It is not large, not grand, and easy to overlook entirely. Yet this modest block, barely three-quarters of a metre tall and less than a quarter of a metre across at its narrowest, carries on its face a finely worked cross that speaks to a level of craft entirely out of proportion with the stone's modest dimensions. What makes it quietly arresting is that combination of smallness and delicacy: a funerary object made with obvious care for someone whose identity has been entirely lost to time.

The slab sits within the remains of an Augustinian nunnery, a house of religious women following the Rule of St Augustine, founded in the thirteenth century at Oldabbey. The antiquarian Thomas Johnson Westropp recorded it carefully, his description appearing in a 1904 publication by Wardell. Westropp noted the stone as 'a curious little tombstone,' a solid block adorned with 'a delicately incised Latin cross with round bosses and concave curves at the intersection of the arms.' That cross design, incorporating a fleur-de-lys motif, was a decorative form with Continental associations, used widely across medieval ecclesiastical stonework. The round bosses at the crossing point, where the arms of the cross meet, and the concave curves pulling inward at that same junction, give the composition an almost jewel-like quality when seen up close. Westropp also produced a drawing of the slab in 1902, which survives as part of the documentary record.

The site itself, recorded under the Sites and Monuments Record reference LI019-026009-, is the kind of place that rewards a slow visit rather than a quick one. The nunnery ruins are roofless and open to the elements, so the slab is exposed to weathering, and the incised lines that Westropp found so fine may require a raking light, ideally in low morning or evening sun, to read clearly. Visitors should look for the stone propped against the north wall of the church, and take time with it: the details are small, and the surface needs attention before it gives much up.