What Happens In Cornwall... Page 8

  ‘Dreamy? Come on Becs, don’t you think he’s a bit flash?’ The expression on Becky’s face indicated quite clearly how she felt.

  ‘I think he’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure he would agree with you.’ Sam glanced around before risking an observation. ‘Mind you, he’s got to be worth a bob or two to afford a place like this. History professors don’t normally live in mansions. Shame he’s so creepy.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘Anyway, you do realise that poor old Ryan has got the hots for you, don’t you?’

  Becky blinked. ‘Don’t be so silly.’

  Sam put on her big sister voice. ‘You mark my words, young lady. Anyway, it would be polite if you were to spare Ryan a bit of attention, rather than spending all your time drooling over our host.’

  ‘I wasn’t drooling.’ Becky sounded piqued.

  ‘Well, what’s that running down the front of your top, then?’

  Becky even glanced down. Sam grinned and offered her a consolation prize. ‘Besides, you have yet to meet the new medieval history man from Cambridge. See him over there beside your dreamy friend? Remember him from the other day? I think he’s far more attractive than Miles Vernon and perfect for you. If you really don’t want to consider Ryan, why not get your hooks into the new boy?’

  Becky scrutinised the tall man. ‘Um, well I suppose I could do worse.’

  ‘That’s the spirit, Becs. Just one thing, though. Try not to annoy him or he might thump you.’ She went on to relate what Virginia had told her.

  After another couple of glasses of champagne, Sam found herself enjoying the party more than she had expected. Around eleven, Becky disappeared into the house with Miles Vernon and Sam spent time consoling Ryan. He had evidently consumed a considerable amount of alcohol by this time and soon started to unburden himself.

  ‘What’s wrong with me, Sam? Becky just ignores me. If only she knew how I felt… She’s just gorgeous, Sam. Her hair, her eyes, everything. I think about her all the time, you know.’

  ‘Oh, Ryan, she likes you a lot too, you know.’ Sam glanced down and was pleased to see that her nose had not grown longer. She risked another little fib. ‘She really does. You just need to give her time.’

  ‘It’s been years, Sam. She just doesn’t seem to notice me.’

  ‘She will, Ryan, just you wait. Here, I tell you what, how about a dance? That’ll cheer us both up.’ The string quartet had by now been replaced by a colourful band playing Latino music and a few couples were dancing on the patio. She led Ryan over to the music and held out her arms. ‘Come on, Ryan, show me a few moves.’

  He looked far from enthusiastic, but accepted the invitation. They danced for ten minutes or so before he declared himself incapable of going on without more alcohol. She waited for him at the side of the terrace while he went off to find them some more wine. Sam was studying a rather fine looking rose bush when a particularly enthusiastic dancer bumped into her from behind, pushing her halfway into the bush, where a thorn jabbed into her arm. She squealed and turned round in annoyance, her blouse still caught. The couple who had pushed her waved apologetically and moved away. Then, to her surprise, as she was still wriggling gingerly out, James Courtney, the man from Cambridge, came walking by.

  Sam felt the blood rush to her face. Why did he, of all people, have to see her struggling out of a rose bush in disarray?

  ‘Are you all right?’

  The expression on his face was far from the rude one she would have expected, especially after Virginia’s story. In fact, he looked genuinely concerned. Sam finally managed to extricate herself from the bush. The thorn had broken off and was still sticking in her arm, a drop of blood oozing from the wound. More in sorrow than in anger she held it out to him. ‘Look what they did.’

  To her surprise, he reached out and caught hold of her arm, pulling her gently closer to him, so close she could feel the warmth of his body. His fingers closed around the thorn and, with a remarkably delicate movement, he plucked it out. He stood silent for a few moments before removing his fingers from her arm. Then he looked up at her. ‘I hope that didn’t hurt.’

  And he turned and left without another word.

  Chapter 13

  Sam’s phone rang just after lunch on Monday, as she was sat over a mug of tea, writing a shopping list for later that afternoon. Becky hadn’t come into the lab that morning and Sam rather wondered if the call might be from her. Whether Becky’s absence the morning after Miles Vernon’s party was due to ill health, alcoholic excess or an overenthusiastic assault upon the host would no doubt be revealed in the fullness of time. Sam picked the phone up, checked the caller ID and got a surprise. Her pulse quickened as she saw that it wasn’t Becky, but Ann from the island.

