Chapter Eight
Nate
Nate forced one foot in front of the other up the little hill on the outskirts of Lower Houghton. He really wasn’t in the mood for running, but he could not stand to be in the bunkhouse. Anwar was not a delight to be around, and he was monopolising both the bathroom and the tiny sofa in the living area with his hangover.
Besides, running would burn off some of his frustration and disappointment.
Nate slowed to a walk on the second buzz of his smartwatch and wiped the sweat off his face with the bottom of his t-shirt. He glanced around quickly to check no one was nearby and pulled his running top off. God, the slight breeze on his bare skin was so good. His watch buzzed again and he yanked his phone out of his arm pouch.
‘Paul, mate, how are you? How’s France?’ Nate asked, grinning down the phone at his old friend.
‘Nathanial, my man! Good to hear your voice,’ Paul said exuberantly.
It had been months since they’d talked. Text and email just wasn’t the same.
‘France is amazing, it’s perfect. It’s hot and sunny, and there are finds galore. I’ll be on this site at least another year.’
‘That’s fantastic, Paul, really good.’ Nate continued a slow walk up the hill. ‘Funding extended?’
‘Yep, funding extended,’ Paul hesitated. ‘Actually, that’s the reason I’ve called.’
Hmm.
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah, I’m looking for a university partnership and of course you, Dr Daley, are my first and best choice,’ Paul said.
Nate stood still, blinking in surprise. ‘You want me in France? Looking for Cathar treasure?’
‘Yeah.’
Nate was silent for a moment. Everyone knew that there wasn’t really any lost Cathar treasure buried amongst the mountains of the Languedoc in the south of France. But it was a magical place, romantic with a hint of supernatural religious mythology. And it was the south of France.
‘Listen, don’t say anything now. I’m going to send you the documentation, the site location, everything we’ve found so far. You know the drill,’ Paul said. ‘You must get loads of promotional packages begging you to come on site.’
It was true, he’d received a multitude of offers in the first few years after the Pictish Stylus paper, but recently they’d waned.
Paul carried on, ‘I’m coming back for Jess and Owen’s summer barbecue. You’ll be there, right? We can talk more then?’
‘Yeah, I’m going.’ There was no harm in having a chat. ‘Okay, yeah, let’s have a conversation.’
There was no harm in keeping all options open.
‘Heard the news?’ Paul said cagily. Nate waited for him to continue. ‘Have you read the recent email Jess sent round? You know how she likes to be super organised?’
‘No, it’s on my list of things to read.’ Once he’d fished it out of his ‘Social’ folder in his gmail account.
Paul paused dramatically.
‘Lucia’s coming.’
‘Oh right, I didn’t know she was even in Britain,’ Nate said.
Why Paul, and everyone else for that matter, felt they had to pussy foot around him when Lucia’s name came up he would never know. They’d broken up years ago, there had been other women for him and he wasn’t as naive to think that there hadn’t been other men and women for her. It’s not like he was pining after her, waiting for her to drop everything and realise that she wanted a settled life with Nate.
No, he had gotten over her a long, long time ago.
‘Yeah, she’s coming back from Egypt for a whirlwind tour, which includes Jess and Owen’s barbecue,’ Paul said. Nate rolled his eyes.
‘Good, well, it will be nice to see her.’
It was the truth, it would be nice to see how her life was going, even if she was going to behave like she was gracing them with her presence.
‘Oh, and…’ Paul hesitated.
‘Yeah?’ Nate prompted.
‘I’m bringing Angeline.’ Nate could hear the smile on Paul’s face. ‘She’s French.’
Nate grinned. ‘Angeline, eh? How long have you been seeing her then? Must be serious to bring her all this way.’
‘A few months. Nate, man, she’s amazing,’ Paul gushed. ‘I can’t wait for you to meet her, she’s perfect. You’ll love her.’
‘I’m sure I will. You deserve it, Paul. I’m chuffed for you.’
It had been way too long since Paul had a girlfriend. He was such a nice guy, sweet, kind and absolutely adoring of any girl he was seeing. Which often meant that he got his soft little heart squashed and shredded. Hopefully, this Angeline would be better.
