“Some people,” said Alison, rather loudly, to Snobby, “obviously do not understand the purpose of a historical dig. We are hoping to uncover important artefacts whose rightful place will be in the British Museum.”
There was a silence.
“Historical what?” said Hake-face.
“Artichokes, or something.” The red-head was already down on her knees, tunnelling furiously with a trowel and a hand fork. “Don’t take any notice of her, she’s batty.”
Alison breathed, deeply. “Objects that we uncover will not belong to us. They’ll belong to the Crown.”
“Who says?”
“I do!”
“And who are you when you’re at home?”
“I am in charge of this dig,” said Alison.
“Yeah, and I’m a blue banana!” The red-head was scattering earth in all directions.
A flying gobbet hit Harriet in the eye. Stinky looked at her, helplessly. The dig had only just begun and already it was out of control!
Slowly, and with great dignity, Harriet rose to her feet.
“This garden is Stinky’s garden and whatever anyone finds belongs to Stinky. But–” she said it hastily, before the red-head could start throwing more earth at her – “Stinky has very generously decided that whatever anyone finds he’s going to let them keep.”
“That’s not the law!” shouted Alison.
“It is in this garden,” said Harriet.
By lunch time the hole was really beginning to look like a hole. Several people had dug up old pennies, Hake-face had found an interesting stone which he thought might be a fossil and Wendy had uncovered a house brick.
There had been great excitement over the house brick. Alison and Snobby had gone rushing over with their dustpan and brush, screaming at Wendy not to touch it in case it might be an ancient remain. They now thought that probably it wasn’t, but it had given them all fresh hope and the determination to carry on.
“After all, we haven’t really found anything yet,” said the red-haired girl. “I don’t call a few old pennies buried treasure. And I don’t call a mouldy old house brick ancient remains, either.”
“Remain,” said Stinky, feebly.
The girl tossed her head. “Yes,” she said, “I’m going to, and I’d just better find something!”
“You mean you’re not going home for lunch?” said Harriet.
“I’m going to stay right here,” said Red-head, “and dig till I find something. And if I don’t –”
If she didn’t, there would be trouble.
“Now what are we going to do?” whispered Stinky. They could hardly bury the Ancient Tin in full view of Red-head. “I knew this was a rotten idea!”
“You’re crazy,” said Harriet. “It’s one of the best ideas I’ve ever had.”
By the end of the afternoon the hole was going to be plenty big enough to stand up in. Tomorrow they could put down their lino and buy their plastic sheeting, and by the weekend they could take up residence. Mum could complain all she liked about Harriet’s bedroom being a pigsty. Stinky’s mum could praise Goody-goody Giles to the skies. Harriet and Stinky would be tucked away in their underground home!
“She’ll get really ratty,” worried Stinky, “if she doesn’t find anything.”
“Think I care?” said Harriet.
“Just better be something,” muttered Red-head.
Fortunately, there was. Alison found a piece of pottery which she was convinced was Roman, Hake-face dug up another fossil and someone else found an interesting-looking bone which was almost certainly prehistoric.
“Dinosaur or something, I shouldn’t be surprised.”
At the last minute, while everyone was busy admiring the prehistoric dinosaur bone, Harriet managed to bury the Ancient Tin. Stinky waited anxiously for Red-head to uncover it. Would an Ancient Tin satisfy her? Or would she throw a tantrum and say it came from Sainsbury’s?
“Hey!” Red-head sat back triumphantly on her heels. “Look what I’ve got!”
Everyone turned to look. It wasn’t the Ancient Tin, but a small blue bottle with a glass stopper.
“That has to be ancient,” said Harriet. “That is a really good find.”
“Mm … it’s all right, I suppose.” Red-head, even now, tended to be grudging. “I don’t expect it’s worth much, but it’s quite pretty.” She held it up to the light. “I could always give it to my mum.”
“What a nice idea,” gushed Harriet.
“On the other hand,” said Red-head, “I might decide to sell it. I might get given a fortune for it.”
As they all trooped off carrying their bits of Roman pottery and prehistoric bones, Stinky said in worried tones, “You don’t think she will, do you?”
“Will what?”
“Get given a fortune. I mean,” said Stinky, “this is my garden. Everything in it’s mine by rights. You said so.”
“I said you’d very generously decided to let people keep whatever they dug up. Honestly,” said Harriet, “you’ve got your hole. What more do you want?”
Next day they laid their lino and bought their plastic sheeting. Harriet was still lost in wonderment at her own brilliance. Without her they would never have had a hole!
“All it takes is a bit of brain power,” she said.
That night, Stinky’s dad walked down the garden to tip some vegetable peelings on the compost heap and fell feet first into the hole.
The following day, he stood guard over Harriet and Stinky while they filled the hole in again.
By tea time, Harriet and Stinky ached in every bone in their bodies and the hole was no longer there.
Harriet’s mum had stopped her pocket money for the second week running and Goody-goody Giles was due to arrive first thing Sunday morning.
“You and your brilliant ideas,” said Stinky.
“I like that! Whose idea was it to dig a hole in the first place?”
“Yours,” said Stinky.
“Humph!” said Harriet.
Dragging herself wearily home, Harriet bumped into Red-head.
“Hey, you know that Ancient Remain?” said Red-head. “Guess what? My mum took it down the antique shop and they gave us fifteen pounds for it!”
Life, thought Harriet, could be very bitter at times.