“Yes, that’s understandable,” Verity conceded. “He was always the hands-on one, though Charlie would muck in when needed. I did ask Finn last week whether he needed me to draft in anyone else to help on the archive side, but he said rather shortly that he’d got a student working with him now and that for the time being he preferred to focus on the archaeology.”

“He did ask if I’d like to help with the paperwork side of things,” Lucy admitted, “but I wasn’t keen. I didn’t think he’d appreciate a rank amateur getting involved.”

Verity snorted. “He wouldn’t have asked you if he didn’t mean it. Finn’s very direct.”

“I’d spotted that,” Lucy said dryly.

“How is he?” Verity’s tone had changed. Lucy sensed her aunt’s concern but also a note of affection. She’d already acknowledged to herself that Finn had to be a good guy for Verity to employ him, especially given that he had the run of the place whilst she was abroad. But it seemed Verity more than rated Finn; she liked him as well.

“I don’t really know,” Lucy admitted. “I don’t see much of him. He’s obviously still very cut up over Charlie’s death. That must have been a horrible time.”

“It was ghastly,” Verity said. “I wasn’t at the cottage the weekend it happened, but I came down as soon as I heard. They were so close, Finn and Charlie, and they made a great team. The strange thing was that Charlie was always such a careful driver. He flatly refused to drive my car, saying he’d stick to the Land Rover. Finn said he’d had a near miss as a teen driving in Scotland; he almost killed someone apparently. So for him to have crashed off the road seems completely incomprehensible.”

They chatted a bit more, sharing family news and talking about Verity’s next consultancy, which would be advising on mine reclamation projects.

“I’ll be based in the UK for a while,” Verity said. “It’ll be great to be home for a change.” She rang off with a request that Lucy should tell Finn that she had checked the ground surveys from the time the barn had been converted and could confirm that there had been no obvious anomalies suggesting garden features. “I like his idea of that flat platform being a part of the design,” she said, “but the only thing that showed up was a sort of pit in the center of the floor.”

“Did you open it?” Lucy asked.

“No,” Verity said. “It was sealed up and there was no indication of anything underneath. We thought it was probably a storage pit for fruit or vegetables dating back to the Victorian kitchen garden.”

“Right,” Lucy said. “I’ll tell Finn.” She felt her heart sink a little at the thought she would need to go and speak to him. She’d deliberately kept away from the cottage, not wanting Finn to think she pitied him and was dropping around to try to cheer him up, or equally that she was needy and wanted company herself. She sighed as she realized she was overthinking things as usual. She made a mental note to go to see him later but didn’t specify when “later” would be.