The Two Confessions by John Whitbourn (good books to read for adults .TXT) 📕

Thatgot some grins. Master was in a good mood and on fine form today.

Samuelreviewed the section, strata by strata, and finally approved. It had taken himuntold curses and some sackings to get the diggings done as he wished, but nowthey knew how. Sides had to be plumb-bob straight and the base-layer brushedspeck-less. He'd hammered home the point that Mother Earth would only answerprecisely framed questions. She had to be seduced with trowel and hand-shovel,not ravished with a pick. Foreman had long ago got the point and then run withit. Now Trevan himself could not have done the work so well.

‘Oh,I see….’

He'dspotted the thin layer of black carbon concluding the inner edge.

‘That's'er, boss. I reckon the fort was fired. There were a palisade on top and ittumbled down ablaze to ‘ere.’

Trevanlooked closer. The man was probably right. They'd lifted history's veil.

‘Andthis just above is natural accumulation, I think,’ said Samuel.

‘Wind-blowand soil-creep,’ agreed Foreman. ‘So, she weren't repaired or cleared.The visitors done the fort in and then left her be.’

‘Whatabout dating material?’

‘Sea-pebblesling stones; nothing else yet.’

‘BelgaeCelts?’ Samuel hazarded.

‘Reckonso, boss. Caesar says they were slingers.’

Trevanwas impressed. Foreman read with pointing finger and moving lips but he'devidently battled through the ancient sources.

‘So,maybe the attackers were Romans?’

‘Couldbe, boss. I propose to take the ditch down to natural and then lift a strip ofinterior. That's where I hopes for pots and coins - for dating like.’

Samuelnodded. It was what he would have done.

‘Goodplan. Do it - but send word when you hit bottom. I want to sketch the rampartsection myself.’

‘Righty-ho.’

Foremanwas already scratching at the burnt layer before Trevan was even halfway backup the ladder. He started the ascent cheerful enough but arrived disgruntled atbeing puffed out. There was always something there in life to spit oncontentment.

‘What- are - you - lot - staring - at?’

Heknew the waiting workmen didn't deserve that and so felt even worse.

‘Finework though,’ he added, after pause for breath and when the labourers werehaving trouble trying to ignore his gasps. ‘Visit the Lewes Armstonight: there'll be a pound behind the bar.’

Thatreceived a ragged cheer. It was enough for merriment but not oblivion.Everything Mr Trevan did seemed just as carefully judged. They were wary ofhim.

Workresumed and Samuel was left alone to wander off.

AtCaburn's very top there was a view down into Lewes. He stood there and drank itin. For the thousandth time he told himself he'd won - and it still had thepower to please.

Fromthere Samuel could see St Philip's-in-Cliffe and the life-size Omar of bronzeoutside. Within, they'd be working on the St Guy's Day effigy he'd funded;their best and biggest yet. If it didn't win the Orphanage first prize for thethird year running Trevan would want to know the reason why.

Upthe rise of School Hill and High Street were Southover and Galen House, whichhe'd got from old man Farncombe and then glorified with marble. The Sicarii hadsquared him - and the Town panel - and everyone. Melissa said her fatherhadn't regained colour for two days after the Negro's call. Consequently, he'dgone to their grand wedding; apparently reconciled. Trevan and he even had some- halting - conversations in the years that followed, before father-in-lawobligingly upped and died. Samuel had arranged a very decent headstone,considering. With the eye of faith, its white angel in St Michael's churchyardwas just about visible from here. Samuel gloated over it. It was probably verycold in the ground this morning. He certainly hoped so.

Furtherafield was his Welsh wife, installed in comfort and Guildford, up in thedistant Surrey hills. He'd also got another woman stowed inPevensey-by-the-sea, whose conversation could keep him with her for a wholeevening, even after they'd been to bed. Trevan thought of each - and all theothers - fairly often, but they were really, at base (so to speak), justentertainments. The only one he had to have was nearby and kept close,currently doing whatever it was she did when he wasn't looking, in Southover.

Melissahad grown in girth just like Samuel (a man of the world complete with expandingequator). Likewise, she’d gone grey and lost her teeth. But there weren't twominutes together, not any day, when she wasn't in his thoughts one way or another.It was like longing for a thing and having it at the same time, all thetime: cake and eating it: a perpetual festival. And if they hadn't been blessedwith children to make things perfect, well: it wasn't for want of trying. Snowon the roof didn’t mean the fire had gone out. They'd had - and still had -their fun, and meanwhile Melissa mothered the Orphanage instead. It seemed tosuffice. Samuel had never so much as raised his voice to her, let alone a hand.There'd been no need.

Itwas November the second and an air of anticipation rose from the town like abuzz. From Trevan's vantage point he could count no less than seven hugebonfires in waiting. Everywhere people would be stockpiling fireworks andplanning mild mischief. Samuel personally sponsored two of the societies inaddition to the Orphanage effort. Lewes would have voted him Mayor if theChurch had permitted. It should have been a faultless vista for him to behold.

ButSamuel being Samuel, he sought faults to frown at and fight against. There wasinvariably something if you looked long enough. Today, he found it in the dunclouds over Horsham way. They were going nowhere at present but perhaps...?Trevan wondered if the rain would hold off, both from his excavation and the bonfirejollities.

Andspeaking of ‘buzzes’, the annoying inner resonance had returned to plague him.At first he'd thought it mere imagination, but recently that nice notion hadbeen laid to rest. His doctor said Samuel just had to live with it; a real butmysterious malfunction of the ageing ear. And true, the thing was bearable,only an intermittent pain; but all the same….

Evenso, considering his years he'd been pretty much blessed with good health. A lotof his contemporaries were already dead and buried. Whereas all he had tocontend with were visits from the 'rheumatiz' and times when his parts refusedto perform; plus maybe some recent fuzziness of vision