by T A Williams
Chapter 24
When the news of the intruders reached the Archaeology department, they were all shocked, but none more so than Samantha. The email from Freddie Griffiths, received by Virginia, advised them that a man in disguise had tried to sneak into the abbey. The owner had been surprised by him, but was unharmed, just shocked. The police had been called, so Virginia was asked to delay their visit until the afternoon.
As the morning progressed, Samantha found that she had another problem to deal with. This was a small package containing a card and a red rose. It arrived at ten o’clock addressed to Miss Samantha Squires. The message on the card was brief and to the point. Sorry for the other day. You got me all wrong. Miles.
Sam passed the card across to Becky. ‘Look who’s sent me a rose.’ She was unsurprised to see her friend’s expression turn to one of exasperation. ‘Before you say anything, Becs, take it from me that, not only have I done nothing to encourage Professor Miles Vernon, I have actually told him direct that I’m not interested.’
‘So what’s he apologising for, then?’
Sam told her about the phone call, the invitation to dinner and her fairly unequivocal refusal.
Becky looked dejected for a few seconds before pulling herself together. ‘Well, that’s pretty clear. I told you he was interested in you rather than me. I suppose I’d better look for another man.’ She caught Sam’s eye. ‘Somehow, I think I might take a stroll over to the Medieval Studies department one of these days to check out Dr Courtney.’
Samantha hadn’t seen James again since their cup of tea together on Tuesday evening. She had to admit, however, that she had found herself thinking of him quite a bit. Well, a lot, really. She had even walked over to the Medieval Studies department on one occasion, ostensibly in search of more information about Cistercian monasteries, but without finding him. The only secretary on duty over there had told her he was working from home. Even if Sam had asked, and she came close to doing so, she knew the girl wouldn’t have been allowed to pass on James’s address to her. Besides, she told herself as she walked back to the Archaeology department, what would she do even if she knew where he lived? She could hardly just pitch up on his doorstep, not least as the door would most likely have been opened by the woman called Clio.
So she had no option but to return to work and try to forget about him. This was easier said than done. Somehow, she knew he had a problem. Whatever it was that was bothering James, it made her wish she could help. Of course, she kept telling herself, it was almost certain that he was in a relationship, but it didn’t stop her thinking about him.
She sighed inwardly and gave Becky a gentle warning.
‘I have a feeling James Courtney may already be spoken for, but it’s worth a shot. Anyway,’ she lowered her voice. ‘Don’t forget what I told you about Ryan. He’s the one for you.’ It was unfortunate that Ryan had chosen that very moment to upset a mug of hot tea down his trousers. He was hopping around, beating at himself like a man possessed, uttering squeaky cries not dissimilar to a baby meerkat. Becky gave Sam a look that spoke volumes. Sam, however, was not to be discouraged. ‘Go on, Becs, go and give him a hand.’ Becky’s facial expression didn’t change.
Sam returned her attention to the rose and stuck it in a beaker. The creepy sensation she had felt when talking to Miles Vernon on the phone came back. But at least, hopefully, the card appeared to show he had got the message that she wasn’t interested.
Virginia successfully backed the car into the parking space at the third attempt and turned off the engine. Samantha, beside her, breathed out deeply. She was still alive. Slowly, she unclenched her fingers from the seatbelt. She had never been driven by Virginia before and if it never happened again, that would be too soon. The journey down the busy A38 trunk road had been a succession of near misses and near death experiences. Driving without due care and attention didn’t even begin to describe it. When they had crossed into Cornwall and embarked upon the ever narrower lanes, Sam had genuinely expected death to come at them around every corner. Throughout the whole trip Virginia had kept up a non-stop chatter about the prospect of exploring Rock Island. Understandably she was excited at the thought of going to the island, but it was to the exclusion of all else, road safety in particular.