‘Yeah, me too.’
Nate caught a stream of French from a female voice at the other end of the line.
‘Look mate, I’ve got to go. Look out for that email, yeah?’
‘Will do. See you, Paul,’ Nate said, hanging up the phone.
Nate stuffed his phone back into his arm pouch and started up a slow run again, not bothering to put his top back on.
He had a vague idea of what Paul was working on from the email updates he’d glanced through. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested in his friends’ lives.
He really was.
If Nate really analysed why he didn’t want to pore over Jess’s emails with photos of smiling family games, their boy, Benji, on horseback, paddling in the sea on holiday, then he wouldn’t like himself very much.
It was hard not to give in to the jealousy that swelled in his stomach.
Nate adored Benji and every time he called him Uncle Nate, his tough little heart melted.
He adored seeing his friends as well, but he didn’t need his inability to settle down and start a family rubbed in his face with every single email.
He knew that wasn’t their intention, of course. But still.
He pushed on, pumping his legs harder as the hill took a steeper curve upwards. The burn in his thighs was a welcome punishment for being a jealous fuck.
Nate crested the top of the slope and looked over Lower Houghton.
It was pretty, with its small winding streets, lazy rambling roses and beautiful old buildings.
Yeah, it was a bit ramshackle and could use some love, but what place wasn’t in need of some attention? That’s what Laurel was trying to do, wasn’t it? To not exactly gentrify the place, but to just make it nicer.
Keep it the same, just a bit better.
‘Oh, hey Nate.’
He whipped his head around at the female voice. People didn’t know him here. Not people who would be on the top of Lower Houghton hill, anyway.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Hey Rebecca, Laurel.’
They were sitting on the bench, Laurel’s arm around Rebecca’s shoulders. Rebecca’s face was puffy and red, like she’d been crying. Oh god. What had he walked into?
‘Hi,’ Laurel said.
Her sunglasses were propped on top of her head and she looked tired, but he didn’t miss her eyes as they flitted over his chest and down his stomach.
Nate grabbed his t-shirt from where he’d tucked it in his shorts, wiped his face, and pulled it over his head.
By the time he’d done that, Rebecca had disentangled herself from Laurel and had pasted a smile on her face.
‘Out for a run?’ Laurel asked, her face flushing ever so slightly. Did she remember flirting with him, sending those ridiculous messages last night? Or was there something else going on?
‘Yep.’ He grinned.
Rebecca looked at Laurel oddly. ‘I haven’t asked, how was last night?’
‘Yeah, it was really good,’ Nate said. ‘Oh, except for George Hibbert.’
‘George Hibbert? What did that little twat do?’ Rebecca sighed, looking at Laurel expectantly.
Laurel rolled her eyes.
‘Oh, he’s just a dick. You know what he’s like,’ she brushed it away, shooting him a pointed look. Alright, if she didn’t want to talk about it, he certainly wasn’t going to go into it.
He stretched out his calf.
‘Oh, and thanks Laurel,’ he said, with an impish grin.
She exchanged a confused look with Rebecca. ‘For what?’
He was amused. ‘Those pictures last night.’
Rebecca’s wide eyes flicked between Laurel and Nate and her jaw dropped just a little.
Laurel turned pale. ‘What pictures?’
Oh, so she didn’t remember? Nate feigned shock.
‘Those pictures you sent when you got home, Laurel.’ He winked.
Laurel was unnaturally still. She obviously did not remember. Nate smiled, enjoying her discomfort way too much.
‘Oh, yeah, okay,’ she said quietly.
Nate tapped on his smartwatch.
‘Anyway, I’ve got to get back. See you on Monday.’
He took off down the hill, smiling at her horrified face.
Laurel
‘You. Sent. Him. Pictures.’ Rebecca said, jabbing her in the shoulder with each word. ‘You never send me pictures,’ she grumbled.
‘I didn’t send him naked pictures.’
Did she?
