by Jenny Kane
‘And if it is, I’ll come to Mill Grange and be your right-hand man.’
Thea smiled. ‘Would you now?’
‘Absolutely. Perhaps it’s time I gave it up anyway? I’m not exactly a youngster, and telly companies prefer women presenters now.’
Sitting up, Thea studied Shaun’s face. ‘You don’t want to give it up though, do you? I thought you loved your job.’
‘I do. It’s the best job ever, but I can’t see myself working with Julian for long. I’ve never wanted to punch anyone so much in my life.’
‘He does invite that feeling.’
Shaun kissed her forehead. ‘Shall we change the subject?’
‘Yes!’
Shaun laughed. ‘Looking forward to going back to Mill Grange for Easter?’
‘Hugely! We’ll be able to sleep together in a proper bed for a start.’
‘And then there’s Mabel’s bacon rolls.’
‘You are obsessed with those!’
‘True.’ Shaun poked her ribs. ‘How long after we’re back do you think it’ll be before you, Tina and Helen disappear to Sybil’s for a cheese scone or seven?’
‘Ohh, maybe half an hour?’
Seventeen
Friday March 27th
‘And how would it work exactly?
Sam looked almost as proud as Tom had done when Helen’d told him about the offer to write a book.
‘To begin with, it’s a case of working out how to best structure the book, something Tom’s already made a few suggestions about.’ Helen face coloured. ‘I hope you don’t mind that I spoke to Tom first. I wasn’t convinced I was capable of writing one in the first place, and you have so much on your plate at the moment. I didn’t want to bother you with it until I knew what needed doing.’
‘I’m glad Tom helped you decide to write it. It’s a great idea and, thinking with my business head on, it would be fantastic for Mill Grange. Not to mention your career.’ Sam beamed. ‘Have you spoken to Thea about it?’
‘I sent a text asking what she thought of the idea, but I haven’t heard back yet.’
‘Probably the mobile signal issue. I haven’t had a reply from Shaun about a few ideas I’ve had for this place either.’ Not wanting to elaborate, Sam said, ‘If you’re sure you have time, then I’d be delighted for you to do it, which brings me nicely onto something I’d like to discuss with you.’
‘Go on?’
‘Your time with us is almost up.’
Helen raised her eyes from the cup of coffee she was holding to the excavation they were sat next to. ‘It’s gone so fast. I’ll be sorry to leave.’
‘And we’ll be sorry to lose you.’ Getting up, Sam beckoned for Helen to join him on the fortlet’s west side. ‘Just look at this. We’d never have got so far without you. The book you’re going to write will be quite a story.’
‘You get that it’ll be non-fiction, right?’
‘Figure of speech.’ Sam looked beyond Upwich Fortlet to the false dig on the other side of the site. ‘Tom tells me he’s bringing at least one guest over to dig with you each day now.’
‘I’ve had three today. One, Cherry, would like to come back to learn more. What with Pete from last week, and that deaf chap the week before – sorry his name escapes me.’
‘Ian.’
‘Yes, Ian. We’re averaging a very good rebooking rate.’
‘Assuming they do rebook.’
‘Well, yes.’ Helen scanned the view before her, taking in the row of trestle tables covered in buckets and bowls for cleaning finds, and the piles of clipboards for recording information. ‘I’m going to miss getting my hands dirty.’
‘Not relishing going back to sitting in an office all day?’
‘It’ll be great to see the staff and the Baths themselves. It’s such a stunning place. You only have to be away a short time before you see a difference in it, even though, quintessentially, it doesn’t change.’
Not missing the sigh that Helen tried to hide, Sam pushed a little further. ‘And you’ll be looking forward to going back to your own home.’
‘More of my own space will be nice, no offence to your good self.’
‘None taken.’ Sam headed back to the bench and sat down, picking up his mug of tea as he did so. ‘This book, I’m assuming there’s a deadline?’
‘They want the first draft by Christmas; which seems frighteningly soon.’
‘Which begs another question, when will you find the time to write it? Your hours at the Baths are longer than those here, aren’t they?’