They climbed out of the car, Sam managing to resist the temptation to throw herself to the ground and kiss the tarmac under her feet. Instead, she took a few deep breaths, dried her palms on her jeans, and looked around. One unexpected side effect of having the fear of death put in her was that she found that she was experiencing life with total clarity, and she looked around with interest. The car park was halfway down the hill leading into Tregossick and the view across the bay to the island was as clear as a bell after all the rain. Sam glanced at her watch and was pleased to see it was just before three o’clock as arranged.
From the moment they left the shelter of the car, they were assailed by the twin noises of seabirds wheeling overhead and the regular crump of waves against the beach. While Virginia went off to get the parking ticket, Sam had time to look around. The car park was almost full and most of the cars had roof racks for surf boards. A quick glance down to the beach showed that the waves had enticed quite a number of wetsuited figures into the water with their boards. A cluster of kite surfers further out in the bay reminded her of James and his remark about windsurfing. By now, Sam had worked out that his limp had to be the result of a serious accident, and she had been wondering if that was also responsible for his aggressive and unsettled air.
‘Come on, Sam. The launch is almost at the jetty.’ Virginia’s voice roused her from her daydream and they set off down the hill. As they passed the gardens of the houses along the narrow road, they were assailed by the scent of a host of different flowers, many of them growing out of the dry stone walls. The houses themselves looked at first sight as if they had been the setting for a massive gunfight, with bullet holes scarring the walls. Closer inspection revealed that the marks were seagull droppings, deposited on the wing, and splattered like shrapnel against the houses. Sam looked apprehensively upwards at the mass of seabirds high above them and rather wished she had brought a hat. Nevertheless, they reached the jetty unscathed and found the launch waiting for them.
‘Good afternoon, ladies.’ Ronnie the boatman gave them both a friendly smile and helped them aboard. He advised them to hang on, as there was still quite a swell running. He wasn’t joking. It was rough enough to make both of them thankful they had not had a big lunch. Sam certainly wasn’t sorry when they finally reached the island jetty and moored up. Ronnie helped them off the boat and pointed Virginia in the direction of the lift.
They were met as they stepped out in the main hall by Freddie Griffiths. He gave them both a friendly smile. Sam couldn’t help noticing that he was looking more relaxed than in the past. Maybe being on first name terms with Ann had tempered his formal demeanour. She gave him a big smile in return.
‘Welcome to the Abbey of St Bernard, Professor Greenway. Hello, Samantha. Sorry it’s taken so long for you to be able to visit us.’ He pointed out of the window at the sea beyond the cliffs. ‘The downside to living on an island is that you are very weather dependent.’ He looked across at Virginia. ‘My name is Griffiths and I’m the steward. If you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you up to the lounge.’
As they entered the vast living room, Ann jumped to her feet and came across to greet them. The Labrador came trotting over beside her, tail wagging.
‘Hello, Professor Greenway. My name’s Ann Cartwright. Hi Sam.’
Virginia’s eyes were out on stalks. ‘Erm… oh, hello.’
Sam had rarely seen Virginia at a loss for words, but finding herself in the presence of a household name had clearly come as a shock. Sam stepped in to give her supervisor time to collect herself.
‘Hi, Ann. It’s great to be back on the island again and to see you two.’ Henry stood up on his hind legs and nuzzled Sam with his nose. She ruffled h
is ears affectionately.
Ann smiled across at her and then did her best to put Virginia at her ease by talking shop. ‘It’s so exciting to hear that our find might prove to be very old.’
It worked. Virginia swallowed her stupefaction and managed a reply. ‘Almost certainly… Ann Cartwright, how amazing… Well, anyway, I’m very pleased to meet you and do, please, call me Virginia.’ She looked down at the dog. ‘But I don’t know your friend’s name.’
Ann was still smiling. ‘This is Henry. He’s very pleased to see you and if by any chance you’re carrying food, he’ll be your friend for life.’ As she was speaking, Samantha was studying her closely. Ann was looking pale. Presumably the shock of the intruder had taken its toll. Sam had a momentary image of James’s face the last time she had seen him; his expression equally forlorn. But she didn’t have time to think more about him as Ann returned to the subject of their visit.
