‘The mistress will explain. She’s in the atrium.’
I went through, bemused. Perilla was lying on the couch, reading. I gave her the welcome-home kiss and lay down opposite.
‘Well, dear?’ she said.
‘Case solved,’ I said. ‘I’ll tell you about it in a minute. What’s this bit of excitement Bathyllus mentioned?’
‘Ah.’ She hesitated. ‘“Excitement” isn’t exactly the word. It was more of an accident, really.’
‘What?’
‘It happened while I was out.’
‘Come on, lady! Meton drop the soup pot? Get his fingers caught in the mincer? Bathyllus was looking smug as hell, so it must’ve been something along those lines.’
‘Daistratus fell off a step-ladder.’
‘What? ’
‘And broke his arm.’ She glared at me. ‘Marcus, it is not funny! The poor man was in terrible pain, Bathyllus said.’
I tried to straighten my face. ‘Tell me more.’
‘He was working on the top part of the mural in the dining-room. The cord holding the two parts of the step-ladder must’ve been frayed, and the thing collapsed. He fell on his arm – his right arm – and broke it.’
‘His, uh, right arm. The one he uses to paint with.’
‘Yes. Bathyllus sent for Sarpedon, of course’ – Sarpedon was our doctor – ‘and he set the bone and put the arm in splints. But he said it’d take several months to heal properly.’
‘This, uh, means that Architecturescape Seven’s on hold, then, does it?’
‘Unfortunately, yes. Or rather, it’s been cancelled altogether.’
‘Really?’
‘I arrived home just as Daistratus was leaving. I was able to have a quick word with him.’ She ducked her head. ‘I’m afraid he was rather emotional.’
‘Was that a smile, lady?’
She ignored me. ‘He didn’t intend to sue, he said. However, in view of the circumstances and his earlier conversation with you he flatly refused to complete the work at a future date. The phrases “artistic philistine” and “pearls before swine” were used. The upshot was that we agreed on a refund of half what I’d originally paid him.’
‘Reasonable.’
She sniffed. ‘I thought so. Particularly since the poor man will be incapacitated for some time to come.’
‘The world of art can only be grateful for the respite.’
Bathyllus soft-shoed in carrying the rest of the jug.
‘Will there be anything else, sir?’ he said. ‘Dinner will be quite late this evening, Meton says, but I can ask him to make you an omelette if you’re hungry after your ride.’
‘No, that’s okay,’ I said, holding up the winecup for a refill. ‘Oh, Bathyllus, just out of interest. That step-ladder. The one Daistratus fell off.’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘It collapsed because the cord was frayed, right?’
‘Indeed. Very unfortunate.’
‘Yeah. A bit sloppy on your part, wasn’t it? I mean, making sure everything in the household’s shipshape, tight as a drum, safe as houses and running along smoothly is a major-domo’s job.’
‘Yes, sir. I wouldn’t have expressed it in quite that mixture of metaphors myself, but I have to agree. An inexcusable dereliction of duty, sir. I feel extremely guilty.’
‘Well, we’ll let things ride this time, little guy. No use crying over spilt milk. Water under the bridge.’
‘Quite, sir. Thank you.’
He turned to go.
‘Oh, Bathyllus?’
‘Yes, sir?’
‘You wouldn’t happen to have a bucket of lime-wash handy, would you?’
‘I think that could be arranged, sir.’
‘For use before dinner?’
‘I’ll see to it at once.’ He exited.
Ah, well. We’d just have to eat looking at a blank wall for a while longer.
Maybe, if Eutacticus was really grateful, I could screw the price of a new mural out of him.