Trowel in hand Felix bends down over the charcoal. It’s dark down here. Orange-filtered head torches are the chosen form of illumination; more authentic at replicating the flickering firelight of old and less harmful than arc lights for the delicate surfaces of excavated artefacts.

“Enough! Eight hours running! We’re off for a jar. You coming?”

“No, must dust Him off first. Catch you later”