Autumn Leaves at Mill Grange by Jenny Kane (the little red hen ebook .txt) 📗

son. His mother and I split some time ago. She has just moved to Devon, and I want to be as near to Dylan as I can be.’

‘Which part of Devon, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Tina asked.

‘Tiverton. So, just fifteen miles from here.’

‘Thank you, Tom.’ Tina glanced at Thea as if to ask if she had any other questions. Receiving a negative shake of the head, Tina wrapped it up. ‘I think it’s time we introduced you to Sam and let you see the excavation. Do you have any questions before we move on?’

‘Not so far. Thank you.’ Tom hoped the women hadn’t noticed his exhalation of relief as the first interview hurdle was completed.

*

Shaun stared at the tarpaulin. It hadn’t been in the best condition anyway, but now it was a mangled mass of twisted blue plastic. Seeing it thrown to the side of the east side of the ancient church, something inside Shaun snapped.

Trying to hold up the excavation by deliberately misplacing things was bad enough, but actively damaging site property; that was too much.

Glad he’d been the first back to the site after lunch, Shaun was on his phone in seconds, advising Phil to tell the others they had an hour extra break, but that he should get to the church now.

The producer arrived at a run, his face red, his chest puffing like a pair of bellows and he stared at the mess that had once been the tarpaulin. ‘It could have blown off I suppose.’

Shaun glared at Phil in disbelief.

‘It’s possible.’ The producer scowled.

Shaun picked up the torn thick plastic sheeting. ‘Please don’t tell me you think a fox came along and unpegged this, before throwing it to one side.’

‘Okay, perhaps not.’ Phil sighed. ‘But why do this? Who could it be?’

‘The same person who “misplaced” the trowels, broke the JCB and quite possibly, stole my phone.’

‘You really think so?’

Shaun hadn’t been sure until he’d said the words out loud, but now he felt certain. ‘All of those things have slowed us down.’

‘You think someone wants to keep us here longer?’ Phil picked up a corner of the tangled tarpaulin.

‘Or someone doesn’t want us to film at Mill Grange.’

‘But why?’ Phil helped Shaun manhandle it into a folded pile. ‘And if they really wanted to stop our progress, why not do something more extreme? Why not nick all the trowels?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘If we make too much of it then Lady Hammett will kick us off. We’re so near to the end of filming.’

A thought arrived in Shaun’s mind that he didn’t like. ‘Phil, wasn’t it Lady Hammett who insisted we didn’t have a security team here?’

‘Yes, she was most insistent.’ Phil paused in the act of flattening out the plastic covering, his eyebrows knotting as he realised what Shaun was suggesting. ‘You have got to be kidding. Lady Hammett would never do this.’

‘Why not? Look at the positive publicity Guron is getting while we’re here. Free publicity. Once we’ve gone it won’t be the same.’

‘But we can’t accuse her of sabotage! We have no proof! And if we did, and we’re wrong, the consequences don’t bear thinking about.’ Phil shook his head. ‘It can’t be her. It must be someone from outside the dig – although God knows who or why.’

‘Maybe.’ Shaun raked a hand through his hair. ‘But if it is her, then there might be a way I could find out.’

Twenty-Nine

September 22nd

‘A fine regiment.’

Tom picked up the mug of coffee Thea had passed to him as he acknowledged Sam’s compliment. ‘It was an honour to serve the Royal Anglians.’

‘Part of the Queen’s Division no less.’ Sam was impressed. ‘Sierra Leone? Afghan?’

‘And the former Yugoslavia for a while.’

‘Heavy going.’ Sam nodded as he carried on. ‘You resigned your commission when you were in your mid-thirties? I’m assuming it was your age that made the decision to leave for you?’

Already feeling as if he was having a chat with a fellow former squaddie rather than a potential employer, Tom grinned. ‘Ain’t that the truth. I was older than my sergeant by six years, and it was beginning to show.’

‘You didn’t fancy going up the ranks?’

‘I’m not officer material. You needed at least three silver spoons in the drawer before that lot would even look at you. Believe me, all my spoons are plastic.’

Tina glanced sideways to see how the earl’s son would react, but Sam just smiled and carried on asking about how Tom thought his army training could help here, with former, often troubled, ex-services personnel.

As Tina listened, she realised Sam had never told her what rank he’d been in the forces. She was astonished she hadn’t asked him. The Tina Martin before she’d met Sam, before Thea had first come to Mill Grange, would have wanted to know immediately.

Snapping out of her moment’s uncomfortable introspection, Tina heard Tom talk about exercise planning and the invisible confidence-boosting exercises he’d used when he was in the army, and how he’d applied them to the role he was giving up so he could be near his son.

When she’d peeked at Thea’s notes as they’d interviewed Tom inside, Tina had seen her friend scribble: “Is Mill Grange safe for children to live in?” It was a good point, and one that would need to be addressed if they offered Tom the job.

Tina turned her attention to Sam. She could tell he liked Tom. His body language, often restrained with strangers, was relaxed, and she suspected they’d chat for hours if she didn’t rein them in.

Waiting until there was a pause between questions, Tina put down her coffee cup. ‘Perhaps we should go and meet Helen?’

Sam got to his feet. ‘Quite right. It’s high time you saw the excavation you’d be training from.’

As Tom walked with Sam, following the slope of the garden downwards towards where the grass met the edge of the woods, and the section of fortlet that was being worked on, Tina hung back. She tapped Thea’s arm, silently communicating