‘Would you like to take a look at the spot where we found the bone, Virginia? Or rather, where Henry found the bone.’ Ann led them out onto the terrace and from there onto the grassy top of the island. The views were as magnificent as Sam remembered, particularly as, after the storm of the previous days, the air was clear and they could see for miles and miles. There was the smell of salt in the air and any sounds were submerged by the ever-present din of the seabirds. It felt as if they had been transported to a distant land. Samantha caught Virginia’s eye and read her unspoken comment. What a place!
Ann and the dog led them to the old ruined building. When they got there, Sam’s first sensation was one of disappointment. After all the rain, the area inside the walls had filled with water and all she could now see was a pond with brambles and bedraggled weeds protruding into the air. Undeterred, Virginia set about a detailed inspection of the site while Sam slipped off her sandals and splashed down the couple of stone steps she had spotted last time she was here, until her feet told her she had reached ground level. She burrowed down into the soft mud with her toes and was excited to feel the outline of another step buried beneath her feet. She climbed out again, rinsed her hands and feet in a puddle, and turned to the others.
‘I’ve gone down three steps and there’s at least another one beneath the surface. You never know, there may be a lot more, maybe leading to a cellar or a store down below.’ She wiped her hands and feet on the springy turf to dry them.
Virginia looked across and nodded. ‘I have no doubt that this is a very old building.’ She glanced across at Samantha. ‘I believe the lab reckoned the bone was over five hundred years old, didn’t they? Well, for my money, I think this building has been here since before the first millennium. We’ll need to do a closer study of the materials used and the style of construction, but I reckon this might date back to the ninth century, when Alfred the Great was fighting against the Vikings.’
Mention of Vikings brought a smile to Samantha’s face. Becky was going to be in her element here.
‘From the solid stone construction, this might have been a watchtower or small fortress. After all, the views from here are spectacular in all directions. Maybe there was a beacon here that could be lit if the longboats were sighted.’ Sam watched Virginia’s face. She was rapt at the thought of the history of the place. Beside her, Ann was looking more animated now.
‘So, do you think it’s worth investigating further?’
Virginia stared at her in amazement. ‘Worth it? Absolutely without question. If possible, I’d love to do a full scale excavation of the whole floor area. Who knows what might be down there?’
‘Bucketloads of treasure, maybe?’ Sam was trying to cheer Ann up and was rewarded with a little smile from her.
‘Fat chance.’ Ann looked across at Virginia. ‘But just to be able to find out more about the bone man would be exciting enough.’
Virginia still needed to hear her agreement. ‘So, do you think we could come and dig here? Are you sure that’ll be all right?’ Ann gave her a nod and a smile.
‘You’re very welcome to come and dig to your heart’s content. If you let me, I might even lend a hand with the digging.’
‘That’s fantastic… Ann.’ Virginia looked like a little child in a sweet shop.
‘Like I said before, all I would ask is that you and your colleagues do your best to keep my presence here a secret. This is in all our interests. You heard about the intruder we had this morning?’
Sam nodded. ‘Such a shame he got away. Do you think he was a photographer, or might he have come across for some other reason?’
Ann shrugged her shoulders. ‘Who knows? I found him at the French doors to my bedroom suite and he turned tail as soon as Henry started barking. I didn’t get much more than a glimpse of him, but at least he wasn’t very big. He was probably only about my height and slim with it. Somehow, I would have expected a kidnapper or whatever to be a bit bigger. No, I’m pretty sure he was one of those damn paparazzi. For all I know, underneath all that rubber, it might even have been a woman in there.’
Virginia stepped in to offer comfort, while Sam did her best to hide her shock. She began to get a sinking feeling that she might know who the intruder was. Was the figure in the wetsuit really a woman and, in that case, could Karen have been crazy enough to try to sneak onto Rock Island in search of a story, and could she have then been stupid enough to almost get herself caught? Sadly, Sam had a feeling that the answer to both questions was yes.
‘The annoying thing is that he wasn’t alone.’ Ann shook her head in disbelief. ‘There were two other photographers on the island as well. It may be too late, but if you can keep my identity under your hats, then I’d be very grateful.’
