Small Finds, Philip Colbourn, 2022
Small Finds, Chapter 29
On the tab
At the top of the page
Strictly speaking, this was Friday night
But Friday, in 2010, was the 30th July
Broderick drives Rachel up to Durham
They share history, memories
Mostly about Professor Patricia Hashay and stuff
At home, there is a letter waiting for him
They make a visit to the hospital in Birmingham
A roadside shrine
A lost coin leads them to Exeter
Magnus Maximus, emperor in Trier
Suspicious goings on at Undercrofts. Allegedly
Chapters 27 and 28
Small Finds
Thursday and Friday of Week Four at the summer dig
Under the 'Part Three' tab at the top of the page
We are halfway in our story
And over halfway through the dig
It is Wednesday of Week Four
Small Finds
Some routine instruction
Interruption
Interpretation
Relaxation
Perturbation
All in a day's work
Chapter 26
On the Part Three tab above, now
Tuesday came and Joshua Williams came with it
He was working in Finds and he found something
Chapter 25
Something confusing
Small Finds
Then Elyssia Gadnall turned up like a bad penny
Chapter 25 of Small Finds, the archaeology novel
Available now!
Click the Ch 22-25 tab at the top of the page and scroll down to the bottom
Small Finds
Chapter 25
Happy reading!
Monday
I'm a bit late posting Chapter 24
Life in 2022 taking preference over (fictional) life in 2010
But here it is:
Monday. The fourth week of the dig
Broderick Arnot up against it
Small Finds, the archaeology novel
Read the latest instalment on the Ch 22-24 tab above
It's 2010
There is one day difference in the dates
Today is Sunday 24th July 2022
But then, in 2010, Sunday was 25th July
Close, eh?
Small Finds, the novel
Things are not going too well, to be honest
Chapters 22 and 23 on the tab at the top
Saturday started off subdued
There are tears
The family arrived
There is some archaeology to talk about later, at the pub
Chapter 21 on the tab now
It's Friday!
It's a day off at the dig
But the world goes on turning, relentlessly
Today is another two chapter day
Small Finds, the archaeology novel
Chapters 19 and 20 are up on the new tab - Ch 19,20 - above
Things are getting a bit, well, you know...
Thursday is a two-chapter day for #SmallFinds
Chapters 17 and 18 are now up and ready to read
Click on the Ch 16-18 tab above
Small Finds, the archaeology novel
It's been a while
Well, two or three days
Not much happens on an archaeological dig for most of the time
Apart from the scrape of trowels, sweeping and shovelling
But today is different
Today they have trip to see the Lydney Roman temple by the Severn Estuary
Mortimer Wheeler was there
And his wife
Or should I say, Tessa Verney Wheeler and her husband
Chapter 16 has the story
As much of it as you are going to get, anyway
See the Ch 16- tab above for more
He's a bit distracted
Then he is even more distracted
This is not going well
He has a dig to run
Small Finds, the archaeology novel
And other stuff
Quite a lot of other stuff
Chapter Fifteen, on the Part Two tab now
It's Saturday and Broderick Arnot and his wife, Alison, are back in Durham
Not for long
Long enough
Not long enough
All of the above
Chapter Fourteen of the novel Small Finds is now available!
Catch up with the story under the Part Two tab above
Enjoy!
So, we completed Part 1 (of 4)
Now, at the start of Part Two, the Arnot family are still in Paris.
It's Thursday.
On Friday they are back in London.
Chapter 13 of Small Finds is up on the Part Two tab above
Chapter 12 is up!
You'll find it in the usual place - under the Ch 10-12 tab
It is at the bottom of the page, following on from chapters ten and eleven
Small Finds
I'm Phil Colbourn and Small Finds is a new archaeological novel by me.
You can follow the story as it unfolds by clicking on the tabs to the right of this Home tab.
I am also experimenting with republishing the chapters individually in this blog stream. When this is complete, you will be able to read the novel in reverse if you want to!
(But why would you? I've no idea.)
Small Finds
Archaeologists are human, too
Small Finds
The Summer Dig
Chapter 1
Monday 28th June 2010
You know what it’s like. Things are going along just fine and then someone pulls the rug out from under your life and everything starts falling in on top of you, like Sampson in the Philistine temple. That’s how it feels. Falling masonry.
When he arrived on site, it was like a scene from a film about Passchendaele: all mud, water and ruin. It put him in mind of the poets Edward Thomas and Wilfred Owen and of Vaughan Williams’ second symphony.
It had been the wettest June on record.
He had read somewhere that July was the wettest month of the year, beating December and January, but the weather seemed to have gone haywire and, nowadays, you never knew what you were going to get from one day to the next. It was climate change, or the government, or something. In light of the recent election result, he was inclined to believe it was the government.
Dark, lumbering trucks reversed up to the gate and tipped their loads of stone in the gateway and Colin Squires, perched high in the cab of his JCB, spread the stone across the corner of the field that would serve as a car park and a place to put the temporary toilets. The loos would be arriving any day now.
Colin’s JCB glowed yellow in the damp air as he parked the mechanical beast and jumped down to walk across to the shelter of the marquee.
"You’ve got a problem here," Colin said.
The problem was that the trench, covered at the end of last year’s dig, was now full of water. It looked like a giant paddling pool.
"The students will love it," Joe said.
That was what he was worrying about. How could he let fifty or sixty students loose in this battlefield? He needed a miracle.
He got his miracle.
