‘And your handsome new husband,’ said Diana with a smile.
Nubia flushed.
‘Don’t worry.’ Diana put her hand on Nubia’s arm. ‘I’m over Aristo. I love Marcus very much. He’s what I need.’
‘And he needs you,’ said Nubia. She looked at Flavia.
‘Yes,’ said Flavia. ‘Pater needs a wife. But what changed your mind about men? You once said you’d rather die than marry.’
Diana stared down at the deck. ‘When you went missing, I blamed myself. After all, I was the one who encouraged you to seek adventure.’
Flavia glanced ruefully at Nubia. ‘I didn’t need much encouragement,’ she said.
‘Then, when I saw your father in the forum last week, he looked so sad and vulnerable. My heart melted for him.’
When she said this, Flavia felt her own heart melt for Diana.
‘And somehow,’ said Diana, looking at Flavia’s father, ‘I just knew. I knew he was the one.’
‘You’ll be good for him,’ said Flavia. ‘I’m glad you’re married.’
‘Thank you, Flavia,’ said Diana. ‘Thank you for accepting me into your family.’ She gave Flavia a quick hug and gazed back towards Ostia and the lighthouse beyond. ‘And you, Flavia?’ asked Diana. ‘Will you miss Ostia?’
‘Yes. I love Ostia. And I’ll miss it so much.’ Even as Flavia said it, she felt fresh tears well up and she began to cry. Nubia and Diana put their arms around her and this made her cry even more.
Flavia cried for all the things she loved that she would never see again: the red-brick granaries, with their warm smell of bread; the black-and-white mosaics, the plume of smoke from the lighthouse at Portus, the soft blue Ostian sky, her beloved umbrella pines and the spicy scent of the grasses in the necropolis. A sudden memory made her smile and she blinked through her tears at Diana. ‘Remember the time you were teaching us to be virgin huntresses? And you gave us each a bow and arrows?’
‘Yes,’ Diana’s eyes were also swimming.
‘Did you know I accidentally shot a man instead of a deer?’
‘Juno!’ exclaimed Diana. ‘I hope you didn’t kill him.’
‘I only shot him a little. In the calf.’
They all giggled and then Nubia pointed. ‘Behold,’ she said. ‘Those men are waving at us.’
‘Where?’ said Flavia, following Nubia’s finger. The Delphina was moving slowly southeast along the coast.
‘There. Those men in the little boat behind us.’
‘Oh no!’ said Flavia. ‘Maybe Domitian changed his mind and sent men to arrest us.’
‘I don’t think the emperor would send unarmed men in a fishing boat,’ said Diana. ‘Besides, one of them has a dog.’
‘A dog?’ said Flavia. She wiped her eyes and shaded them against the late afternoon sun. The water was dazzling and it was hard to make out the silhouette of the man waving at them. ‘Great Juno’s peacock,’ whispered Flavia. ‘I think it’s Floppy.’
And she fainted.
‘Flavia? Flavia are you all right?’ A deep voice with a patrician accent.
Flavia opened her eyes. ‘Floppy?’
‘I wish you wouldn’t call me that.’ He was kneeling over her, looking tired but impossibly handsome. He stood and pulled her to her feet. ‘I think you fainted.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I fainted.’
‘You’ve faced bears in the arena and murderers and slave-dealers and imperial torturers and you never fainted then, but I made you faint?’
‘Yes. You make me faint.’
He laughed. ‘Flavia, I’m coming with you. And in a few years, when you’re ready, we’ll be married.’
‘What about your responsibilities?’
‘I don’t really want to be a priest. It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Just a glorified civil servant.’
‘What about being a lawyer?’
‘I can practise law in Ephesus.’
‘What about your servants?’
‘Lyncaeus is the only one I like. I’ve brought him with me.’
He tipped his head towards the bow and she saw Lyncaeus standing with her father and Diana and Nubia and Aristo and the dogs. Alma and Caudex were there, too, while Lupus and Atticus were watching them from the rigging. And bald Punicus stood at the helm. When they saw her looking, they all turned their heads quickly away and pretended to busy themselves with other matters. Flaccus laughed and smiled down at her. He was standing very close, holding her lightly by the shoulders.
