Page 21 of Match Point in Crumbleton
CATH
The walk back up the hill from the café to the museum felt like climbing Everest instead of a gentle amble up the picturesque cobbles. Cath felt like her feet were encased in blocks of lead—but she knew the sudden heaviness in her limbs and desire to climb under a blanket in a darkened room had nothing to do with being tired.
Lunch had been far from the fun, happy break she’d been expecting. In fact, she felt a bit like the tenuous grasp she had on her new reality had just come under fire from a bunch of pipe bombs.
Cath didn’t blame Caroline for bringing the subject up. In fact, she had a feeling the pair of them would get on like a house on fire… when the woman in question wasn’t doling out more home truths than Cath had been expecting over her cheese and ham toastie.
To say that it had left her feeling a bit demoralised was the understatement of the century. And frankly, didn’t she have every right to feel like that? It looked like the council had been anything but straight with her during the interview process.
The burning question now was, where did it leave her?
Living in a new town, in a strange flat piled high with boxes – that was where. Cath’s new job might look like a dream on paper, but in reality, it looked like that particular piece of paper might be on fire.
‘I knew it was too good to be true,’ she sighed, mooching past the florist and the antiques shop with downcast eyes and an even more downcast heart. She couldn’t believe she might be job hunting again in just a few short months.
Blowing out a long, slow breath, Cath slotted the big stupid key back into the big stupid lock and gave it a big stupid wiggle.
The wave of possibility she’d been riding all morning had well and truly vanished. Now she was left with a queasy kind of sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, and very little energy or enthusiasm left to attack the next round of junk waiting for her inside.
Cath dashed inside, flicked on the lights, and then headed back to the door and slammed it shut. She wasn’t in the mood for any unexpected visitors this afternoon. Still, she didn’t want to get a reputation as a grumpy baggage and she definitely didn’t have it in her to be a smiling ray of sunshine if any of the locals happened to pop in to say hello. As for the dithering gaggles of tourists…
‘Better to shut them out!’ muttered Cath, turning the key in the lock for good measure.
There. Now at least she could be a grump without risking an audience. As much as she’d enjoyed Andy’s company earlier, she was glad that he’d had to disappear off after lunch to deal with one of his many maintenance jobs. She needed some time to digest what she’d just learned, and she really didn’t want to end up taking the bad news out on him.
There wasn’t much point in sulking though, was there? Ruth wouldn’t be back in the country for a couple of weeks, so getting to the bottom of the museum’s funding and finding out the future of her job was going to have to wait.
‘Right,’ said Cath in a loud, purposeful voice, hoping that it might trick her brain into thinking that everything was hunky-dory.
It didn’t work.
If she was being honest, Cath had no idea what to do next. Unfortunately, it looked like the magic of the plan in her back pocket had worn off over lunch.
Picking her way through the newly sorted piles and stacks of boxes looking for some inspiration, Cath was surprised at how much the pair of them had managed to achieve in just one morning. There was certainly a lot more space to move around, and they’d even managed to shift most of the piles away from the front of the glass cabinet that held the tennis equipment.
In fact, if she just moved that bundle of old newspapers and the heap of what looked like old theatre curtains out of the way, she might even be able to get the doors open for a closer look. It would be nice to see if there was anything interesting in the lower half of the cabinet.
Grabbing the string that was looped around the bundle of newspapers, she dragged them out of the way. She’d take them over to the pile of recycling later. Cath shifted her attention to the heap of red, velvet curtain. She gingerly took hold of a handful of the grubby fabric and tugged.
A plume of dust rose in the air, and Cath had to pause to sneeze.
And sneeze.
And sneeze again.
‘Enough already!’ she muttered, rubbing her nose with the back of her hand in an attempt to stop the explosions.
‘Okay, change of plan,’ she muttered, eyeballing the curtains. There was no way she was getting her face too close to them again. Instead, she started to nudge the pile of fabric out of the way with her foot until the glass doors were clear.
‘That’ll do,’ she sniffed.
Leaning forward, she gave the dusty glass door a gentle tug.
‘Locked? Are you serious?!’ she laughed. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to make off with an old tennis net and a few moulting balls. ‘Damnit… now what?’
Patting her jeans pockets, Cath felt for the smaller bunch of keys that Ruth had sent her with the Welcome Pack. They had to be for something in the building, didn’t they? With any luck…
Pulling the little ring of ancient keys from her back pocket, Cath flipped through them, looking for a likely candidate. The lock looked like it was made of brass.
