Roman Gold Day

My mobile went ‘ping’ as I lay motionless on the pillow that morning. I grabbed it and strained to read through bleary eyes the words “It’s raining here.

” I replied “So?” and turned to look out of my own bedroom window to see angular rain exploding on the glass in a synchronised droplet formation. I thought, “Well that’s just typical.”

October always seems so reliable in its wetness, but thorough in its beauty as the leaves start to turn. ‘Ping’ went the phone again. My friend Steve had sent me a screenshot of the weather forecast for the day, which quite obviously was an attempt to deter me from raising my heavy head and leaving my surroundings.

I replied, “If you think that’s going to stop me going to our first private permission again, you’re wrong mister.” We’d worked hard driving around together the week before looking for a possible field to detect. So finally when this man had opened his front door and was so nice to us, it was like winning the lottery.

We were both so desperate to find somewhere to search. Even when he said “Of course you can boys, but hundreds have been in there over the last 20 years or so already,” it didn’t put us off. We finally had somewhere to go.

I got up and had a cup of tea, trying to pretend those raindrops weren’t still hitting the window, but they were. I was caught up in mixed thoughts of “So what? My detector is submersible,” and “Will I damage this man’s field in this awful weather?” Excitement overruled and I slowly started to sort out my stuff ready for another adventure. Enthusisasm was building up as Steve had found his first ever hammered silver coin (a Commonwealth penny) there the day before. I was a bit upset not being there to share it with him, but nonetheless very happy for him as he’d got me into this amazing hobby in the first place.