by Jenny Kane
An attractive adult, with whom she intended him to fall head over heels in love.
Five
September 2nd
Thea spoke into her mobile as she paced the outer limits of the fortlet.
‘The thing is, Helen, I’ve examined the survey results so often I’m afraid I’m seeing what I hope to see, rather than what’s actually there.’
Thea pictured her former boss sat at her desk in Bath, twiddling her spiralled red hair as she listened. ‘As you know, Helen, there’s a fortlet on the other side of Exmoor, at Martinhoe. It has the standard formation of concentric earth and wooden banks and ditches you’d expect to find. The thing is: the one here looks as if it has a few regular edges as well as some circular construction. I’m beginning to wonder if it was built at the same time as Martinhoe, but then experienced a later level of rebuilding before eventually falling into disuse.’
Having promised Helen she’d email her over a copy of the geophysics results, Thea hung up the phone and strode towards the former scullery, now her permanent office. It wasn’t until she’d discarded her wellington boots by the back door that she remembered what had taken her to the fortlet at such speed in the first place.
Wondering if Tina was alright, and whether Sam had explained the presence of the letters, Thea peered around her friend’s office door. She wasn’t there.
*
‘I was about to check to see if your car was missing. I’ve looked all over the house for you. I keep forgetting about this room.’ Thea leant against the open door that led into the old television room. Recently converted into a downstairs bedroom for wheelchair users, it had a hint of fresh paint about it, the new carpet and fresh linen making it unique among its Victorian colleagues. ‘Are you alright?’
Tina carried on with her preparation for their visitors in five days’ time. ‘Not really.’
‘What happened?’
‘The letters were from his mother.’
‘But he’d hidden them?’
‘Yes.’ Flopping onto the bed she’d just smoothed flat, Tina groaned as she explained what had happened. ‘And now Sam’s stormed off to God knows where. One minute it sounded like he was proposing and now I don’t know if he’s left me or not.’
Tears welled in her friend’s eyes as Thea said, ‘Hold on a second; go back to the bit on the garden bench before the letters got discussed. Did you just say he more or less proposed?’
Tina sniffed. ‘But that’s not going to happen properly now is it?’
‘Where is Sam?’
‘Walking on Exmoor probably.’ She looked around the room. ‘He’s not going to be in here, is he?’
An air of defeat hung around Tina as she got up and uncreased the linen. ‘I have no idea what to do.’
‘Once he’s calmed down, he’ll come round.’
‘But he’s so private. How can I spend the rest of my life with someone who has so much history that he can’t tell me about, and another load he won’t tell me about?’
‘Perhaps that’s the problem.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Sam has spent so much of his life coping with not being allowed to share, now that he has someone to share with, he doesn’t know how. He might even be afraid to, in case the floodgates open so wide that he can’t shut them again.’
‘Maybe.’ Tina gave the room an appraising look. ‘But if not, I won’t be able to stay. No way can I work here if we split up. It’d kill me.’ She grabbed both plaits and pulled down on them. ‘Thank goodness I kept my post at the Exmoor Heritage Trust on part time.’
‘It won’t come to that, I’m sure it won’t.’
Tina tried not to burst into tears again. ‘I’d better go and research chickens.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Sam wants more, so I need to make sure we can mix groups of chickens together, or if adding new poultry would lead to all-out war. Beaks at ten paces and all that.’
‘So he does. I’ll come to the office with you. I need to write another to-do list.’
Tina gave a brave smile. ‘I wonder what names we’ll give the next batch of hens: Mavis, Mabel? Although I’m not sure our human Mabel would like that.’
‘Mabel!’ Thea checked her watch. ‘Before all this blew up, we were talking about asking her to join the team. Come on, you go and check your chicken information and I’ll write up this list of archaeological equipment we need to buy or hire. Then we’ll take Mabel for lunch at Sybil’s Tea Rooms. Literally butter her up as we ask about her being our catering guru.’
‘Only if I can have a cheese scone,’ Tina agreed, ‘and we don’t tell Mabel about the letter situation.’
