LIV

Helena had vanished. I wanted to find her, but I had told Aufidius Crispus I would wait in the colonnade.

For no obvious reason, I started walking along the veranda, away from the main body of the house. Only when I was beyond the sounds of other people, where a few desultory lamps lit the shadows, did I stop.

I stood still, hearing sea water rippling against a small pier thrust out into the Bay. From what Crispus had said about me being an odd messenger, I knew that however approachable he had appeared at our interview, he despised me. So long as Vespasian employed me, Crispus would despise Vespasian too.

The weight of my inability to influence him was suddenly too much. I lost all faith in myself. I needed a friend to console me, but now that Helena had taken herself off I was completely alone.

Sharp footsteps rang in the distance. Crispus emerged swiftly from his room. He was in front of the main building; I was in one wing, further back from the sea. I could see him but he was too far away to catch as he strode off.

I could have called out. There was no point. He made no attempt to look for me. He had reached his decision: Vespasian's letter would receive no reply. I had believed the man could be deflected from his purpose; but if so, it was evident that the messenger who achieved this tricky task would not be me.

I never give up that easily. I set off after him.

The scene indoors had grown disorganized during my absence. I found no one with sufficient command of their senses to ask which direction Crispus had taken. Thinking he might be collecting Aemilia Fausta, I headed back to the triclinium where I had seen her last. She was there, still looking lonely; he was not.

This time she spotted me. 'Didius Falco!'

'Madam-' I stepped across the prone figures of several young gentlemen who had been having a better time tonight than their aristocratic constitutions could endure. 'Seen Crispus?'

'Not recently,' admitted Fausta, with a close look which implied suspicions relating to dancing girls. Feeling thwarted myself, I sat down to be sociable. 'You look depressed, Falco!'

'I am!' I leaned my elbows on my knees, rubbing my eyes. 'I deserve a rest; I want to go home; I need an affectionate woman to tuck me into bed with a beaker of milk!'

Fausta laughed. 'Nutmeg or cinnamon? In your milk?'

I laughed too, reluctantly. 'Nutmeg, I think.'

'Oh yes; cinnamon turns grainy if it stands…' We had nothing in common. The pleasantries petered out.

'Seen Helena Justina?' I felt restless. I wanted to consult Helena about what had happened after she had left.

'Oh, Helena went off with my brother. Something far too private to need any witnesses!' Fausta warned me in an arch tone as I started to my feet. A knot formed in my windpipe; I tried to ignore it. The magistrate's sister smiled at me with a silkiness that said she was a hungry sea anemone and I was a drifting shrimp. 'Helena Justina will not thank you if you intrude-'

'She's used to it. I worked for her once.'

'Oh Falco, don't be so innocent!'

'Why?' I forced out, still making conversation. 'What's her secret?'

'She sleeps with my brother,' Fausta proclaimed.

•

I did not believe her. I knew Helena Justina better than that. There were many men Helena might let her fancy light upon, but I was absolutely certain that brilliant, blond, rangy, successful magistrates-who ignored their escorts at dinner parties-were not her type.

At that moment Helena and Aemilius Rufus came together into the room.

And I believed it after all.

He had his arm tightly round her. Either Helena needed support for some reason, or the magistrate liked holding her. I could not blame him; I liked holding Helena myself.

As Rufus billowed through the door, like a gorgeous crocus in his saffron dinner robe, he bent that golden head towards hers and murmured some intimacy. I could only escape from the room by smacking straight past them, so I stood where I was with my head tipped back. Then Helena exchanged replies with Rufus, who signalled to me.

I walked across, coolly.

Aemilius Rufus inflicted on me his easy-going, meaningless smile. I spared myself the trouble of making a mess of his mouth. No need to hurt my fist. If this was what the lady wanted, no point causing a scene. He had the rank (which did not bother me) but he also had the lady. I could only get the worst of it.

Helena stayed silent and downcast while Rufus took the lead: a strong woman letting herself be made submissive by a conventional man. She was wasting herself on him. Still, most of them do.

It was Rufus who spoke: 'I gather you act as Helena's bodyguard from time to time; she needs you now.' From his lazy manner, he was trying to disguise some disaster I was too low to be told about.

I hate being patronized. 'Too many prior commitments,' I refused him stubbornly.

Helena knew when I was angry, especially with her. 'Didius Falco!' she appealed to me formally. 'We have heard something here tonight; if it is true it's unbelievable. I must talk to you-' A train of revellers suddenly crashed into the room, knocking the three of us sideways. 'Not here-' she frowned in helplessness, above the influx of noise.

I shrugged. I wanted to leave anyway. If Crispus intended taking Fausta home on his yacht, he had left me a free agent for the rest of the night.

Rufus released Helena. 'I'll arrange for your chair.'

He left the room ahead of us. 'Found someone to ease your troubles, I see!' I sneered at Helena. In the lamplight her eyes had grown as dark as olives; they met mine in surging distress at my callous tone. Her unspoken reproach troubled me unexpectedly.

Helena walked quickly after the magistrate; I strode alongside. When we came into the atrium Rufus waved to say his orders were in hand, then went off in another group. Theirs must be a long-standing, casual affair, I reflected bitterly. She and I waited outside, where there was a sea breeze and more peace.

The air was cool, though still pleasant. Even I could admit the Bay of Neapolis was one of the most elegant quirks of geography in the Empire. Extremely civilized by starlight. I saw its fabled attraction. As the summer wavelets lapped a few paces away, I could even imagine why other daft people thought so highly of the sea.

It was a bland, beautiful night and I had nothing left to do with it but share the peace and the starlit scenery with the girl at my side-who had once been so sweet and soft and mysteriously friendly towards me but who tonight was herself: a senator's daughter and the mistress of a magistrate, completely cut off from a bug like me.