Oh, come on, Clare. Stop being so negative about this. However inconvenient it might be, once she’d signed that contract she was on her way to making this new life of hers permanent. In the two years since Stephen’s death her life had been turned upside down. And despite one or two hairy moments along the way, coming back to Wiltshire was the best thing she’d ever done. Yet somehow her life here still felt a bit like a daydream. She may have had her doubts about whether she was up to it when David had first offered her the job at the Hart Unit, but that was because she hadn’t been sure she really had what it takes to make it as an archaeologist. From the moment they’d first put trowel to earth and started digging together at Hungerbourne, she’d never doubted what she wanted to do with the rest of her life. It might not be a palace but buying the house was her way of finally committing to this new life.

She fumbled in her pocket for her keys and was about to insert the key in the lock when her hand touched the woodwork and the door swung open of its own volition. Had she forgotten to lock it when she’d left? The only other person who had a key was Jo – and she was safely ensconced in the King’s Arms, the best part of sixty miles away.

She stepped into the hallway and called out, ‘Hello. Is there anybody there?’

Christ, what a daft thing to say. She had no idea what she’d do if there was. She stood stock-still and listened. Outside in the street she heard a car honk its horn and the distant sound of music and laughter drifting from the nearby pub. But inside, nothing. As she got to the end of the hall, she stretched her hand up and felt for the light switch. It came on with a click that in the still of the evening air sounded like a gunshot, and illuminated a scene of devastation in front of her. Her living room was almost unrecognisable. Every drawer in the place had been pulled out and their contents unceremoniously dumped where they fell. The cushions from the sofa had been flung to the four corners of the room. And, worst of all, the books that had once stood neatly arranged in alphabetical order on her shelves lay strewn across the floor.