Elly Griffiths - The Janus Stone

Soon I will be alone in the house (well, apart from the women and children who do not count) and then maybe I will have the chance to do what must be done. In the meantime I must keep my strength up, eat healthily, more meat and less potato. Caesar himself would not have been able to function on the diet I eat. Must speak to Cook about this.

By the time Ruth gets in her car, her back feels like it is splitting in two. She wedges her jumper at the base of her spine and thinks that it is only a matter of time before she has a little corduroy lumbar cushion and thus becomes officially middle-aged.

She drives to the university to drop off the animal bones. As she gets the box out of the car she wonders whether lugging bones about is ideal behaviour for a pregnant woman. Funny but they don’t mention that in the books. Ruth estimates that she is now thirteen weeks pregnant. She is having a scan next week which should, apparently, give a more accurate date. Maybe then, at last, the whole thing will start to seem real.

She is so deep in thought that she doesn’t notice the white-coated figure coming in the other direction.

‘Sorry!’

Thank goodness, she doesn’t drop the box but the effort causes her to fall to her knees. The white-coated man helps her up.

‘Ruth! Are you OK?’

It is Cathbad.

When he is in his full Druid outfit, complete with flowing purple cloak, Cathbad can look impressive, even magnificent. Now, with his greying hair drawn back in a ponytail, white coat, jeans and trainers, he looks like any other ageing hippy who has finally found a nine-to-five job. Ruth is pleased to see him though. Despite everything, she is fond of Cathbad.

‘I’m all right.’ She gets to her feet rather slowly, annoyed to find herself slightly out of breath.

‘Are you taking those to the lab? I’ll help you.’

Ruth hands over the box though still keeps hold of her precious rucksack.‘Did you get my email?’ asks Cathbad as they walk along the deserted corridor. It is nearly six o’clock and most of the students, and a lot of the lecturers, have gone home.

‘About Imbolc? Yes.’

‘Are you going to come?’

‘Yes. Is it OK if I bring a friend?’

‘Of course. The beach belongs to everyone.’

He smiles modestly but Ruth knows that Cathbad regards this particular stretch of beach, where the henge was discovered, as very much his personal property.

‘He’s an archaeologist. I think you’ll like him.’

‘Is he the chap from Sussex? I’ve heard good things about him.’

Impressed by Cathbad’s spy system (or sixth sense), Ruth asks, ‘What have you heard?’

‘Oh, that he’s got an open mind. That he’s respecting the spirits. That sort of thing.’

Ruth wonders which spirits Cathbad means. Earth spirits, nature spirits, household spirits – there’s a wealth of choice for the truly open-minded. She decides not to enquire further. They have reached the lab and Ruth locks the animal bones in the safe. Tomorrow she will clean them and examine them further.

Cathbad is waiting for her outside. ‘You look tired,’ he says as they walk back towards the car park.

‘I’ve had a long day. Been working on site.’

‘Even so,’ Cathbad reaches out to take her rucksack, ‘you ought to be careful, in your condition.’

Ruth stops dead. The rucksack, which she had not quite relinquished, falls to the floor.

‘ What did you say?’

Cathbad looks back at her innocently. ‘Just that you should be careful. Especially in the early months.’

Ruth opens her mouth and then shuts it again. ‘How did you know?’

‘It’s fairly obvious,’ says Cathbad, ‘to the trained eye.’

‘Since when have you had a trained eye?’

‘Well, I’m a scientist,’ says Cathbad, sounding offended, ‘and an observer.’

‘And you guessed just from observing me for a few minutes?’

‘Well, I saw you the other day on campus and I thought… maybe. When I saw you today, I was sure.’

Ruth does not like the implications of this. If Cathbad has noticed, who else has realised? Phil? Her colleagues? Nelson?

‘How far on are you?’ Cathbad asks chattily, as they push through the swing doors.

‘Thirteen weeks.’

‘Lovely.’ Cathbad is obviously doing the sums. ‘A Scorpio baby.’

‘If you say so.’ Ruth is never sure which star sign is which. She is Cancer, home-loving and caring according to the books, which proves that it’s all crap. They have reached Ruth’s car and Cathbad hands over the rucksack.

‘Thanks.’ Ruth slings it into the back seat. ‘See you on Friday.’

‘Yes,’ says Cathbad. ‘Tell me, Ruth, does Nelson know?’

‘Does Nelson know what?’

‘About the baby.’

Ruth looks hard at Cathbad who stares guilelessly back. There is no one on earth who knows about her night with Nelson. Cathbad must surely be fishing in the dark.

‘No. Why should he?’

‘No reason.’ Cathbad raises his hand in a cheery gesture of farewell. ‘Take care of yourself, Ruth. See you on Friday.’

After her brush with Cathbad’s sixth sense, Ruth is in the mood for solitude as she negotiates the narrow road across the marshes. But even from a distance she can see that she has company. A low-slung sports car is parked by her gate and a flash of brilliant red hair is visible in the driving seat.

Shona. Once Shona was Ruth’s closest friend in Norfolk, perhaps her closest ever friend. But then the Saltmarsh case came up and, along with everything else in Ruth’s life, her friendship with Shona was thrown into disarray. Ruth discovered things about Shona’s past that made her wonder if she had ever really known her friend at all. Worse, she felt betrayed. But somehow they have survived. Shared grief over Erik, a shared sense of regret and a desire to salvage something positive from that terrible time, have drawn them together again. Perhaps they are not quite as open with each other as they once were. Ruth can’t forget that Shona lied to her, by omission at least, for almost ten years. Shona feels that Ruth judged her too harshly for those lies. But they need each other. Neither has another close confidante and friends are precious. Ruth’s slight sense of irritation at the disruption of her solitude has almost dissipated by the time that she has parked her car behind Shona’s.

‘Where have you been?’ Shona hugs her. She is wearing a witchy green dress that billows in the wind from the sea. Her hair flies out in fiery points. Shona’s beauty sometimes makes Ruth feel almost angry; at other times it makes it possible to forgive her anything.

‘At the university.’

‘You work too hard.’

Shona is also a lecturer at the university, in the English department. Over the past ten years she has embarked on a series of disastrous affairs with married colleagues and is currently involved with Ruth’s boss, Phil. Ruth hopes that she is not in for an in-depth analysis of Phil’s prowess as a lover and the likelihood of his leaving his wife. The thought of making love to Phil would make her feel sick even if she wasn’t pregnant and in her opinion his marriage to Sue, a dull aromatherapist, will endure for ever.

Ruth opens the door and fends off an ecstatic Flint. Shona bends down to stroke the cat. She has often looked after him when Ruth is away.

‘Hallo, darling, come to Auntie Shona. Ruth, I’m going to give up men and buy a cat.’

Ruth has heard this many times before. ‘Cats aren’t so good at mending the Christmas lights. Or checking the oil in cars.’

‘No, but they’re better listeners.’ Shona cuddles Flint who stares hopefully at the floor.

‘True. And they don’t leave the loo seat up.’