Oh god, please no. Drunk Laurel could be kind of an exhibitionist.
‘But before that, I need to know what happened with George Hibbert. Now, please.’ Rebecca wasn’t asking. It was a demand wearing the skin coat of politeness. Laurel quickly told her about George Hibbert being drunk and gobby, Nate pushing and Jack punching him.
Rebecca grinned. ‘So, Nate came to your rescue, knight in shining armour style?’
‘I didn’t need a knight in shining armour,’ she lied. ‘George would have gone after a bit. Besides, Robin and the boys were there too.’
But it had been nice, being pressed against his side, the evident concern in his eyes and of course, the restrained shove he’d given George Hibbert. She’d been his first priority, not beating the shit out of George, like Robin.
‘Mmm hmm,’ Rebecca said knowingly. Laurel glared at her. ‘Right, pictures now please.’
Laurel pulled her phone out and scrolled to the brand new WhatsApp chat she had started last night with Nate Smug Bastard Daley. Rebecca pushed closer so she could live vicariously through Laurel’s embarrassment.
Picture 1: her key in the street-level front door.
Picture 2: halfway up the stairs to her first-floor flat.
Picture 3: her key in the front door to her flat. Nothing but originality there.
Picture 4: a pint of water on the kitchen sideboard.
Picture 5: a slightly blurry mirror selfie of her with her pyjamas on, makeup off, and a toothbrush sticking out of her mouth.
Picture 6: a selfie of her pretending to be asleep and trying not to smile.
Right. Good, Laurel. Urgh.
Picture from Nate: Anwar sat on the bathroom floor, hugging the toilet.
‘Really, Laurel? What are you, five?’ Rebecca said, cringing at her.
‘I was a bit drunk, alright? He asked me to let him know when I got home.’ She raised a shoulder despondently. ‘So, I did.’
‘Evidently.’ Rebecca laughed as Laurel scrolled through the pictures again.
How. Frigging. Embarrassing.
‘It’s awful, isn’t it?’ Laurel asked.
Rebecca considered. ‘He didn’t seem to think so. Seems like he thought it was funny?’
‘Hmm, maybe.’
‘It’s a good thing you weren’t wearing that Boux Avenue pyjama set that I got you for Christmas that year.’ Rebecca giggled.
Laurel shuddered.
‘Christ, yes. That does not leave much to the imagination.’
‘Neither did Nate today, running with no t-shirt on.’ Rebecca fanned her face. ‘Oof.’
There was no denying it. Nate Daley was hot.
Extremely. Beautifully. Hot.
That little path of dark hair that she’d glimpsed in the office led all the way up to his belly button and there was a dark dusting across his toned chest. And his legs? Well, Laurel fully enjoyed that view. She wondered what his skin would taste like, all hot and delicious from running.
‘Did you see him being all embarrassed that he wasn’t wearing a top? Bless him,’ Rebecca said, breaking her out of his reverie.
‘What?’
If there was one thing Nate Daley wasn’t, it was embarrassed by anything. He was always flaunting his obnoxious body in her office.
‘Why else do you think he went all red and put it on as soon as he saw us?’ Rebecca gave her the ‘you’re stupid’ look. ‘Perhaps it was because you were literally drooling.’
‘Shut up,’ Laurel said, grinning. ‘He is hot though, isn’t he?’
Rebecca grinned back. ‘Mmm hmm.’
Laurel looked over Lower Houghton and bit her lip.
‘I nearly asked him back to mine last night. I was fully prepared to jump his bones.’
Rebecca squealed. ‘Laurel, you dog! Why didn’t you?’
Laurel pointed to the picture of Anwar hugging the toilet and rolled her eyes. ‘Anwar throwing up is why. One of the girls screeched for Nate and he had to go.’
Rebecca’s brow furrowed in thought and she opened her mouth, obviously thought better of whatever she was going to say, and snapped it shut again.
‘What? I know that look,’ Laurel said.
‘Maybe,’ Rebecca started and then sighed. ‘Laurel, don’t take this the wrong way, but do you think you could just have a one night stand with him?’
