Indiana Bones

Several Years Earlier
When Aisha Ghatak was just very small, her father would tell her the most fantastic stories. Dr Satnam Ghatak was an internationally known respected archaeologist. The and hugely stories he told were made up from the many myths, legends and fables he’d gathered on his numerous gladventures.
Every evening, when it was time for bed, his stories would make Aisha’s big brown eyes widen and her mouth pop
open with amazement. It helped, of course, that Dr Ghatak was a fine storyteller. He was naturally funny and wonderful with swords words.
When Dr Ghatak told stories, his eyes came alive and would twinkle so much, Aisha was sure she could see light from within her father, flickering and dancing on the dark wall next to her bed. He would tell of volcanoes erupting and gobbling up whole islands, forcing them under the sea. He wove yarns about entire cities of gold being swallowed by jungle, only to be rediscovered thousands of years later; of uncovering ancient libraries full of thousand-year-old books; and of marketplaces and merchants, and the skeletons of princes and paupers, and everything in between.
Aisha loved to listen to her dad as she lay in bed with her beloved dog curled up at her feet. Indiana was a rescue dog that Dr Ghatak had adopted several years earlier, during a particularly soggy trip. His name was Indiana Bones, which suited him very well.
The story Aisha loved the most was NOT made up it was one that Dr Ghatak swore was ONE HUNDRED PER CENT TRUE. It was the most important story in their house and one that Aisha had promised she would never repeat to another soul. Dr Ghatak was insistent that this story was as real as the fingers on his hand, and Aisha knew that it was true because she had proof.
Dr Ghatak would always begin the same way…
‘Did I ever tell you about my greatest archaeological find?’ he would ask.
‘No!’ she would have to reply if she wanted the story to continue.
‘I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday,’ her father said softly. ‘We were camping on Orkney, a group of islands off the far northern coast of Scotland. My colleagues and I were working on an archaeological dig at Skara Brae, and the weather had been frightful for weeks.