Page 27 of Buried In Between

‘Gosh, I bet. You can take the day off if you’d like, spend the day together? You don’t need to be here all of the time.’

The kindness in her voice almost let him spill his guts but he stymied the words with another sip of coffee.

He would love nothing more than a fun and relaxed day with Emily. Quality one-on-one time. What a dream. How to say that he needed to be here, though, keep this job progressing, on track, get paid. All so he could fight for more days with Emily. It was ironic, wasn’t it? His girl was here and he couldn’t spend time with her. But most parents worked; he wasn’t special. And he wouldn’t work tomorrow—he usually would work Saturday—and he’d spend the weekend with her.

‘No, not at all,’ he brushed her off. ‘As long as you don’t mind her hanging around?’

‘No, not at all,’ she threw back at him. ‘In fact, you’re probably doing me a favour. Looks like these two are going to be great mates.’

They both observed the children to be tickling the puppies on their tummies and gushing over them.

‘You get started. I’ll yell out if we need you.’

‘Thank you,’ his voice was deep with emotion and he avoided Ava’s eye. As he walked away, the kids were yelling out name suggestions for the puppies.

Throughout the day he saw them feed the horses, have endless turns on the gigantic trampoline in the yard and at one point, they delivered biscuits. ‘Did you make these yourself?’ he asked them only to receive a nod.

‘These are the only two left!’ And they giggled, running off again to their next adventure. Seeing Emily having such fun assuaged his guilt a little.

Ava watched the two children playing and couldn’t help imagine what it would be like to have a daughter. Of course, if these two were siblings, they’d probably be bickering as brothers and sisters were prone to do.

She might be feeling melancholy that she didn’t have a daughter, but she was also grateful. The culture her son had been born into was bad enough for a boy, but for a girl … Ava’s body shuddered at the memory of Henry’s teenage niece who had lived in the palace with them, wearing clothes she had borrowed from an American friend. It was an innocuous ensemble of a denim miniskirt with its hem above her knees and mid-drift top. She’d been so innocent and proud until she’d been punished and told it was immodest and ordered to remove it immediately only for it to be burned in a hostile ceremony led by Henry’s brother, Ahmed, in front of the entire extended family.

The first time Ava had been directed to wear appropriate clothing she’d been incensed.

But not for the first time she reminded herself she was safe in Bellethorpe. Her son would not be raised to believe men were the superior gender, the worthy sex. She would never again be directed on what to wear.

Yes, she’d brushed away her thoughts on this topic in front of Noah, but she felt very strongly about the role of men and women in society. Freedom of any sort was not something she would ever take for granted again. Civil liberties for everyone needed to be maintained. And as far as she was concerned, that started with not re-enforcing gender or any other sorts of stereotypes. Ish had helped bake the biscuits. He would learn to cook and perform other tasks often considered “girls work”.

This made her think of Jamila. How was she? Was she coping? Safe? Not a day passed that Ava didn’t think of her.

Having been born into a similar cultural hierarchy, albeit a less strict and more forgiving one, Jamila was aware of what she married into. Ava, however, fiercely in love with her husband, wasn’t blindsided, exactly, it was more like an insidious mould that grew slowly and spread until it could no longer be controlled. But Jamila’s situation was serious and she worried for her friend. To numb these feelings, Ava reached for the dirty clothes basket. She’d put a load on while the kids were occupied with building Lego.

Something knocked the stainless steel of the tub as she threw in her jeans. Oh, the rocks! Tugging the pants back she out extracted them. They glittered and her stomach fizzed like shaken lemonade. Grabbing the nearest towel, she wrapped them up and rushed outdoors to place them on the table.

Along the way she retrieved the brand-new toolkit she’d ordered online, one of her first purchases after settling in. Opening the beautiful leather tie-up satchel, a wave of melancholy hit her. This kit was beautiful but not her original. Her first dig kit had been a present from her parents upon graduation. It remained in pristine condition due to its lack of use after she’d moved overseas. Didn’t mean it didn’t hold a special place in her heart, though and she wished she could use it now. She brushed her hands over the smooth leather, it didn’t matter; this kit was probably better. Ava wondered what would happen to her tools and the other belongings they’d left behind?

In the kitchen she grabbed a bowl and the household vinegar. Despite it being the afternoon, she turned on the outdoor florescent lights.

There were ten objects in total. First, she placed one into a shallow bowl of vinegar. It was a household trick, but it should work. No more than two minutes and the acetic acid should dissolve the carbonates which are a component of sedimentary rock. Her legs jiggled as she waited, and she examined the other items. Perhaps they weren’t all rock. A couple had odd-looking bits to them. She resisted considering them more closely, one at a time.

Another bowl of warm water to the ready, and her trusty soft-bristled toothbrush, she let the droplets roll off the object to dry a little. Colour was immediately obvious. Bold with an underlaying dark base. Ava turned on her headlamp and began brushing into the cracks that were distinct on one side of the stone. This one had a strange shape, like a crescent moon or a croissant. Quickly a centimetre squared section of bright lime green revealed itself. The base was clearer, somewhat translucent and the green area was surrounded by less vibrant mottled colours.

She sat back in the chair and held it up. It was a pinecone. Ava had discovered an opalised fossil of a pinecone, she was pretty sure.

Not able to help herself now, she picked up each one in turn. One might be a shell if the distinct curved sides were any indication. One had a sharp, spiked edge and it had a metal-like quality. She tugged it gently and it held fast. Could it be a tag? A hard-edged rim? Or, her mind turned back to her conversation with Peter Shoebridge. Could it be the remnants of a piece of silver jewellery?

A black crow cawed as it took flight and the noise startled her. The bird launched itself off the paddocks of dry grass and became a black dot in the blue afternoon sky. The glare had lessened and the intense heat of the day was waning. The crow flew towards the bushes at the rear of the property. Were these finds related to the piles near the rock pool? Or was her mind stretching too far?

Steps thudded up the stairs and Ava covered the items.

Most of her equipment was back in her satchel by the time Noah arrived at the table. Ava greeted him and shone the headlamp right into his eyes. ‘Oh! Sorry.’ She removed it and patted down her hair.

‘That looks interesting.’

‘Hmm. Taking some time to examine a few rocks that I found.’

‘Wow, rocks, okay.’

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