  ‘Hi, Ann, what’s new?’

  ‘Hi, Sam. Something rather interesting, to be honest.’ Sam dropped her pen and sat back, all ears. There was a pause before Ann launched into her story. ‘Well, you see, it’s like this. An hour or so ago, I was out walking with Henry the dog. Once we reached the far side of the island Henry disappeared into an ancient stone building. It’s a ruin now, but you can still see the walls and some steps in the floor. Anyway, after a bit, when he didn’t reappear, I followed him in. There were piles of rubble inside and a load of brambles and nettles. Henry had wormed his way into the far corner and he was scrabbling at the earth floor alongside the stone wall, doing his best to excavate a hole. It looked like he was trying to uproot a sapling growing at the base of the wall.’

  Samantha wondered where she was going with this story, but she refrained from prompting her.

  ‘I called to him to leave it, but just at that moment, he ripped the tree out of the ground, pulling with it a load of old mortar and earth. He then started scrabbling at the base of the wall itself. I saw him grab something in his teeth and pull. Labradors are big dogs, and Henry’s got a lot of strength. After a short struggle, he came out with it.’

  ‘With what? What did he find?’ Sam was getting excited now.

  ‘A bone. I called him over and he rather proudly presented me with a large, very ancient-looking brown bone. Anyway, Sam, twenty-five years ago I did Biology A-level and I’m pretty sure this is a tibia, a thigh bone, and I mean a human thigh bone. The image of the skeleton in the biology lab came back to me quite clearly.’

  ‘Ooh, exciting!’ Sam was hooked. ‘So what did you do with it?’

  ‘I took it back into the abbey and showed it to Mr Griffiths. I asked him what he thought and he agreed it looked like a human tibia. Then he told me he thought that if it really is human, we have a legal responsibility to report it to the police. Is that so?’

  Sam nodded to herself. However old the bone, if it was human, the police had to be informed. ‘That’s right. We have to do the same.’

  Ann carried on. ‘The thing is, before getting the police involved, I was wondering if you might be able to spare the time to pop down and take a look. I mean, we might both be wrong and it might just be part of a cow or a sheep or something.’

  Sam thought quickly. She had nothing particularly pressing to do that Tuesday. ‘Of course I can. Mind you, I’m no pathologist.’ The idea of going back over to the island and maybe finding out more about the mysterious Ann was very appealing, so Sam played down her lack of medical knowledge. ‘I’ve seen a few skeletons of course, and I could bring a few books with me just to be sure.’ She glanced at her watch. It was two-fifteen. ‘I’ll just have to check the buses.’

  Ann’s voice cut in. ‘There’s no need for that. I’ll get a car to pick you up. Would three-thirty at the Archaeology department of the university be all right? It shouldn’t take long, and the car can take you home whenever you want.’

  ‘That would be fine. I look forward to seeing you again, Ann.’ As she put the phone down, Sam found herself wondering if the woman was really called Ann, or whether this, like the dark glasses, was just part of her camouflage. At least this afternoon promised to bring her a bit
closer to discovering the true identity of the lady on the island.

  The trip across to the island took a lot less time than it had the day of her rescue. This time, the sea was calm and the views back towards the mainland in the clear afternoon sunshine were stunning. The coast, with its rocky outcrops, sandy coves and imposing cliffs was a delight. Above them, a host of seabirds wheeled and cackled and, as they approached the island, the noise steadily increased. She caught the boatman’s eye. ‘What a racket!’

  ‘That’s our fault. They think we’re a fishing boat. Look how they’re checking our wake in case we start throwing fish over the side.’ Sure enough, gulls were landing in the white water behind them, eyes peeled for a free meal.

  Sam watched the island draw nearer, the abbey stretching upwards, seemingly part of the cliff itself. For somebody with an interest in history, it was an awesome sight. Sam couldn’t help but be impressed. ‘Wow. That’s quite something.’

