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They’d dug down to a depth of about a metre in Cam’s trench and he was pretty sure they were through the spoil from the gardens. Large tarpaulin sheets covered the land on all four sides of the hole, their blue surfaces covered in a mishmash of stones, bricks and a jumble of random finds. It was still too early to tell the trash from the treasure, so they’d done their best to group the finds together by appearance and approximate age for now. Straightening up to loosen a knot in his back, Cam stared out over the tarpaulin to his right. It was covered in pieces of stone that matched the general appearance of the walls of the chapel. Here and there, he spotted hints of something wonderful – the curve of an arch, two pieces that slotted together to form the bottom half of what might be a ceiling boss. It was like one of those ‘world’s hardest jigsaw puzzles’ scaled up a hundred times.
He heard his name being called and turned to see Scott waving to get his attention. The young man was holding his phone up and Cam knew immediately what that meant. ‘Here we go,’ he muttered to himself. Clambering out of the trench, Cam dusted his jeans off and turned to Adam. ‘Can you keep an eye on things here?’
‘Sure, Cam.’ Adam glanced beyond him to where Scott was waiting and pulled a face. ‘Try not to punch Mr Willoughby, no matter how hard he pushes your buttons. We can’t afford for you to get locked up.’
Cam laughed. From the fierce glare on Adam’s face, it looked like he was the one contemplating giving Scott’s father a whack or two. He’d grown really protective of the lad and Cam had been pleased to see the way Scott had been thriving under his and Zoë’s attention. ‘That’s good advice, I suggest we both keep it in mind.’
Adam shot him a rueful smile. ‘I’ll do my best.’
Deciding to try to make a good impression from the off, Cam accompanied Scott up to the Hall to meet his father. They arrived to find both Hope and her mother had already swung into action, the pair of them chatting with Willoughby over tea and cakes at one of the tables and chair groupings which were set at discreet intervals around the impressive entrance hall.
‘Ah, here they are!’ Stevie said, gliding to her feet with that innate grace she had. ‘I was just telling your father what a help you were the other week at the party, Scott,’ she continued before turning back to Willoughby. ‘Such a delightful young man you’ve raised, he’s a credit to you.’
God bless you, Stevie. Cam hid his smile at the nonplussed look on Willoughby’s face. It was clear he wanted to be his usual scornful self, but in the face of a proper lady – a baron’s daughter, no less – it was clear he was trying to be on his best behaviour. He would be the sort of man who was impressed by titles, of course, and Stevie was looking every bit the lady in a neat black skirt, a cream silk blouse and a thick rope of pearls at her throat.
Hope was dressed in her usual work gear of a Juniper Meadows branded polo shirt, jeans and boots, but she had that same straight-backed deportment as her mother. She rose as well in one fluid motion, leaving Willoughby floundering for a moment in the deep leather bucket chair before he too stood.
‘Mama has arranged for Mr Willoughby’s luggage to be taken up to his room. We did offer luncheon, but Mr Willoughby is keen to visit the dig.’
Cam bit his lip at Hope’s use of both ‘Mama’ to refer to her mother and the word ‘luncheon’. Both she and Stevie were laying it on with a trowel, but you’d have to know them as well as he did to understand they weren’t ones for airs and graces. Though both women were smiling, there was still a tension between them. Not wanting to deepen the rift in the family, Hope had decided against moving in with Cam at the lodge and was splitting her evenings between there and the farmhouse. Given how stilted things were between Hope and Stevie, Cam was beyond grateful they’d still found time to put on this charade for his sake. ‘Well, we’re ready whenever you are.’ Cam looked Willoughby up and down, judged his cords and checked shirt more than acceptable for being on site, he wasn’t sure about the leather moccasins, though. ‘Do you have any other shoes with you?’
‘I’ve brought some trainers because I wanted to check out the gym, but that’s all.’ Willoughby glanced between Cam’s, Scott’s and Hope’s boots. ‘I don’t want to be trekking around in the mud in them. They’re Moncler.’ The name meant nothing to Cam and that must have shown on his face because Willoughby scowled and snapped, ‘They cost me four hundred quid.’
‘No one cares about your designer trainers, Dad,’ Scott said with rather more bravery than Cam might have expected. ‘I’ve got a spare pair of boots in my locker you can borrow.’
‘What you’re wearing should be fine,’ Cam conceded. ‘It’s still very early days, so we’ve only opened up the first few trenches this week. You might have been better off waiting longer for a visit until we’ve made more progress. I’m afraid you might be disappointed.’ The moment the words were out, Cam regretted his choice.
