David Wishart - Sejanus

I almost turned round and went back to Celsus's house, but I didn't. I should've done; but by the time I realised that it was too late.

At least I knew where to go for information on Titius Sabinus. His nephew Columella was a regular customer at Scyllax's gym — what I still thought of as Scyllax's gym — over by the Racetrack, and he'd be there for sure the next day. There wasn't any point in going early, though. Columella held down a junior finance officer's job in the Department of Water and Roads, and he'd be busy in the mornings. Mid-afternoon I could be sure of catching him.

Besides, the next morning turned out too beautiful for work, and while we were back in Rome I owed Perilla some sort of holiday. I broached the idea over breakfast. Sallust Gardens.

She smiled over her cup of fruit juice. 'Separate litters, Corvinus?' she said.

Yeah. She'd got the reference, and the reason for the choice. Sallust Gardens in spring had special memories for us, especially one grotto in particular. It'd be nice to see that again, maybe even visit and press a few ferns. You never knew, something might catch.

'Not separate litters, lady.' I was grinning. 'Not this time. And wear your oldest mantle.'

'Marcus, I am not going to be seen in Sallust Gardens wearing an old mantle. Besides, I'm too old to go rolling about on the grass playing games. If that's what you had in mind.'

'So what's wrong with games suddenly?'

'Very well.' She stood up. 'But if we go we walk. Just walk. Along the paths, like any other respectably-married couple, enjoying the scenery.' I winced. Jupiter! 'And definitely no grottoes.'

'You sure about that?'

'I'm sure.'

'Hundred percent, cast-iron sure?'

'Yes.'

'Spoilsport.' Ah, well. Maybe she'd change her mind when we got there. I kissed her and went to tell Bathyllus to order up the litter.

Sallust Gardens are in the north of the city, between the Pincian and the Quirinal. They were beautiful at this time of year, and like I say they had memories. The good weather had pulled out a lot of punters, even more than usual, and the place was crowded. We walked around a bit like Perilla wanted. Then I bought some toasted melon seeds from one of the snack-sellers by the Faunus statue and we sat down on the grass to eat them.

'You remember what we talked about, Marcus?' Perilla licked the salt from her fingers. 'The last time we were here?'

'It's not the talking I remember,' I said.

'No.' She smiled and lowered her eyes. 'I do, though.'

'So tell me.'

'We talked about how this park happened. And about your father.'

'Ah. Yeah.' I remembered now; also that I'd been pretty concerned to get her off both subjects. Some things don't change.

'I think that was when I finally fell in love with you.'

'Is that right?' Gods! I shifted uncomfortably and looked up at the sun. Maybe we should be getting on.

‘You were so angry over things I took for granted because I'd never really thought about them. I'd never met that before. Someone who didn't fit and was ready to say so.'

'Yeah. Well.' I cleared my throat. 'Maybe I've grown up a bit since then.'

'Marcus, dear, you'll never grow up.'

'Hey, thanks! Thanks a bunch!'

She took my hand and put it round her shoulder. From a nearby bench a dowager with the face of a constipated camel glared at us. Perilla gave her her best smile and she turned away.

'That was an observation,' she said, 'not a criticism. Most certainly not a criticism. In fact if you ever did grow up — at least in the way I mean — I'd probably divorce you or take a lover out of boredom. Maybe even two lovers.'

'Uh…yeah.' Jupiter on wheels with a squeaker! What had brought this on? Was this Perilla? The trouble was I could see she was serious. Or half serious. 'Look, it's getting late. I've got to be over at the Racetrack. You feel like calling it a day?'

'In a moment. I may not ever have the nerve to say this again.' She leaned her head against my shoulder. 'I just wanted you to know that however much I complain I wouldn't really have you any different. Remember that, won't you? Oh, yes, it would be nice to have children' she put her finger against my opening mouth 'but they're not everything. Lots of couples are a lot less lucky than we are, and I can stand a little disappointment.'

I didn't say anything. There wasn't anything to say. Suddenly she shook herself and stood up.

'I'm sorry. This, to use one of your phrases, is getting heavy. Let's see if we can find our grotto, shall we?'

I couldn't swear to it, but I was almost sure she put out her tongue at old camel-face as we passed.

Daphnis had a sleek and prosperous look about him these days, but I didn't grudge him it: the erstwhile sand-pushing duckling had turned out to be a financial swan, and the gym was coining money for me hand over fist. I'd got someone else in on the practical side, of course — an ex-legionary with a limp and a whole sheaf of good-conduct certificates — but he was just another client, like anyone else's. There wasn't the rapport I'd had with Scylax, and there never would be.

'Hey, Daphnis,' I said, clapping him on the shoulder. 'How are things?'

I got the familiar long slow stare. Some things don't change. I doubt if he'd even noticed I'd been away.

'Not bad,' he said. 'You want to see Publius? He isn't in yet.'

Publius was the retired soldier, and his only vice was drink: now he'd got shot of army discipline he was making up for lost time. No doubt his long-suffering daughter would be walking him up and down the living-room floor to sober him up after last night's binge with the boys. He was a good trainer, though.

'Not particularly.' I sat on the corner of the desk. Daphnis sniffed and pointedly moved the half a dozen wax tablets he was working on out of the way. 'You know anything about a guy called Marius? Sextus Marius?'

That got me the stare again. 'Never heard of him,' Daphnis said at last, and picked up his pen. 'Now if you've quite finished messing up my desk…'

Gods! The same old Daphnis, friendly and helpful to a fault. I got up again quickly before he accidentally-on-purpose prodded me in the leg with the pen. Well, it'd been worth a try: Daphnis was Spanish himself, and they're a clannish lot. But then there are Spaniards and Spaniards, and Marius hadn't struck me as the sort to mix with ex-skivvies like the world's most cheerful freedman here.

'Columella around this afternoon?' I said after a pause.

'Sergius Columella?' Daphnis grunted with supreme disinterest. 'Sure. He came early. He's in the bath-house.'

Yeah. That'd explain why I hadn't seen him outside, banging away with the wooden foils and working up a sweat along with the other punters.

'The bath house,' I said. 'Right.'

'You know your way, don't you?'

Without waiting for an answer he turned back to his wax tablets. That, it would seem, was all I was getting of the great man's valuable time. I know when I'm not wanted. I gave him the finger and walked over to the bath-house.

I collected a towel from the slave at the door, checked my mantle and tunic in the changing rooms and went straight through to the cold room. A bath would've been great, but this was business and I couldn't afford to miss Sabinus's nephew. He was stretched out by the side of the cold plunge, having his post-bathing rub down.

'Corvinus!' He sat up. 'You back in Rome?'

'So it would seem.' I sat down beside him with my back to the wall. Columella was okay, but he was an acquaintance rather than a friend. And fortunately for my purposes what there was between his ears was solid bone. Jupiter knew how the Water and Roads department functioned at all if they had any more like him on the payroll. We were lucky we weren't all dead of thirst.