Six

That evening, when they finish work, Edward sends the others back to the Wardhouse without him.

There is something he wants to do.

As they pack up, he notices that Eric has already gone, but he knows where he lives, and he takes a slightly different path out of the meadow, into the lane, and up the steps to Eric’s front door.

He knocks and waits.

It’s quiet inside, and he wonders if he has made a mistake, but then he hears soft footsteps and the door opens.

A woman stands in front of him. She is about his own age, and has an open, kind face.

“Yes?” she says. Then, “Oh, I know who you are. You’re the archaeologist, aren’t you? Speak of the Devil! Eric has been telling me all about you. Won’t you come in and have some tea?”

Edward is a little thrown. He can’t imagine Eric saying much at all, for one thing.

“I … that’s very kind. I just wanted to come and thank Eric for his help today. We couldn’t have managed without him.”

The woman laughs.

“Think nothing of it. It is I who should be thanking you. Please, come in and have some tea. We don’t get so many visitors.”

Edward finds that surprising, because the woman is lovely. Yes, she’s middle aged, as he is, but the lines around her eyes only seem to highlight their elegance. But maybe Eric keeps people away, maybe some people aren’t comfortable with someone like …

Someone like what?

Edward tells himself off. He’s just another human being, he’s different, in his own way. Just like everyone.

Though he’s still surprised that Eric’s mother says he’s been chatting away about the dig.

“I’m Edward,” he says, holding out his hand.

She shakes it firmly.

“I’m Merle,” she says.