Margaret shook her head. ‘I really don’t know. The university seemed to think very highly of her – or at least of the research ratings she brought the department. But she never did have any truck with academic politicking and intrigue. She was only interested in her work. So it’s possible she told someone in the university hierarchy one too many home truths. On the other hand, if she really believed Bailsgrove was a shrine site it’s not beyond the bounds of possibility that she resigned simply in order to be able to dig there and prove it.’

Clare’s astonishment was obvious. ‘Do you really think that’s possible? That she might have given up an established academic position just to dig at Bailsgrove? I know postdocs at Salisbury who’d kill for a full-time teaching post.’

‘From what I remember of Beth, I certainly wouldn’t discount the idea.’ She glanced down at her watch. ‘Well, as lovely as it’s been to see you, Clare, I really must get back to that wretched paper.’

As she went to stand up, Clare placed a hand on her arm. ‘There’s something else, Margaret.’

There was something in her tone that Margaret found troubling. Sitting back down, she turned to face the younger woman. ‘Is everything alright, my dear? It’s not something to do with Stephen and his accident, is it?’

Clare shook her head. ‘No, it’s nothing like that. I’m no further along with finding out what really happened.’

She was relieved to hear it. She’d grown fond of Clare during their time together digging at Hungerbourne. Working alongside her, she’d come to realise that she was a talented archaeologist with a rare gift for the subject. And a gift like that was not to be wasted. Margaret knew only too well how tough it could be to forge a path in archaeology. She was a well-respected professor at one of the world’s most esteemed academic institutions now, but her own upbringing had been among what today might have been described as the rural poor. Her chair at Breakspear had been hard won, and it was a world away from the secure, respectable position as a bank clerk that her own mother and father had aspired to for the young Peggy Grafton. Her own struggle had made her all the more determined to do everything in her power to ease the path of others she encountered who had a love of, and an aptitude for, the subject.