‘I’m already disappointed that my son has chosen to waste his time grubbing around in the dirt instead of focusing on a proper course that will set him up for the future,’ Willoughby said with that familiar sneer. Just as a leopard couldn’t change its spots, it seemed there was a limit to the amount of deference Willoughby could show before his natural arrogance took over. He adjusted the band of the large watch on his wrist, another designer brand, no doubt. ‘Come on then,’ he barked at Scott. ‘Show me what it is that’s so bloody special about a few old lumps of stone in the ground.’
Once they arrived at the site, things didn’t improve. Willoughby didn’t try to hide his impatience as Declan took him through a visitor safety briefing. ‘Yes, yes, I’m not an idiot,’ he said, trying to cut the site manager off halfway through. ‘I do run my own business, you know, and this isn’t my first time on a site. Can we just get on with it?’
Declan stared pointedly at Willoughby’s footwear then back up at him. ‘You have two choices. You let me finish this briefing or you take yourself back to the spa where I’m sure the ladies there will pamper you in the manner you’re accustomed to.’
Deciding he didn’t want to get caught in the middle of a pissing contest and trusting Declan to deal with the situation, Cam steered Scott towards the door. ‘Come on, let’s fetch those boots for your dad in case he decides he wants them after all.’ Without an audience to perform to, perhaps Willoughby wouldn’t need to flex his ego.
They made it into the welfare cabin before Scott burst out, ‘God, why is he always like this?’
‘Our backgrounds are sometimes hard to escape from,’ Cam said as he leaned one shoulder against the row of lockers. He’d been giving the matter some thought since discovering Willoughby had booked a visit, hoping to find some common ground for Scott’s sake, or at least to try to understand what made the other man tick. ‘Your dad has fought his way up from nothing to run a really successful business. I’m not making excuses for the way he behaves, but I can empathise somewhat because I had to get over some people’s expectation I was going to fail because of where I came from. I’ve tried not to carry the shadow of that with me, though I’m not always successful.’
Cam paused, wondering if he should continue with his train of thought. ‘When your dad pulled strings and got you back on the course, I was furious because I saw that as him exploiting the privilege of his position.’ When Scott looked downcast, Cam gave him a reassuring smile. ‘I’m glad we got you back, even if I don’t approve of the methods. I know this stuff with your dad is stressing you out, but give yourself some space and time and you’ll find a way to get through it. And don’t forget to keep reaching out for help. We’re a team. Try and remember that.’
Scott pulled his spare boots out of his locker and closed the door with a decisive click. ‘He’s going to be embarrassing, we both know that.’
Cam nodded. ‘But the only person he’s embarrassing is himself. I know it might not seem like that to you—’
‘It doesn’t,’ Scott said, cutting across him. ‘But thanks anyway.’ And that, Cam decided, was his cue to shut up.
Cam took his time as he walked Willoughby around the perimeter of the site. He started up near the chapel, pointed out the size of the broken window arch still visible and how its dimensions indicated a building of some significance. He pointed to the cordoned-off area and spoke about the earlier discovery of a crypt and how that was one of the things they’d be looking for later in the project. He scrubbed his finger along the soot marks and explained his theory about the potential destruction being down to the recovery of resources like lead from the roof by the local community, explained about the stonework in some of the cottages in the village and how it wasn’t unusual for people to use whatever was to hand at the time, even if that seemed incomprehensible to modern sensibilities.
As they strolled back towards where the team was working, Cam continued his explanation. ‘Consider a site with the renown of Avebury. It’s a World Heritage Site and arguably one of the most well-known prehistoric monuments after Stonehenge. The significance of the site to our ancient ancestors is not lost to us today and we can marvel at its existence. During the medieval and Middle Ages, when people were in the full grip of Christianity, it would’ve been seen as something strange and sinister, certainly not of God’s making. Large parts of the circle and the avenues were destroyed, the stones pushed over, some buried, others smashed up and used to build dwellings. You can see evidence of that in the village today.’
Willoughby thrust his hands in his pockets and glanced around. ‘Are you trying to compare a few tumbled stones and a couple of holes in the ground to some ancient wonder of the world?’ His tone clearly said he thought the whole thing was a joke.
Cam smiled, though he wanted to grit his teeth. ‘Not at all, I was just offering a parallel example of when communities have repurposed historical remains for their own use.’
‘So, what have you found then?’
Knowing he’d put him off as long as possible, Cam led the other man towards where Cassie and Ed were supervising the excavation of the nearest trench. ‘Honestly, at the moment, it’s a bit of a mystery.’
