Page 2 of A Perfect Discovery

Jay side-eyed her. ‘Why don’t we all get shell tattoos to commemorate our find?’

‘Great idea.’ said Annike, ‘Let’s do it. I saw a parlour in town.’

‘You in?’ said Jay.

‘Em, well, I don’t know.’ Rhona ran sand between her fingers.

‘You’re the finder after all. The almighty finder of the shell of Crete,’ Jay boomed like he was announcing it in the Parthenon.

‘Go on,’ said Annike. ‘Guys like tattoos. Get one on your boobs and you’ll have men crawling over you.’

‘You’re gross,’ said Jay.

The wind carried off Rhona’s sigh. She picked up her beer bottle and drained it. Every dig she’d done had thrown up a new set of friends but this group was her least favourite so far. They were in the same profession, they should have something in common, right?

‘You love me really,’ said Annike.

‘No, I don’t.’

‘What about Rhona?’

Jay yawned. ‘I’m not here to date.’

‘Me neither,’ said Rhona.

‘No?’ said Annike. ‘But you’re not seeing anyone, are you?’

‘Nope.’Thanks for the reminder.Her love life was dire. Jay didn’t do much on her internal “sparkometer” – something she’d invented as a teenager to rate her crushes. He was ok in a scruffy kind of way but like most guys she’d met, he barely rated above “acceptable” and didn’t come close to Henry Cavill, her celebrity crush. Her previous relationships weren’t exactly up there withRomeo and Juliet; drama and tragedy aside, they hadn’t even led to anything steady. Who wanted a dirty digger of no fixed abode as a long-term girlfriend?

∞∞∞

Annike persuaded Rhona to get the tattoo on the back of her shoulder, though Rhona kind of fancied it on her ankle. She went with it, but one glimpse of the needle and she fainted. Two hours and one revival later and the three of them plus team leader Simon emerged from the parlour sporting identical shell tattoos. ‘All thanks to you, Rhona.’ Simon beamed from ear to ear beneath his fluffy grey beard. ‘My first tattoo at fifty-nine. My wife will kill me.’

‘Oh no.’ Rhona smiled at his mock horror. ‘This is meant to be a celebration, not a sacrifice.’

‘Ha, the sacrifice of Simon.’

Rhona linked her arm with him as they strolled along the traditional cobbled street. ‘I’m sure your wife will love it.’

Simon patted her hand. ‘Let’s hope you’re right.’

Annike volunteered to proofread the report on the shell and send it off. Rhona was grateful after spending days square-eyed at her laptop, making sure she got in every detail she could. She hadn’t even started packing and only four days remained. If her contract was renewed, she would be back the following year, but she was investigating management positions on the off chance she’d get something last minute. The problem was always the same, however, nothing appealed to her inner romantic. She wanted to specialise in 3D reconstruction but competition was intense and jobs few.

On the penultimate day, they were summoned to a meeting with the dig director. Simon rubbed his palms together as he led his team towards the site office.

‘Pity we don’t get medals for this job. We’re the star team.’ He patted Rhona on the shoulder. The skin around the tattoo smarted and she winced slightly. ‘Thanks to you.’

She hugged him around the waist.

‘Oh, what’s this for?’

‘You’re just a great team leader. I probably won’t get to work with you again, but I’m glad I got to this time.’ She adjusted her long blonde ponytail, her hair thick with dust. It needed a twenty-four-hour soak to regain its shine. Even that might not work.

‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ Simon grinned and fluffed his bushy hair.

Annike gaped with an expression of stunned disbelief. Obviously her liking for all things male didn’t extend to almost sixty year olds whose dress sense was one step up from tramp.

The director shook hands with everyone before they sat on creaky fold-up chairs. A buzz of chatter thrummed in the dry heat. People making plans and moving on. Where would Rhona go next? She’d applied for a few jobs and hopefully her find would springboard her to greater things. She crossed her fingers and pushed them under her thigh. The director pulled out an iPad. ‘Right, so Simon’s team. Well done, you made the discovery of the year with the pottery shell.’

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