Enveloped in the warmth of a golden Saturday afternoon, Andy lay back on soft green turf. Beside him on the gently sloping incline, Adam appeared to be dozing, his breathing slow and peaceful. Turning over onto his front, Andy propped himself up on both elbows and once again examined the three ruined, mediaeval stone arches which formed a focal point on the crest of the rise. Ripped out of an about-to-be-demolished church in the mid-eighteenth century, the local landowner made the arches into a