Ruth Downie - Ruso and the Root of All Evils

‘Oh do, please,’ she said. ‘Diphilus says it’s because the man who put the fountain in did something to the water. He offered to send somebody to look weeks ago. But no, your brother wanted to do it himself. I said, Lucius, dear, you’re very good at making wine, but what do you know about plumbing? So he lifted some stones up and had a poke about with a stick, but it did no good, and now he says he’s too busy. How can I invite people into the garden? It gives such a terrible impression.’

Evidently his perception of the family’s main problem did not coincide with Arria’s. ‘Who’s Diphilus?’

‘The builder, dear. You remember. The contractor who helped us with the Temple of Diana.’

Fleeced us might have been a better expression, but Ruso was determined not to get into an argument. Not yet, anyway.

‘He’s nearly finished the mausoleum he’s working on,’ she said. ‘If we let him know quickly, he can fit us in for a summer dining extension before he goes on to a big villa contract.’

‘We don’t need a dining extension.’

‘Oh, not a big thing. An outdoor room. You know, with stone couches around three sides and a nice table or two in the middle. Diphilus says it wouldn’t take more than a week to knock up. Your father always said we should have one. Over there, so we can listen to the fountain. When he’s found us someone to mend it, and seen to the drains. Wouldn’t that be nice?’

‘Why don’t we ask the original plumber to come back and fix the fountain?’

‘Because he’s gone off to join the Army, dear.’

Ruso hoped the Army had posted him to somewhere deeply unpleasant.

‘Diphilus is doing us a favour offering to look at it. I’m sure he’ll be very reasonable.’

‘We’ll have a better idea of what we can afford before long,’ said Ruso, determined not to be sucked into discussing details. ‘If anything.’ He knew from watching the way she had worked on his father that Arria would interpret any interest as agreement.

‘We don’t have to spend on cushions for the couches yet,’ she assured him, as if that would make all the difference. ‘The staff could bring the old ones out from indoors just to tide us over. I’m sure nobody would mind.’

A picture of a siege engine floated across Ruso’s mind: a great tower lumbering relentlessly forward, its covering of animal hides impervious to all weapons hurled at it by the beleaguered defenders.

‘Actually,’ he said before Arria could start again, ‘money is what I wanted to talk to you about. I haven’t forgotten about the girls’ dowries — ’

‘Oh, the girls can wait.’

‘But we can’t make any decisions till — what did you say?’

‘The girls can wait, dear. Young women are too impatient these days.’

Ruso blinked. Arria had first started harassing him about the dowries over a year ago, and nothing Lucius said had hinted that she had changed her mind. ‘Well,’ he said, aware that his sisters would be furious, ‘I’m glad we’re agreed.’

‘I’ve had a much better idea about how to get you boys out of trouble.’

As usual, Arria was not put off by a wary silence. For some reason she was extolling the virtues of the amphora factory whose land adjoined their own. ‘It’s a marvellous business, you know,’ she said. ‘All the farms need them, and nobody ever brings the empties back.’ When Ruso failed to enthuse she added, ‘Do they?’

‘Not often,’ he said, careful not to show any interest until he knew where this was leading.

‘Well, he’s dead now, so it’s all hers.’

Ruso realized that something relevant must have drifted past him. ‘Who’s dead?’

‘Lollia Saturnina’s husband, dear. Do try and listen. At least a year and a half ago. Now here you are, a handsome young officer, single, just home from the Legions. What could be better?’

There were many things that could be better, but Ruso could not think how to explain what they were.

‘Don’t scowl, Gaius, please. You would be such a nice-looking boy if you tried to look more cheerful. It would be quite a reasonable house with a little care and attention, and it’s not far to move. I was thinking — ’

‘What about Tilla?’

‘The barbarian?’ Arria glanced around in alarm, as if Tilla were about to pounce on her from behind one of the legs of the pergola. ‘I know you didn’t want to be lonely over there, dear, but really — is it fair to bring people like that to a civilized place?’ Leaning closer, she added in a stage whisper, ‘And especially not home with you, Gaius! What were you thinking?’

‘I was thinking you’d make her welcome.’

The painted eyes widened in alarm. ‘Gaius, you haven’t done something very silly, have you?’

‘Frequently.’

‘Tell me you haven’t married her.’

‘She wouldn’t have me,’ he said. ‘She says I’m too foreign.’

‘Foreign? You? Well, thank goodness for that. Now then … I’m sure we can find a nice family to take her on if she doesn’t want to go home.’

‘She doesn’t need a nice family, Arria. She’s got me.’

Arria let out a long sigh that seemed to express weariness not only with her stepson’s present stance, but with past years of argument, obstinacy and mutual incomprehension. ‘Gaius, dear, please try and be sensible.’ She turned away and wiped at an invisible tear with her middle finger. ‘If only your poor father were here to talk to you!’

Ruso folded his arms. ‘Even Father couldn’t imagine that the widow next door is going to welcome the advances of a bankrupt.’

‘But you’re a war hero, dear!’

‘Of course I’m not! You haven’t gone round saying that to people, have you?’

‘Please try, Gaius. It’s for the sake of the family. Poor Lucius has got us all into a dreadful mess, and I can’t think what else we can do, can you? I suppose you could try talking to Claudia, but she doesn’t have much influence over him anyway.’

Ruso was not sure how or why his former wife had appeared in the conversation. Suspecting he was about to be scolded yet again for not listening, he asked, ‘Over who?’

‘That Severus, dear.’

When his face remained blank she said, ‘But surely Lucius told you?’

‘Told me what?’

‘Claudia is married to Severus now.’

Ruso’s astonishment was such that all he could say was, ‘Oh.’ He scratched his ear with his forefinger and pondered this unexpected complication. It was, of course, completely irrelevant. It was also … he was not sure what it was. His own former wife was married to an unscrupulous business agent who was related to the Gabinii. Surely even Claudia had more sense than that? Surely she had more taste?

Surprise was followed by a brief moment of smugness. He had demonstrated — according to Claudia — many faults and failings during their marriage, but wresting land from innocent families and doing deals for the fourteen-year-old sisters of men who owed him money were not amongst them.

‘Claudia was never the right girl for you anyway,’ continued Arria. ‘I always said so. But Lollia is a nice woman. She could run her business — everyone says she’s far better at it than he was — and you could still carry on with your doctoring. She has some very good connections, you know. People who could pay you properly for a change.’

Ruso recalled Valens once suggesting back in Britannia that what he needed was a rich widow. The thought was no less appalling now than it had been two years ago.

‘I’ve told her all about you,’ continued Arria.

‘I see. And have you told her I’m looking for a wife?’

She winced. ‘Oh, dear. I suppose this is what happens when you mix with soldiers all the time. You will have to learn to be more subtle, dear. Now, I’ve invited her for dinner tomorrow night, but when you meet her you mustn’t say a word about what we’ve discussed. We don’t want to frighten her off.’