Hearts of Stone by Simon Scarrow Page B

of grime that made the already sun-bleached blue seem that much more faded. It had been an early purchase of the archaeological expedition when the flow of funds from the university had been more forthcoming. A thinly padded bench served as the seat for the driver and passenger, and sacking lay in the bed of the truck to cushion the loads carried back to Lefkada. Andreas handed Eleni into the back while Peter, as usual, went round to the front and slotted the starting handle into position. He took the grip in both hands and looked over the top of the radiator grille. Heinrich gave a nod and then Peter swung the handle round. It took three attempts before the engine choked into life. Heinrich gently revved it for a moment and then called out above the shrill rattle, ‘That’s it! In you get.’
    After he stowed the handle, Peter walked past the driver’s door.
    ‘Not sitting in here where there’s more shade? Gentler on the arse too.’
    Peter hesitated, wanting to travel with his friends.
    ‘Go on,’ said Eleni. ‘We can talk through the cab window.’
    ‘Yes,’ Andreas added. ‘Sit, in there.’
    Peter did as he was bid and walked round the front of the truck to take his place beside Heinrich in the tiny vibrating cab that smelt of petrol fumes and grease. As soon as the door was closed, Heinrich released the handbrake and thrust the stick into first gear. With a lurch the truck ground forward over the gravel track. Peter stuck his head out of the window to take one last look at the small valley where he had spent so much time over the last eighteen months, and then pine trees closed in on the track and cut off the view of the archaeological dig. Behind him he heard Andreas make a comment and Eleni laughed and the rest of the exchange was lost as Heinrich changed gear and accelerated up the slope. The still air of the valley was replaced with the warm rush through the open windows of the cab. Peter breathed in the familiar tang of pine and felt a brief moment of sorrow that he would not see the valley again for a long time. At least until the powers of Europe came to an understanding that allowed normal life to resume. It frustrated him that ordinary people like himself could get on well enough with those of other nations without rancour but those who held the reins of power found it so difficult to do the same.
    ‘What will you do when you get back to Berlin?’ Heinrich asked, breaking into his thoughts.
    Peter pushed the frames of his glasses up the bridge of his nose to fix them in place as the truck jolted along the track. He cleared his throat and spoke loudly.
    ‘Father has arranged a place for me at a gymnasium to finish my schooling.’
    ‘And afterwards?’
    ‘University. To study archaeology.’
    Heinrich laughed. ‘Follow in the old man’s footsteps, eh?’
    Peter winced at the disrespectful description of his father. ‘I suppose so.’
    Heinrich kept his eyes on the difficult route ahead of them, trying to steer carefully over the worst holes and bumps in the uneven track. ‘Do you like the idea?’
    Peter glanced at him. ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘You don’t have to study archaeology if you don’t want to. You could choose any subject. Or not. There are plenty of other things a man can do in Germany. Now that there’s a new government, a new future.’
    ‘Maybe, but I know what I want to study.’ There was a brief pause before he continued, ‘What about you? What will you do while the dig is delayed?’
    Heinrich shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I’ve got a thesis to finish. But I’m not sure if I’ll bother.’
    ‘Oh?’
    ‘I’ve had my fun here. But I’ve had enough of sweating under a hot sun, surrounded by rocks, dirt and scraps of pottery. At least for a while. I fancy some cool fresh air. I’ll be going to my family’s home in the mountains for a while. Do some skiing when winter comes. You like skiing?’
    ‘Never tried it.’
    ‘A shame. There’s no experience like it.