‘Or that we were thinking of naming a chicken after her.’
*
Thea ran a finger over the intricate iron work of the gate to the walled garden. She’d always been fascinated by how its upper half looked like a work of art, while the bottom half was as standard a wooden gate as you’d find in any ordinary garden. Pushing it open, she could see Sam weeding a patch of ground between the chicken coop and the long Victorian greenhouse. More a skeleton of what had once been, rather than an operational structure, its glassless beauty struck Thea every time she saw it.
Deciding to avoid talking about the letters unless Sam brought the subject up, Thea metaphorically put her manager’s hat on, and dived straight in with the business of the day. ‘Tina has checked. You can add more chickens to the same coop, providing there is sufficient space. If you take the precaution of letting them get used to each other first, by placing a stretch of chicken wire down the middle for a while, then the transition will be easier.’
‘So they can see each other and adjust to the new company, but not intermingle?’ Sam kept weeding, his eyes averted from Thea as he spoke. ‘Makes sense. Tina was happy to research that for me then.’
‘I think happy may be pushing it. Professional enough perhaps.’
‘I assume she told you all about it.’
‘Some, not all. She respects a person’s privacy does Tina. She always has.’
‘I believed that too, until today.’
Thea bit the inside of her cheek, not wanting to take sides between her friends, while privately admitting she was on Tina’s. ‘Think about it, Sam. Think about Tina. You know she hasn’t got an ill-intentioned bone in her body.’
He grunted, before pointing at the greenhouse’s heavily cobwebbed structure. ‘Looks like something from Miss Havisham’s drawing room, doesn’t it?’
‘It could be stunning.’
‘I’m glad we didn’t pull it down; it’s bad enough losing the mill, without that being destroyed too.’
Thea gave an involuntary shudder. The memory of desperate fear and helplessness that swept through her every time she remembered how she and Tina had been trapped inside, while the mill burnt around them, made her skin cold. She wished her mind wouldn’t automatically ask her, ‘What if Sam and Shaun hadn’t been able to rescue them?’ every time the former woollen mill, which gave the manor house its name, was mentioned. Although the sensation of nausea and panic that made her wipe sweat from her palms wasn’t as bad as it had been, it still had the power to take her breath away.
Noticing her distress, Sam made haste to apologise. ‘I wasn’t thinking, sorry.’
‘Nothing to be sorry about. You’ve been through worse.’ Thea brushed damp hands down her jeans, forcing herself to be professional and asking, ‘What news on the mill anyway? I haven’t liked to ask, there’s been so much going on lately.’
Dropping a handful of dandelions into his bucket, Sam got to his feet. ‘I’ve not said much because there hasn’t been much to report. The final say from the surveyor isn’t back yet. I chased it up last week, but we’re on their very long to-do list.’
‘Will you rebuild if you can?’
‘I know it won’t make me popular in the village, but I’ll probably have to sell the plot.’
‘Upwich will forgive you. Talk
ing of Upwich, Tina and I took Mabel to Sybil’s for lunch. I think the phrase “as keen as mustard” would describe how she feels about helping with the menu planning. She also suggested she do the daily lunches, assuming we’d be aiming for sandwiches, soups, quiches, that sort of thing.’
‘I hadn’t considered lunches, not beyond everyone grabbing a sandwich when they were hungry.’
‘If you want people to be working on the garden, helping to fix the greenhouse, and various other outside tasks, then they’ll be starving by lunchtime. If Mabel was on top of midday food, then you could maintain the balanced diet part of the therapy you’re offering here.’
‘You’re right.’ Sam picked up a random twig and played it between his fingers. ‘I forget to eat so often, I assume other people are equally uninterested in food.’
Not commenting on Sam’s random eating habits, Thea strolled towards the chickens. ‘The added bonus is, it turns out Mabel has current certificates for catering for the public, so she wouldn’t have to go on a health and safety course before she could do anything.’
Sam sighed. ‘Bloody health and safety. I swear nearly all our budget has gone on forms no one would need if common sense wasn’t dead!’