Flavia looked up into his beautiful dark eyes. ‘What about your sister?’ she said. ‘Don’t you have to look after her?’
‘She’ll be married soon and besides, we don’t really get on. She’s happy because I altered my will to leave her the townhouse.’
‘Your will?’
‘It was the only way. I’ll have to pretend to die.’
‘But what about your poem. What about the Argonautica?’
‘I left it with Pliny. He understands how important it is to me. If anyone can get it published for me posthumously, he can.’
‘But it’s not finished.’
He shrugged. ‘I couldn’t think how to end it.’
‘But you know the ending.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I don’t.’ His face was very close to hers. So close that she could smell the faint sweet scent of mastic on his breath.
‘Floppy?’ she said.
He rolled his eyes and grinned. ‘Yes?’
‘You know the ivory love-tablet you gave me? I dropped it in the bath. And all the writing washed off and I never saw what you wrote on it. Will you tell me?’
He smiled and pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear. His declaration of love was almost as wonderful as the feel of his warm breath in her ear. She shivered with delight. ‘Oh, Floppy!’
‘Only you,’ he said, ‘are allowed to call me Floppy.’
Then he kissed her, and her heart beat so fast that she thought she might swoon again.
Three years later, in the Roman port of Ephesus, Pulchra was thumbing shimmery blue stibium on Flavia’s eyelids. ‘It’s too bad Flaccus died in that shipwreck,’ she sighed. ‘He was the most eligible bachelor in the empire. I’ll never forget hearing the news that he had called off his betrothal to Prudentilla. It was the talk of Rome, and of Neapolis, too. And then his tragic death. But I can see I’m upsetting you.’
‘Not at all,’ said Flavia. ‘Jason is just as wonderful as Flaccus. More so, in fact. He cares more about Justice and Truth than about Fame or Renown. He’s a brilliant lawyer who defends widows and orphans, as well as important men. He’s already gaining a reputation here in Ephesus.’
‘And he’s handsome?’ Pulchra was applying kohl around Flavia’s eyes, to make them look more exotic.
‘Very.’ Flavia sighed dreamily.
Pulchra huffed. ‘Well, I can see why you gave up being a detectrix after Titus died. You were wrong about almost everything.’
‘That’s what we thought, too,’ said Flavia mildly. ‘Until last week.’
‘What happened last week?’
‘We got a letter from Mordecai,’ said Flavia, ‘sent from Babylon. He told us he had met another rabbi there, a man who had been Titus’s doctor. It was Pinchas ben Aruva, of course, and he told Mordecai about the autopsy and how Titus had died. In his letter to us, Mordecai confessed that he had been waiting for Titus in the latrines that day with a venom-dipped stylus.’
Pulchra stopped applying the kohl for a moment. ‘Jonathan’s father was there that day? Jonathan wasn’t imagining it?’
‘Yes. And listen to this: because he had seen a boy who looked very much like Jonathan, at the last moment he couldn’t do it. He dropped the stylus and ran. He got on the first ship out of Ostia and for two years he lived as a hermit in the deserts of Judaea. Last spring he went to Babylon. That was when he discovered he really had seen Jonathan that day.’
‘And Jonathan had really seen him.’
‘Y
es.’
‘Then there was venom on the stylus?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why didn’t you die? You pricked your finger, didn’t you?’
‘Only a little, and I got the right treatment: heat not cold.’
‘Great Juno’s peacock!’ breathed Pulchra. ‘That means if Jonathan hadn’t gone to Rome, his father would have stabbed Titus with that stylus and there would be imperial blood on his hands.’
‘Yes. But Jonathan did go. And his being there stopped Mordecai doing something terrible.’
‘Maybe Jonathan’s vision was from the gods after all!’ Pulchra resumed applying the kohl: ‘Where is Jonathan?’
‘He’s practising medicine now here in Ephesus, but he sometimes takes time out to look for Popo. A few months ago we had news of a little boy fitting Popo’s description living with a fair-haired mother in Hispania,’ said Flavia. ‘Jonathan went there to investigate. But he’s going to be here for the wedding. He promised. He doesn’t even know about his father’s letter,’ she added.
