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court.’
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    Kate didn’t faint in court. She didn’t do anything in court, and neither did Graham. The whole day was filled – wasted, in their terms – by legal wrangling that could have taken place before the trial started. At least they’d been set free early. Would Graham assume they were going back to do a couple of hours’ work – which she needed to do? Or would he suggest a delicate bit of bunking off?
    His behaviour all day had given no clue. He, like her, had taken advantage of the wait to attack piles of portable paperwork, and their lunch-sandwich conversation had been about the frustrations of waiting and details of the fire. Should anyone have bothered to try to overhear what they’d been talking about, they’d have been impressed by their professionalism.
    In the watery sun that greeted them as they emerged into Corporation Street, he turned. ‘I wonder what time the museum closes? You haven’t talked to an archaeologist yet, have you?’
    It sounded almost like an accusation, which was rich since he knew exactly what she’d been doing all day. But his face implied no criticism.
    â€˜Not yet,’ she said mildly. ‘I’ll phone them from the office, as soon as I get in.’
    â€˜Why not pop up now?’
    Now that was an interesting suggestion from a man who’d bollocked her for bad time-keeping less than eight hours ago.
    â€˜Paperwork, Gaffer, that’s why. And then filing said paperwork. Plus, if the truth be told,’ she added, allowing a dimple to show, ‘I’ll bet the place would be closed by the time I get there – closed to casual visitors, at any rate. And it looks as if it’s about to rain.’
    So they walked back briskly together, in a peaceable silence.
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    Was it coincidence that they left their offices for home at almost the same instant? Possibly. It was on her part at least. At any rate, they fell into step.
    â€˜Did you get your filing done?’
    â€˜All of it. And I got through to the museum. They’ve got someone called an Assistant Keeper for Archaeology.’
    â€˜Have they indeed?’
    â€˜I presume they’ve got a keeper for him to be Assistant to. But my buttons aren’t grand enough for him. Anyway, I’ve arranged to take a couple round tomorrow lunchtime, other things being equal.’
    â€˜Meanwhile, they just lie there?’
    â€˜Well, they’ve lain there happily for the last hundred or so years. And Alf’s covered the site as tenderly as if it were a baby.’
    â€˜All the same …’ He held the door open for her. ‘Actually, Kate – I wonder if I might ask you a favour. My car’s in for a service, today – would you mind dropping me on the bus route?’
    She pointed to the rain swirling across the street. ‘I’ll drop you at home – or wherever it is you’re heading,’ she said. So it hadn’t been coincidence. But why hadn’t he asked earlier? Because, no doubt, his wife would expect him to go by bus; whatever the weather, she wouldn’t approve of the current arrangement.
    â€˜Thanks. I see you’re not taking any time off for the Easter break.’
    â€˜No. It always rains, and you only end up in miserable traffic jams. But I am off to watch the tennis on Sunday at the National Indoor Arena.’
    â€˜You’re getting very keen, aren’t you?’ He sounded amused.
    Squad gossip occupied the rest of the journey. And Graham started new topics whenever one ran dry. But he kept off the one thing she wanted to know – had almost been briefed to find out.
    At last, just as she was to turn into his road, she asked, point blank. ‘So are the rumours true, Gaffer? That you’ll be leaving us for fresh fields?’
    â€˜It’s actually, “Fresh woods and pastures new”,’ he said mock-pedantically. ‘And – just over there, on