‘Well yes, although I don’t suppose we’re off duty much here when we have guests.’
‘That’s true.’ Sam grinned. ‘Next week we’ll have two vegans with us. Mabel’s going to wish she hadn’t come back to do the lunches.’
Helen laughed. ‘She does have a bit of a thing about vegans. I’ve noticed her tut rate increases when she can’t use cheese or butter in the meals.’
‘It’ll help keep her mind off Bert.’ Sam took a sip of tea. ‘Helen, I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to promise me to think about it, okay?’
‘Okay.’ Helen clutched her cup tighter, she had a feeling she knew what he was going to ask, and had no idea how she’d answer.
‘I was talking with Tom and—’
‘Tom?’
‘Yes, is that alright? He is your colleague.’
‘Sorry, of course it is. I shouldn’t have interrupted. What did you want to ask me?’
‘Would you like to stay?’ Sam held up a hand before Helen could give any sort of answer. ‘Sooner or later the dig here will be finished. Then there’ll be work to do on preserving it and, ultimately, opening it to the public. Tom will need help running the test site, and he’ll need someone to secure him placements on real digs for those who decide to do the archaeology certificate scheme we intend to run. It’ll be great for those guests who want to take the skills they have developed here to the next level. We’ve had plenty of interest, and once the wedding is over, I intend to advertise it properly. So we’ll need tutors. Tom won’t be able to do it all.’
‘I don’t know what to say. I’d like to stay obviously, but—’
‘I can’t pay you as much as the Baths plus, you have a home and life in Bath to consider. That’s why I said I didn’t expect an answer now.’
Taking a large mouthful of coffee, Helen let it ease her throat. ‘Does anyone else know about your offer?’
‘Just Tina.’
‘Not Tom or Thea and Shaun?’
‘No. Tom brought the subject up, but that was after Tina and I had discussed it.’
‘It wasn’t his idea then?’
‘I suppose he had the idea, but so did we – independently of him. Is that a problem?’
‘Not at all. I’m flattered you want me to stay.’ Helen’s cheeks went beetroot. ‘Sam, would you mind if we kept this secret for now? Just between you, Tina and me while I think about it.’
‘Certainly.’
Hoping Sam wouldn’t ask why she didn’t want Tom to know he’d asked her to stay, Helen changed the subject. ‘How are the wedding plans going?’
Saturday March 28th
‘Why don’t you come with me?’ Tom murmured into Helen’s ear as he kissed the side of her neck.
Suppressing the feeling that she’d love to come and collect Dylan from Tiverton, Helen murmured as Tom hands ran down her arms, ‘Because Sue wouldn’t like it.’
‘She probably wouldn’t know. She never comes out of the house with Dylan. Anyway, our friendship isn’t a secret.’
Helen took his hands, halting their journey towards her chest. ‘Unlike snogging in the store room when no one’s looking.’
‘If we don’t stop soon, I can’t vouch for that being all we do.’
‘Is that so?’
‘And don’t pretend you don’t want to, Miss Rodgers, you give yourself away,’ Tom murmured into her ear. ‘Honestly, woman, it’s only been two hours since
we made love. No one told me Roman historians could be so wanton.’
‘We aren’t, unless under the influence of former squaddies.’
‘Is that so, and how many former squaddies do you know?’
Helen stuck out her tongue in lieu of a reply before reluctantly pulling away from Tom ‘There’s something I meant to tell you last night – and then again this morning, before we got, umm… distracted. Mabel knows. She guessed.’
‘Oh.’
‘Don’t worry, she said she’d keep it under her hat.’ Helen stroked a finger over Tom’s chin. ‘I feel awkward not telling people, but…’
‘It’s okay. I’m not ready to tell people either. I’m enjoying having you all to myself.’
Helen wrapped her arms around him, before forcing herself away. ‘I’m glad you feel the same. Although, if Mabel guessed, the others might.’
‘We’ll cope with that if it happens.’ Tom planted a kiss on the end of her nose. ‘Well, if you won’t come to Tiverton with me, will you join Dylan and me for scones at Sybil’s? I’ve reserved a table.’
‘For two?’
