even if you have to look a little harder for them."
Swallowing hard, Sam looks back across the room. It's not that she's used to luxury in Leeds. The problem isn't really the building at all; it's the fact that the place is slap bang in the middle of a cemetery. Having never previously considered herself to be superstitious or easily creeped out, Sam suddenly realizes that perhaps she's not ready to live, work and sleep by herself in a place like this.
"Do we have a problem, Ms. Marker?" the mayor asks, staring at her with a suspicious glint in his eye.
"No," Sam replies, forcing herself to smile. "No problem at all."
"Then you'll be needing this," the mayor says, pulling a large metal key-ring from his pocket and placing it on the table by the window. Several large, rusty old keys are fixed to the key-ring; they look as if they're designed to open large vaults rather than normal doors. "To be honest, a smart girl such as yourself should be able to pick up the basics of the job just by getting on with it, so I think the best thing is if you spend the rest of the day making yourself feel at home, and then tomorrow morning you can open up and get on with whatever needs doing. Start with the grass, maybe, and then just take things as they come. You'll find all the tools in the shed over by the eastern wall. The most important things are to keep the place looking neat and tidy, make sure the gates are opened and closed on time, and watch out for kids during the night."
"Kids?"
"Local teenagers. They love this place. They think they can climb the wall under cover of darkness and get a few cheap thrills by drinking and smoking and whatever else between the gravestones. They make a hell of a racket, and a mess too, but they're easily scared off if you flash a torch in their direction. Even better, wave a spade in the air and they'll be needing fresh britches for a fortnight."
"Part of my job involves scaring kids?" Sam asks, shocked.
"Your job is to keep the cemetery safe and tidy," the mayor replies. "This is a place of rest, after all, and it's hard for our residents to rest when there are children getting up to no good on the graves."
With that, he turns and heads over to the door.
"I'll let you get on with unpacking and making the place feel a little more like home. Feel free to do anything you like with the place. Paint the walls if you wish, and fix the windows. I think there's some paint left over in the basement from the last tenant. One more thing, though. I'm sure you'll appreciate that we don't really condone visitors, so I'd prefer it if you could refrain from entertaining anyone here. No parties, that sort of thing. I'm afraid that includes friends and family who might want to visit from out of town. We have a couple of lovely little bed and breakfast establishments in town, in case anyone should happen to drop by and visit you."
"That won't be an issue.”
The Mayor nods approvingly. "And you're absolutely, completely certain that you've got what it takes for this job? I mean, no offense, but I'm still a little dubious about a girl doing something that's normally been done by a man. It's not that I doubt girls in general, and I'm certainly not sexist or old-fashioned, but girls have different physical abilities, and this is a very physical job."
"I'll be fine," Sam replies. "Actually, I'll be more than fine. I look forward to working with you, Mayor Winters."
"And I you," the mayor replies. "If you like, you can come to the cafe this evening and I'll buy you a drink and introduce you to some of the locals."
"Sure," Sam says quietly. "Thanks. That sounds good."
"Otherwise," the mayor continues, "I'll pop by tomorrow and see how you're getting on. Oh, and I suppose I should give you this." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a creased brown envelope and sets it on the chair by the door. "Your first week's pay packet," he explains, before turning and making his way out of the cottage.
For several