'Over there,' Bridget flapped her hand toward a small hut that stood slightly apart from the rest. 'He's not in, though.' The women echoed her cackle.
Timber built with a solid roof and a simple brick chimney, Findhorn's hut was by far the best constructed in the whole ramshackle collection. Lorna put in the key Mrs Findhorn had given her and was surprised to find the door already open. She pushed in to see an immaculately tidy interior, with a fire, laid ready on the grate. There was also a sturdy chair behind the plank that acted as a desk and which was almost invisible behind a pile of papers held in place by a single rock paperweight.
Lorna sat on the chair and sifted through the papers: geological reports on the type of rock, costings for the work, reports of the amounts of dirt rem
