“I’m sure you must have picked up a few tricks at the Wolf Den,” Drauca says. “But have any of you had a man in water?” None of Felix’s women reply. “Just try not to drown. That’s my advice.”

“Is she serious?” Beronice whispers, as Drauca and Attice laugh. “I don’t want some idiot sticking my head underwater.”

“She’s just being a bitch,” Amara says, though the threat of drowning has done nothing to calm her own nerves. It’s an ugly secret she carries, the panic which so often threatens to overwhelm her. A terrible sensation of being unable to breathe, unable to move. The horror began that first time with Chremes and has never left her. It’s bad enough when it happens with a customer in her cell. She couldn’t bear the humiliation of crying here, in front of Drauca.

She looks round the room for the others. Dido and Cressa haven’t joined them in the water but are sitting on a marble bench not far from the side of the pool. Felix sent for Dido this morning while Amara was in the Forum. The thought makes her feel guilty in ways she cannot explain. Dido hasn’t said what happened, but Amara knows she is upset. She looks like a wounded bird. Not that the customers will care. Dido’s vulnerability always seems to attract the greediest men, like wasps to honey.

“I suppose coming here makes a lovely change for you,” Victoria says to Drauca. “A break from all that slopping out and changing the sheets when customers have pissed in them.” She turns to Beronice and Amara in mock sympathy. “Imagine working all hours in a bar and having to screw the customers! Exhausting!”

“Fuck you,” says Attice. “At least our master isn’t a total shit. When was the last time Felix-the-tight-arse let you keep any tips?”

“You’re right he does have a tight arse,” Victoria replies. “A hard, tight arse, like an apple. Such a shame we have to serve a master who looks like Apollo. I’d so much rather be squashed under fat old Simo with his bad breath and bald patch.”

“Yeah, must be brilliant for you all,” Maria says. She points at Dido, raising her voice. “That one looks like she’s loving life.”

Dido turns her face away, in no mood to fight back, but Cressa is angry. “Why don’t you just keep your big mouth shut?” She flaps a hand at Maria. “As if you’ve never cried over a man. Sure, Felix is a dick. So is Simo. Big deal.”

“Simo might be a dick,” Drauca sighs, turning her pretty face to look out over the sea as if she’s bored. “But at least he tips. That’s the point.”