Virginia was quick to reassure her. ‘We’ll do everything in our power, Ann. None of us will breathe a word. Now, it’s Thursday today. If we work hard tomorrow getting everything ready, I see no reason why we couldn’t start as early as the middle of next week. Let’s say Wednesday, if that isn’t too soon for you?’
‘That’s absolutely fine. Now, can I offer you a cup of tea and a piece of cake?’
Virginia beamed at her. ‘That would be lovely.’ She held up her muddy hands. ‘I’ll just need to wash my hands first.’ They walked back into the abbey and Tracey was despatched to show Virginia to the bathroom. Although Sam’s hands were equally dirty, she lingered behind so as to have a chance to speak to Ann. As soon as Virginia was out of earshot, she lowered her voice and explained the problem.
‘Virginia’s a lovely lady and a real brain, but behind the wheel she’s a total numpty. I’ve never been so frightened in my life. I thought I was going to die at least a dozen times on the way here. I’ll take the bus back or even use that bloody kayak if I have to, but I never, ever, want to be driven by Virginia again. Could you possibly invent some reason why I should stay on here?’
Ann grinned at her. ‘No problem. In fact, if you’ve got time, why don’t you stay for dinner and I’ll get somebody to drop you home afterwards.’ She paused as a thought struck her. ‘Or you can stay here for the night. There are seven guest bedroom suites and none of them is being used.’ Her expression became a bit more serious. ‘I’d really like the chance to just talk, if it’s all right by you.’
Sam nodded her agreement and then scuttled off to the bathroom to wash up in readiness for the cake.
Chapter 25
Beppe and Giancarlo didn’t get back to the guest house until early evening. That Thursday was one of the worst either of them had ever experienced. After telling the steward all they had seen, they had been escorted from the island to the police station by two police officers, where their details had been noted and filed. A female police officer took their statement and asked them for a description of the intruder in the wetsuit.
Beppe was only communicating in grunts so Giancarlo repeated what he had already told the people on the island. ‘Just that he wasn’t a big man and the wetsuit, it had “Gul” written on it.’
The officer noted the name, but realised that it
was a very common brand. ‘Anything else?’
Giancarlo remembered the only other thing of note. ‘Yes, he was wearing a gold watch.’ The image of the man’s thin wrist sporting the big shiny watch was quite clear in his mind. ‘It might even have been a Rolex. I know them, because I’ve been hoping my father would give me one.’
‘Well, I suppose that might be useful information.’ The officer glanced at the cheap watch on the young man’s wrist and gave him a smile. ‘Couldn’t persuade your father?’
Giancarlo managed a weak smile in return and shook his head.
They were mightily relieved to hear that the people on the island were not going to press charges against them for trespass, or for the intrusion into their privacy. Frustratingly, they still didn’t know just exactly who was actually on the island. Presumably Ann Cartwright, although her name had never been mentioned, but who else? No doubt the decision not to proceed against them was so as to avoid unwelcome publicity. It was, however, made quite clear to both of them that Rock Island was completely off limits to them from now on.
However, their nightmare day did not end when they left the police station. In spite of the restorative properties of two doughnuts and a large mug of Devon and Cornwall Constabulary tea, Beppe was looking very pale and not feeling so good by the end of the interview. The police decided to send him to Plymouth hospital, where Giancarlo interpreted, as Beppe’s heart was subjected to a series of tests. The upshot of this was that Beppe had a heart problem and they wanted to keep him in hospital. The fat man refused, but was advised in no uncertain terms to take the first flight back to Rome and get himself looked at.
In view of Beppe’s condition, Giancarlo found himself having to make the phone call to Bianchi to recount their disastrous trip to the island. For once, he was very pleased that his father was Bianchi’s boss as this probably sheltered him to some extent from the ensuing outburst. Son of the boss or not, the variety and the inventiveness of the expletives hurled at him made clear the editor’s dissatisfaction with their performance.