by Ruso
‘It’s a privilege,’ put in her older sister. ‘But we won’t have to put up with it much longer, hopefully. Anyway, after we’ve bathed and had dinner you can spend tonight unpacking, or whatever it is you do for our brother. Then if you get him to give you some money we can all go shopping.’
Tilla sat up, rubbing her eyes. ‘Shopping?’ she repeated, wondering why anyone would want to tramp around buying things in this heat. Surely the family had enough servants to fetch whatever they needed?
The girls looked at each other. Marcia said, ‘What did I tell you? She doesn’t understand.’
‘Don’t you have shops in Britannia?’ asked Flora.
Marcia said, ‘They probably don’t have money, either. Come on, Tilla. We’ll show you what a bath-house is before the others get in there and mess it up.’
10
Ruso dropped the lid of the trunk and sat on it as if he could keep the family’s troubles trapped inside. He said, ‘I might have guessed the Gabinii were involved in this somewhere.’
Gabinius Fuscus and his cousin had been friends of their father: the sort of friends who insisted on lending him large sums of money. Their offers were so cordial that Publius Petreius had failed to extract any details about when they would want the cash back, or how much interest they were expecting. Since his death, their unpredictable demands for repayment had been causing the Petreius brothers major headaches. While the brothers had struggled to remain solvent, Gabinius Fuscus had risen to become a senior magistrate on the local city council, and his even wealthier cousin was now a Senator down in Rome.
‘Is it just one of them, or both?’ asked Ruso.
‘Neither,’ said Lucius, propping his elbows on the worn surface of the desk and cradling his head in his hands. ‘Well, both. Indirectly.’
Ruso waited, wondering if Lucius’ inability to define the problem might be part of the reason he had failed to solve it.
‘At least the Senator won’t be bothering us,’ said Lucius. ‘Not in person. He’s too busy down in Rome, trying to find ways of undermining Hadrian.’
‘Good.’
Lucius looked up. ‘No, it isn’t. In the meantime he’s let a shark called Severus loose to manage his estate.’
‘Who’s he?’
‘Some distant relation from Rome, apparently. Everybody reckons they’ve sent him and his sister up here to get rid of them.’
‘And this Severus is the one who’s trying to get the seizure order?’
‘Severus,’ said Lucius, snatching up a stylus and emphasizing each word with a stab of the point into the desk, ‘is a Devious, Vindictive, Lying Bastard.’
‘Ah.’
‘That money was all there, whatever he says. I put it in front of him myself.’
Ruso decided not to interrupt. If he listened for long enough, Lucius would start to make sense.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Lucius. ‘You’re thinking, why didn’t you wait while he counted it?’
‘You know what the Gabinii are like.’
Lucius tossed the stylus aside. ‘When your wife’s in floods of tears and your son’s howling in pain, Gaius, it’s hard to care what the Gabinii are like.’
Lucius had been sitting where he was sitting now, counting the money for the latest instalment of the loan repayment, when there was a commotion in the entrance hall. News had arrived that Cass’s brother was drowned. While everyone was absorbing this shock Little Lucius, aged four, wandered into the yard, climbed up a ladder and fell off the roof of the stables.
‘His arm was bent the wrong way at the elbow. The doctor thought he might have to amputate.’
‘Nasty,’ agreed Ruso. ‘Nobody would blame you if you miscounted.’
‘I didn’t!’ snapped Lucius. ‘Severus took advantage. We rushed into town to find a doctor and I just stopped off at the estate to dump the cash on his desk. The evil bastard must have been able to hear the child crying, but he left me standing there while he chatted to his steward. When I told him I was in a hurry he took the money and said, “Don’t let me hold you up; I’ll send the receipt over later.”
‘Ah,’ said Ruso.
‘And he smiled when he said it.’
‘Ah.’
‘Only instead of a receipt we got a demand saying it was two hundred short, and when I didn’t fall for that, he said he’d take us to court.’
‘I see.’
‘I thought the Senator might want to know he’d got a crook running his estate, so I went and told Fuscus what was going on. Fuscus told me to go home and not to worry about it, so I didn’t.’ Lucius cleared his throat. ‘Only he didn’t do a thing. It should never have come to a court hearing, Gaius. Severus was lying. I thought if I called his bluff he’d back down.’
‘Ah.’
‘Don’t keep saying “Ah” in that tone of voice. You weren’t here. And anyway, you’d think local magistrates would back a decent farmer against some fly-by-night from Rome, wouldn’t you? Especially since half of them used to spend the evenings lolling round our dining tables pretending to be Father’s friends.’
Ruso was less surprised than his brother seemed to be. Their father had probably borrowed money from most of the local dignitaries at one time or another. Still, no matter how annoyed they might have been, he could not understand how a small squabble had led to bankruptcy proceedings. There was something else that Lucius was holding back. ‘Just tell me the rest and get it over with, Brother. I’ve had a long day and my foot’s aching.’
The pitch of Lucius’ voice rose, as it always did when he was lying. ‘Tell you what?’
‘Whatever it is that turned a row over the cost of a decent amphora of wine into an attempt to ruin us.’
‘It’s not my fault, Gaius!’
Ruso shifted sideways and stretched his leg out along the trunk. ‘I didn’t say it was.’
‘Now you’re thinking, why the hell didn’t he just pay up straight away when we lost the court case?’
‘Why didn’t you?’
‘Because we didn’t owe him the money! I’m not rushing round paying people twice just because they lie to us. What do you think I am?’
‘Ah.’
‘Stop saying “Ah”!’
‘What do you want me to say, Lucius? “Never mind”? “Well done”?’
‘How about, “Thank you”? How about, “Thank you, Lucius, for running the farm and looking after the family while I was off playing soldiers and picking up women”?’
Ruso leaned back against the wall. Somewhere beyond the study door, he could hear the sound of children laughing.
‘If you’d sorted out this dowry business when you were asked,’ persisted Lucius, ‘both the girls would be betrothed by now, and we wouldn’t have had half this trouble.’
Ruso, wondering why they were now talking about dowries, said, ‘I was waiting till we had some money.’
‘By the time that happens, nobody will want them,’ retorted Lucius. ‘If they haven’t already died of old age and frustration, as Marcia points out to me several times a day. And I don’t suppose you’ve brought home any spoils of war apart from the girl?’
‘There might have been time to get some if I hadn’t come rushing home to help you.’ Ruso stopped. Arguing with his brother would only waste more time. ‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘Finish telling me what’s going on.’
‘You keep looking at me as if it’s all my fault.’
‘I’m looking at you in the hope that you’ll get on with it.’
Lucius scrutinized him for a moment, then grunted what might have been assent. ‘The magistrates gave us thirty days to pay,’ he said. ‘I was going to scrape together the cash and pay at the last possible moment, on principle.’
‘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 co
me 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.’
A picture of a siege engine floated across Ruso’s mind: a great tower lumbering relentlessly forward, its covering of animal hides impervious to a
ll 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?’