Chapter 7

When at last she ceased crying for a moment, Reg asked, “What’s wrong, my sweet? What can we do to help?”

She lifted her face to look him in the eye. “I am so HAPPY, Reg, that’s why I am crying. Daddy has said it is okay to be with you; the girls are okay with me joining them, and you are a marvellous lover for me. Life couldn’t be sweeter.”

“Oh. I don’t think I am properly conversant with sociology yet, as I had no idea why you were crying. It worried me, Fiona.”

“Reg, I didn’t know myself why I was crying. It just came over me after Daddy left. Please hold me a little longer; run your hands up and down my back; perhaps hold my butt cheeks for a while and pull me against you. It all makes me feel part of our togetherness. I know I have to share, but I’d like to have you to myself from time to time.”

“All the girls like that, Fiona. I always make sure each has personal time with me, one-to-one. It gives me a good feeling too, you know, helping my girls.”

Prudence poked her head round the door to see the pair, and commented, “Did you have a good cry, Fiona?” Fiona responded, “I did, thank you, Prudence. I was needing it, and I feel a lot better now. You can have Reg back, if you want him for yourself.”

Prudence chuckled at this. “I want him any time I can have him, Fiona. The trouble is, there is always someone else who wants him at the same time. That is why we often have him between two of us of a night. One gets to make love with him before sleep, and the other when we wake in the morning. Day time is a bummer during term time; he is always busy, either with his own studies, helping someone else with their studies, or learning some more about dealing with people. He has probably by now read more books on sociology than you have.”

“So why do you, or rather Frances for the group, occasionally send him out on his own?”

“Nine times out of ten, it is because we want a girls talk with no chance of Reg walking in on us, but the last ten per cent is more to give him a break from women being around him all the time. Did you notice how much he enjoyed going out alone to a field, metal detectoring? That was some ‘away from the girls’ time for him. Remember, it is not that long ago he was a complete loner, and now he has four girls, from today five, hanging around with him most of the day and night. He needs a breather from time to time, so don’t begrudge him that, Fiona.”

“I won’t, Prudence. I don’t want to do anything to disturb the beautiful balance you have here.”

Frances returned at this moment, to tell her husband, “Reg, the forecast says it will be dry today, but raining tomorrow, 80 per cent chance. Does that affect your detector machine?”

“Gosh, I have no idea, Frances. I must have skipped that when I was reading the instruction booklet. I’ll go back and check that now.”

He did his reading, and found no reference to variability due to damp soil. He moved to the family desk computer, and did a search on the subject. It provided the solution that the manufacturer omitted.

Dampish soil improved the detector’s sensitivity, but very wet soil tended to reduce its range by making the results fuzzy. The consensus seemed to be that by adjusting the detector’s control settings, with slightly damp soil you could find coins at a greater depth.

Reg found that interesting, but was uncertain whether the existing soil conditions in the field he had the use of, could be regarded as damp or dry. He didn’t know enough. He would have to consult the farmer.

Picking up the house phone, he dialled the man and posed the question.

“Sir, do you regard the soil in the field I was searching as dry or damp, or what? It seems that different amounts of water in the soil affects what the detector can detect.”

“That’s a tricky question, son. There is a slight slope to the field, on the diagonal, so the higher parts are drier and the lower parts wetter; thus there is no single answer. What are the effects you are talking about?”

“Well, apparently in slightly damp soil you can detect coins at a greater depth than is possible with dry soil. It is related to soil conductivity, but unfortunately ANY metal object tends to show up more readily to the detector, so all sorts of rubbish will be found. The detector has settings for specific metals, so that you can search for copper coins or silver coins or gold coins. I don’t think I am experienced enough to know what I ought to be doing in its operation.”

The farmer was optimistic, saying, “Based on what the Finds Liaison Officer has told me, go back to where you found that coin concretion – that is what the finds guy called it: a mass of coins stuck together; so I suspect it will have a monetary value, depending on how many coins are included, and their condition. The coin sticking out seemed to be silver, so on the basis of them all being silver, try the same location for silver, and see if you get any hits. If you don’t, either widen your search area, or change your setting to other metals. How about that?”

“You are very perspicacious, sir, and erudite too.”

“Just because I am a farmer doesn’t mean I am not educated, lad. I have a degree in geology, but my family needed me to take over the farm when my father retired. I have made a success of it through my knowledge, so I am well enough off that I don’t have any great compulsion to grab the value of your finds. We can do a fifty-fifty split, as recommended, if that is agreeable to you?”

“Sounds fair to me, sir. I took on this task as a means of getting me out of the house and breathing some fresh country air. Any finds of interest or value are a bonus to me.”

“That’s the way to approach it, lad. Treat it as a hobby, but don’t let the hobby become an obsession. I have seen squads of detectorists going over and over patches of ground like a locust swarm. To me, that is not a hobby, but avarice run mad.”

