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of a pocket. She had taken advice from the Chartered Institute for Archaeologists about how to correctly run a private dig, then waited weeks for clearance to dig from the Council for British Archaeology, and permission to excavate from the authorities running Exmoor National Park. Now the time had come to take the first tentative look at the site. Although Thea knew she couldn’t possibly excavate the fortlet alone, she could at least mark it out.

Double-checking the survey results, Thea pushed the first peg into the damp earth, unable to suppress the beam that crossed her face as she wound the string around the peg.

A Roman site on Exmoor.

She knew how important that was; how rare. While Exmoor was ringed by a few forts on its southern side, only two fortlets had ever been found across its vast space. Old Burrow had been there first, but had soon been replaced by Martinhoe on the coast, which overlooked the waterway to Bristol, Wales and beyond. There was also a Roman fort at Rainsbury, on the far south-eastern side of the moor, but little else. Although there was ongoing exploration into the idea that the Romans had exploited Exmoor for its iron deposits, the discovery of a fortlet so far inland was completely unexpected.

As she worked, Thea pictured the original occupants of the site. There’d only have been about seventy of them, living on a site made up of concentric circles, no bigger than fifty or sixty metres in diameter, with square structures – stores and outhouses – to the sides. Had they been lonely here? Were they Romano-British soldiers, or were they freshly picked from elsewhere in the Empire, finding the very particular cold of the wind as it crossed Exmoor’s open plains a nasty shock after Mediterranean sunshine?

While the purpose of Martinhoe’s fortlet had been to keep an eye on the fleet across the Bristol Channel, the reason for the placing of Upwich’s fortlet remained a mystery. A mystery Thea was determined to solve.

Three

September 1st

‘Is there a job we could give Mabel? Bert’s worried about her.’ Tugging a third pair of socks over her feet, Tina continued getting ready for bed – a process that involved putting on more clothing than she wore during the day.

Privately cursing his inability to conquer his phobia, knowing that if he did, Tina would be taking her clothes off, rather than piling them on, Sam passed her a hot water bottle. His guilt at making her sleep outside overtook his lust-fuelled regrets as he saw Tina try to hide a shiver.

‘I’ll have a think. There must be loads she can do. Mabel’s a dab hand at most things.’ Sam watched as Tina undid the pigtails she’d worn all the day. He loved how the plaits curled and kinked her hair as she let it loose. ‘We are a bit short on money for wages though. I hate asking people to work for nothing.’

‘Bert said that was okay. Anyway, we will have income soon. If Mabel is happy and takes a job she’s good at, maybe she could eventually go on the payroll?’

‘Definitely, although I’m not sure when. Everything I had went on the house, and…’ Sitting up in his sleeping bag, Sam suddenly changed the subject: ‘Tina, do you want to sleep inside tonight?’

‘What? But…’

Taking her hands, noting they were cold despite her gloves, Sam spoke fast, knowing Tina would assume she’d done something wrong if he didn’t explain. ‘It isn’t that I don’t want you here, but it’s getting colder at night, and although you’re far too nice to say so, I know you’re having trouble sleeping. I wouldn’t be offended if you used your room in the attic. I wish I could come with you. I want to. Very much.’ Sam stroked Tina’s chilled face.

Shuffling her sleeping bag closer, Tina kissed him slowly on the lips. ‘Bert was only saying earlier what a good man you are, and he’s right.’

‘Hardly. A good man would not expect his girlfriend to freeze every night.’

‘You don’t. I’m here because I want to be.’ Tina lifted her padded arms out to the sides and started to giggle. ‘I look like the Michelin Man – or Michelin Woman, rather.’

‘A very sexy one, though.’

Tina winked. ‘Don’t tell me, it’s the extra thick body warmer that sends your pulse racing.’

‘Almost as much as the three pairs of socks and the thermal trousers.’

Tucking herself under his arm, Tina kissed Sam’s cheek. ‘It is getting harder to settle at night, but it’s worth it. It won’t be forever. This is a stage you have to go through, and I want to be there to support you.’

‘I’d do anything for you – you know that don’t you, Tina?’

‘Anything?’

‘Anything.’ Sam kissed the end of her nose. ‘Except cut off my ponytail; so don’t waste your breath.’

Pulling him down on top of her Tina muttered, ‘As if I’d ask you to remove your one act of rebellion.’ She gave the offending article a playful tug. ‘Come on; prove to me how adept your services training made you at battling through hundreds of layers of clothing to reach your goal.’

September 2nd

Sam stood by the kitchen door watching Thea and Tina making coffee. His toes were level with the step that marked the divide between house and garden. He knew this was progress. A month ago he’d have been hyperventilating at the thought of the enclosed space ahead. Now, providing he could feel the air of the open countryside behind him, he could cope. He tried to be proud of himself, but couldn’t. It wasn’t nearly enough progress if he was going to be able to manage this place properly.

Pushing aside his sense of failure for the moment, Sam called across the kitchen, ‘I’ve had an idea about Mabel.’

‘Go on.’ Tina smiled as she raised a cup as if to offer a drink.

‘She’s a good cook, isn’t she?’

‘Very.’ Thea nodded. ‘I remember that lasagne Mabel produced after the mill burnt down. It was heavenly;

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