‘Three, actually.’ Tom ran his hands down her sides. ‘Dylan has already asked me to invite you.’
A tender glow inflamed the heat that Tom had already started in her chest. ‘Did he?’
‘He likes you very much.’
‘I like him too.’
‘Good, because when we’re ready to tell him, I really want us to be—’
The sound of a vehicle coming up the driveway and passing the store made them jump away from each other.
‘We aren’t expecting a delivery, are we?’ Helen checked her clothing was in order as Tom headed for the door.
‘Mabel didn’t say so.’ As he swung the stores double doors wide, Tom’s face creased into panic. ‘Sue!’
He was already running the short distance to where his ex had parked, before Helen had registered who’d arrived.
‘Sue? What’s going on? Has something happened to Dylan?’
His frantic enquiry was answered by the wave of a little hand out of the car’s open back window. ‘Hi, Dad!’
As Sue climbed out of the Mini, Helen stepped back into the shadows of the store-come-office, her heart thudding in her chest. She wasn’t sure exactly what she’d expected Sue to look like, but the woman she could see standing in front of Tom was nothing like her preconceptions.
Rather than being a bit wild looking, with ripped jeans, piercings, and tattoos up her arms, Sue was tastefully turned out in a white shirt, black denims and a pair of new looking trainers. Her hair, which Tom had told her could be any colour under the sun, depending on her mood, was currently an ordinary deep brown, cut into a stylish bob. The only gesture towards any sort of outrageous behaviour was on the tips of her fingernails, which were painted bright orange.
Tom had described Sue as a woman who went from man to man, sponging her way along. That image didn’t fit with the together looking female stood on the drive with their son.
Their son.
Reminding herself that Tom had said Sue had changed a lot lately, and was making more effort for their child, Helen took a deep breath. Tom hadn’t lied to her. She’d made assumptions about the woman and been wrong. Helen attempted to quieten the sound of her racing pulse so she could hear what was going on outside.
*
‘What are you doing here? I was about to leave to come and fetch Dylan.’
Scooping his son into his arms, Tom wondered if Helen was alright, and if she could hear them.
‘We have some news don’t we, Dylan? And we wanted to tell you together.’
‘Yeah, Dad. I told Mum about those lovely scones. Can we take her for one, Dad? We could tell you our news then.’
‘Well I don’t know, I—’
‘Aww, please, Dad. You did say we could go to Sybil’s today.’
‘Yes, I did, but…’
Sue looked up at the manor. ‘Will you be sorry to leave here once you have custody of Dylan?’
‘Custody?’ Tom jumped on the word, as Sue hastily added, ‘I meant partial custody.’
‘Of course.’ Tom followed Sue’s eye line up to the manor’s slate roof. ‘I will, although we have been offered two bedrooms here while I hunt for somewhere suitable.’
Sue sniffed. ‘I bet you haven’t even started looking.’
‘Always so ready to dismiss my efforts before you know what they are.’
Noting the fall of Dylan’s smile, Sue shifted her feet. ‘Sorry. Old habits.’ She brushed her hands together. ‘Will you take us for this scone then? Dylan has hardly stopped talking about them on the trip over. I think we owe him some proper family time, don’t you?’
‘Right,’ Tom lowered Dylan to the ground, ‘I just need to talk to someone first.’
*
Helen was ready for him when he arrived. Even before he’d opened his lips she whispered, ‘Your son has something he wants to talk to his mum and dad about, you must go.’
Tom kissed her gently. ‘You are something very special, Helen Rogers.’
As she watched them walk away, Helen picked up the stone Dylan had given her and squeezed it in her palm. The little boy was between his parents, each holding a hand so they could swing him along the road. Helen felt tears coat her eyes.
‘Not that special, Tom. Dylan just forgot all about me.’
Eighteen
Saturday March 28th
Ajay leaned against the side of the catering truck next to Shaun, his arms folded across his chest, as they watched the local news reporter brief Thea.
‘That should be you, mate.’
‘Thea is our guest expert. She knows a lot more about Roman archaeology than me.’