“Thanks for the advice, sir. The forecast is for rain tomorrow, so I was going to suggest I come over for an hour or so today, to see if I can get that GPS coordinate for the Finds man.”

“Good idea, Mr Robertson. Let us know when you arrive and leave, please, for everyone’s safety.”

Later that day, Reg said his goodbyes and set off for the farmhouse, armed with his detector and Frances’ smart phone. She had explained how to read the GPS coordinates from it, and make a note of the measurement for recalling later.

He called at the farmhouse, reported his presence, then headed for the field. Once there, he paced forward to the approximate location where he thought he had excavated the concretion. Looking around him, he remembered a tall tree and a distant electricity pylon were in approximately a straight line, so moved himself around until he achieved that sight line. Next, he had to find whereabouts on that line he had been standing. He recalled looking at a distant hill, visible between two taller trees that were hedging the field, but WHICH two trees? His memory was vague on that view.

To find them, he walked backwards so that he could maintain his first sight line, looking to the side towards the line of tree edging the field. The hilltop moved into sight on several of his views, so which pair of trees were the right ones? In his memory, they seemed taller than the other trees, so he endeavoured to select the tallest ones. There was not much difference between several trees, but finding two tall trees next to each other with a visual gap was enough to let him pin down the trees in question. The hill was indeed visible, if somewhat hazy at present. That would do, he decided, and looked around at the bare soil. There was a patch that seemed to have been disturbed by his previous excavation, but that was not certain, merely a good guess. He decided this was the spot, so would mark its location.

He stopped and fiddled with the smart phone, making sure he operated it as instructed by Frances. He was at last able to get a reading. This apparently was the phone fixing on four satellites or more, giving it a fix on his position.

He went through the procedure for fixing this reading in the phone’s memory, then he wrote it down on the palm of his hand with his ballpoint pen, as backup in case he had done something wrongly; a belt and braces philosophy.

Having positioned himself with a GPS location, he now switched on his metal detector and set it to identify coins, and the metal to be silver. Hopefully that would give him a chance, if there were more silver coins to be found.

Casting the detector’s detection ring over the ground he tried to cover a metre square, based on his position as the centre point. He had come armed with a pocketful of twigs from the house garden, and at every bleep, even the smallest signal, he stuck a twig in the ground as a marker. Once he had completed his survey of the square, he looked at the distribution of his twigs.

There was definite concentration around one point, so he re-scanned these points, looking at the signal strength this time. For each relatively strong signal, he stuck a second twig beside the first, to give him a visual display of the results.

He could see a specific spot where two sets of twigs were fairly close together, and stuck his garden trowel upright in the ground to pinpoint where he would dig. Thinking outside the box, he decided to try again by setting the detector for silver, and not for coins. He found that the signals he got were diminished, suggesting that the ‘hit’ was silver but possibly not coins, or at least not many coins. He reset the metal as ‘bronze, and went over the ground again. He again got a result for each location, suggesting bronze in association with silver, whatever that meant.

Having done that, he moved a couple of metres away and laid down his detector, well away from the excavation site. He could now dig down. The American-made detector had said a depth of six inches in both instances, an out-of-area scale for the UK, so he mentally calculated a conversion of about fifteen centimetres, and then his mind knew how far down he had to go.

Digging was the easy bit. Excavating the soil was more difficult, as it tended to fall back in at the slightest opportunity, even though it was not exactly dry. Some soils were simply more friable than others. Eventually Reg got to near the 15 centimetres level, and his trowel made a ‘thunk’ sound as it hit something hard.

He eased his trowel to the sides, trying to determine the extent of this metallic chunk. He found it was not very large, ten centimetres or so was his estimate, but he remembered there was a second detector ‘hit’, so looked to see in what direction the other large result lay. Now he dug a trench towards the second object until he heard another ‘thunk’. Excavating the top of this object, the shape of its curve suggested it was of similar dimensions.

Having established the positions of the two items, he recalled the Finds Officer’s injunction to get a GPS fix, so he stopped digging, and used Frances’ phone to get a fix on first one object and then the second. It happened that the two were close enough that a single GPS fix covered both, and was probably the same as the original find.

Satisfied he had done the right thing, he dug around the two objects, piling the excavated soil to one side. They both appeared to be round objects like a ball or bowl, but the soil made it difficult to ascertain the truth. The ‘thunk’ might be a wooden or ceramic bowl instead of silver, so he wasn’t going to presume anything. Thinking that over, he decided that wood was unlikely, due to rotting, but pottery was distinctly possible, so a ceramic pot of silver and bronze coins, or a silver or bronze bowl? Either was possible.

