Free Grave Consequences by Dana Cameron Page B

for your lunch?”
    “No, thank you. Jane has me all taken care of.”
    The old lady waved her hand dismissively and returned to the counter. I didn’t notice anything else after that, save for the mug in front of me. The coffee was only a shade or two darker than tan, not much darker than Greg’s tea, and there was a faint greenish sheen swirling around on the surface. I sipped; it was hot and scorched and bitter and very, verystrong. Coffee I would have avoided like a paper cut at home I now welcomed with surging relief. I felt the pain in my head recede at last.
    “We should get going,” I said guiltily, when I’d finished gulping. “It’s almost quarter past.”
    “Oh.” He glanced down at his watch. “We’ve got another forty-five minutes.”
    “You don’t start until nine?” I was astonished. “But that’s…practically noon.”
    “Are you complaining?”
    “Oh, God, no. I’m not a morning person—”
    “Really? I’d never have guessed. Still we should leave a bit early, to get you oriented. So you’ll have time for another cup or two, before we get going.”
    He glanced over to the counter and frowned. “Aunty’s not looking on top form today, I’m worried she’s not been feeling well lately.”
    I looked over and saw Aunty chewing out a couple of the other patrons for bolting their food; they looked amused and did their best to reassure her that they’d taken their time and chewed properly. She looked okay to me, but then I saw her sigh again heavily, and wondered if Greg wasn’t right.
    On our way out, fifteen minutes later, Greg excused himself, pausing to speak with one of the men across the room. I decided to buy a candy bar, just in case my jet lag slowed me down later. Mads saw me pause in front of the small rack.
    “So, you’re here to work with Greg. You going to be here all summer, then?”
    Her voice was as thin as she was, not high-pitched but a little unsteady.
    “No, just a couple of weeks. I’ve got research to do in London and so I’m combining it with a visit to Jane and Greg.”
    “And you’re an archaeologist too?”
    “That’s right.”
    Mads rubbed a cloth over the cash register. “Are you married?”
    Ah, that’s it; she’s worried I’m poaching on Greg. “Yes, I am. Brian’s at home.”
    “What’s he think of you gallivanting all over the place?” She looked at me sharply.
    “Well, he misses me, but he knows it’s for work, and it won’t be forever. He has to do the same sometimes, so we just try to make the best of it.”
    “Hmm.” Apparently satisfied that I wasn’t going to disrupt things too much, she relented. “You want one of them candy bars?”
    “I’m trying to decide which one would be good. Any suggestions?”
    “I’m not supposed to eat sweets—they do awful things to my dentals—but…” She lowered her voice to a whistling whisper. “I do like one of them Double Deckers, every so often.”
    “Okay, I’ll take one of them.”
    Auntie Mads beamed approval as I picked a hideously colored one in a bright purple and orange wrapper and paid.
    Greg came up to us. “All right, then, Emma?”
    “All set.” I pocketed my candy bar.
    “Good-bye, Auntie. You be good today.”
    Mads kissed him on the cheek again. “Well, Greg, when I’m not good, I’m careful not to get caught. You mind yourself.”
     
    If I’d known what would be waiting for me at the site, I would have had a fourth cup of coffee, and maybe a fifth. As we approached the dig, I could see Jane chewing out Andrew. Even though I couldn’t hear what she was saying, I could see the tension in her body and how the sharp, jabbing movements of her hands as she gestured were echoed by the way her hair swung in short, uniform arcs as she moved her head. There were students already at work, removing the covering from their units, putting out tools and notebooks.They didn’t seem fazed by Jane’s tirade; in fact, I noticed with a frown, they had a radio on and I