The Buried Circle (63 page)

Authors: Jenni Mills

Tags: #Fiction, #Suspense

BOOK: The Buried Circle

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In the present-day story, I have taken considerable liberties with the National Trust’s organization at Avebury. The job of property administrator, as described in the novel, is not one that exists–the entirely fictional Michael is doing the work of several people. He and Graham are not based on any of those who manage Avebury in the real world, nor will you find Corey working in the caf; though you may spot the curator peering at small fragments of Neolithic pot.

Keiller re-erected just over half the stone circle, but most of the ground within the henge remains unexcavated. Every so often there are rumours that someone is planning to put up another stone, but so far it has not happened. But the night of the 22 June 2006 was one of the rare occasions when noctilucent cloud was visible in Wiltshire. Tolemac has recently been cut down and replanted, so looks very different from the woodland described in the novel, and the Goddess, in the form of the tinsel-wigged shop dummy, had sadly been removed from the Swallowhead springs last time I looked. Nothing ever stays quite the same at Avebury. As for the erratic way in which mobile phones pick up a signal in and around the circle, go and see for yourself. It’s a godsend for a novelist, but a mild irritation if you happen to be staying there.

So many people gave me help with the book that I am bound to forget some, and a few asked me not to mention their names. Thank you to all, and forgive me if I have misunderstood, or over-embellished, anything we discussed: responsibility for any inaccuracies or mistakes lies firmly at my door. Much of the background for this book came out of the research I had already done on the Avebury TV programme, with the help of Nigel Clark. We interviewed people who grew up in Avebury during the 1930s, including Josie Ovens, the Rawlins brothers (whose father ran the local garage and provided electric power to the village), Heather Peak-Garland, and her sister the late Jane Lees. But I would most particularly like to thank Ros Cleal, the curator of the Alexander Keiller Museum, and her colleagues at the National Trust in Avebury. They put up with my many visits to the Keiller Archive there, and generously shared their experiences of working at the World Heritage Site, as well as their chocolate biscuits. I enjoyed many enlightening conversations on such diverse matters as the sexual dimorphism of aurochs, the law pertaining to the excavation of badger setts, and the politics of keeping human skeletons in museums. Again, everything I have right is down to them, whereas everything wrong (sometimes deliberately so) is my fault alone.

They found me volunteer work so that I could experience at first hand bumping along muddy tracks in a National Trust Land Rover with head estate warden Hilary Makins, and clearing about three hundred spent tea-lights and a muddy ground sheet from the West Kennet Long Barrow. (What
do
people get up to there?) I checked the first-aid kits, sat at the till in the Barn Museum with Chris Penney, and worked behind the counter at the caf, so that I can now make a mean cappuccino. Terry the Druid Keeper of the Stones allowed me to join a ceremony to celebrate Imbolc in the Circle, at which he and Gordon Rimes gave me a glimpse of Druid and Wiccan beliefs. The following year I rose excruciatingly early to drive to Avebury for summer solstice sunrise, only to find there was nowhere within miles of the village to park, and no sun. In the strange way that life has of imitating fiction, I picked up my first Neolithic arrowhead, and saw my first hare in the wild, while walking near the village shortly
after
I had written both experiences into the novel. I stayed twice at Fishlocks Cottage, and once at Teachers Cottage, in order to soak up the atmosphere of Avebury after hours, when most of the visitors have gone home. It is truly magical to sit with a glass of wine in the garden at Fishlocks, watching a September sunset and dodging bats on their way to cruise the ditches.

Thanks to the Alexander Keiller Museum at Avebury for permission to quote from Keiller’s letters. (The only fictional quote is the letter of condolence to Frannie.) For further reading on Keiller, I’d recommend
A Zest for Life
, Lynda J. Murray’s biography. For the archaeology of Avebury and Neolithic/Bronze Age monuments, Josh Pollard’s
Avebury
was immensely useful, as well as Mike Pitts’s
Hengeworld
, and Aubrey Burl’s
Prehistoric Avebury
. Brian Edwards has written a number of papers on the social history of the village, and Marjorie Rawlins’s memoir,
Butcher, Baker, Saddlemaker
, provided details of life in Avebury in the early part of the twentieth century. On pagan belief, historian Ronald Hutton is the author of many erudite books, including
The Triumph of the Moon
. I also found helpful
The Way of the Shaman
by Michael Harner, and
Pagan Paths
by Pete Jennings. Andy Worthington’s
Stonehenge: Celebration and Subversion
is a fascinating account of the background to the free festivals of the 1970s and 1980s. I did have a few moments myself in the seventies, but for what it was like to be there in the eighties, Bee D avies was very helpful. The autobiographies of two Second World War night-fighter navigators, Lewis Brandon and Jimmy Rawnsley, provided background for Davey’s experiences in the RAF.

My father, Robert Mills, was an RAF navigator, and during the war drove a Baby Austin with a sheet of steel welded to the roof. My mother, Sheila Mills, spent the war years working in the almoner’s office of a large hospital, and, during our last conversations, she provided many details of daily life in the 1930s and 1940s. This book was written during a dark and unhappy period for me, as it was conceived at the time of her long illness and eventual death. I miss her immensely, but hear echoes of her voice sometimes in Frannie’s, different as their backgrounds and experiences were.

At HarperCollins, Clare Smith and Essie Cousins were patient and inspiring editors. Thanks also to Hazel Orme, whose sharp eye for misplaced commas and anachronisms saved me from several gaffes.

My agent, Judith Murray, made helpful suggestions and kept me going when things seemed bleak. As usual, thanks to friends for bearing with me, and especially to my brother Peter, and his wife, Lynne, for their love and support. Thanks also to my nephew Rob, for his interesting suggestion that I should call the book ‘Dead Man Lying in the Stone Circle’. Honestly, Rob, it would have pushed most of the buttons if only it fitted on the cover.

Bristol and Avebury, Autumn 2008

Also by Jenni Mills

Crow Stone

HarperPress
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First published by HarperPress in 2009
1

Jenni Mills asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

The Author and the Publishers are committed to respecting the intellectual property rights of others and have made all reasonable efforts to trace the copyright owners of the poems/copyright materials reproduced, and to provide an appropriate acknowledgement in the book.

In the event that any of the untraceable copyright owners come forward after the publication of this book, the Author and the Publishers will use all reasonable endeavours to rectify the position accordingly.

HB ISBN 978-0-00-725122-3

TPB ISBN 978-0-00-729267-7

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