Marilyn Todd - Sour Grapes

'And one certainly seems to know where to look,' she said sweetly.

One eyebrow twitched amused acknowledgement. 'Claudia, I think you and I should get together for-'

'Terrence!' A young woman with the same sandy-coloured hair and enormous round eyes came rushing up. 'Terrence, have you heard?'

'My sister,' he said, and though his smile never wavered, there was a distinct edge to his voice. 'Thalia, this is Claudia.'

'Oh.' Thalia's pale skin suffused in a rush of pink. 'I'm so sorry. How rude of me to barge in.' She curtsied in apology. 'Only Larentia didn't mention you'd be here — I mean, that's not to say she said you weren't welcome — I mean, of course you'd be, it's your house

…'

'That's a delightful pendant you're wearing,' Claudia gushed. Anything to put the poor girl out of her misery.

'You think so?' Far from lifting her spirits, Thalia's lower lip started to tremble. 'My husband bought it for me. I'm wearing it tonight because-'

'Her late husband,' Terrence corrected. 'Died of an apoplexy last year. Thalia, what was it you wanted to tell me?'

'Did I? Yes of course, I remember now.' Her eyes widened to saucers. 'Oh, Terrence, it's terrible. That body that washed up on your land the other day? I mean, you do remember that poor boy, don't you?'

'One does not easily forget bloated, fish-nibbled corpses beached on one's pastures. What about it?'

His testiness merely added to her awkwardness, and Thalia hopped from foot to foot as she wrung her skeletal hands. 'Well, it seems it wasn't Tages the shepherd, after all.' She turned to Claudia. 'Tages is the boy who went missing in that violent storm last weekend. He's old Etha's grandson, and she's raised him ever since his mother died giving birth-'

'Thalia, would you please come to the point.'

'Sorry.' She ran a nervous tongue round her lips. 'The thing is, Terrence, Etha was called to identify her grandson, only it wasn't Tages at all.'

'Thank you, we'd gathered that.'

Thalia shot Claudia a flustered smile and mouthed the word 'sorry' again. Claudia suspected it was a word she mouthed a lot.

'Anyway.' Thalia gulped. 'It was Rosenna who eventually identified the corpse as that of her brother, Lichas. Oh, Terrence, isn't this simply dreadful? I mean, those poor children in Mercurium. Where are they going to get toys from, now the toy-maker's dead? And who would do such a thing? He was such a nice boy, that Lichas. Who'd want to stab him like that?'

'I don't suppose anyone wants to stab anyone, Thalia. Look, why don't you go and tell all this to Eunice, there's a good girl? You know how she loves a good gossip.' He turned the full light of his attention back to Claudia. 'Where were we?' he asked smoothly.

'As I recall, you were on the point of explaining why you, rich, successful and not unattractive, were still unmarried in your mid-thirties.' Claudia shot him a radiant smile as she planted her goblet in his free hand. 'But Thalia saved you the trouble, because now I quite understand.'

Of all the improvements Larentia had made to the villa, the folding doors in the dining hall were the most impressive. Gaius Seferius had never underestimated the importance of entertaining clients in the growth of his business, and to that end had indulged the room with the same sumptuous marbles and exquisite mosaics that covered his townhouse in Rome. Indeed, it boasted the same overhead contraption to shower fragrant petals on to diners between courses. Those couches that weren't solid silver were of finely carved satinwood. The cushions were universally damask.

But for all its luxury, the hall at the villa could not compare to the spaciousness of its city equivalent, because at heart the villa remained a working farm. But by knocking out the exterior wall and replacing it with a concertina of woodwork, the room suddenly doubled in size as it spilled on to the terrace (perfect on warm late-spring evenings like this), bringing a sense of light and capaciousness to festivities that had been hitherto lacking.

Claudia speared a piece of crispy roast veal and concluded that Gaius might well have come up with such an idea in time, but his mother? The wife of a road builder who rarely left Tuscany? Larentia was parochial in outlook, parsimonious by nature, and since the hall wasn't used from one year to another now that her son lay in his grave, such expenditure would not have crossed her mind. Once again, Claudia wondered why Darius had bothered.

Watching him winkle a snail out of its garlicky shell, she did not accept Larentia's explanation that from friendship love had grown — at least, not on his part — and she wondered how cold a heart needed to be in order to string an old woman along. Her glance moved to Larentia, laughing (yes, laughing) with Terrence and Eunice on the opposite couch as she wolfed down fattened goose liver, stuffed partridge and suckling pig. She noted once again the radiant glow to Larentia's face, the artful way she'd applied cosmetics, the new interest in fashion and hair, and for only the second time in her life felt a pang of genuine sympathy for her mother-in-law.

'… three years old and drops dead in the harness. Pfft.' Larentia snapped her fingers. 'Just like that.'

'Donkeys are plentiful around these parts, darling.' Eunice patted her hand. 'I'm sure the miller will find a replacement without any trouble.'

'I'm sure he will,' Larentia retorted, 'but that's not the point. You know his brother's wife walked out on him the day before, don't you? Took the children to Rome to stay with her mother, and how's the poor man going to visit them there? I ask you, he's a smith. Smiths can't leave their forges. Mark my words, bad luck begets bad luck. Candace?'

The black sorceress looked over from where she was conversing with Thalia. 'Larentia?'

'Next time you're in town, would you cast a spell for that poor miller?'

'Poor is the word,' Candace drawled. 'In my experience, millers are unable to afford my protection.'

Who could, Claudia thought? The woman was dripping with gold tonight, in the form of bracelets, armbands, earrings and pendants, tiaras, brooches and anklets. When she moved, she sounded like a rat-catcher's bells.

'I'll pay,' Larentia said, before realizing that her pursestrings were tied by the person reclining on the couch opposite, and that that person was not leaping in with offers to finance a charlatan's whimsies.

'My treat,' Darius cut in swiftly.

Candace cast him a long, slow, feline look. 'I am not a performing pony,' she replied at length, straightening her serpent-shaped armband. 'I target every ounce of energy on Larentia, who knows only too well how walking with the spirits drains me.' An unusually chastened Larentia nodded as the sorceress leaned towards her. 'Do you really wish me to transfer those energies,' she asked quietly, 'and dilute the spells that protect you?'

'No, I don't, and it was stupid of me to ask. People have to take responsibility for their own lives,' Larentia announced. 'The miller should have picked a better ass.'

'So should his sister-in-law,' Eunice said, and everyone laughed.

But as the remnants of the main course were wheeled out and fruits and sweetmeats brought in, Claudia noticed once again the watchful look in Candace's eye, and how Darius managed to bunch his facial muscles into a smile when he chuckled, even though the expression inside was as hard as a stone.

'I think it's fair to say Rex isn't coming tonight,' Larentia sighed, 'although I think he could at least have had the decency to send a note of apology.'

Claudia sank her teeth into a juicy red cherry and wondered who the devil was Rex.

'Trust me,' Terrence said, 'if that man hasn't sent a message, he's simply running late.'

'I thought generals were supposed to be on time.'