‘Why didn’t you and Nubia and Lupus go with Jonathan to Hispania?’
‘We’re still trying to restore the last of the kidnapped children to their families. But every time we match a child to their parents, someone brings us a new waif or stray. Besides, I told you: I don’t solve mysteries anymore.’
Pulchra sighed. ‘If you say so.’
A few moments later she put down the kohl stick and rose to her feet. Nubia and Leda had just finished weaving the pearl embroidered ribbons into Flavia’s hair.
‘Stand up,’ commanded Pulchra. ‘Turn around. Excellent. Diana, bring the veil?’
Flavia’s stepmother brought the veil and draped it over her head and Nubia put the wreath of white and yellow flowers on top.
Pulchra adjusted the garland slightly and fixed it with some silver hairpins and then stood back to admire her work. Nubia, Diana and Leda came to stand beside her. They all stood staring at Flavia.
‘Well?’ said Flavia. ‘How do I look?’
‘Beautiful,’ breathed Nubia.
‘Amazing,’ said Diana.
‘Fantastic,’ said Leda.
Pulchra sighed. ‘Flavia, I must confess, even I am a little jealous of you.’ She carried the make-up tray over to a side table. ‘Where will you and your new husband live?’
‘Why here, at the Villa Vinea, with Nubia and Aristo and the children. There are twenty-six rooms here.’
‘Doesn’t this Jason have a house of his own?’
‘No.’ Flavia glanced at Nubia, her eyes sparkling.
‘So he’s going to burst in and sweep you up in his arms and carry you through the streets of Ephesus and then bring you back here?’
‘Yes,’ laughed Flavia.
‘To this room?’ Pulchra looked around the spacious room with its sky blue panels and the frieze of cream-coloured cupids on a black border, and its balcony overlooking Ephesus.
‘Yes,’ said Flavia. ‘This will be our bedroom.’
‘We’re going to scatter the bed with rose petals,’ said Diana, ‘so it will be ready when they return.’
Nubia cocked her head. ‘Hark!’ she said. ‘I think I hear them.’
Flavia and the others held their breath, and sure enough, they could hear the joyful pulsing sound of flutes, tambourines and drums from outside. They all ran to the balcony.
It was dusk and the first stars were winking in the deep blue sky above Ephesus. Bats flitted in the warm air and from the hill behind came the steady creak of cicadas in the olive groves and vineyards. Flavia was dizzy from the heady scent of jasmine and saffron crocus in her garland, and her rose-scented veil.
She knew which street they were coming up because she could see the flickering glow of torchlight preceding them. Other shutters were opening and some of their rich neighbours had come out on their balconies, too.
The music was getting louder – its exotic pulsing rhythm made her tap her feet – and at last the procession appeared around a corner. Lupus was thumping the beat on a goatskin drum. Two male flautists followed and two youths on tambourines. Flavia recognised them as musicians from the pantomime troupe that Lupus was apprenticed to. They were dressed in jewel-coloured silk tunics, and their spiky garlands made them look like satyrs. Some of the older boys from the orphanage were there, too, ready to throw nuts and sing bawdy songs.
Behind the musicians at the head of the procession Flavia saw her father walking beside Pulchra’s husband, Julius Menecrates, who had accompanied her to Ephesus. The dogs jostled about their feet, all four wearing garlands and panting happily. Lyncaeus, Caudex, Ursus, and some men from the guild of tentmakers held pine-pitch torches; the scent made her think of night adventures. Sisyphus was there, too, wearing the biggest garland of all; he was one of the few friends from Italia she had invited. Walking beside him was a tall youth in a hooded cloak, with a satchel over one shoulder: Jonathan. He must have come straight from the harbour. She could tell from the slump of his shoulders that he had not found the missing twin.
‘Jonathan!’ she called, remembering too late that the bride was supposed to be trembling in her mother’s arms, not leaning over the balcony. Jonathan looked up and saw her. He gave her a tired smile and a wave. Sisyphus and some of the others in the procession waved up at her, too, and she waved back.
Then Flavia caught sight of her groom. He wore a garland over his glossy dark hair and he was talking to Aristo and laughing. He was near-sighted and hadn’t seen her yet.