  The boatman, who had introduced himself as Ronnie, smiled at her. ‘Terrific, isn’t it? Of course, it was foggy last time you came to visit us.’ His smile broadened. ‘To be honest, the state you were in, you probably wouldn’t have appreciated it anyway, but the view’s proper lovely. I’ve lived here all my life and it still gets me every time I look at it.’

  Sam chatted to him as they approached the daunting cliffs and appreciated, yet again, just how incredibly lucky she had been not only to find the island, but to find just about the only spot where it was possible to land. Ronnie shared her feeling.

  ‘If you hadn’t found your way to the main jetty, there’s only a little cove across on the seaward side of the island where you could have landed, but if you don’t know it’s there, you’ll miss it. There’s a huge sea stack hiding the entrance. But, apart from that place and this bay, that’s it. And I’m afraid that if you had missed us, the current would’ve taken you a long way out to sea.’ His expression became more serious. ‘I’m afraid things wouldn’t have been too good for you if that had happened. Anyway,’ he adopted a more cheerful tone. ‘The gods of the sea were smiling on you that day, and you ended up safe and sound. But, you can see why they decided to use the island as a fortress.’

  Samantha caught Ronnie’s eye. ‘But it’s an abbey, isn’t it; a Cistercian abbey?’

  ‘It was, but before it was an abbey, the island was a fortress. There are ruins all over the cliff tops. Maybe you’ll get the chance to take a look round’

  ‘I’d really love that.’ Since receiving the phone call, Sam had been wondering if the discovery of the bone might result in the mysterious Ann taking her up on her offer of an archaeological survey. She had no doubt at all that Virginia and the whole of the Archaeology department would jump at the opportunity if it presented itself.

  When they reached the jetty, Sam could see Mr Griffiths waiting for her. She thanked Ronnie and ran up the stone steps, reflecting that it had taken her an inordinate amount of time and effort to do this the last time she was there. She shook Mr Griffiths by the hand and he gave her a smile of greeting.

  ‘Welcome back to the island, Miss Squires. I’m delighted to see you looking fit and well again.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks, Mr Griffiths.’ It was on the tip of her tongue to ask him to call her Samantha, but somehow his formal manner stopped her. Together they took the lift up into the massive entrance hall once more. As they stepped out onto the flagstones, she paused and took a better look round. Seeing her interest, Mr Griffiths extended his arms.

  ‘This room is exactly fifty feet by fifty feet.’ He allowed himself a hint of a smile. ‘That’s about fifteen metres in new money. And the ceiling’s higher still. Although the abbey was built in the fourteenth century, the corners are as perfect right angles as modern day technology could measure or produce.’

  ‘Seven hundred years old! It’s amazing it’s still standing.’ Sam’s eyes flicked across to the exquisite carving on the stone portal around a pair of massive doors set into one wall. She caught Mr Griffiths’ eye. ‘What’s in there, if you don’t mind me asking?’

  ‘That’s the entrance to the old abbey church. It wasn’t part of the refurbishment, so it’s pretty much in the same state now as it would have been five hundred years ago. It was desecrated at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries and it’s been left to rot for centuries.’

  A thought crossed Sam’s mind. Professor James Courtney from the University of Cambridge would surely be interested in seeing the church. For a moment, she found herself thinking how nice it would be to show him round this amazing place. Ever since Miles Vernon’s party the other night, she had found herself thinking of the Cambridge man an awful lot. His caring, concerned demeanour had been so different from what she had been led to expect that she just couldn’t make him out. And the way he had removed the thorn had been very unexpected and, she had finally been honest enough to admit to herself, amazingly stimulating. The touch of his fingers on her arm had left an indelible memory. The sound of the steward’s voice interrupted her rather pleasant daydream.

  ‘The walls are over a metre thick in places.’ Clearly, Mr Griffiths knew his stuff. ‘It would take a small nuclear device to flatten this place.’

  ‘Wow.’ Sam was astounded by the sheer scale of the place. Mr Griffiths looked unsurprised. No doubt most visitors had the same reaction.

  ‘Now, if you’d like to follow me, I’ll take you up to the living room.’

