Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange, Jenny Kane [big ebook reader .TXT] 📗

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. Talking 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