`Of course it must be a mistake,' I raved bitterly. It was time somebody stood up to Pa. `We all think she's in bed with the lodger – but perhaps it's much more disgusting: she may be secretly getting back together with you.'

`Now there's an idea! Think she would wear it?' Pa never had any sense – or any tact, either. He leaned across the bar table urgently. `So what's the real story with Anacrites?'

`Don't ask me. I've been forbidden any scandalous speculation. I'm not stupid enough to risk it now.'

`This is dreadful, son.'

I was close to agreeing, then found myself wondering – as Ma would do – what possible connection there could be with him.

`Come off it, Pa. That it's the spy is horrible enough and it's certainly bloody dangerous – but you have a nerve interfering with Mother nowadays.'

`Don't be pious!'

`Nor you then.'

`She says she is entitled to a private life – and she's right. Maybe she's doing it just to annoy other people.'

`Me, for instance?' muttered Pa darkly.

`How did you guess? Who knows what's really going on. Mother always enjoyed a situation where everyone else was going frantic, while she just let them think whatever they liked.'

`But not if it involves that creep Anacrites!'

'Ah well.' I tried viewing it philosophically. `He has been behaving too well lately. It was time he did something in character again.'

`Screwing your mother?' Pa sneered crudely. `It's revolting -' He suddenly thought of a fine excuse for his own pompous attitude: `I'm thinking about my grandchildren – especially baby Julia. She has a connection to the Senate; she cannot have her dear little reputation soiled by scandal.'

`Don't bring my daughter into it. I'll protect Julia Junilla if it's ever needed.'

`You couldn't protect a chickpea,' said Pa, in his usual affectionate way. He craned his head, checking me over for bruises. `I hear you were thrashed again last night?'

`You mean I saved the life of Petronius Longus, stayed alive myself, and rid Rome of a bullying piece of dirt the size of a small house.' `Time you grew up, son.'

`Look who is talking! After walking out twenty-five years ago, and after all the floozies you have bedded before and since, coming to preach at Mother today is just grotesque.'

`I don't care what you think.' He drained his cup. I started to drain mine in a similar gesture. Then I slowed down and deliberately made the move delicate, so as not to look like him. The thoughtful, moderate one in the family. (The unbearable, good-natured bastard, my father would say.)

I stood up. `Well, I've quarrelled with both my parents now. That's enough grief for one day. I'm off.' Pa had leapt up even faster than I did.' I felt nervous. `Now what are you up to?'

`I'm going to have it out.'

`Don't be so stupid!' The thought of him broaching Ma on this subject was so ghastly I nearly brought up the wine I had drunk. `Have some self-respect. Well, self-preservation, anyway. She won't thank you.'

`She won't know anything about it,' came his rejoinder. `Her boyfriend keeps office hours, presumably – well, he won't be out taking risks, not him. He'll have a nice cool nook to hide in – which is about to become hotter than he'll like. Goodbye now, son. I can't hang about here!'

When Geminus stormed off, I had no choice: I paid the bill for our drinks, then, keeping at a safe distance, hopped after him.

I thought I was the expert at Palace ceremonial. Vespasian believed he had instituted a new approachable system in his court. This Emperor allowed anyone to see him who wanted to present a petition or a crackpot idea; he had even discontinued the old practice of having all supplicants searched for weapons. Naturally, the main result of this casual attitude was that chamberlains and guards had become hysterical behind his back. To get past the supposedly relaxed operatives who now ran the Palatine could take hours.

I knew some of the people who worked there; I had also held on to various passes that I had acquired during official missions. Even so, when I reached the suite where Anacrites lurked, Pa must have got in ahead of me. The Chief Spy's office was in a dim, unpromising corridor, otherwise occupied by absentee auditors. It was a place of open doors looking onto dusty rooms with unoccupied clerks' benches and occasional stored old thrones. Anacrites usually kept his own door firmly closed, so nobody would see if he nodded off while waiting for his lackadaisical runners to bother to report in.

He had dangerous status. Officially, he worked on detachment to the Praetorian Guard, even though they never supplied him with anyone in armour to flank his office doorway. As top dog in intelligence, he might be incompetent in my eyes, yet he ranked high. Only a fool, therefore, would march in here and take him to task on a personal issue.

My heart sank as I approached. Too many observers were wandering about. There were pale-faced little slaves trotting past on errands. Other bureaucrats were sitting bored in other offices. Despite the carefree regime at the Emperor's private quarters, in these areas there were soldiers on full alert. From time to time, Anacrites' own personnel might appear. They were a seedy lot, and probably owed him favours. As a spy, the least he could do as a manager was to ensure he had bought his own team's loyalty with spare cash from the bribes fund.

From the far end of the corridor I could hear irately raised voices. My father had barged into the sanctum with his blood up. Things sounded even trickier than I had feared. I rushed down and stormed in. Anacrites looked frigid with indignation and Pa was bouncing on his heels, red-faced and roaring insults.

`Didius Geminus, get a grip,' I hissed. `Don't be damned foolish, Pa!'

`Bugger off- don't prate at me!'

`Leave it alone, you idiot -'

`No fear! I'm going to do this bastard.'

Suddenly it was my crazed parent and me having the set-to, while Anacrites himself just stood aloof, looking bemused.

`Oh settle down, Pa! It's none of your business, and you don't even know if it's true.'

`Whether it's true doesn't matter,' roared Pa. `People should not be saying these terrible things about your mother-'

Anacrites went white, as if he finally saw the problem. My father was now dancing like a rather flighty boxer. I grabbed at his arm. He flung me off. `Stop it! If you calm down, you may discover the worst Anacrites has done is to lose Ma's savings in a bank that failed.'

Whoops! At that, Pa became incandescent. `Lost her savings? That will be my money you're talking about! I know for sure your mother has always refused to spend what I keep sending her -'

He was right, and I should have kept quiet. He blew up. Before I could stop him, he rounded again on Anacrites, balled his fist and took a wild swing at the spy.