  Upstairs, Sam was greeted by the Labrador and his mistress. Mr Griffiths ushered Sam into the wonderful living room and pointed in the direction of the fireplace where the woman was sitting. Sam set off across the room towards her, but stopped partway to kneel down and pet the dog who came running towards her. As she scratched him, he flopped onto his back and started a rhythmic treading action with his back leg. She heard footsteps approaching and stood up, a smile on her face. This swiftly changed to a look of awe when she realised she was in the presence of Hollywood royalty.

  ‘Ann Cartwright…’ She didn’t know what else to say.

  ‘Hi, Samantha.’ Ann reached out and took both of her hands in hers. ‘I’m sorry about all the cloak and dagger stuff the last time we met, but I’m a bit obsessive about my privacy. The enormous glasses and that bloody wig are always on hand if strangers appear.’ Sam shook her head to clear it. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she had vaguely wondered if the person behind the shades might have been Ann Cartwright, but seeing her here in the flesh was a shock nevertheless.

  ‘Of course, I quite understand. I’m just so very sorry that I disturbed your privacy the way I did.’

  Ann smiled at her. ‘Not at all. It was good to meet you and to be able to help. And I’m so pleased you look absolutely fine now.’ She led Sam across to one of the sofas. ‘Do sit down. Now, would you like to take a look at the famous bone?’ As she reached for a large bag, the Labrador trotted over and positioned himself on the floor between the two of them. Sam reached down and scratched his ears. ‘He’s a handsome chap. He’s called Henry, right?’ The dog looked up at the sound of his name.

  ‘That’s right. He travelled over from California in the hold of a British Airways jet last week. Somehow, I get the feeling he’s destined to become a very well-travelled dog. I keep meaning to check if there’s a frequent flier programme for pets.’ She opened the bag and pulled out the bone. ‘Here, with Henry’s compliments.’ She tapped the dog on his nose with a finger. ‘No, Henry. Not for you.’ His expression spoke volumes. He had found it after all.

  Samantha took the old bone from Ann’s hands, still coming to terms with the fact that she was sitting beside one of the most famous people in the whole world. Ann Cartwright’s face was plastered all over the place, even on the sides of the buses in sleepy old Devon. Sam reflected that only the other day, she and Becky had been discussing going to see her latest film. And now here she was, talking to her! It was surreal. She did her best to return to the matter in hand. There was no doubt about what it was.
>
  ‘You’re dead right about it being a human thigh bone. And I don’t think there’s any question that it’s very, very old. Even so, you will need to inform the police.’ Then she had an idea. ‘I’ve just had a thought, Ann. Would you like me to handle this? We could do it through the university. That way, you could stay out of sight and nobody would need to know you’re here.’

  Ann gave her a big smile. ‘That would be great, Samantha. Why don’t you take the bone with you when you go back tonight, if you’re sure it’s no problem?’

  ‘I’d be delighted to help. It’s the very least I can do.’ She handed the bone back to Ann. ‘You’d better put it out of the way of Henry for now. It would be a shame if he decided to eat it. So, whereabouts did you find it? Or rather, whereabouts did Henry find it?’

  Ann packed the bone away before standing up. ‘I’ll show you, if you like. And thanks awfully for looking after this for me. I really appreciate it.’

  After stowing the bone on a high shelf, Ann and the dog led Sam down the room to massive windows at the far end. As they approached, Ann pressed a remote control and the whole glass wall slid open. The sound of the waves reached into the room. Sam followed her out onto the stone-flagged terrace, from where there was an exceptional view back towards the mainland. She saw that they were now right up at the highest part of the island. In spite of the distance they had climbed from sea level, she now found herself barely fifteen or twenty feet above ground level. Directly below were the old cloisters, surrounded by palm trees, and beyond them an area the size of several football pitches of open grassland. To one side was a circular patch, ringed with lights, with a large H marked on it for helicopter access. On the other, there was a tennis court.

  ‘The living accommodation is in the old cloisters. The builders have done a magnificent job.’ Ann pointed across to the mainland. ‘Over there is Tregossick, of course, and beyond that, the promontory you can see is Shag Point.’ Samantha resisted the urge to giggle. ‘And back behind us, although you can’t see it as it’s about a hundred miles away, is the coast of France.’