Tilda swallows more hot coffee. She sighs, unsure how to tell him more. Uncertain just how much of the craziness he will be able to accept. She considers telling him about the bracelet. He might well have some ideas about its origins, and she knows it would be of serious interest to him. Perhaps even important to the dig. But she cannot be sure how he will react.

What if he decides it constitutes some sort of national treasure? He might make me give it up. Might take it off to be analyzed. I can’t let him take it. I can’t risk him doing that.

Into the hesitation in their conversation comes the sound of an engine laboring, growing louder. The noise is familiar to Tilda by now.

‘That’ll be Dylan,’ she says, getting up and slipping her coat back on.

The aged Landrover makes short work of the wintry conditions and powers its way up the hill. He gets out with his habitual energy and upbeat manner, but even from where she now stands in the garden, Tilda can detect the change in his body language at the sight of her visitor. She feels uncomfortable at him arriving and finding her with Lucas, though she knows she has no reason to. After all, this is her house. And Dylan has no cause to be jealous. Besides, it is far too early in their new and faltering relationship for anyone to be laying down conditions or becoming in any way possessive.

‘You’re early,’ she says, sounding cross when she hadn’t meant to.

‘I wanted to come and help,’ he says, looking a little hurt. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, I’m sorry.’ Feeling bad, Tilda tells him, ‘Lucas came to tell me they are resuming the dig. A couple of days after Christmas.’

‘We can’t stay here much longer,’ Lucas explains. ‘Digs are costly. And it’s not doing the contents of the trench any good having them exposed to all this weather. Really, the sooner we get everything out and back to the university the better.’

‘Can’t argue with that,’ Dylan says, rather pointedly greeting Tilda with a lingering kiss on the cheek. ‘Are you going to open that kiln up?’

‘Oh, it’s too soon, I think.’

‘It’s gone twelve.’

‘Already? I hadn’t realized.’ She looks from one man to the other, wishing them both somewhere else. Neither has any idea how significant this moment is for her.

‘I might leave it a little while,’ she says.

‘Really?’ Dylan is genuinely surprised. ‘It must be cool by now,’ he points out, and then, seeing her reluctance, adds, ‘but it’s up to you, Tilda. This is your baby,’ he says, smiling.

Tilda glances at Lucas, hoping against hope that he might decide he has something better to do and take himself off.

No such luck.

Dylan follows her gaze and says baldly, ‘Haven’t you got a hole to dig somewhere?’