Marilyn Todd: I, Claudia

‘Sweet Jupiter in heaven!’

Quintus Aurelius Crassus, respected senator, loving husband, father of five sons, two daughters, grandfather of a dozen lively grandchildren, had most certainly not died of natural causes.

Quintus Aurelius Crassus had had his eyes gouged out.

In the four and a half years since Claudia had married Gaius Seferius for his money, a day hadn’t passed when she’d been neither cooled nor soothed nor refreshed from walking in off the hot, bustling street to the quiet serenity of the atrium. Burning braziers gave off sweet-smelling scents, fountains rippled and tinkled, marble statues smiled in welcome, while cranes and doves and a hundred exotic animals pranced and danced on the walls. Except today.

‘Melissa!’

She snapped her fingers and marched straight upstairs to her bedroom.

‘Melissa!’

By the time the young slave girl came running up, Claudia had already divested herself of every item of clothing.

‘Burn these.’

‘Madam?’

‘Don’t gawp, girl. You heard me, burn them. And, Melissa-see to it personally, or I’ll slit your nose right up the middle.’

Obediently the slave girl gathered up the garments. She was used to odd requests from her mistress, but this was the strangest yet. She would burn them herself, she didn’t trust the other slaves, but oh, what a tragic waste of beautiful apple-green cotton.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, what’s that terrible wailing? Isn’t there anyone in the house man enough to put a stop to it?’

Melissa stuck the sandals under her arm. ‘That’s your daughter, madam.’

‘Flavia? Dear Diana, how many times do I have to tell you, she’s Gaius’s daughter not mine. My own poor dear family-well, you know full well what happened. I don’t need to go over it again. Besides,’ she scowled at the dark haired girl standing complacently in the doorway, ‘I’m nowhere near old enough to have a daughter of fifteen. Now give me a hand with this breast band.’

She waited until the fit was comfortable before asking, ‘What’s the matter with the silly bitch this time?’

‘The bridegroom, I gather.’

Claudia puffed out her cheeks. ‘That awful child’s never been happy about one damned thing in her life. Tunic! I hope her aunt’s here with her.’

Flavia was the youngest of Gaius’s brood and when her mother died in childbirth, she had been fostered out to Gaius’s only surviving sister. Many times Claudia had pondered the conundrum: was Julia frigid because she was childless, or was she childless because she was frigid?

‘I thought you disliked Miss Julia, madam.’

‘Frightful woman. Can’t stand her. Stola, please, Melissa.’

But even a sister-in-law has her uses from time to time. Sweeping into the courtyard in fresh, ice-blue linen, she threw wide her arms. ‘Julia, darling! I had no idea you were here.’

Her sister-in-law, bony, birdlike and a decade older shot her a sideways glance. ‘I thought you were out,’ she said sharply.

‘Oh, you know what slaves are like these days.’ Claudia waved an arm dismissively. ‘I was lying down.’ She tapped her temple. ‘Headache, you know.’

Julia’s eyes became even more hawklike, but Flavia saved the day by bursting into another fit of tears. ‘I don’t want to marry him,’ she howled.

‘Want doesn’t come into it,’ her aunt snapped. ‘It’s arranged and wed him you will. Your father’s fixed a good match with Antonius. He’s a leading figure in the Treasury, isn’t he? Draws a top-grade salary and is an old friend of your father’s as well. What more can you ask for?’

‘He’s old…’

Julia and her sister-in-law exchanged glances. ‘Mature,’ Claudia corrected. Antonius was the same age as Gaius.

‘It’s not fair.’ Flavia began to chew nails which were already down to the quick. ‘First he was engaged to Calpurnia, and when she died he was foisted on to me like some old hand-me-down.’

‘Exactly my point.’ Julia slapped the girl’s hand away from her mouth. ‘Your father thought him good enough for his eldest daughter didn’t he? Give thanks Antonius is still interested in the family alliance.’

Flavia pouted. ‘He wants babies straight away and I don’t. I’m too young.’

‘Nonsense,’ Claudia said briskly. ‘I’d already had one daughter by the time I was your age and was heavy with my second.’

It wasn’t true, of course, but if she stuck to the story well enough, in another year or three-who knows? — she might even come to believe it herself.

Julia moved closer to her sister-in-law. ‘I think it might be the, er, physical side that’s putting her off,’ she whispered.

‘Fennel.’

‘Oh?’ Julia’s eyebrows raised in surprise. ‘Does that make you…more…or less…you-know-what?’

‘I meant for her nerves,’ Claudia snapped.

‘Oh.’ The older woman inched further towards her. ‘Actually, I was rather hoping you’d have a word with her about the wedding. Or to be more precise, about what happens after the festivities.’

‘Certainly not.’

‘But you and Gaius…the age difference…I mean, you’re Flavia’s stepmother, it would reassure her-’

‘No. And for goodness’ sake, do get the child to shut up!’

Deaf to her stepdaughter’s tearful protests, Claudia clapped her hands and called for wine. Flavia’s wedding arrangements were part of her duty. Regrettable, but there you are. She resigned herself to lengthy discussions and prayed Jupiter would send a thunderbolt to break up the proceedings quickly. Instead Julia’s thin claw held out her latest pendant.

‘I wanted to canvas your opinion on this,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure the silversmith has got it right, the balance seems somewhat uneven. What do you think?’

Claudia stood up, vowing to make a really good sacrifice to Jupiter first thing in the morning. Maybe a nice white calf?

‘What I think is that my head’s thumping. I’m going to lie down.’

She’d established her presence, there was no need to prolong the ghastly encounter with this constipated old cabbage.

‘Oh?’ Julia hopped forward and peered closely. ‘Hmm. I suppose you don’t look too well. Very pale.’ The hooded lids finally conceded defeat and Julia gathered up her belongings. ‘And rather waxen, too,’ she admitted. ‘You’re not coming down with anything, are you?’

Claudia shrugged noncommittally. ‘Who knows?’ she said feebly. ‘Who knows?’

The veiled threat was sufficient to send Julia and her snivelling stepdaughter packing with all speed, and Claudia sincerely hoped it might be sufficient to keep the tiresome pair at bay for at least another week. Snatching up a goblet and a jug of honeyed wine, she marched back up to her bedroom and threw herself down on the couch. A small Egyptian cat with a wedge-shaped face and blue, crossed eyes bounded up beside her, rattling with pleasure.

Melissa poked her head round the doorway. ‘Would you like-’

‘Get out!’ Three fat cushions hurtled towards her. ‘And stay out!’

The cat poured itself into the hollow of her shoulder, butting Claudia’s chin with its head. Stroking it thoughtfully, Claudia sipped at her wine.

‘Well, Drusilla,’ she said at last. ‘Have we pulled it off?’

Sooner or later someone would walk in and discover the dead senator, mother-naked and trussed like wildfowl, and the search would be on for his killer. A noblewoman dressed in the very finest cotton would stick out like a snake among sweetmeats in that tenement, and you simply couldn’t count the number of people who’d seen her go in and come out. That stola was the trouble.

‘Still, it would’ve engendered a damned sight more gossip had I discarded that fine and distinguished symbol of Roman womanhood, don’t you think? Anyway, the point is-would anyone there be likely to recognize us?’