‘I would have done the same.’
Lucius seemed surprised by this unexpected support. He said, ‘I was about to go over there with the money when he turned up here with a greasy grin on his face and said if we couldn’t pay, he was prepared to come to an arrangement.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Access to Flora.’
Ruso stared at him. ‘Flora? She’s thirteen!’
‘Fourteen, Brother. Keep up. He said at that age in Rome she’d be married. I told him he wasn’t in Rome now and to get out before I set the dog on him.’
‘Right,’ said Ruso. Presumably Severus had no idea that the only way the Petreius’ farm dog would injure anyone would be to lick them raw.
‘After he’d gone I realized he hadn’t taken the money with him.’ Lucius ran one hand over his thinning hair. ‘I know, I know. I should have chased after him and made him take it. But frankly, I didn’t want to go near him. I took it over there the next day, and that was when he said it was too late: he was calling in the whole fifteen thousand and applying to Rome for a seizure order.’
‘Because it was one day late?’
‘One day.’
‘Surely he can’t do that?’
‘He can do whatever he likes. He’s one of the Gabinii. Things have got worse since you’ve been away. These days half the town’s scared of Fuscus, and the other half’s probably on his payroll.’
‘Even so, there must be a loan agreement — ’
‘Severus promised me an extension on the loan months ago, but he never put it in writing. Now he can claim that we’re behind with the payments.’
Ruso shook his head. ‘This is unbelievable.’
‘He was enjoying it,’ said Lucius. ‘I could see it in his face.’
‘And Fuscus knows about this?’
‘Fuscus knows everything.’
‘We need a lawyer.’
Lucius shook his head. ‘I’ve tried. We need a miracle. None of Father’s so-called friends can help even if they wanted to. Seizure orders go up to the Praetor’s office in Rome, and it’s way over their heads. The only thing the lawyer could think of was that, since you’re technically Father’s heir, and you’re — well, you were — sort of away on public service, that might hold everything up.’
It was not difficult to guess now who had forged that letter. Severus had found a way to bring him back so that he could be sued.
Lucius said, ‘Are you sure you can’t pretend you’re not here?’
Ruso put his foot back on the floor and reached for his stick. ‘I’m going to clean up and have dinner,’ he said. ‘In the morning I’ll go and pay a visit to Fuscus.’ He held up a hand to forestall his brother’s objection. ‘I know you’ve already tried, but if he knows I’m home and I haven’t called, he’ll be insulted, and that’ll make everything worse. Then I’m going to find this Severus and ask him what the hell he thinks he’s playing at.’
‘It won’t do any good.’
‘Have you got any better ideas?’
11
Ruso leaned on the balustrade and stood taking in the view from the front porch. The lanky shadows of the pergolas had swung away from the walkways they were built to cover and were now stalking the flowerbeds. He sniffed. The drains needed to be flushed out. Lucius had been letting things go. A bird fluttered out from the ivy covering the wall that Arria had insisted on having raised to separate garden from working farmyard, and swooped to stab at an insect in the dry fountain. Even from this distance, the crack in the side of the pool was obvious, as were the failed attempts to patch it. It was an uncomfortable reminder of the emptiness of the family coffers.
Pretend you don’t know.
That was what he had been doing in Britannia. Lucius was right. He had been finding ways to distract himself from his responsibilities back at home.
A waft of smoke was rising from behind the bath-house. In a moment he would go and sweat out the dirt of travelling. Then, newly clean, he would submerge himself in the cold plunge and hope for inspiration about how to tackle the plans of the Gabinii to extend their empire across his own small farm.
His musing was interrupted by a roar of ‘Sit down!’ from inside the house.
‘From now on, you’ll all sit still and eat with your mouths shut!’ bellowed Lucius, with more fury than logic. ‘The next one to speak will be whipped!’
There was a brief pause, followed by an exasperated ‘You know what I mean!’ Then louder, as if someone had opened a door, ‘Because I’ve had enough! If you won’t discipline them, I will.’
Ruso sighed and told himself it was no use feeling nostalgic for the Army. He supposed he should go and find out what his sisters had done with Tilla, and whether he needed to rescue her from it.
He was reaching for his stick when he sensed a waft of perfume and heard the ominous words, ‘Gaius, dear! We must have a little chat!’
‘Little chats’ with Arria usually consisted of her telling him what she wanted him to do, followed by him explaining why he was not going to do it. ‘Before we start,’ he said, leaning back against the balustrade as if it would support his arguments, ‘have you seen Tilla anywhere?’
‘That girl?’ said Arria in a tone that suggested Tilla was of no more importance than a piece of luggage. ‘Oh, your sisters are showing her around. I don’t expect they have houses like this in Britannia, do they? It must be quite exciting for her.’
Ruso motioned his stepmother towards the stone bench, where they sat side by side in an atmosphere of lavender and drains.
‘I’ve been talking to Lucius,’ he said, ‘about the way things are.’
‘It’s really too dreadful, isn’t it?’
‘It’s very worrying,’ he agreed, relieved that she had at last begun to acknowledge the seriousness of their situation. ‘I’m going to see what I can do to sort it out tomorrow.’
‘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.’