Clare finished pushing the small plastic label into the side of the trench and looked up. The voice had come from the direction of the welfare unit. She straightened up from where she’d been squatting to see a woman of later middle years, clad in a Barbour and wide-brimmed hat, striding purposefully towards her. Clare had stayed on-site to finish marking up the section when everyone else had gone for tea, so that Neil could head down into Gloucester to buy some drafting film. It had been a long, hot and decidedly unproductive day and she’d been looking forward to a mug of what laughingly passed for tea. But judging from the expression on the woman’s face it didn’t look likely she was going to get one any time soon. Reluctantly she climbed out of the trench and pinned what she fervently hoped was a directorial smile in place.

The woman waved a hand in the direction of the Portakabins. ‘They tell me you’re in charge here.’ Clare glanced over to see Jo standing in front of the site huts with her arms spread wide in a gesture of silent apology. Clare opened her mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance. ‘It’s an utter disgrace. You should be ashamed of yourself.’

Clare could feel her cheeks reddening. She had no idea who this woman was, much less what it was she was supposed to have done. She took in a deep breath and stuck out a hand in what she trusted would be construed as a friendly gesture.

‘I’m Clare Hills, the dig director. And you would be …’

‘Foggarty, Mrs Sheila Foggarty. Parish councillor. And I want to know what you think you’re doing opening this site up again.’

‘I’m doing my job, Mrs Foggarty. Our team are excavating here to ensure the site is properly explored and recorded ahead of the housing development.’

‘Exactly! After all the effort poor Beth went to. She knew that this site was too important to build on.’

‘I know that Beth believed this site may have been significant in the Iron Age, but I’m afraid so far we’ve found remarkably little evidence to back up her claims.’

‘How much is Paul Marshall paying you?’

‘I really don’t think that’s any of your business, Mrs Foggarty.’

‘I think it’s very much the business of a parish councillor to know if so-called archaeologists are taking backhanders from developers to keep quiet about what they’ve found in my parish.’

Clare couldn’t contain herself any longer. ‘Now, look here. I can see you’re very upset, but whatever you might like to believe we’re a perfectly respectable archaeology unit. And we’re doing our best to do a professional job under difficult circumstances.’