Marilyn Todd - I, Claudia

‘Talking of which, whatever happened to that old sea captain who used to fancy himself so much? Strutting around like a peacock-totally unaware we’d nicknamed him Bumface, poor bugger.’

‘And what about that Sicilian woman, eh? Remember her? Big as a barn door, used to drink the men under the table and fight ’em afterwards. We always called her Brutus!’

‘Not in her hearing, we didn’t!’

‘Too bleeding right, nobody dared.’

‘Except Shorty forgot that night, didn’t he?’ Claudia stepped back and made her legs go bandy and put on a high falsetto. ‘Poor old Shorty, he was walking and talking funny for a week!’

‘Aye, right in the nutmegs, she got him. Ooh, makes yer eyes water even after all this time.’

They were doubled up by the time the baker’s boy emerged from the shop with a tray of steaming loaves. Sobering instantly, Claudia spun round and covered her face with her pulla.

Damn you, Ligarius. You have no right to remind me of the old times, no right at all! She bit her lip. Those days were long past, she was perfectly content in the sanitized vacuum of her life today. Every day she woke in the morning knowing she could eat and drink till her belly was full, and sleep in a proper bed at night. She had clothes on her back, and damned fine ones at that. She could bathe every day, had slaves at her beck and call, wore jewels till she stooped from the weight if she wanted. And Claudia Seferius was quite prepared to take whatever steps were necessary to protect this precious existence.

The bearded giant had launched into another trip down Memory Lane, but she refused to listen. ‘Ligarius, you’re the only person in the whole of Rome who knows my past. I’m asking you-no, I’m begging you. Please don’t ruin it for me.’

His mouth dropped open. ‘I wouldn’t do that, Claudie. Never! Only,’ his mood also changed and a big, fat tear trickled slowly down his cheek, ‘you’re my only friend in the entire city.’

‘We’re hardly friends, Ligarius.’

‘Close enough.’ He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose with the back of his hand.

Juno, Jupiter and Mars! ‘How long since whatsername, Antonia, died?’

‘December.’

‘Tell you what, Liggy. I can’t stop now, but why don’t I come and visit you in the tavern? Perhaps early one morning, before you open? We could have a quiet little chat?’

‘I’d like that, because well, you know how I’ve always felt about you.’

Sentimental claptrap, of course, and without Antonia to whip him into line, he’d gone soft again. Why is it people always look back and see only the good times? She turned on her heel and marched back to the house. With any luck, the packing would be finished by now, and wouldn’t Gaius be happy to have her at the villa five days ahead of schedule? Damn that slimeball Lucan for diddling her out of the fun of the games!

It was only when she was changing her stola that Claudia realized she’d forgotten to ask the whereabouts of Liggy’s tavern. No matter. When she blurted out her offer to call it was genuine, though in the cold light of day she realized it was folly to even think about it. Oh, he’d get over it. Hell, he might not even remember it, because she had a suspicion he’d been drinking his profits of late. The main thing was, his loyalty was firm, he wouldn’t give her away. Of course, it had come as a real shock, seeing him at the games-and his shadowing of her this afternoon didn’t bear thinking about. But no, she was satisfied Ligarius wouldn’t spoil it for her. Unless… Unless…

‘Your cousin to see you, madam.’

‘Melissa, how many times do I have to tell you, girl? They’re Gaius’s cousins-’

‘No, madam. Your cousin, he said. Marcus Cornelius Orbilio.’

Minerva, how could you do this to me? How could you! Otho, Ligarius and now…this! Well, Orbilio, you can’t say I didn’t give you fair warning. This time I’ll suck you in then blow you out in tinksy winksy bubbles, so help me I will.

He was standing in the atrium, admiring the newly painted frieze which Gaius had commissioned to celebrate all things Egyptian. Unfortunately, this afternoon he wasn’t alone.

‘Good grief, you and the oik? What a frightful combination.’

‘I’ve missed you, too, Claudia.’

‘Difficult to recognize him without the headlice. What do you want?’

‘I heard you were in a spot of trouble this morning.’

‘You heard wrong. Goodbye.’

He ran after her as she flounced towards the garden. ‘No, I heard right , Claudia.’

She paused. ‘Oh, don’t tell me. That scruffy little tike is your chief witness? Again.’

‘It doesn’t matter who the witness-’

‘Yep!’ Rufus had run up to join them. ‘I saw you. You was fighting with this real big geezer-umph!’

A hand clamped itself over the boy’s mouth. ‘Listen to me, you spiteful little monster. One more lie from your duplicitous lips and I’ll rip your skinny liver out and serve it up for breakfast. Is that clear?’

The boy’s eyes swivelled round to Orbilio, but Orbilio was giving intense study to the capital of the column beside him.

‘Oi, don’t get shirty, missus. Can I help if it’s the truth?’

‘Truth?’ Claudia pinched his earlobe and dragged him into a secluded corner of the garden. ‘You wouldn’t know the truth if it landed on your face and pecked your nose off. Now if I hear one more-’

‘Leave him alone, Claudia.’

‘You keep out of this.’

‘I said that’s enough. Let him go.’

She gave the earlobe a sharp tweak before releasing it. The ghastly child seemed more interested in the two adults than his wretched ear. Well, she hoped it turned black and dropped off in the night.

‘The gaffer’s in a bad mood,’ Rufus said cheerfully. ‘Callisunus raked him over the coals a couple of hours ago and, boy,’ he let his breath out in a whistle, ‘were them coals hot!’

‘Splendid.’ Claudia smiled radiantly at Orbilio. ‘Now you can run along and chase criminals-and leave me in peace. Toodle-oo.’

‘For heaven’s sake, woman, I’m trying to catch a murderer.’

‘So who’s stopping you?’

‘Tell me about this morning.’

She scowled at the boy, then she scowled at Orbilio. ‘Very well. Claudia-on her way to the baths. Claudia-tipped out of her litter. Wee bit of a scrap. Junius-vital organs rearranged. Claudia-came home.’ She held her hands out, palms upwards, and arranged her face in a smile. ‘End of story.’

‘Tell me about the Thracian.’

‘Good heavens, man. You don’t think we stopped to exchange pleasantries with them, do you? Oh, what a charming riot, but tell me, didn’t we meet in Thrace a year or two back? Don’t be ridiculous.’

Orbilio settled himself against the trunk of an apple tree. ‘I’m a patient man, Claudia. I can wait.’

She turned to Rufus. ‘You.’ She jabbed him with her finger. ‘Kitchen.’

He looked over at Orbilio and opened his mouth to speak.

‘Now!’

The boy ran off so fast that had the floor been made of wood it might well have caught fire.

‘And you.’ A slave came running. ‘Follow that urchin. Make sure he doesn’t steal anything.’ She clapped her hands and sent the rest of the slaves packing.

‘Wine?’ she asked pleasantly.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion, but finding nothing except ingenuousness, Orbilio slowly nodded acceptance.

‘You’re derisive about Rufus, but his testimony is reliable, I’m afraid, and since-Claudia, are you listening to me?’

‘Try the figs. Come along, they’re not poisoned!’ She busied herself with pouring wine and settling herself on the bench, then patted the marble beside her in invitation. Seeing the scepticism on his face, she added, ‘I don’t bite.’