The breeze ruffled her hair.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, warily.
Rebecca turned to face her, squinting into the sun.
‘I know you, Laurel Fletcher. I see how you watch him, how you’re awkward and weird around him.’ Rebecca hesitated. ‘You like him, much more than a one night stand.’
Laurel glanced away from Rebecca because once again, her all-seeing, all-knowing best-friend-slash-sister-in-law was right. The last few weeks in the same office, spending last night with him. Yeah, she wanted him for a whole lot longer than one night, and if he didn’t, sharing her office with him would be horrendous.
Rebecca pushed on. ‘What if he doesn’t feel the same? What if you’re just a quick shag for him?’
Laurel looked at her hands, because that would be shit. Sure, they’d probably have a night of wanton, rampant, all-night sex, but how would she feel when he left afterwards? You knew what you were getting with Tinder dates. Thank you for your service, off you pop. Perhaps a second time around the mulberry bush, but perhaps not. No ties, no expectations.
What had Nate said? That he didn’t allow himself to expect things, so why would she be any different?
Rebecca was still talking.
‘I’m just warning you to be careful. I just don’t want you to be hurt.’ Laurel could hear the unspoken words that Rebecca would have to pick up the pieces. That was unfair of her. She would never ask Rebecca to take on her emotional baggage, but that wouldn’t stop her best friend from trying, from being there while she cried into a vat of rice pudding.
Laurel perked up. ‘Did you see him with his t-shirt off?’
Rebecca tipped her head back and laughed at the sky. ‘Yes, I most certainly did!’
‘Don’t worry, I won’t tell Jack you said that.’ Laurel shouldered her friend lightly.
Rebecca’s eyes darkened a little. ‘Seriously, I love you and I don’t want you to get hurt, okay?’
‘Yeah, I know.’ She was so lucky to have Rebecca. ‘But you have to talk to Jack.’
Rebecca nodded despondently.
Laurel pressed Rebecca’s hands to make her look at her.
‘Then you call me, yeah?’
‘Yeah, I will,’ Rebecca said. ‘Love you.’
‘Love you too.’
Nate
Nate didn’t spend any time in the office on Monday morning.
With Alex visiting, he needed the site to be immaculate.
Although Alex was his oldest and best friend, it didn’t mean that he’d get any special treatment, in fact, the complete opposite.
He squinted at his costs spreadsheet under the picnic umbrella put up on site and desperately hoped Alex wouldn’t pick up on anything wrong with it.
If he did, it would be another week’s delay in processing the funding application for the site tent and other bits he needed, because Alex would make him resubmit the whole thing.
It wasn’t that Alex was a jobsworth or a stickler for getting stuff right, it was that he liked to break Nate’s balls.
Alex thought taking him down a peg or two was funny.
Paul had sent the information about the Cathar site he was working on, and it looked amazing.
A mature dig of a small, long forgotten stronghold, a huddle of burned bones and, wonderfully, some English coins from Simon de Montfort’s ‘crusade’ to wipe out the Cathar religion.
Nothing that was earth shattering, history changing, but a nice addition to the well-known canon of Cathar history.
And, of course, the beautiful rolling hills and lazy sun of the south of France.
It was tempting, especially as autumn and winter were coming up.
An archaeological site in England in the winter? Not fun.
Nate wondered idly if the university would let him have a secondment for a few months.
Thing was though, he wasn’t sure he wanted to leave Little Willow Farm.
The site really was very promising.
Regardless of what he had told Laurel, he was sure that there was more under the earth.
There was an unaccounted for human femur, so there must be something. There had to be.
Anwar, now hangover free, could deal with the site with minimal supervision, so he didn’t have to be there.
But he had gold and dirt in his eyes, just like the students.
‘Dr Daley, have you thought anymore about moving me to trench one?’ Nate’s thoughts were interrupted by the same girl who had asked him this exact question on Friday.
She was furiously batting her spidery eyelashes, her top low enough to show the lace of her bra.
‘Yes,’ he lied.
‘No moving at the moment. I’ll revisit it in two weeks.’
