‘Probably just got carried away. Isn’t that what he said? They tell me it’s addictive – like gambling. You keep thinking you’ll miss something if you don’t just try for a few more minutes. And it’s all very Roman around here. Maybe he thought there was ancient treasure to find, as well.’
‘What’s this?’ came Thea’s voice behind them. ‘I thought we weren’t supposed to be thinking about that.’
‘What?’ said Jessica.
‘Gold jewellery and dead men in the woods, and people who are our friends getting into trouble.’
‘We weren’t talking about any of that. It comes under the heading of banned topics of conversation.’
‘Drew can’t hear me. Anyway, the day’s almost over now. You must admit I did a good job. I think I deserve a star.’
‘You just did what about five million other women have done, all across the country.’
‘Ungrateful brat,’ said Thea.
‘That’s probably what the five million other women are thinking – and saying – at this very moment, as well.’
‘I’m grateful,’ said Stephanie brightly.
‘Careful,’ Jessica warned her. ‘Even you can go too far in the sainthood stakes.’
Thea laughed. ‘Oh well – it’s been nice, whatever you say. And right after breakfast tomorrow I’m going to go back to being my old self, and might well start with a phone call to Antares Frowse.’
To her own surprise, Stephanie felt like cheering. Then she visualised the scene back indoors, with the underlying friction between all the adults, and the unresolved issues floating around, and she felt a powerful desire to stay outdoors a bit longer. ‘Can I see if I can find Mr Shipley?’ she asked Drew.
‘What? Why? Where do you think he is?’
‘He’s probably at home, although his car isn’t in the drive. I could go and knock on his door. I want to tell him about my new chess set.’
‘No, love. I don’t think so. Not by yourself.’
‘Timmy can come with me, then.’
But Timmy didn’t want to. He had toys he had not yet examined, and besides that he was tired. Stephanie began to feel mulish. ‘It’s just across the road. You could hear me if I shouted.’
Thea intervened. ‘She’s been worrying about him since yesterday, spending Christmas by himself. We don’t know for sure, of course, that he did. He might easily have been invited to be with people somewhere.’
‘The music’s still playing,’ Jessica pointed out. ‘Which is a bit odd, when you think about it.’
‘Just go quickly, then. We’ll give you fifteen minutes to do your bit of Christian charity,’ Drew decided. ‘After that, we’ll come looking for you.’
‘We’re meant to be playing more games, don’t forget,’ said Thea, with a glint of determination in her eye. Games were starting to feel like more of a duty than a pleasure to them all.
Stephanie crossed the road, still in an obstinate frame of mind. She had been out in the village by herself numerous times. She knew the paths and shortcuts, and how to avoid being mown down by traffic. She and Hepzie were familiar to all the permanent residents. She enjoyed solitary strolls around the fields, like a child from a much earlier time. It helped her to think, which was something she needed to do at this moment.
With deliberate disobedience, she checked for any watching relative, and then turned to the left, avoiding Mr Shipley’s house altogether. She was going to go down to the houses by the church, and look at their decorations through their uncurtained windows. It wasn’t yet quite dark outside, but people would have turned their lights on indoors. It was always fascinating to peer in at this time of day. If she gave herself ten minutes, before finally seeking out Mr Shipley, all would be well.
The fading light gave everything a dreamy atmosphere, and it was great to be out of the house, wearing a woolly hat and scarf and not seeing another human being. She could pretend it was two hundred years ago, when a girl her age would be either working, or acting as an assistant teacher in a small local school. Before education was compulsory, when most people could barely read, she assumed she would have been one of the clever ones, with parents who valued learning. Before Queen Victoria; before electricity or cars or indoor lavatories – it was all deeply fascinating, and barely credible. At the big school, the history teacher had instantly become Stephanie’s favourite. They had been taken on a trip to Cirencester to look at Roman stuff, but that paled in comparison with the project they had done on local industry. Two centuries ago there had been needle-making in Chalford, and weaving everywhere. It was all done by hand, in poor light, for hardly any money. Girls of Stephanie’s age were an important part of the workforce. They had very little free time, and scarcely any luxuries. With all the talk of giving up fossil fuels and not using plastic any more, she made the inevitable connection to those pre-industrial days, finding the idea of going back to something similar more than a little enticing.
Drew had understood and partly agreed. After all, his funerals were more or less the same as they’d been in the 1820s. ‘And how wonderful if everyone put their phones away,’ he’d joked.
That had made her think again. What if there were no more planes or computers or washing machines or meat? All things she had heard listed as no longer acceptable. ‘That’s all a bit too extreme for me,’ said Dad, when she voiced her worries. ‘And one thing’s for sure – you can never go back. Whatever happens, it won’t be the same as it’s been before.’
Another person who had encouraged such thoughts was Ant. He was naturally inclined to a simple life, wearing the same clothes for years and waging war on plastic, but even he had a phone and
