‘More important things to do than spend time with his aged relative, of course.’

‘I’m a diver. My job takes me abroad a lot.’

‘But on this occasion his work has brought him to my doorstep.’

‘I’ve been hired by the archeologists at the far end of the lake.’

‘Oh,’ Tilda is suddenly interested, ‘I’ve seen them there. What is it they’re looking for?’

The professor laughs, ‘Well, Dylan has been searching for the Afanc since he was a boy.’

‘The what?’ she asks.

‘Just Uncle Illtyd’s little joke,’ Dylan assures her. ‘The diggers are after the usual—you know, bits of buildings, weapons, coins, jewelry…’

‘And bones,’ Professor Williams puts in.

‘Bones?’ Tilda wants to know more.

The professor hands around cups of tea as he tells her, ‘Every archeologist will assure you they are searching for treasures that reveal secrets about people long dead. We fondly imagine these to be piles of gold or valuable gems, but in fact, nothing tells us more about a people than their bones. Science has made such strides … When I was at Oxford we had to content ourselves with measuring things. Now, tests can be done to pinpoint exact dates when people lived or died, their age, their nationality, what they ate, what diseases and parasites afflicted them … all from the smallest fragment of a smashed skull, or perhaps a few teeth in a broken jawbone. Remarkable, really. Shortbread, anyone?’

At that moment the grandfather clock begins to strike the hour. Tilda tenses, listening.

Three, four, five, six …

The chiming stops. She knows it was after seven when she left the cottage. When the professor comments on how curious it is that the clock has stopped, she cannot think of anything to say that will not give away the consternation she is feeling.

What next? I have to leave. Now.

‘I … I should be going,’ she says, coaxing Thistle from the rug.

Dylan looks surprised. ‘Aren’t you going to drink your tea?’

‘It’s late. I hadn’t realized. I have work I should be getting on with. I’m sorry.’

‘Me too,’ he says, just as his uncle comes back into the room.

‘Most peculiar. I’ve had that clock, ooh, twenty years or more, and it’s been completely reliable. In these last few weeks however … Oh, are you on your way?’

‘I should be in my studio. I’ve rather a lot to catch up with, you know, what with the move…’

‘Of course. Here, why don’t you borrow these?’ He hands her the two books he had selected for her, and then quickly takes another from a high shelf. ‘And this one, I think,’ he says, nodding to himself. ‘Yes, I think this might have something of what you are looking for.’