other. The two stone-built wings that sprouted either side were built in the same material but
in a different, more boastful style. At somepoint in the house’s history an effort had been made to push the place upmarket and convert it from a working farm to a home
fit for gentry.
The door was opened by Jill Persimmon who looked wary at first. Then her expression changed to one of polite curiosity when
she recognised him.
‘Oh, you’re the archaeologist, aren’t you?’
‘That’s right. Mind if I come in?’
She looked down disapprovingly at his boots and he got the message. He took them off and left them neatly on the doormat before
following her into the house.
When he’d received the cup of tea he’d been hoping for, Jill sat down opposite him and leaned forward, as if preparing to
share a confidence.
‘Those skeletons … they are old, aren’t they? The last thing we want is to have police crawling all over the place. We need
to get the electrics into the outhouse so that Tony can get the consultancy going. And then there’s my business. We just can’t
afford any delays. You do see that, don’t you?’
Neil said nothing for a few moments. It really wasn’t his problem. But he decided that it was probably safe to put her mind
at rest on one thing at least. ‘As far as I can tell, the skeletons look old, maybe a few hundred years.’
Jill Persimmon looked relieved. ‘So we’ll be able to carry on with the work?’
‘Well, you’ll need a go-ahead from the police but I can put in a word. I was at university with the inspector.’ He grinned
modestly. ‘And I don’t know whether it’s been mentioned to you but we need to conduct a geophysics survey of the area, just
to make sure there are no more bodies down there.’
Jill’s pale blue eyes widened in dismay.
‘It’s just a precaution,’ Neil said hastily. ‘I’ve got the equipment with me and some colleagues are arriving soon to carry
out the investigation. The whole thing will only take a day or two and it’ll save you getting any nasty shocks in the future
if you want to put more cabling or pipes in.’
He watched as Jill considered the matter, hoping that this appeal to self-interest would work wonders. And it did.
‘I see what you mean,’ she said. ‘I suppose it makes sense but …’
At that moment Tony Persimmon appeared in the doorway. As soon as he saw Neil he was all affability and told him to do whatever
needed doing so that they needn’t be bothered again. Neil suspected that behind the bonhomie Tony was secretly wishing he’d
never called the police out in the first place. All this was holding up his well-laid business plans. Time, as Neil had heard
people say so often, was money.
But before he left the Persimmons in peace, Neil couldn’t resist asking the question he’d been longing to ask since he set
eyes on Tailors Court. ‘What do you know about the history of this place?’
The couple exchanged a look. Then Jill spoke. ‘The estate agent told us that part of the house dated back to the fifteenth
century. Then a wealthy family made some alterations in Tudor times. I think they added the outer wings. We bought it off
a family called Jannings, didn’t we, Tony?’
‘That’s right. Old girl had to go into a home because the place was too much for her. She must have been pushing ninety.’
‘She lived here alone?’
‘Yes. The place was in a right state but we saw the potential, didn’t we, Tony?’
Neil looked round. They were sitting in the kitchen; obviously one of the first rooms they’d attended to. It was a large low
room, the modern take on the traditional farmhouse kitchen. It was newly fitted out and the hand-painted units must have cost
a fortune.
‘How far have you got with the renovations?’ Neil asked as though he was interested. But his mind was racing ahead, wondering
about the parts of the place that had so far not been touched.
‘Half of
in a different, more boastful style. At somepoint in the house’s history an effort had been made to push the place upmarket and convert it from a working farm to a home
fit for gentry.
The door was opened by Jill Persimmon who looked wary at first. Then her expression changed to one of polite curiosity when
she recognised him.
‘Oh, you’re the archaeologist, aren’t you?’
‘That’s right. Mind if I come in?’
She looked down disapprovingly at his boots and he got the message. He took them off and left them neatly on the doormat before
following her into the house.
When he’d received the cup of tea he’d been hoping for, Jill sat down opposite him and leaned forward, as if preparing to
share a confidence.
‘Those skeletons … they are old, aren’t they? The last thing we want is to have police crawling all over the place. We need
to get the electrics into the outhouse so that Tony can get the consultancy going. And then there’s my business. We just can’t
afford any delays. You do see that, don’t you?’
Neil said nothing for a few moments. It really wasn’t his problem. But he decided that it was probably safe to put her mind
at rest on one thing at least. ‘As far as I can tell, the skeletons look old, maybe a few hundred years.’
Jill Persimmon looked relieved. ‘So we’ll be able to carry on with the work?’
‘Well, you’ll need a go-ahead from the police but I can put in a word. I was at university with the inspector.’ He grinned
modestly. ‘And I don’t know whether it’s been mentioned to you but we need to conduct a geophysics survey of the area, just
to make sure there are no more bodies down there.’
Jill’s pale blue eyes widened in dismay.
‘It’s just a precaution,’ Neil said hastily. ‘I’ve got the equipment with me and some colleagues are arriving soon to carry
out the investigation. The whole thing will only take a day or two and it’ll save you getting any nasty shocks in the future
if you want to put more cabling or pipes in.’
He watched as Jill considered the matter, hoping that this appeal to self-interest would work wonders. And it did.
‘I see what you mean,’ she said. ‘I suppose it makes sense but …’
At that moment Tony Persimmon appeared in the doorway. As soon as he saw Neil he was all affability and told him to do whatever
needed doing so that they needn’t be bothered again. Neil suspected that behind the bonhomie Tony was secretly wishing he’d
never called the police out in the first place. All this was holding up his well-laid business plans. Time, as Neil had heard
people say so often, was money.
But before he left the Persimmons in peace, Neil couldn’t resist asking the question he’d been longing to ask since he set
eyes on Tailors Court. ‘What do you know about the history of this place?’
The couple exchanged a look. Then Jill spoke. ‘The estate agent told us that part of the house dated back to the fifteenth
century. Then a wealthy family made some alterations in Tudor times. I think they added the outer wings. We bought it off
a family called Jannings, didn’t we, Tony?’
‘That’s right. Old girl had to go into a home because the place was too much for her. She must have been pushing ninety.’
‘She lived here alone?’
‘Yes. The place was in a right state but we saw the potential, didn’t we, Tony?’
Neil looked round. They were sitting in the kitchen; obviously one of the first rooms they’d attended to. It was a large low
room, the modern take on the traditional farmhouse kitchen. It was newly fitted out and the hand-painted units must have cost
a fortune.
‘How far have you got with the renovations?’ Neil asked as though he was interested. But his mind was racing ahead, wondering
about the parts of the place that had so far not been touched.
‘Half of
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