Ajay glanced at Shaun. ‘If that was the criteria, then it should be someone from Cotswold Archaeology stood there. The mosaic was made from local stone, very probably by a local artisan.’
‘The Roman Baths aren’t exactly miles away, Ajay.’ Shaun dug his hands deep into his pockets. ‘If Thea was still working there, the chances are that we would have been asking her, as a local expert, to come and look at the bath house anyway.’
‘Maybe.’ Ajay don’t look convinced. ‘I can’t help thinking this is Julian pulling strings though.’
‘But what for? Thea isn’t interested in him and I’ve promised her I’ll drop the subject.’
‘Ummm.’ Ajay switched his gaze to their producer, who was standing close to the news show’s director. ‘Julian doesn’t strike me as a man who lets something like that get in the way… unless…’
‘You left that hanging in the air.’
‘Unless that isn’t what he wants Thea for. Perhaps he has an eye on her for a completely different reason?’
‘What reason?’ Shaun ran a hand through his hair, ruffling his fringe. ‘Getting her to talk more than me on camera might bruise my ego if it was anyone but Thea I suppose, but…’ Shaun stopped talking and turned to face Ajay, an uncomfortable notion forming in his mind. ‘You don’t think…?’
Ajay was already nodding. ‘Treasure Hunters are getting a new look and a new presenter.’
‘You think our TV company will want us to do the same?’ Shaun’s chest tightened. Chatting casually with Thea about not minding if he had to give up and work at Mill Grange was one thing, but being replaced by his girlfriend as head presenter was something else entirely.
He watched as the news show’s makeup artist dabbed some powder over Thea’s cheeks. Was that what Julian was planning? If so, what would be the point of working back at Mill Grange, if Thea wasn’t there too?
*
Wiping her hands down her trousers, hoping her nerves didn’t show on her face, Thea watched the director as the show’s reporter spoke into the camera. Seconds later, he turned to face her, his microphone held out before him.
‘I’m pleased to introduce Thea Thomas, guest expert at the latest Landscape Treasures dig to be filmed in the Cotswolds. As you will have
heard from the main bulletin, the Roman villa at Birdlip, being excavated by the award-winning archaeology show, is proving to be one of the region’s most important discoveries to date, not least because of the stunning mosaic uncovered in the villa’s bath house. Before I ask about that in particular, Thea, can you tell us a little about mosaics in general?’
‘Certainly.’ Thea smiled into the camera as the late morning sunshine bathed her face. ‘As you’ll know, mosaics are made up of thousands of individual tiles, known as tesserae. These pieces, usually cube shaped, about a centimetre square each, would have been hand cut from local stone or marble, or even glass or baked clay. The practice of laying floors in this way began around the second century BC. The art of designing and laying a mosaic was a specialised one, and such artisans would have been highly prized…’
*
Sybil raised an eyebrow as she saw Tom and his son come in with someone who was certainly not Helen.
‘Dylan, how wonderful to see you.’ Sybil watched as the lad clutched a menu, doing his best to read as much as he could. ‘Let me guess, either a strawberry milkshake and a great big cheese scone, or an orange juice and a great big cheese scone.’
Almost bouncing on his chair with pleasure, Dylan asked, ‘Can I have the orange juice please?’
Sybil pretended to look shocked. ‘No scone? Dylan, are you ill?’
Giggling, Dylan shook his head fast. ‘And the greatest biggest cheese scone ever please.’
‘Thank goodness for that!’ Sybil winked. ‘I was worried for a second.’
Still laughing, Dylan turned to the lady sat to his left. ‘See, Mum, I told you Sybil would know what I wanted.’
‘I’m Sue, pleased to meet you.’
Sybil shook the offered hand politely. ‘Can I tempt you to anything?’
‘Just a black coffee thanks.’ Sue patted her non-existent waist. ‘I have to be so careful.’
‘How tiresome for you.’ Sybil turned from the person sat in Helen’s seat. ‘Tom, usual?’
‘Please.’ He hadn’t missed that Sue had offended Sybil by not wanting to eat. ‘Could we have a pot of coffee like you do when I visit with Helen, please?’
