‘Well, don’t say anything else to Fuller and ask Jo to keep quiet about it. The last thing we want is anyone shouting about it in the local pubs. If this is what it looks like, the more people that know, the greater the danger that one of them will end up getting hurt.’

‘Understood. But what do we actually do?’ Clare asked.

‘Well, first of all we need to establish whether these finds are real or fake. There are plenty of gullible individuals out there who wouldn’t know a La Tène sword from a Sabatier. And just as many online antiquities dealers who are willing to take advantage of that fact. And we also need to establish whether there is any actual evidence of provenance.’

Across the desk from her, Clare nodded thoughtfully. ‘And I’m guessing that means we need to see these things for ourselves and meet the people who are selling them.’

Margaret lowered her head and peered over the top of her glasses. ‘And in that assumption you are wholly correct, Clare. If we are going to do this thing the most important part is the “we” element. Do not contemplate even for an instant attempting to do this alone. Even if these artefacts don’t come from our excavation, if they’re not replicas and they’ve been found by metal detectorists then they’re almost certainly being sold illegally. Under the Treasure Act, even if they came from a ploughed field, finds like this have to be reported to the coroner, not sold to the highest bidder on an auction site. So whatever else the people behind this may be, they’re clearly not worried about the forces of law and order. And that should give us both pause for thought.’

Clare leant back in her chair and smiled. She was determined to enjoy this evening. It had been an exhausting few weeks at the dig and she’d spent most of her weekends working. But this evening she felt as if someone had opened a small portal into her old world. And as much as she loved the life she was making for herself here, she was looking forward to being pampered for once.

The call from James had come completely out of the blue. He had business in Salisbury, he’d said, and would she be free for dinner on Saturday evening? His treat. For a split second she’d considered refusing. James was part of her old life and she wasn’t sure that she wanted to revisit it. But what harm could it do? And he’d been such a support since Stephen’s accident, it would have seemed positively rude to turn him down, particularly as she couldn’t think of any good reason to do so. Besides, it would give her an excuse to dust off her little black number and get dressed up for once.