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Chapter 9

‘You’re not looking your normal sunny self this morning, Virginia.’ Samantha dropped her bag on her desk and came across to her head of department. She wasn’t feeling very sunny either, after a weekend of rows and raised voices with Neil. As usual, the archaeology lab smelt of decay. Virginia also looked pretty rotten this morning. ‘Something wrong?’

Virginia Greenway handed her a sheet of paper. At first, Sam couldn’t make head or tail of it. The letterhead belonged to a firm of solicitors in Zurich, Switzerland. As she started to read down through, Virginia supplied a précis.

‘No way we’re going to be allowed onto Rock Island.’

Samantha scanned the letter, noting the reference to our clients, whose identity we are not at liberty to reveal. The last words of the final paragraph were unequivocal: We are therefore unable to grant access to the Abbey of Saint Bernard or any part of Rock Island. Unsurprised, she sighed and looked up.

‘Bugger.’

‘Bugger, indeed.’ Virginia was glowering. She reached out and took the letter back from Sam and threw it onto her desk. ‘Bloody Swiss. Who do they think they are?’

Samantha decided to leave her alone to vent her spleen and returned to her own desk. As she did so, the door opened and Becky came in. Seeing the look on Virginia’s face, she flicked a glance across to Sam. ‘Trubble at t’mill?’

Sam gave a brief explanation. Becky looked disappointed. ‘What a shame! I was checking it out the other day. It really does look like the most amazing place. It must be heaving with millionaires. And, coincidentally, here’s me on the lookout for a millionaire.’

‘Still no sign of Chris Martin or any other rock star?’

Becky shook her head despondently. ‘Not many of those around the university. And what about you? Any improvement on the home front?’

Samantha shook her head sadly. ‘The opposite, I’m afraid.’ Rather than get drawn into a post mortem of her awful weekend, she decided that mugs of tea were in order, so she headed for the electric kettle. She caught Virginia’s eye and raised a mug in the air, receiving a distracted nod in response. She made the tea and distributed the mugs, returning to sit down beside Becky again. She glanced across at her. ‘So, if there aren’t any rock stars, any other men on the horizon?’

At that moment, the door opened and Ryan came in.

‘Hi, Ryan, how was your holiday?’ Once again, Samantha reflected that he would make an ideal boyfriend for Becky, but for some reason, she never seemed to respond to his advances. He was a tall boy, a few years younger than Sam, closer to Becky’s age. He had red hair and the sort of pale skin with freckles that seems to cry out for factor fifty sun block. Still, he was quite good-looking and he was clearly infatuated with Becky. He waved to Virginia and came over to take a seat next to Becky. As the water in the kettle was still hot, Sam got up to make him a cup of tea. When she got back, he was still recounting his adventures in Turkey. She glanced out of the window. The sun was still shining brightly over the city, so she settled down to listen to his tale without wanting to throttle him out of sheer jealousy.

‘Anyway, I’ve got a load of photos. Why don’t we meet up in the pub this evening and I’ll show them to you?’ Sam caught Becky’s eye. She read complete disinterest. Before Becky could say anything unfortunate, Sam leapt in.

‘Can’t manage tonight, Ryan. Becky’s coming running with me.’

‘I am? I mean, oh yes.’ Becky hastily corrected herself. ‘Of course I am. I’m on a fitness campaign, Ryan. Maybe some other time.’

Sam noted the look of disappointment on his face and sighed for him.