Thea’s eyebrows rose, but she said nothing. Sam was not known for getting angry about much at all, let alone paperwork.
‘Sorry.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Thea watched Betty and Gertrude enjoy a rare moment of peaceful companionship, as they pecked around the water bowl. ‘Talking of paperwork, we’re good to go on the dig. I’ve had the okay from the Council of Archaeology and so on, but it’s too big a job for me alone, and what with Shaun being away…’
Sam ran a hand through his hair, knocking his ponytail into a tattier arrangement. ‘I am excited about the dig, Thea, but we can’t afford to pay archaeologists yet. I suppose I was hoping you could train our guests to help you.’
‘For a lot of it I can.’ Thea kept her eyes on the chickens, speaking aloud thoughts she hadn’t had time to order properly yet. ‘I’ll need people to wash, measure, and record any finds we have. Forms will have to be filled in, equipment cleaned and ground measurements taken, not to mention the actual excavation – once I’ve shown them what to do.’
‘So we won’t have to employ anyone else?’
Thea tilted her head to one side. ‘Sam, forgive my asking, but why the money worries suddenly? Especially if you have to sell the mill. That land will bring in enough to pay for a great deal here, including wages for you, me and Tina.’
Sam shifted uncomfortably. ‘It isn’t that, but every time we have someone new visit, they’re bound to wonder why I won’t go inside. And although the reason is a good one—’
‘You get tired of having to justify yourself all the time, whereas ex-services personnel will accept and not question.’
‘Exactly.’
Thea threw a handful of the grain she habitually kept in her pocket towards the chickens. ‘As it happens, I have a couple of ideas concerning archaeological assistance that will cost us no more than extra lunches and regular cups of tea and coffee. Nor will it involve strangers staying overnight, so your “Tent-Man” cover would not be blown.’
‘Go on.’
‘Students. Exeter University have an archaeology department. They would bite your hand off for the chance to work on a dig like this. It’s close enough for them to come via mini bus, and do ten-til-four every day. No point having them longer now the nights are drawing in.’
‘Would they really come?’
‘They would.’
‘I like the sound of that. And the other idea?’
‘That will depend on Shaun.’
Six
September 2nd
Shaun cradled his pint as the AA fetched three large helpings of beer-battered fish and chips from the pub’s food counter. They had about half an hour before the rest of the team descended on The Smuggler’s pub-stroke-bed-and-breakfast. No one drank like an archaeologist at the end of a shift.
‘Do you think Sophie will show her face in here tonight?’ Ajay plonked two plates of food onto the table as Andy sat with the third.
Spearing a chunky chip with his fork, Shaun said, ‘I expect so.’
Andy squeezed a snake of tomato ketchup along the length of his haddock. ‘At least she’s trying to join in with the digging team.’
‘She seems a nice enough lass, just a bit…’ Ajay paused, searching for a suitable adjective.
‘Unworldly…’ Shaun suggested as he chewed. ‘Spoilt?’
‘I was going to say inexperienced, but fair enough. Not necessarily her fault though. Anyone with a mother like that is going to be affected.’ Ajay cut into his fish. ‘This looks good!’
‘Cornish fish and chips. None better.’ Andy forked an oversized portion into his mouth with a grin.
Taking a swig of beer, Shaun savoured the flavour for a while before saying, ‘I’m still not sure about this arrangement we’ve come to. Or, let’s face it, been forced to accept by Lady Hammett.’
‘It’s not ideal,’ Ajay agreed, ‘but it’s stopped the producer having apoplexy, and if we can stick to the schedule, then there’s no reason why we can’t be out of here in four weeks as planned. Earlier even.’
‘That would be good.’ Shaun raised his glass. ‘At least, with this sort of site the finds are likely to be minimal. We’re mostly looking at structural discovery.’
‘Why do I get the feeling you’re uneasy then?’ Andy munched his way through a second massive mouthful. ‘Is it that we have to cover the site back up afterwards? That’s not so unusual.’
