Gaius!’
Ruso released his hold on Lucius’ throat.
‘Polla!’ exclaimed Lucius as the brothers hastily pushed apart.
‘Papa, stop fighting,’ ordered Polla in the brisk tone she used with her younger brothers. ‘Little Lucius is up the pergola and he can’t get down, and Publius is shaking it.’
A smaller figure appeared from behind her skirt and cried, ‘Aah!’
Lucius wiped the thin strands of badly rinsed hair out of his eyes. ‘Where’s your mother?’
‘She’s busy. Papa, your nose is bleeding.’
‘Aah!’
‘Tell Publius I said to stop,’ said Lucius, wiping his upper lip and then glancing at his fingers before washing them in the bath water. ‘Then go and call Galla to put them to bed.’
‘Galla isn’t allowed to look after us.’
Ruso tucked a guiltily bloodstained fist behind his back and offered, ‘Ask Tilla.’
Polla shook her head. ‘I don’t know where she is. The laundry girl is there but the boys don’t take any notice of her. Papa, why is there black stuff on your head?’
Lucius uttered a word not commonly used in the presence of children and rose from the bath. ‘Tell them I’m coming.’ He swore again when he realized the towels had been on the floor when the water slopped over the side. He wiped his head with a sodden towel, then flung it aside and strode naked towards the door, muttering, ‘I can’t stand much more of this. Where the hell is she now? What’s the matter with this family?’
36
Ruso stretched out on his bed, closed his eyes and savoured these few moments of privacy. One of the things he had forgotten about family life was that a man could never be alone. Of course he was rarely alone in the Army, either, but there he frequently found himself in the company of men who were not expected to speak to him unless spoken to, so that despite their presence he could occupy himself with his own thoughts. In a household — at least, one as ill-disciplined as this — anyone felt free to accost and interrupt him at any time. Even the study was not safe now that he knew Arria had her own key. It was a sorry state of affairs when a man had to hide in his own bedroom on a warm evening with the shutters closed and a stick wedged in the door-latch just to get some peace and quiet.
He had spoken firmly with Arria, agreed that his sisters deserved to be confined to their room until morning and insisted that Galla must be allowed back into the house. He had also reminded her that Tilla was not a servant and would be dining with the family this evening. He had then gone down to the winery to convey this message, only to find both Tilla and Galla already eating at the long table set up in the yard for the farm slaves and sharing a joke with Cass, who was busy supervising the feeding of the staff while her children ran wild in the care of the laundrymaid.
No, Tilla assured him as he drew her aside, she did not do these things just to embarrass him. Why was she sitting outside the bunkhouse eating stew? ‘Because I am hungry after all that work.’
‘But you’re supposed to be dining with the family!’
‘You said that last night, but then that man is dead and the stepmother says there is no dinner.’
Ruso stared at her. ‘She meant the dinner with the neighbour was cancelled. I know there was a lot of rushing about, but there was food in the kitchen.’
Tilla shrugged. ‘Nobody tells me.’
He said, ‘Why didn’t you ask?’
‘She says there is no dinner, why bother to ask?’
‘Of course there was food, Tilla. You’re a guest. You should expect to be fed. It’s bad enough dealing with my family without you being deliberately obtuse.’
‘Being what?’
‘Never mind. Finish your dinner here. And don’t do this again tomorrow.’
‘Galla has invited me to meet her family tomorrow evening.’
Before he could object, she added, ‘Cass has said she can go.’
No doubt Tilla would enjoy the company of a slave’s relatives far more than that of his own. Ruso, who had not even been aware that Galla had a family, said, ‘The evening after, then.’
‘Yes.’
He went back to the table to inform Galla that her banishment from the house was over: she was to return to her duties as soon as she had finished her meal.
Galla was clearly delighted. ‘It is an answer to prayer, my lord.’
‘Good,’ growled Ruso. ‘It’s not often I’ve been the answer to anyone’s prayers lately.’
As he limped back towards the house he found Cass beside him, carrying a basket of eggs. At last, a chance to talk. He was about to broach the subject of Severus’ death when she said, ‘It was kind of Tilla to go and work with Galla in the winery.’
Ruso tried to remember if he had ever heard Tilla described as kind before. The word had never occurred to him. Perhaps he had been too hard on her.
Cass stepped ahead of him and shooed a hen away before pushing open the gate between the farmyard and the garden. ‘How’s your foot now?’
‘About the same. Cass, I need to talk to you about yesterday.’
‘Well, you haven’t really had a chance to rest it, have you? Poor Gaius. It hasn’t been much of a homecoming for you. What a shame.’
Ruso gave an embarrassed shrug and mumbled something about it not mattering. Indeed, until this moment, it had not struck him that nobody had bothered to thank him for coming home. Now he was about to repay Cass’s thoughtfulness by questioning her as part of a murder investigation.
‘Dear me,’ she observed before he could open his mouth, ‘that sage is looking very squashed. I hope it wasn’t the children.’
Ruso followed her gaze to the battered flowerbed at the foot of the pergola and said, ‘Cass, I need to know exactly what happened when Severus came here.’
‘We haven’t made Tilla very welcome either, have we? I hear Arria has plans for you and Lollia Saturnina instead.’
‘Arria has plans for lots of things.’
‘Lollia Saturnina is a very nice woman, Gaius. But I don’t think she’s looking for a husband.’
Following his sister-in-law up the porch steps, he said, ‘I doubt anyone’s looking to marry a suspected poisoner.’
Cass giggled. ‘Oh, Gaius. Anyone who knows you knows that you couldn’t possibly have done a thing like that.’ They crossed the hall, and she paused with her hand on the latch of the children’s room. ‘Come in and say goodnight to them,’ she urged. ‘Then we can talk.’
They were greeted by the sight of a naked Little Gaius beaming at them from his pot. Around him was an array of beds that were all empty except the one from which the laundrymaid had just sprung up, patting her bedraggled hair back into place. Apparently Master Lucius had taken the other children to the kitchen in search of supper.
Cass dismissed the maid, inspected the contents of the pot and informed their producer that he was a very good boy. ‘Isn’t he a good boy, Uncle Gaius? Stand up, baby, and let’s give you a nice wash.’
‘He’s a fine little chap,’ observed Ruso, noting with approval that all of his namesake’s parts were in the right places and wondering if one ever got to the end of a conversation once one was blessed with children. ‘Cass, I need to — ’
‘But he doesn’t talk yet,’ replied his mother, pursuing the toddler across the room and deftly manoeuvring a tunic over his head before he could escape. ‘All the others did. Do you think we should do something?’
‘I don’t know much about children, to be honest,’ said Ruso. ‘He looks healthy enough.’ Judging by the all- over tan, young Gaius took frequent exercise in the fresh air, as unencumbered by clothes as any Greek athlete. ‘His
