Page 10 of Match Point in Crumbleton
‘Oh, sorry!’ she gasped.
‘My fault!’ muttered Andy. ‘You go ahead. It’s the top two rows you want, and then the middle two switches on the fourth.’
‘Okay… I… okay…’ said Cath.
‘I’ll run outside and start bringing in the boxes,’ he muttered, practically jogging away from her before he could do anything else to embarrass himself.
CHAPTER 5
CATH
Finding space for the sofa and random junk from outside hadn’t been as easy as it sounded. Thank goodness for Andy’s help. Cath wasn’t entirely convinced that she’d have managed it on her own. Together, they’d shifted a few things around inside so there was just enough floor space for the new additions.
Now that Andy had left her to it—with a promise to buy her a “welcome to Crumbleton” fruit slice when she needed a break—Cath finally had the chance to take a breath and have a proper look around. Up until that point, she’d simply been too distracted. Andy’s presence had been… all-consuming.
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ she muttered, turning on the spot as she surveyed the chaos around her.
Idiot or not, she knew what her hot cheeks meant. She’d basically been blushing continuously from the moment Andy had said his first “hey”. When his hand had landed on top of hers as they’d both reached for the light switches… well, put it like this, she’d be contacting an electrician to check those things were safe. There simply had to be a fault, because there was no way a bit of fleeting contact with Andy’s warm, rough fingers could have caused that many sparks.
Besides, Cath wasn’t interested. Not in men, or dating, or men… or dating. Or any kind of romantic relationship. At all. Possibly ever again.
It doesn’t have to be romantic though, does it? It could just be physical!
‘Shut up shut up shut up!’ she muttered at her inner floozie, pushing her hair back off her burning face. ‘Focus!’
Cath thrust all thoughts of Andy firmly to the back of her mind. She had a sneaking suspicion they wouldn’t stay put for long, but right now, she had a job to do.
Picking her way through the jumble of boxes in front of her, Cath started to survey the scene properly for the first time. In a way, she was glad she’d accepted the job without having a look around first because this was… a lot. So much so, that anyone volunteering to take it on after seeing it would have to have some kind of screw loose. The sheer scale of what she was going to have to contend with was overwhelming.
It wasn’t just the mess of boxes and donations that was the problem either. It was the fact that there didn’t seem to be any kind of logic to the museum. At all.
Cath was pretty sure there were display cases in there somewhere, hidden deep behind teetering piles of unidentified stuff—but other than the occasional tell-tale gleam of glass here and there, they were practically invisible from where she was standing.
Wondering if she should leave a trail of breadcrumbs so that she’d be able to find her way back out, Cath started to edge her way deeper into the room. It took some doing, and it wasn’t long before she had to tie her cardigan around her waist.
‘Ah ha! An actual display!’ she cheered as she rounded a tower of junk only to spot the side of a glass case in front of her.
Weirdly, it looked like it held a collection of sports memorabilia. There was a wooden tennis racket similar to the one that had been waiting for her on the sofa outside, and a couple of old, motheaten balls. What tennis had to do with Crumbleton’s history was anyone’s guess… but it looked like the collection had been put together on purpose. Then again, it could just be a bunch of random tat that had been thrown into a cabinet to get it out of the way.
Clambering over a couple of boxes so that she could take a closer look, Cath cupped her hands against the dusty glass and peered inside. She could only see the top couple of shelves. There was a pair of grubby shorts pinned to a disintegrating backboard, along with a couple of very unsavoury-looking sweatbands.
Cath wrinkled her nose and stepped back again. For some reason, she’d been expecting to find a lot more maritime memorabilia and old fishing gear, what with Crumbleton’s coastal connections. There was definitely a net in the case… but it wasn’t the kind she’d been anticipating… and it looked like it would take about a decade to get it untangled.
‘Where am I meant to start?’ said Cath, turning away from the tatty tennis gear and nearly breaking her neck on an ancient-looking piece of machinery that had splatters of white paint all over it. ‘Sorry, old thing!’ she muttered, giving one of the handles an apologetic pat. She might not know what it was, but it was the first thing she’d seen in here that actually looked like it belonged in a museum!
Picking her way back through the maze, Cath started to look more closely at the state of things. It was a real mess, but at least there didn’t seem to be any signs of water damage or things being chewed by mice… or worse.
Cath shuddered and pulled a face at the thought. In a weird way, it was a bit of a shame. Even though she didn’t fancy having to deal with a bunch of furry, chew-happy squatters, they might have made things a bit simpler. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to have to thin down this collection quite a bit… and a spot of water damage or some thorough chewing might have given her the perfect starting place to start binning a few things.
No such luck!
Now and again, Cath stopped to shift a box or inspect a piece of random furniture so that she could see what was behind or inside. All she found was yet more boxes! Her grand plans of throwing the doors open to visitors again by the end of the following week were fading fast… just like her levels of energy and enthusiasm.
‘Andy was right,’ she muttered, as she finally reached the front of the building again, ‘I need a sugary treat!’
A cup of tea was definitely in order, and if she could wangle a fruit slice out of the bakery before they’d even opened, all the better. With any luck, Andy would be a man of his word and wheedle one for her as well as himself!
Grabbing her handbag from where she’d stashed it in a dusty corner near the door, Cath flicked the lights back off—noting the distinct lack of sparks this time—and beat a retreat, yanking the door closed behind her.