‘No, it’s Lady Hammett’s condition that Sophie appears on camera as the local expert.’
‘She does know a lot about the place.’ Ajay wasn’t convinced that was all that was bothering his friend. ‘But I grant you, that’s not the same as being good at talking about it on camera.’
‘What are the chances of it really being the lost church of St Guron?’ Andy squeezed another mountain of ketchup onto his place.
‘Quite high. Sophie has done her homework. Despite the weird way she got us here, I’m glad she did. I think.’ Shaun glanced at the pub door. He usually enjoyed the post-dig camaraderie when his colleagues arrived, but after the hassles of the day he craved peace and quiet and a chance to call Thea.
As if reading his friend’s mind, Ajay asked, ‘Any word on how the dig at Mill Grange is progressing? Or is Thea still stuck at the mountains-of-red-tape stage?’ He waved a chip in Shaun’s direction. ‘I’ll never forget your faces when you saw the geophysics results for the first time. Priceless!’
‘I’m going to call her after dinner. Last I heard, they were good to go, and had everything apart from archaeologists and equipment.’
The geophysics boys exchanged glances, before Ajay spoke for both of them. ‘Why aren’t we doing it? It would make cracking telly. A Roman site on Exmoor makes hens’ teeth look common.’
‘I wanted to, but I checked, and our schedule’s full for this series. By the time the next series comes around, it’ll be dug. Sam can’t afford to hang around. He wants the site to provide part of the therapy he’s providing for his retreaters. The only way Landscape Treasures could cover it would be as an extra edition to go out at Easter or Christmas or something. It would have limited digging and be more like a documentary about the site.’
‘Well that would work, wouldn’t it?’ Andy swirled a chip in his ketchup. ‘We could focus on the work Sam and co. are intending to do at Mill Grange with recovering military personnel, as well as the excavation.’
Shaun nodded, his mood lifting further. ‘That might work. So, how are we going to convince Phil that we should make an extra episode?’
As he asked the question, Phil, their combined producer and director, walked through the ‘Residents Only’ door that led to the accommodation above. He waved at the trio in a manner that asked if more alcohol was required at their table.
�
��Looks like this is my chance to ask him.’ Shaun laid down his knife and fork and headed to the bar.
*
‘What do you think?’
Thea couldn’t help but laugh as she rocked back in her office chair at Mill Grange. ‘I think you’re a mind reader.’
‘Sorry?’
‘I was only talking to Sam this afternoon about suggesting you guys filmed here. I know we’ve mentioned it in the past, but as it isn’t you who has the final say about where you go, I dismissed it as wishful thinking.’
‘That’s what I’d done too, but Ajay and Andy were talking about the site. It’s so rare, it would be foolish not to at least try and cover it. That’s when the idea of a Christmas special came in. Phil, he’s our producer and director, loves the idea. Obviously the money men need to be consulted, but in principle it’s a possibility. Only if Sam’s okay with it, of course.’
‘He sounded keen, but to be honest, he’s wary about strangers asking why he doesn’t sleep in his own house, but if you guys came—’
‘And camped in the grounds with him, so it looks like Sam is just joining in with the dig?’
‘Yes! That would be fabulous, and Sam would love it.’ Thea’s delight shot down the phone line towards Cornwall. ‘Will you let me know once you have an idea how realistic this is? I’m going to get in some students from Exeter Uni to help uncover the topsoil, but obviously we won’t want to do too much work before you get here if you’re coming.’
‘As soon as I have word, I’ll be on the phone.’ Shaun leant against the far wall of the pub as he chatted. ‘So, apart from the dig, how’s life at Mill Grange?’
*
‘Hi, Ajay.’ Sophie pulled a wooden stool over to the table and sat down. ‘Who’s Shaun talking to?’
‘Thea.’ Andy answered so Ajay could finish his last mouthful of fish. ‘You can always tell when it’s Thea because Shaun smiles really widely while they chat.’
‘And even wider—’ Ajay wiped a napkin over his lips in satisfaction of a meal enjoyed ‘—when they’re together.’