‘Great Juno’s peacock!’ gasped Pulchra. ‘It can’t be!’
‘It is,’ said Flavia, her heart pounding. ‘That’s him. That’s Jason.’
Pulchra turned and stared at Flavia, open-mouthed. ‘But that means he gave up everything for you,’ she spluttered. ‘Wealth, name, reputation. I don’t believe it. I just do not believe it.’ She shook her head in wonder.
The procession was now almost directly below the balcony. Flavia saw Aristo say something in the bridegroom’s ear and point. Her beautiful husband-to-be followed Aristo’s pointing arm and at last he saw her. He smiled up at her, his teeth very white and his dark eyes sparkling in the torchlight, and he mouthed something up at her. The music drowned out his words but Flavia laughed.
‘What did he say?’ demanded Pulchra. ‘I couldn’t hear.’
‘He told me he loved me,’ said Flavia. ‘And he called me by his pet name for me.’
‘And what is that?’
‘Puella docta,’ said Flavia without taking her eyes from him. ‘His clever girl.’ She waved as he disappeared around the corner towards the front door of the villa.
‘I cannot believe he’s alive,’ said Pulchra, as they moved from the balcony back to the bedroom. ‘You’ve deceived everyone in Rome.’
‘You won’t tell anyone, will you?’
‘Of course not,’ said Pulchra.
‘Not even your father? Especially not your father!’
‘No, Flavia. I know how to keep a secret.’ Pulchra paused and put her hands on her hips and turned back to Flavia. ‘Will you do me a small favour in return?’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Flavia. She could hear pounding on the front door downstairs, then excited laughter and squeals from some of the little girls guarding it.
‘You said you don’t solve mysteries anymore. But that was before you found out you were right all along. So now you can solve mysteries! You can solve my mystery.’
‘I suppose . . .’ Flavia glanced at Nubia, and her friend smiled and nodded. ‘I suppose I can!’
Downstairs the sound of music suddenly grew louder: the girls had opened the front door.
‘Excellent. It’s not a very big mystery.’
‘Is it urgent?’
‘Not terribly,’ said Pulchra.
‘I can’t go back to Italia, you know. I’m still officially in exile.’ Flavia could hear her bridegroom taking the stairs two at a time.
‘You’d only have to go to the isle of Sa
mos,’ said Pulchra, ‘which they say is very beautiful this time of year.’
Flavia nodded. ‘Very well,’ she said. ‘I’ll take the case. But I won’t be able to start the investigation for a few days. At the moment I’m a little busy.’
As if on cue, the door burst open and the groom came striding towards her. He was smiling, but the intensity of his gaze frightened Flavia a little so she threw her arms around Nubia and buried her face in her friend’s neck. Nubia hugged her back and they clung to each other tightly. Some of the musicians had come into the room and the sound of music filled her head along with the sweet scent of roses and saffron.
She felt his hands grip her waist and she clung, giggling, to her friend, but Nubia was laughing too hard to hold on and now he was swinging her up into his strong arms. His dark hair fell over his eyes and he tossed it back impatiently with a flick of his head, then gazed down at her with laughing eyes.
‘Oh, Floppy,’ gasped Flavia, ‘I love you,’
‘Only you,’ he said, ‘are allowed to call me Floppy.’
This is the final book in a series of seventeen full-length novels and a dozen mini-mysteries all about the same characters. If this is your first Roman Mystery, you might want to go back and start at the beginning with The Thieves of Ostia. Flavia first meets Jonathan, Nubia and Lupus in that book and together they solve the mystery of who is killing the watchdogs of Ostia. I suggest starting there and reading them in order. You can see the order in which the books occur at the beginning of this book.
Although The Man from Pomegranate Street is officially the end of the stories about Flavia, Jonathan, Nubia and Lupus, they inhabit a world I love and hope to write more about. So keep an eye out: they might get a mention – or even appear – in some of my future books.
Aeneas (uh-nee-uss)
Trojan son of the goddess Venus who escaped from conquered Troy to have many adventures and finally settled near the future site of Rome
Aeneid (uh-nee-id)
Virgil’s epic poem about Aeneas (see above) whose descendents ruled Rome
The Roman Mysteries Complete Collection Page 273