Chapter 10: Poolside Party

The DVD that Freddie was watching in the lounge of his villa was proving useful from a number of perspectives. Freddie had thought it would be helpful but it had also proved both informative and entertaining. "The Spartan Women" was a documentary that Bethany had done after a series of excavations a year or two before and Freddie had learned a few things from it.

The main thing he had learned was that Bethany, whatever her academic qualifications, was an accomplished flirt as far as the camera was concerned. The video had opened with her sitting on a hill over looking the modern city of Sparta. The camera had zoomed in as she explained how women had played an essential role in the development of Spartan society. Her hair was loose, its auburn highlights picked out by the sunshine. The top she was wearing, light cotton in a vibrant purple, hung seductively askew to bare all of her right shoulder. The shot had been lit carefully. With all Freddie's years of experience he couldn't be sure if her top had revealed a glimpse of nipple as it stretched across her breasts or whether it was a convenient (or inconvenient) shadow. He still wasn't sure after re-running the scene several times.

It was all very different from the archaeologists that had been on TV in his youth, Freddie thought. Then, the main qualification seemed to be a bristling moustache and a military bearing. Now you needed nipples or the jolly bonhomie of the bloke next door.

As the programme continued, she dropped her eyes coyly as she mentioned some of the sexual practices that had supposedly accompanied a young girl's coming of age but looked straight into the camera as she concluded the point she was making. She brushed an errant strand of hair away from her face as the shot dissolved into one of the Bodleian library in Oxford. Bethany appeared wearing a sober grey suit with a dramatic flash of colour from a bright green neck scarf. She went on to explain how translations of many of the Greek classics handed down to us in libraries such has this had given a distorted view of the contribution that Spartan women had made.

Freddie looked at the clock. It was coming up to five o'clock. He'd enjoyed watching Bethany but now he was going to have the opportunity to meet the real thing again. He'd invited the girls up for a drink after their day's digging. "Come and use the pool," he'd said. "Wash some of the dust off."

They had been happy to accept. He'd been pleased. He'd decided what to do next and he needed to make sure that the girls weren't about to do anything that would change his plans.

Bethany and the others all arrived together about 15 minutes later. Freddie had put out some wine and beer. Bethany sank down gratefully into one of Freddie's pool side chairs and tossed her leather satchel to one side. The others were busily pulling on swimming costumes under carefully managed towels, encouraged by the prospect of the clear, cool, water in Freddie's pool.

Freddie picked up a bottle of wine and offered it to Bethany. She nodded. "Oh, yes please," she said. "It's been a busy day."

"Productive?"

"Oh yes," Bethany smiled. "Definitely. But we've all been hard at it."

Freddie poured a glass for Bethany and one for himself too. He lounged back in his own chair as Danni and Helen showered themselves off beside the pool and dived in. Judy and Stacey weren't far behind. Bethany's face was streaked with dust and sweat but she was evidently happy. She was wearing a cream shirt and the same dusty khaki shorts that she had on when Freddie had first seen her standing in the sea. She took the wine in one hand while unfastening her shirt with the other. Mistaking Freddie's look of interest for one of shock, she apologised. "Don't look so worried," she said, "I've got my swimming things on too!"

"I expected no less," said Freddie gallantly but, nonetheless, disappointed.

She shrugged her shirt back and took a sip of the wine. "Mmmm," she said. "That was needed and it has been definitely earned."

"So," said Freddie taking a drink himself. "More successes?"

"Yes," said Bethany firmly. "When Norah gets the TV folk over we'll really have something to show them. It all goes to show that you never do know what's under your feet."

No, thought Freddie, I guess you don't. He considered the fact that what was under Bethany's feet right now, in one of his hidden cages was the helpless Norah. It probably wasn't the time to tell her. Instead he said, "Anything a layman like me would understand?"

"Well, there's this," she reached into her satchel and pulled out a small plastic box. As she opened the lid, Freddie could see a layer of paper inside. She pulled it back and Clegg saw the glint of a piece of buttery, yellow gold. She held it out towards him.

"May I?" he said.

"Yes of course. Be careful though. That ring is over two and half thousand years old."

"It looks as good as new," Freddie said examining it closely. "Like it was made yesterday."

"That's the wonderful thing abut gold," Bethany said. "Unlike the rest of us it never shows its age."

"But it's that old?"

"Yes. It was in a small pit that had been cut down into the Mycenaean levels. It's much later than the clay tablets we found. But it's interesting given our suppositions about the site. Do you see the design on it?"

Clegg peered at the dark stone that was set in the ring. It did indeed have a carving but he couldn't really make out what it was supposed to be. "Yes," he said, "but if you told me it was a portrait of Helen herself I'd have to believe you."