Famia had not bothered to follow us here as I had asked him to. What a surprise.

"I've had enough of this," I told Helena. "If Scilla hasn't presented herself here by the end of the Games, we'll pack up and go home. You and I have our own lives to lead."

"Besides," she laughed, "you have been recalled to talk about those geese."

"Never mind the bloody birds. Vespasian has agreed to pay me a delightful amount for the Census and I want to start enjoying it."

"You'll have to face Anacrites."

"No trouble. He earned a packet too. He should have no complaints. Anyway, he ought to be fit again by now; he can go back to his old post."

"Ah, but he really liked working with you, Marcus! It's been the high spot of his life."

I growled. "You're a tease-and Anacrites is dumped."

"Are you really going to let my brother work with you if he comes to Rome?"

"A privilege. I always liked Quintus."

"I'm glad. I had an idea, Marcus. I talked about it to Claudia while she and I were waiting for you two to come back from your silphium jaunt, but it was when things between her and Quintus were so strained. That's why I never mentioned it…" She tailed off, which was not Helena's style.

"What idea?" I asked suspiciously.

"If Quintus and Claudia ever get married, Claudia and I should buy a shared house for us all to live in."

"I shall have enough money for you and I to live in comfort," I retorted stiffly.

"Quintus won't."

"That's his fault."

Helena sighed.

"Sharing only leads to arguments," I said.

"I had in mind," Helena proposed, "a house that would be big enough to seem like different properties. Separate wings-but common areas where Claudia and I could sit and mutter together when you and Quintus had gone out."

"If you want to moan about me, darling, you shall be given the right facilities!"

"Well, what do you think?"

"I think-" Inspiration hit me. "I had better not commit myself to anything until I discover what the bother is about these Sacred Geese."

"Chicken!" quipped Helena.

Things might have turned very awkward but just then one of our host's staff-who all seemed wary of my group-nervously announced that Helena had a visitor. Jumpy, for the reasons I have outlined, I asked tersely who it was. Assuming I was a stern paterfamilias who expected to vet his poor wife's every move (what a clown!), the slave told me with great diffidence that it was only a woman, one Euphrasia, wife to Saturninus, a principal figure in Lepcis social life. Helena Justina placed her feet neatly on a kickstool, folded her hands over her girdle, then looked at me meekly and enquiringly. I gravely granted permission for her to accept this call. Helena thanked me for my forbearance, addressing me in a gentle voice, while her huge brown eyes flashed sheer wickedness.

I whipped outside the room where she was sitting, and hid myself where I could overhear.

Fifty-six

"MY DEAR,HOW delightful!"

"What an unexpected privilege!"

"How do you come to be here?"

"How did you realize that I was?"

"My husband spotted some message scrawled up at the market about Falco being in this house-are you aware that my husband and I live in this city?"

"Well, I must have known-how thrilling! We have been having a terrible time-Falco has dragged me everywhere in Africa."

"Official business?"

"Oh Euphrasia, I don't ask!"

I choked, as Helena pretended to be a downtrodden, weary, excluded wife. If Euphrasia remembered the dinner party we attended, she cannot have been fooled.

"Is it to do with his Census work?" Euphrasia was intending to press the point, however hard Helena feigned disinterest.

I peeked through a door crack. Helena had her back to me, which was fortunate as it prevented any danger that one of us would start giggling. Euphrasia, resplendent in glowing stripes of scarlet and purple, a triumph of rich murex dyes, lolled in a long cane chair. She looked relaxed, though those handsome eyes were sharp and she displayed an inner tension that intrigued me. I wondered if Saturninus had sent her here, or whether he even knew that she had come.

Refreshments were sent for. Then the baby was sent for too. Julia Junilla let herself be passed around, kissed, pinched and tickled, had her little tunic straightened, had her fine wisps of hair ruffled, then when she was placed on a floor rug, she produced a bravura display of crawling and playing with dolls. Instead of screaming with disgust she hiccupped cutely. My daughter was a star.

"The darling! How old is she?"

"Not quite one." Julia's birthday was ten days away; another reason to try to reach home beforehand and placate her two doting grandmothers.

"She's charming-and so intelligent!"

"Takes after her father," said Helena, knowing I would be listening. I half expected her to go on with a few teasing insults, but she was probably preoccupied with wondering about the reason for Euphrasia's call.

"And how is dear Falco?"

"When I ever get to see him, he seems his usual self-deep in causes and schemes as usual." Even from my hiding place I thought Euphrasia's eyes narrowed. Helena would be close enough to tell for sure. "And how are you and your husband, Euphrasia?"

"Oh much happier. We had to get away from Rome, you know, Helena. All that squabbling and double-dealing was too much." That comment would include the domestic aftereffects of Euphrasia's affair with Rumex, no doubt. "The atmosphere in the provinces is far more pleasant; we may stay here permanently now-"

Helena was reclining gracefully in a similar chair to her guest. I could see one of her bare arms dangling casually. Its familiar smooth curve raised the hairs on my neck as I thought about tracing my finger along her skin in the way that made her arch her back and laugh… "Can your husband run his business from Tripolitania?"

"Oh yes. Anyway, I want him to retire." Women always say that, though not many are prepared to put up with cutting back on the housekeeping. "He's done enough. So what brings Falco to Lepcis Magna?"

Helena finally took pity: "He's working for a private client."

"Anyone I know?"

"Oh nothing terribly exciting. It's just a commission for a woman who needs help to bring a lawsuit, I believe."

"It seems a long way for you to come."

"We were out here for family reasons," Helena replied reassuringly.

Euphrasia ignored that. "I'm fascinated… however would your husband find a client in a strange province? Did he advertise?"

"Not at all." Helena was perfectly calm, in marked contrast to the other woman's obvious edginess. "We were on holiday. The client found us. She was somebody who had heard of Falco in Rome."

Euphrasia could no longer bear the suspense and came out with her question bluntly: "He's not working for that hard trout who was involved with Pomponius Urtica?"

"Do you mean Scilla?" asked Helena innocently.

"I know she wants to cause trouble," Euphrasia said, backing off slightly and becoming more offhand again. "She has been harassing my husband. I dare say she's been on at Calliopus too. We know he's in Lepcis," Euphrasia continued, now speaking bitterly. "With that wife of his, I hear. Artemisia has had a lot to answer for!"

"Why would that be?" asked Helena, in quiet astonishment. As far as we knew, all Artemisia had done was to let herself be married to Calliopus, a man who reckoned that being wealthy meant owning a full set of everything-including a mistress called Saccarina in Borealis Street. Euphrasia's accusatory tone seemed uncalled for. Mind you, I had now seen that Artemisia was young and beautiful, which many another woman would find unforgivable.

"Oh never mind her," Euphrasia said dismissively. "If Artemisia takes chances, Calliopus puts her right with his fist. If you ask me," she leaned forward, looking earnest, "Scilla's the one who intends to cause serious trouble. She's the maggot to watch."