‘Useless boy, two insipid girls. Galla was terrified their father would lose interest, especially if Mucia Lucilia were to bear children who might supplant hers.’

A reasonable fear. Many an older father prefers the fresh little infants of his still-warm second marriage to the ruder, more demanding children of a troubled first union. Galla’s three were old enough to have gone through their charmless adolescence, which can leave permanent bad feeling; in any case, Aviola may never have known his children well. Babies lie in their cradles blowing bubbles like helpless darlings who won’t cost any money, or cause family quarrels, or ever stop loving their besotted papa … Meanwhile the determined second wives are right on the scene, constantly reinforcing the new brood’s claims.

‘Galla Simplicia is a shrewd woman?’

‘Brutally,’ snarled Hermes.

‘Even so, to want two people dead seems extraordinary, let alone make it happen in such a terrible way. Are you certain Galla would do that?’

‘Absolutely!’ he assured me.

Without enthusiasm, I mused aloud that I would now have to trek to Campania, in order to interview this woman. Hermes barked with harsh laughter. According to him, Galla Simplicia would have heard that Aviola was dead, and was bound to be hot-footing it to Rome to make a claim on the estate.

‘Sit tight and you will soon meet her, whirling in to cause trouble!’

I could hardly wait.

15

I returned to Sextus Simplicius’ house, with angry words in mind, but he was ‘not at home’. I bet he had gone out on purpose, in case I came racing back to roar at him for withholding information. Alternatively, he was in, but not to me – hiding behind a door until I went away. I hoped he got cramp.

It was the steward who spoke to me. It would be wrong for me to inform him he might be displaced by Polycarpus, but he seemed shrewd. I suspected he knew his job was threatened. I felt sorry for him, and I wondered if an unhappy man might open up.

I sighed, genuinely weary. ‘Oh dear. I am running around in circles over this Aviola business. I just learned about his ex-wife, Galla Simplicia, and I desperately need to ask your master for more details. There is a rumour she is troublesome, and on her way to Rome.’ The steward, Gratus, smiled slightly. ‘I need some background, Gratus, before I have to run up against her … Still, I won’t ask you questions that you shouldn’t answer.’ Of course I planned to do just that.

Gratus, who was slim and rather elegant, opened his hands in an ironic gesture. ‘Flavia Albia, I cannot possibly give an opinion of the lady … and I warn you, my master won’t spill secrets.’