I let her in, endured a quick greeting (she was a polite dog), then allowed her to jump on the bed, which was her real purpose. The whiskery fright was not allowed on beds or couches; that made no difference. Nux curled up and went to sleep. I washed my face, put a comb through my curls, dived into a favourite tunic. I was ill-shaven, hungry, stiff from travel and subdued. I had no casework I was aware of and would have to look for clients. In most respects I could have been back in the life I once led in Fountain Court. Once again, I felt mournful and bereft of my youth.

Downstairs, slaves saluted me with only mild disdain. A good breakfast and my alert assistants were waiting. My wife came in and kissed me. My children appeared in the doorway, made sure it was me, then ran off back to their games. A buffet slave refilled the bread basket with warm rolls as soon as I took a serving, poured hot water on to honey for me, cut smoked ham slices. The napkin laid upon my lap was fine linen. I drank from a smooth Samian beaker. When I came to rinse my hands again, scented water in a silver bowl was immediately offered to me.

I had forgotten I was rich. Helena saw my reaction; I noticed her amusement. ‘Jupiter!’

‘You’ll get used to it,’ she said, smiling.

My new status brought responsibilities. Clients were lined up, awaiting favours shamelessly.

I dealt briskly with Marina, wanting money of course, then ignored a message from my sister Junia about the caupona needing a refurbishment. Helena said there were queries at the auction house, not urgent; I could attend to them when I visited the Saepta. Next came another, much more serious, family problem. The usher (I now required one, it seemed) ushered in Thalia.

She was visibly pregnant, puffing slightly. It had not persuaded her to wear less revealing clothes. The two Camilli, waiting for me to be free for our planned meeting, exchanged startled glances. Arrayed in a few wafts of gauze and long strings of semiprecious beads, Thalia patted the bump that was supposed to be Pa’s offspring. ‘Not long now, Marcus!’

‘How are you feeling?’

‘Terrible! The python knows; he’s off colour, poor Jason.’

‘Still dancing?’

‘Still dancing! Are you hoping exertion will bring on a miscarriage?’

‘That would be irresponsible.’

‘Gods! Money has made you so sanctimonious!—Now listen, I need to talk to you.’

‘Well, make it quick. I’m about to begin a business meeting.’

‘Stuff that,’ replied Thalia. ‘A little child’s life is at stake here. We’ve been let down, Falco, this poor baby and me. I’ve had words with that scheming shark, Septimus Parvo—your devious father’s utterly useless lawyer.’

‘He seemed competent.’ Thalia’s annoyance was cheering me up now.