Дэвид Уоллес - Island of Fog and Death

Amanda was busy tickling the dog’s ears and rubbing his chest. “Do you live here, Gus, or just visiting?”

“Visiting,” he answered. “And you?”

“Oh, it’s work I’m afraid. I’m meeting some archaeologists who crossed over yesterday.”

“How interesting,” said Gus. “And what do you do?”

“I’m a documentary film-maker,” said Amanda. My company is financing them. I specialise is historical documentaries, and I’m hoping to get a nice feature out of this, solving a bit of a mystery dating back to Roman days.”

“A mystery? Oh, Amanda, I love a good mystery! What is it, an unsolved crime of some kind?”

Amanda laughed. “No, not that kind of mystery, I’m afraid. My colleagues came across some tantalising clues about a Roman military operation in this area, that seems to have been hushed up by the Romans. We’ve been surveying and digging up and down the Arwen valley, and it turns out that all the clues point here. Whatever the Romans were up to, it appears their operation reached its conclusion here, and we expect to find something buried under the island that will solve the mystery of why they tried to conceal it.”

Peri listened to the conversation with growing unease. “Did you say your colleagues have been digging here, on the island? When did this start?”

“Yes,” replied Amanda. “Well, they won’t be digging yet, they only just arrived. But they’re investigating the site of an old chapel, then they’ll need to get the landowner’s consent, and then they’ll get down to digging.”

Steve moved closer. “Where is this chapel?” he asked.

“Roughly in the middle, actually a bit north of centre. Do you know the island, Mr…?”

“Steve. Call me Steve. This is Peri, and that’s Troy. This is my first visit.” He gestured with one hand towards the island. “And I must say, the weather looks like it’s deteriorating fast. You might be best going back to Arwensmouth until it clears a bit. You too, Gus. What do you think?”

Sure enough, the island shore looked hazy, the land beyond seemed misty, and further up the slope a fog was gathering.

Amanda replied first. “Good heavens no. A bit of damp never hurt anyone! It’s not far to my team’s camp site, and if I have to shelter in their van, well, it’s a chance to look over their latest footage while we wait out the weather.”

Gus grinned, and asked, “What about you, Steve? Are you planning to turn back?”

Steve answered with a non-committal shrug. There was an awkward silence. Then Peri spoke up. “Well, I don’t want to turn back, but on the other hand, if the visibility gets worse, someone could easily trip and injure themselves out here. I think it would be prudent not to wander the island alone. We’ll be going in the same direction as you, and I’d be quite happy for us all to stick together for the time being.”

Amanda smiled. “Well, I’d be happy with a bit of company as far as the dig site. What about you, Gus?”

Gus simply smiled broadly, displaying perfect white teeth surrounded by his snow-white beard. He pulled his shoulder length white hair back into a pony tail and secured it with an elastic band.

“Okay, nearly there, folks,” called Troy from the front of the boat.

The ferry bumped against the pier and the boatman tossed chains one by one over bollards to secure it. He let down the boarding ramp so that his passengers could disembark onto the island.

“It looks like we have three choices,” said Peri. “Left, right and straight ahead. The road straight ahead should take us closest to your dig site, Amanda, and is the quickest route to the north cliffs. Which way were you going, Gus?”

The bearded man smiled broadly, and said, “I’m happy to go straight ahead, Peri.”

“Me too,” said Amanda. “My party should be no more than ten minutes up the road.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed. “If we’re going to take a good look at the top of cliffs where Chen died, that’s the best course.”

“Chen?” asked Amanda. “Who’s that?”

“A colleague of mine,” said Peri. “It seems he fell from the cliffs.”

“Oh – are you two with the police, then?” Amanda looked at Steve and Troy as she spoke.

“So, straight ahead it is,” said Troy.

Gus laughed and shook his head. Amanda frowned at the lack of an answer, but let it go.

“Hey, Amanda,” said Peri.

“Yes, er, you said your name was Peri? Is that right?” she answered.

“Right. I was wondering about your archaeologists.”

“Historians, actually.”

“Okay, historians. Who are they? What are they like?”

“Wonderful,” laughed Amanda. “But then, I must say that, I’m a historian myself by training. That’s why I produce historical documentaries. I know how to get on with other historians.”

“But seriously, Amanda, what are they like?”

“They’re like – well – historians. Sorry, I’m struggling a bit – what do you want to know?”

“Well, who’s running the expedition? Let’s start there.”

“All right. Professor Maxwell Coupar is fronting things.”

“I know that name,” said Peri. “The History Man, right?”

“Right. That was my first production. I started as an assistant, but by the third series I was in charge. Maxwell was the face of the series all the way through.”

Peri was recalling him to mind. Floppy long hair, boyish grin, enthusiastic twinkling blue eyes. “I quite fancied him.”

“Did you?” Amanda laughed, and Peri blushed as she realised she had spoken aloud. “You weren’t alone. His fan mail included quite a few items of – let’s call it, ‘intimate apparel.’ Some of it – er – ever so slightly soiled.”

“Wasn’t he fired for shagging the wrong people?”

Amanda looked annoyed, and defensive. “He was naive. He resigned from the University, he didn’t get fired, because he did nothing improper.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. His Achilles heel is that he can’t say no to a woman, and he gets taken advantage of. His TV appearances meant groupies, and groupies who feel jilted can be trouble. Especially when the aforementioned groupies included wives of colleagues. Silly man, I doubt if he’ll ever change.”

“Ah,” said Peri, thoughtfully watching complex emotions crossing Amanda’s face. “You have a bit of history together…”

“We were undergraduates together at York.”

“…and you’ve been trying to save him ever since.”

Amanda snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous! He’s a grown man, he doesn’t need saving. Anyway, it’s none of your business, is it!”

“No, it isn’t, and I didn’t intend to case offence, sorry.” Peri decided to leave that for now. “And how big is the expedition?”

It took a couple of minutes for Amanda to respond. Peri let her calm down in silence.

“Four,” Amanda said at last. “Hardly an expedition to rival Howard Carter. Two grad students and a so-called assistant.”

“An assistant who’s female and taking advantage of the Professor?” hazarded Peri.

“Oh shut up!” Amanda was back to being annoyed. Then she said, “Sorry. I asked for that by calling her a ‘so-called’ assistant, I suppose.”

Another minute passed in silence. “She’s supposedly a research assistant – sort of a cross between a librarian and a gofer. But she’s never done it before and she’s crap at it. She’s contributing her time for nothing, and as I said, Maxwell can’t say no to a woman.”

“Pretty?” asked Peri.

“Tori looks like a whore,” said Amanda, bitterly. “Or a porn star. Fake tits, fake tan, pouty lips.”