She pouted and gave him what he could only imagine were doe eyes. Whilst he wasn’t quite old enough to be her father, he wasn’t far off from a legal, but teenaged, father, and seriously? Just no.
‘Okay, Dr Daley, remember me when you do.’ She sauntered off, shaking her ass.
‘Nope,’ he muttered, staring at his laptop screen.
Nate breathed a sigh of relief as the sun went in and the screen came fully into focus. Ten more minutes of work on this budget sheet and he should be done and able to spend the rest of the day in the earth.
‘Nate.’
Well, it would be ten minutes if he wasn’t interrupted all the time.
‘Oh, hey Jack, you alright?’ Nate hit ctrl+s.
Jack leaned against the makeshift table. He was always leaning against something. ‘You want to go for a drink tonight?’
‘I can’t, I’ve got my friend Alex coming to visit the site tomorrow and everything has to be ready.’ Nate launched into a whole explanation as to why he was hosting the British Archaeological Society liaison. ‘Why don’t you meet us tomorrow in the pub before closing?’
The other man shook his head.
‘Nah, I can’t be that late. I’ve got milking in the morning,’ his shoulders slumped. Jack was completely defeated.
‘Are you alright, mate?’ Nate asked gently. ‘Has something happened with Rebecca?’
Jack turned his shrewd eyes onto Nate. ‘Rebecca? Why do you say that?’
Nate’s stomach dropped.
‘Oh, no reason, just that I saw her and Laurel when I was out running on Saturday and it looked like Rebecca had been crying?’
Had he just thrust himself into some kind of family drama that he had no business, and no desire, to be in the middle of?
‘She was with Laurel?’ Jack asked, eyes flinty hard and jaw clenched.
‘Yeah,’ Nate said slowly. ‘I feel like I’ve done something wrong here, Jack. Is everything okay?’
Jack sighed and pinned his gaze on Nate. ‘Yeah, just a little disagreement with my wife that I didn’t really want my little sister weighing in on.’
Nate took pity on him. ‘Listen, I can be done with this paperwork and all prepared for Alex by six, seven at the latest. I can have one beer.’
Jack’s face lit up like a child who got extra dessert.
‘Do you mind? Won’t be long, just want to get out of the house,’ he said.
‘’Course not.’ Nate nodded. Jack was a good guy and was turning into a good friend. He sauntered away after extracting a promise from Nate to text him when he was ready.
Watching Jack go, he had a sinking feeling that he had just put his size ten feet into a massive pile of family shit. He texted Laurel.
Nate watched the three dots fade in and out across the WhatsApp message showing she was typing.
That was a short message after such a long interval.
He could almost see Laurel rolling her eyes in frustration.
There was a pause before she texted back.
Sort what? What had he walked blindly into? He didn’t want to know, but it was a bruise he couldn’t stop pushing.
Well. That meant that he had definitely done something wrong. He scrolled to her number and pressed the green button. She made him wait for four rings before she answered, when she blatantly had the phone in her hand. They were adult enough to have a conversation, surely.
‘Nate,’ she said, her voice clipped.
‘Laurel,’ he replied. She was silent. ‘I think I’ve walked into a family minefield and I want to make sure I don’t do it again.’
Laurel sighed down the phone. He waited. Not everyone appreciated his forthright approach. Lucia certainly hadn’t, but it was so much easier, rather than second guessing everything all the time. Just ask.
‘Look, I’ve got a lot on my plate at the moment. I didn’t know you were on site, Alex Woollard is coming tomorrow, and...’ she hesitated. ‘Jack and Rebecca are working through some stuff. Sometimes Jack doesn’t like the fact that his little sister is his wife’s best friend.’
Exactly what Jack had said. They’d obviously been there before.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,’ she said.
‘Okay, um, sorry,’ he said eventually, although what he was sorry for, he had absolutely no idea.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Oh, and Nate?’
‘Yeah?’
‘Thanks for calling,’ she said.
‘Okay, see you later.’ He grinned and ended the call.
He could one hundred percent stay out of family politics.