Reg resorted to digging round the clumps and lifting out each clump in turn. He had brought back his plastic carrier bag from last time, but also had in his pockets a couple of string bags from the kitchen, which he thought might be useful for holding something with soil falling off it. The soil would fall through the holes, he conjectured, reducing the weight somewhat for carrying back from the field.

He pulled up each clump or concretion or whatever, and gathered a string bag around each, enabling him to lift them up by the handles. He then transferred the two clumps into the carrier bag. The string bags helped to reinforce the plastic bag, so it did not tear with the considerable weight of his finds.

His extensive effort with all of this meant that he did not have time for more searches in the field. That would have to wait for another day. In the meantime, he had to tell the farmer about his new finds, and report the GPS locations.

It was nearly an hour later before he got to his own home. There, he told his wives about his new finds, whatever they were. At least, with the silver setting on the detector, he surmised that they were primarily silver, but how much of a concretion lump was silver? Was there a percentage that would cause the detector to react? He recalled that for the coroner, any metal object had to have some minimum percentage of silver or gold to qualify as treasure. That was another matter entirely, and pure conjecture for him at the moment.

Frances again lambasted him about leaving his finds with the farmer. He explained his reasoning to her.

“I want to have a good relationship with him in the future. He clearly wants to become known as a responsible farmer with good connections to the finds authorities, so why would he do anything to jeapordise that?”

Frances commented, “Sometimes men with good intentions unknowingly do things that harm other people, Reg; or his wife or child may interfere with the find. It is best to protect yourself in advance, instead of waiting for a disaster to happen. What if someone did something harmful using his name or yours?”

“Okay, I see what you are getting at, my love. How about when I hand a find over to him, I also notify the Finds guy that I have done so, with a brief overview of the find or finds?”

“That is much more sensible, Reg. That would do. You are innately clever, but at times you forget that you are not in tune with the wicked ways of the world.”

“I am lucky that I have you and the girls to keep me on track, Frances. Thank you, my darling.”

“Lecture over, then. Just remember that other human beings are not always as straightforward as you, Reg.”

“I accept that. I will phone the Finds Liaison Officer tomorrow morning.”

“That reminds me: give me back my phone. It is about time we got you your own phone, and taught you how to use it. For example, you can’t truly get lost if you have your phone with you. Your phone can provide you with your GPS coordinates at any time, so you know where you are. If you fall in a field and break an ankle, you can summon help and tell them exactly where you are, giving your GPS coordinates.”

“Gosh. I had read a bit about smart phones, but that feature sounds damned useful. Can we afford one of these for me?”

“Of course, Reg. You need it. It reminds me of something my father once said to me when I was young; when I was always asking for things that my friends had. He said to me, “Frances, if it is something you NEED, you will get it, but if it is something you just WANT, then we will view it only as a ‘might get’. Fads are often not worth pursuing, no matter how popular they are with your friends at the time.”

Reg did as promised, and phoned the Finds Liaison Officer in the morning. Once he had introduced himself, the man said, “Oh, yes. You have a high-powered lawyer looking out for you, don’t you? Highly unusual, I must say.”

Reg admitted, “He happens to be my father-in-law, as I said, so no great shakes, really. He thought I needed legal representation, just to be on the safe side. I am sure that my farmer friend, who brought you the concretion, is quite reliable.”

“I think you are right on that. Did you get me the GPS coordinates?”

“Yes, sir. I have them right here.” He consulted the inscription on the palm of his hand, and read the numbers out. The officer made his notes, and said, “That is fine. My computer puts that fix inside the field where you found the concretion. Excellent indeed.”

“Actually, sir, my farmer friend is bringing in two more concretions that I found yesterday, only a metre or so away from the original one. The GPS fix is the same as before; the depth was about 15 centimetres. I didn’t see any sign of coins, despite the detector being set for silver objects. I think they may be silver bowls, if I am lucky.”

“Ah, on that point we have had some luck with your original concretion. It broke apart very readily, with chemical and detergent assistance, and it is a pile of silver coins. We do not have full identification for them yet, as they require a specialist to identify them, but they appear to be Roman, 2nd or 3rd century by my guess, and as such I have reported the find to the local coroner, as is required by law. If he declares them Treasure, which is likely, a national valuation committee will get a report on the find by relevant experts, and an appropriate valuation of the find.”

“Wow!” Reg was amazed. “Does that mean they are special in any way?”

“Well, certain coins are rarer than others, for example if the Roman emperor only reigned a couple of years, but often the condition of a coin is more important than its rarity, both from the point of view of museum collections and current monetary value.”

“Yes, I can understand the museums wanting coins in very good condition, so that they can show them to advantage. So if a new-found coin is in better condition than those a museum holds, they would want the new one; am I right?”

“Indeed so, if they have the finance. Some finds are sold in their entirety, as they have more historical interest as a collection, but that can be an expensive choice for a museum. At times, The British Museum will help the local museum with financing.

