Clare nodded. She’d barely slept a wink last night. She couldn’t stop thinking about the child burials. She knew Jo was probably right. She always was – which was why she was the best in the business. But as unlikely as it was, even Jo had said there was a possibility that the burials might be modern. When Clare had finally dropped off to sleep she’d dreamt about Beth Kinsella’s lifeless body hanging up there in the beech grove. And when she’d woken she couldn’t escape the feeling that there was something going on here at Bailsgrove that she was missing.

She stretched out her hand. ‘Give us a hand up, will you?’

Jo reached down towards her, but as she was about to grab Clare’s hand she stopped and pointed towards the pit that Clare had been digging. ‘What’s that?’

‘What’s what?’

Clare turned to look behind her as Jo stepped past her into the trench. Now that Jo pointed it out she could see there was a tiny light brown splodge of something just emerging from the top of the loose soil next to where her hand shovel lay.

Jo said, ‘Hand me your leaf, will you?’

Clare reached into her toolbox and handed her the plasterer’s leaf tool. It was an implement they normally reserved for the most delicate jobs on-site. Clare watched Jo, entranced at the skill with which she wielded it, but with growing trepidation about what it might reveal. As Jo worked, the splodge became larger and gradually took on a smooth, domed appearance.

Clare felt something cold on her skin. ‘Did you feel that? I think it’s starting to spit.’

Jo ignored her. Without looking up, she said, ‘Grab another leaf and give me a hand, will you!’

Clare knelt down on the opposite side of the pit and within half an hour the two women had uncovered what even the untrained eye could tell was the skeleton of another infant. This one had no visible signs of injury and was lying on its side. It looked for all the world as if it was asleep.

Clare looked across at Jo. ‘Three was a sacred number in the Celtic world, you know.’

Jo just nodded. ‘We need to get this little one lifted before the rain sets in.’

‘I’ll nip down to the Portakabin and get the skeleton recording sheets and some bags.’

As she stood up she could see Crabby in full regalia striding determinedly towards them. ‘Shit.’

Jo asked, ‘What’s up?’

‘You’re about to find out.’

Crabby panted to a stop beside the side of the cutting. ‘Happy solstice!’

Clare smiled. ‘Happy solstice, Crabby! I’m surprised you’re not down at Stonehenge.’