Lessons in Solving the Wrong Problem - Charlie Cochrane Page 0,4
first thing that struck Orlando as they entered the marquee was that it presented a spacious and potential vital indoor area, should there be a downpour. The second was that they did well for themselves at these archaeological digs, given the size and quality of the food laid out on a long trestle table. The third was that the portable heaters were churning out a pleasing quantity of heat: given how cold he’d grown, despite the relatively clement weather for the time of year, every ounce of comfort was appreciated. While he was too polite to mention the fact, Jonty showed no such qualms.
“That’s a magnificent spread, Applecross. I’m clearly specialising in the wrong subject if this is the daily fare.”
“Don’t be deceived. This is not typical and it’s none of my doing.” Applecross chuckled. “Where we’re digging is part of Lord Henry Byrd’s estate and he’s been tickled to death with us locating this site. So much so, that he’s providing all the catering.”
“Tell Dr Coppersmith how you discovered this place,” Jonty said, as they filled their plates with sandwiches, sausage rolls and other delights. “He’ll be amazed.”
“You can thank our mutual friend Dr Panesar.” Applecross produced a smile typical of those who knew and liked the famously eccentric fellow of St Bride’s. Panesar was a noted polymath, equally capable of solving the most abstruse problem in several disciplines or nearly blowing half of Cambridge to kingdom come. “He was up in his aeroplane late last summer, when we’d had a run of dry weather.”
“His aeroplane?” Orlando almost dropped a tomato he’d picked up.
“Yes. An FE2, apparently. I believe he was involved in its development and performs test flights.” Applecross spoke as calmly as if he’d simply announced that Panesar was trying out a new form of bicycle. “He was flying over here and noticed some strange marks among the crops, made a mental note of the site, then told me about it. He wasn’t sure if it signified anything.”
“At last we find something he doesn’t know about,” Jonty said gleefully, as they took their plates to a convenient table.
“He knows more now.” Applecross settled himself in his seat, at a table for four, although nobody came to take the fourth place. “We returned together to do some reconnaissance, before the weather could change and the marks be lost. I was able to take photographs of the site, along with some others for triangulation points. Things look very different down here than they do in the skies.”
“I can imagine.” Jonty’s voice sounded a touch too wistful for Orlando’s comfort. The metal monster was bad enough: how dreadful it would be for Jonty to acquire a passion for flying as well as motoring.
“What did you see?” Orlando asked hurriedly.
“I discerned the outline of a two-winged villa with another set of rooms close by. The site you’ve been looking at. But there’s more. Marks of older Iron Age field boundaries in several of the local fields and what might just be the post holes of a Saxon hall in this one. It has to be one of the most notable sites to have emerged in the area—indeed in the whole of Britain—for years. Not just enough for one season of digging, but many. By rights we should wait for the summer and weather more conducive to being out in the open, but I felt we had to begin exposing the site as soon as was practicable.” Applecross’s eyes shone with delighted anticipation.
Orlando wondered if he gave such an impression of restrained joy when he discussed a particularly satisfying mathematical problem. Or if, indeed, his eyes danced with such delight when enjoying the company of Jonty in a double bed. Best to get his thoughts back to the cerebral rather than the physical, before he blushed or otherwise embarrassed himself. “I know very little about the history of our country, to my shame. Are such sites common?”
“In some places, yes. Go to the Cotswolds and you can barely turn a corner for falling over a villa.”
“There’s one near the old Manor,” Jonty chipped in. “Not as splendid as Bignor, which is probably the jewel in the local crown, but a nicely turned out property. Couple of wings, one probably a later addition. They didn’t run to a bath house, though. Not enough denarii in the local bank, I guess.”
“I didn’t know there was a villa there.” Orlando hoped he looked and sounded sufficiently disenfranchised.
Jonty gave him a grin. “Don’t look so astonished,