Once a find has been declared Treasure, the government can have it offered through the British Museum, to appropriate museums on your behalf, for purchase; or it may be returned to the finder if no museum is willing to, or able to, buy it.”

“So I may get some Roman coins back for myself?”

“If the concretion has multiple coins of the same era, then those in poorer condition may very well be returned to you, Mr Robertson.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a small collection to show to my friends at the university. Perhaps I might deposit them with the university for study purposes.”

“Quite an altruistic gesture, Mr. Robertson. Maybe you should wait to see what the valuation is, first. That may change your mind!”

“I shall take your advice on that, sir. I may also read up on the Treasure Act, 1996.”

“You may find it a trifle boring ... but as a student ... perhaps not. What are you studying, Mr Robertson?”

“Liberal Arts and Sciences, sir. My first year. It has been quite interesting in developing some of my talents, opening my eyes to possible futures for myself and my ... wife.”

“You are married already, young man?”

“Fortunately, sir. I was taken over by a fellow student, and we found ourselves in like minds about the future. She is quite a girl, sir, and we plan spending our lives together.”

“A good method of approaching your future life, I agree. Any target on your horizon?”

“Possibly a management post in a company. My father-in-law has offered us trainee posts in his company, once we graduate.”

“He must have a high regard for you, to offer posts at such an early stage in your studies.”

“Excessively high, in my opinion, sir. I was new to university life, and his daughter was instrumental in steering me in the right directions for coping with people. My course is helping me to see what leadership skills I might be able to learn for future use. What course did you take, sir? I am presuming you are a graduate?”

“I am. I studied archaeology, thus my suitability for the work I am doing here. Why do you ask?”

Reg shyly said, “I have learned not to presume what talents a person might have, on simply meeting them. My farmer friend, who brought in my finds, turns out to be a geology graduate, which you might not suspect in a farmer. Family circumstances brought him to his present work, it seems. One day I met a public librarian who had a degree in zoology. That degree failed to find him a job in his preferred field, so he took up librarianship, where he decided he had a better chance of employment. He was correct at that time. Today, perhaps not.

This is what I am learning as I go along, sir.

Treat people as worthwhile, and nine times out of ten, you will get a similar response from them, and you may find they are more interesting than first appears.”

The other gave a short laugh. “Unfortunately there is the other side of the coin, Mr Robertson. Many of the people who turn up at my office are purely and simply wanting to know how much money they could make from their finds. To them, the word Treasure means cash, and the historical aspects of their find sweeps over them like a passing wave, leaving nothing of interest behind.

The only reason they don’t just run off with their finds is that, if caught not declaring their find, they could be severely punished. It is often the dealer they approach that turns them in, as he gets favourable treatment by the authorities as a result. Three months jail or a £5,000 fine are possible, so most finders stick to the legal route: it is safer.”

Reg noticed Frances hand-signalling to him, so he swiftly concluded his call and asked her, “What is it, Frances?”

“You were using my phone, and the twins were trying to call me. They tried the other girls, and got Erika, telling her for me to phone them. I need my phone back now, to do so.”

“Oh, sorry about that, my love. Here you are, Frances.”

He handed over the phone, and she dialled the number she had in it for the twins’ mobile.

“Hi, girls. Sorry you couldn’t get me. Reg was hogging my phone.”

She listened to what the girls had to say, then told them, “That sounds okay, Carol. Get Daddy to arrange your transportation to here.”

Closing the call, she told Reg, “That was the twins. Their four-day induction has turned into two. It seems that the final two days were devoted to the relevant departments where the new staff would be working – finance, administration, technical. As they don’t fit into any of these, they have finished early and will spend the time at this building, getting to know the place and their tasks in detail. They can therefore arrive tomorrow.

I have told them that suits us. They say they want to do an inventory of our cooking equipment and supplies, and see about filling gaps. They also need to draw up a schedule for cleaning, maintenance and repairs. They obviously picked up some helpful knowledge in their induction course, about how to work efficiently.”

“Gosh, that sounds impressive, Frances. The twins are going to be a tremendous asset to the family, by the sound of things. What do we need to do in advance?”

“Mainly, prepare their room or rooms for them. Do you think, being twins, they will want to share a room, or each have their own?”

“Never having dealt with twins before, Frances, love, I am at a loss to answer you. Why not phone them and ask their preference? Occam’s razor, eh?”

“That sounds the simplest solution, Reg.”

She got back on the phone and asked the question. It turned out longer than she expected, with Frances saying something at times. She had blushed at first, and then became more insistent before she put the phone down. Reg was intrigued, and asked what had happened.

“At first, they asked for separate rooms, then changed their minds, and then back again. I got confused, and said so. I wanted to know what was going on with them, and they admitted they were thinking of you. They were unsure if they wanted you to take them singly or together.”