The next day, the rain stopped, the grass dried out and the site hut and the marquee, and everything else, dripped quietly waiting for students to arrive.
For a day or two, or three, the place exists in an indeterminate state, like an abandoned city; like a ghost ship drifting on a formless sea. The emptiness of the place seems to emphasise that it is a temporary camp; the latest in a long line of occupation.
The land remains, he thinks, but the people come and go.
There is work to do if this place is going to be ready for the students when they arrive. His grandmother used to say: ‘Everything in its place and a place for everything’. That was his aim as he stood at the edge of the trench that Thursday morning. Broderick Arnot wanted to see everything in its place. He wanted to see everything located, measured and recorded.
It's Thursday evening and Broderick is watching Joe Fitchitt operate the dumpy level. Joe has the instrument on the ordnance datum point they established last year. Knowing that one fixed point, they can measure the level of everything in the trench and its height above sea level.
This skill, that of using a surveyor’s level, is one of the skills students will learn this summer. Broderick Arnot is looking forward to their arrival. He loves working with the students. They have so much life, so much energy; so much potential.
It is one more day before they start to arrive.
“Up a bit. Back a bit. Right a bit.”
Joe Fitchitt is yelling instructions to a young woman in the trench. She moves the vertical, red and white pole backwards and forwards until Joe is satisfied, then she hammers in a peg. They make a good team: Joe, the blond giant, his hair tied back in a ponytail and his face bronzed by the weather, and Mariam, petite and dark. Mariam Bandarachaka is of Bangladeshi descent, or perhaps Indian, or Pakistani, or something. He cannot remember exactly.
He knows Mariam’s ancestors came from somewhere near Calcutta but she was born and brought up here, in Lynchcombe Sandicott, in Gloucestershire. In her day jobs, she works as a librarian at Ancester College and in the town library.
Mariam Bandarachaka moves closer carrying a yellow plastic bucket with its white pegs, hammer, surveying tape and string, and the red and white pole.
“How’s it going?” Broderick asks.
“Good,” she says. “We’ll have it straight by tonight.”
There is another yell from Joe.
“Sorry,” she says. “Have to go.”
She waves at Joe and moves off to mark the next point of the grid.
A sudden voice at Broderick’s elbow makes him jump and he turns to find Sue Feenan standing next to him. She has a problem.
“There’s no electricity in the office,” she says.
“Yes, there is.”
“No, there effing isn’t.”
“Yes, there is. It’s there,” Broderick says. “You just can’t see it.”
He ducks.
The generator has stopped and Robin Gadnall has gone home. Someone has to fix it. After a few attempts, Broderick gets it going and Sue does what she needs to do. By the time she has finished and leaves the office it is almost ten thirty.
Broderick Arnot sits at the desk for a few moments longer. Here he is, he thinks. He is the director of the student summer dig for the School of Archaeology. He has mixed feelings about it, to be honest. Of course, this is where he likes to be, out in the field, on a dig with the students but it has meant cancelling the family holiday and, to add to his discomfort, today is Alison’s birthday.
He pulls the laptop towards him and types in a message:
Thursday 2 July 2010. Dig HQ. Lynchcombe Sandicott.
Hope you’ve had a good day. Happy birthday!
The students start arriving tomorrow. Everything’s ready but I’m knackered.
Turning in now. Sleep well. Love you, Brodie
He clicks the button and his email shoots off round the globe, hopping from one satellite to another and back to planet Earth before landing, he hopes, in the computer in the corner of the living room at home in County Durham. He closes the computer and pushes it away, but he doesn’t leave. He stays where he is and lets the day seep away around him into the summer night.
There is a newspaper lying on the desk and he picks it up and runs his eyes over the headlines but he is too tired to read it and he puts it back on the desk. He read it earlier. He knows what is in it.
He unplugs the computer and puts it away in the drawer, locks the desk and pushes himself to his feet. He stretches and rolls his shoulders and goes out, turning off the light and closing the door.
Outside, he shuts off the generator.
Silence.
Softly, it has started to rain.
----------------------------------------------------------
More! More! I hear you say.
There will be more coming later. Honest.
It is still Monday, after all.
Stay tuned
The weekend goes by in a blur
and then it's Monday
and he's on a train heading north
Who is that stranger sitting opposite?
Uh-huh! Wait! He's coming over!
You can read Chapter Ten now. It's on the new tab above: Ch 10-12
Go for it
Friday was a long day
A two and a bit chapter day.
Eventually, it did come to an end.
Not satisfactorily but inevitably.
Saturday, the students are back but it's different sort of day.
More trouble.
Chapter Nine is up. (See the tab Ch 7-9 above)
Enjoy!
Now up!
The next two chapters are up on the Ch 7-9 tab above.
Happy reading!
Is it Thursday already?
On Thursday morning, Broderick Arnot crawled out of his tent and pushed himself to his feet. Thursday 8th July 2010 had dawned bright and breezy.
Small Finds chapter 5 is now up!
Find it on the Chapter Four + tab above
Or click here: CLICK HERE
Happy reading!
It's Sunday.
This is where the students get set loose.
All three of the first three chapters - does that make sense? - are now up under the Part One tab above.
Up? Under? Above?
Where is this taking us?
#SmallFinds - a summer dig.
Or click here: CLICK HERE
It's here!
The next instalment.
It's the first Saturday at the dig. The students arrive.
Chapter 2 is attached to the tail of Chapter 1 on the Part One tab above
Enjoy!
