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‘And a nice cup of coffee and a chat with your parents over breakfast? No-o-o-o, thank you very much!’ Tasha opened her door and climbed out, leaning back in to smile at Rhys. ‘I’ll see you this evening.’
‘I’ll be counting down the hours. Do you need me to bring anything?’
‘Only your toothbrush.’
The next few days were manic for everyone and Tasha and Rhys saw each other in whatever spare bit of time they could snatch, which wasn’t very much. The campsite filled up over the course of the weekend, and Tasha was relieved that the majority of the feedback from guests was positive, especially about the activity packs she handed out to the families as she checked them in.
There were a few hiccups, of course, and one particular couple who gave Tasha the absolute run-around, calling her constantly to ask questions or complain about one thing or another. A dog was barking; someone’s kid had cycled past too close to their pitch and allegedly sent gravel flying that had hit the side of their caravan. Tasha had spent a frustrating half an hour staring at dozens of tiny marks and scratches that could’ve come from anywhere, but they wouldn’t have it. When the man started using words like ‘criminal damage’ Tasha bit the bullet and offered them a meal on her at the pub by way of compensation and surprise, surprise, they were all smiles again.
She’d squared it away with Iain at the pub, who’d called her the next day somewhat sheepishly to let her know they’d both ordered the most expensive dishes on the menu and, not one, but two bottles of wine. ‘I tried to refuse the second bottle, but when they demanded to know if you’d set a price cap, I didn’t know what to say.’
Tasha rubbed her forehead. ‘It’s fine, Iain, not your fault. Thankfully they’re only here for the weekend so they’re going home tonight. Let’s call it a lesson learned and when things quieten down a bit we can have a chat and put a proper system in place.’
‘Sounds like a plan. Oh, and I’m definitely on for that meal-deal idea so we can nail down the details for that at the same time.’
‘Brilliant. We’ll catch up soon, and thanks again for helping me out.’
Tasha set down her phone and rubbed her forehead again. She’d known they were taking advantage of her, but she was really angry at how far they’d pushed it. No, she was angry at herself for falling into their trap. Part of her wanted to go over to the campsite and confront them, but what good would that do? No. Best to let them enjoy getting one over on her and hope she’d heard the last of them. With a sigh she turned to her computer and decided she’d better check her emails.
Half an hour later and her inbox was up to date, but she still felt restless. Maybe she should do a bit of work on the glamping plans while it was quiet? She cast her eyes around the table, but couldn’t see her tablet. Remembering she’d been flicking through her ideas folder on her iPad in bed the previous night, Tasha went upstairs to fetch it. It was sitting on the bedside table next to her phone. It was Sunday, which meant she owed Simon an email. Oh God, what was she going to say to him? It had felt awkward enough before, but now that she was seeing Rhys how on earth was she going to keep the pretence up?
The updates she’d sent him so far had been minimal, just general chat about how she was getting on and about how the estate was gearing up for Easter. She’d focused on the events that would be taking place, using the excuse of needing to see how they all went before she could fully evaluate what might successfully be applied to similar projects elsewhere. She’d bought herself a couple more weeks maximum, but she knew she was burning through her stock of goodwill with Simon. If she didn’t deliver something more concrete soon, there would be hell to pay.
Ignoring the phone, she picked up her iPad and headed back downstairs. It was a nice day so why not make the most of it? She could go and scout out some potential glamping spots and maybe call in at the dig site and see how they were getting on. She hadn’t had a chance to get up there yet, but she had a standing invitation to have a look around. It would be a good chance to check out how Declan worked as well. He’d impressed her with his knowledge when they’d chatted at the party, but she wanted to see him in action. She grabbed her keys and the estate phone from the table and headed out.
A couple of hours later, she pulled up outside the gate to the dig. The entrance was locked and there was no one in sight, but there was a safety notice attached to the gate with Declan’s name and a mobile phone number, so she called it. ‘Hello? I’m outside,’ she said, when he answered. ‘Is now a convenient time for a visit?’
‘Of course.’ Declan appeared in the doorway of one of the large grey Portakabins and gave her a wave.
Hanging up, she waited for him to come over and unlock the gate. ‘Am I all right to leave the car here, or do you want me to pull in?’
‘Should be fine there. Parking space is at a bit of a premium and I’m not expecting any deliveries.’ She followed him into the cabin, which turned out to be a canteen area with tables and chairs and a neat row of lockers along the back wall. She was impressed at the cleanliness. She’d been on a couple of site visits before, and her abiding memory was one of stale pizza boxes overflowing the bin and a counter full of dirty mugs.
‘Want a brew?’
‘Coffee, please, milk, no sugar.’
Declan nodded at the nearest table. ‘Have a seat.’ He reached for a large red folder that was sitting on the top of a filing cabinet and set it down in front of her. ‘Might as well familiarise yourself with this while we wait for the kettle to boil.’
Tasha opened the folder, which had an A4 sheet of paper tucked inside the protective pocket on the front that stated SITE RULES in a bold black font. She took her time reading the rules, which were laid out in clear bullet points and written in the kind of concise language anyone would be able to understand. She turned the page and stopped when she spotted a familiar logo. ‘Atkinsons?’
Declan set two mugs down on the table and took the seat opposite her. ‘I haven’t had a chance to update the paperwork yet so we’re using the same risk assessments and method statements that Cam and I put together last summer. I’ll redo them for next time.’
Tasha frowned, still confused. ‘What were Atkinsons doing running an archaeological dig in the first place? I thought they did big construction projects.’
Declan sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘That’s what they do now, but when they first started out it was much smaller stuff, mostly domestic. As the firm grew Rich – he’s the CEO at Atkinsons, by the way – well, he never wanted to lose sight of how they’d started, so he kept a small works department running. That’s where I worked, and Hope hired me and my team to build her a house up here. Only the digger hit those damn ruins with practically the first shovel of dirt and sent all that to pot.’ He took a sip of his coffee and studied her over the top of the mug. ‘So how do you know about them?’
Careful, Tasha. ‘I’ve come across them in the past, in another role as a project manager for a development company.’
‘Makes sense.’ Declan set his mug back down. ‘Anyway, I was all set to return here when they held a company-wide meeting and announced they’d been bought out. Rich was practically in tears as this toss— ah, excuse my language, this gentleman representing the new owner stood up and announced that, as well as a load of lay-offs and rate cuts for those of us who subcontract to them, the small works department was being shut down with immediate effect.’ He gazed moodily into his mug. ‘Loyalty counts for nothing, these days.’
Tasha was relieved he wasn’t looking at her, so she had a chance to try and compose her features. What the bloody hell had Russell been up to? And more to the point, what did Simon know about it? If this had been his plan all along, no wonder he’d wanted her off the project in a hurry. Was that why he’d been so determined to pack her off to Juniper Meadows – because he knew she’d try and fight him over this? Simon’s words came back to her then. You’re my secret weapon. You get me through the door on deals when I wouldn’t stand a chance otherwise. People trust you and that’s worth its weight in gold to me. She’d thought he’d been feeding her bullshit to keep her sweet but perhaps he’d meant it after all. Rich Atkinson wouldn’t have entertained an approach from SJW if Tasha hadn’t smoothed the way and made their collaboration a success.
‘You all right, there? You look a bit pale all of a sudden.’
Tasha had forgotten all about Declan for a minute. ‘I’m fine,’ she said, forcing herself to take a sip of her coffee. ‘Just a bit tired, that’s all.’
‘Hmm. Well, why don’t you just sit there quietly and finish your coffee? I’ve got a bit of paperwork to sort out, so I’ll pop back and see you in a few minutes.’
