately, Amy wasn't hard to locate; she'd retained her spot at the museum entrance and now held binoculars to her eyes. 'I spotted Clifford. I know I did.'

Zach tried not to grin; the whole situation was ridiculous, but he'd rather deal with that than creepy Loftus. 'You wanted me in the Café?'

'Yes, please,' answered Amy without looking his way. 'Turn left out of here, down Bucklebrick corridor, then take the first right, then your next left after the Taxidermy Tales display.'

Zach knew he wouldn't receive more guidance than that, so he moved through the entrance lobby with eyes widened, hoping to take at least some of it in. However, the museum was so huge that he felt he'd never learn where everything was, no matter how hard he tried.

Unable to resist the urge, Zach glanced right to see yet another corridor with several adjoining rooms, but he swiftly came to his senses and turned his attention left. Bucklebrick corridor had red walls, gold coving running along the tops, and an original hanging multi-layered chandelier every ten feet. Even the floral decorated rug seemed to roll on forever.

Apart from closed doorways lining the left wall, wall-mounted paintings covering the right, and the occasional table and chairs, there wasn't much else for visitors to explore. At least that's what Zach had thought until he took the first right.

"The Hillgrove Hikers" exhibition had no visible text panels, nor had Zach discovered any revealing sign posts along the way; the entire display was a mystery.

And calling it an exhibition was charitable when the preserved items included pairs of dirty, holed socks and stacked wood-carved walking sticks. Even the displayed boots were so worn they put Zach's to shame.

Somebody out of sight deliberately coughed when they heard Zach approach. 'You know, some of those socks belong to me, but do I get mentioned for donating them? Of course, I don't. Amy would rather I crawled into a corner to die than be remembered for anything I'd done.'

'Clifford? How the hell did you get in here? And why are your socks on display?'

'You're from Hillgrove, and you've never heard of the hikers! We used to walk hundreds of miles every week, climbing the steepest slopes, running across the vastest plains,' Clifford stepped out from behind the case and pointed again at his socks. 'We're supposed to remember our local heroes, Zach. Most of my fellow hikers are gone, but so long as this case remains, so too will their memory.'

Zach nodded with a smile. 'I'll remember. Now, how did you get past Amy? She'll want to know.'

Clifford laughed and opened the door next to him with a key he likely shouldn't have had. Then before Zach knew what was happening, he heard an engine roar to life, and the older man shot out on his buggy, but the table next to the door was in the way.

The vehicle clipped the table leg and caused a porcelain vase to rock back and forth before smashing on the laminated wood floor. And the doorway was barely wide enough to fit the thing, so Clifford put his foot down, and the buggy wheels scraped the skirting boards so hard it caused the wood to splinter.

Zach was torn between chasing the old pest or doing the job he'd been given, but after a few seconds spent staring at the ridiculous sock case, he moved away. 'If Amy wants him, she can find him.'

The lad was still mulling that over when he glimpsed yet another exhibition case a few feet away. He'd only been able to spot the case's black-panelled side from where he'd been chatting to Clifford and hadn't thought the museum could get any weirder.

Six glass shelves held devices so strange in appearance yet familiar to the eye. One resembled a whisk, with a cracked cable trailing behind, while another was barely the size of a human finger, but its metallic case was shiny and smooth.

'Victorian Pleasures,' Zach read, inspecting the case's only sign. 'What does that mean?'

Despite being needed elsewhere, Zach couldn't help but stare in awe at the weird machines. At least he did until he found the clockwork-powered dildo and felt his face flushing red. Barely a second later, he staggered away, hoping nobody had seen him and braced himself for the worst when he approached the next case.

But, alas, Taxidermy Tales was a much more comfortable subject by comparison. Again, there were another six glass shelves, but instead of crude devices, he found stuffed animals with short stories written next to them. His gaze rested on Monty, the squirrel.

'Monty, the Victorian squirrel, would often pose for photographs with his mother and wouldn't try to run away, even after sitting for hours in front of the camera.'

Next to that was Belgrin the Badger, and Zach couldn't work out why it was wearing a green V-neck sweater until he read the small text. 'Belgrin loved his Victorian father so much that he'd often help him till the fields, and the feeling was mutual. Farmer Hutherington would regularly take his pet badger to social gatherings, and the creature would be as well dressed as he was.'

Zach stopped on Murdock, the owl and chuckled; its wingspan was so long it took up the entire bottom shelf. The creature had also been a Victorian pet, but its text made for a short read, "Did not play well with others, but was loved all the same".

Suddenly, Zach heard a radio crackling and took off running. And the sharp left turn took him directly to the cafe's double doors. Peering through the slitted windows revealed several still-stacked tables, left-out buckets of water, sweeping brushes, and a harried-looking member of staff he'd not yet met.

The lady stood still, watching the wall-mounted ticking clock and chewing her lip. Then as the cafe doors swung open, she turned with a well-practised smile only to immediately drop it when she realised it was Zach and not a customer.

'You're the new one Amy sent.' The white-haired lady made it a statement rather than a question.

'I'm Zach, pleased-'

'Great, about time. Get your gloves and an apron on. You're on sandwich duty first.'

Zach frowned. 'I'm not qualified. Amy told me to take orders-'

The lady grinned and pressed a button on the coffee machine, and when the grinder powered up, she pointed to her ears and shook her head.

'I said-'

She hit the grinder button again.

'Come on,' Zach yelled. 'Give me a break.'

The lady stopped laughing when two customers walked through the doors. 'Sandwiches, Zach. Or you can tell Amy you quit. It's your choice.'

Zach inwardly fumed. The supervisor, whoever she was, hadn't given him a choice, not really; she knew he couldn't quit because why else would he be working at a dump like Flurbury's if he had someplace else to go. No, she'd taken a gamble, and it'd paid off, and now the new starter would have to do as she'd said if he wanted to survive his first day.