The Long Eared Owl sounds like he made him up but Ruth can see that David is genuinely worried. 'I'm sure we won't go near the hide,' she says soothingly. 'The trenches are all over to the south.'
David stands up, still looking anxious. 'By the way,'
Ruth calls after him, 'thanks for looking after Flint. My cat.' She had meant to get him a box of chocolates or something.
His face is transformed by a sudden smile. 'That's OK,'
he says. 'Any time.'
David is looking over towards the car park. Following his gaze, Ruth sees a familiar dirty Mercedes coming to a halt by the bird sanctuary notice board. Nelson, wearing jeans and a battered Barbour, gets out and strides towards the trench. Unconsciously, Ruth rubs her muddy hands on her trousers and tries to smooth her hair.
'Hello Ruth.' Ruth is fed up with looking up at people.
She heaves herself out of the trench.
'Hello.'
'Bit of a circus, isn't it?' says Nelson, looking round disapprovingly at the archaeologists swarming over the site. The dreadlocked girl chooses this moment to start singing a high-pitched folk song. Nelson winces.
'It's all very organised,' says Ruth. 'Anyway, you gave permission for the dig.'.
'Yes, well, I need all the help I can get.'
'Did you find anything at the henge circle?'
'Not a thing.' Nelson is silent, looking out, past the pegged-out trenches and the neat mounds of soil, towards the sea. He is thinking, she is sure, of the morning when they found Scarlet's body.
'I saw you yesterday,' says Nelson, 'at the funeral.'
'Yes,' says Ruth.
'Good of you to go.'
'I wanted to.'
Nelson looks as if he is going to say something else, but at that moment a familiar lilting voice cuts in. 'Ah, Chief Inspector…' It is Erik.
As far as Ruth knows, this is a promotion for Nelson, but he doesn't offer a correction. He greets Erik fairly cordially, and after a few words with Ruth the two men walk away talking intently. Ruth feels unaccountably irritated.
By
lunchtime she is tired and fed up. She is considering sneaking off back to her cottage for a cup of tea and a hot bath when two slim hands wrap themselves over her eyes.
'Guess who?'
Ruth breaks free. She has recognised the perfume anyhow. Shona.
Shona flops down on the grass next to Ruth. 'Well?' she asks, smiling, 'found anything interesting?'
As usual Shona looks stunning despite (because of?) looking as if she hasn't tried. Her long hair is caught up in a messy bun and she is wearing jeans that make her legs look like pipe-cleaners and a puffy silver jacket which only emphasises her slimness. I'd look like a walking duvet wearing that, thinks Ruth.
'Just some more coins,' she says. 'Nothing much.'
'Where's Erik?' asks Shona, slightly too casually Ruth thinks.
'Talking to Nelson.'
'Really?' Shona raises her eyebrows at Ruth. 'I thought they couldn't stand each other.'
'So did I but they seem matey enough now.'
Then,' says Shona lightly, pulling her jacket more tightly round her. 'It's bloody freezing. How long are you going to stay?'
'I was just thinking of going back to the house for a cup of tea.'
'What are we waiting for then?'
CHAPTER 21
On the way back to the house, Ruth wrestles with her conscience. Shona has really been very kind to her, letting her stay with her at a moment's notice. Ruth hasn't even thanked her properly, just disappeared yesterday leaving a brief answerphone message. She needs to go back and pick up her things. Shona has been a good friend to her over the years. When Ruth split up with Peter, she provided a shoulder to cry on plus several vats of white wine. They have spent countless evenings together, laughing, talking, crying. They even went on holiday together, to Italy, Greece and Turkey. Is Ruth really going to let Cathbad's spiteful rumours get in the way of this friendship?
'I'm sorry about taking off like that,' she says at last.
'For some reason after the funeral I just wanted to be at home.'
They have reached that home now. Ruth opens the door for Shona.
'That's OK,' says Shona. 'I completely understand. Was it awful, the funeral?'
'Yes,' says Ruth, putting on the kettle. 'It was terrible.
The parents were just shattered. And the little coffin… it was all too heart-breaking.'
'I can imagine,' says Shona, sitting down and taking off the silver jacket. 'There can't be anything worse than losing a child.'
Everyone says that, thinks Ruth, maybe because it's true.
It's difficult to imagine anything worse than burying your child, a complete inversion of the natural order of things.
Briefly, she thinks of Lucy Downey's parents walking away from the funeral, arm-in-arm. Was that worse? To lose your daughter and not be able to say goodbye?
She makes tea and sandwiches and they sit there companionably in silence. Outside it has started to rain, which strengthens Ruth's resolve not to go back to the dig.
Eventually Ruth says, 'I saw Cathbad yesterday.'
'Who?'
'Michael Malone. You know, the one they questioned about Scarlet's murder.'
'Jesus! Where did you see him?'
'Here. He came to talk to me.'
'Bloody hell, Ruth.' Shona shivers. 'I'd have been terrified.'
'Why?'
asks Ruth, even though she had been so scared that she had slept last night with a kitchen knife by her bed. 'He wasn't charged with the murder, you know.'
'I know, but even so. What did he want?'
'Said he wanted me to clear his name.'
'What a cheek.'
'Yes, I suppose so,' says Ruth, who has been obscurely flattered.
'What's he like, this Cathbad?'
Ruth looks at her. 'Don't you remember him? He remembers you.'
What?' Shona has taken out her combs and shaken out her hair. She stares at Ruth, apparently bewildered.
'Don't you remember him from the henge dig? He was the leader of the druids. Always wore this big, purple cloak.
He remembers you were sympathetic to them, joined in the protests.'
Shona smiles. 'Cathbad… Now I remember. Well, he was quite a gentle soul as I recall.'
'Erik says he has magic powers.'
Now Shona laughs aloud. 'Dear old Erik.'
'Cathbad says you had an affair with Erik.'
'What?'
