I shouldered my luggage and set off for home. I hauled my stuff round the back of the Capitol, mentally saluting the Temple of Juno Moneta, patron of my much-needed cash. This brought me into the Aventine at the starting-gate end of the Circus Maximus; I paused, thinking briefly of my pathetic nag, and more seriously of Pertinax. By then my bags were dragging on my neck, so I stopped at my sister Galla's house for a rest and a word with Larius.
I had forgotten Galla would be furious about my nephew's future plans.
'You promised to look after him,' she greeted me ferociously. Fending off her younger children, four dedicated scavengers who could instantly spot an uncle who might have presents in his backpack, I kissed Galla. 'What's that for?' she growled at me. 'If you're looking for dinner there's only tripe!'
'Oh thanks! I love tripe!' Untrue, as all my family knew, but I was ravenous. Tripe was all there ever was at Galla's house. Her street possessed a tripe-and-trotter stall, and she was a lazy cook. 'What's the problem with Larius? I sent him home fit, sane and happy, in possession of a fat little girlfriend who knows what she wants from him-plus a famous reputation for saving drowning men.'
'A fresco painter!' Galla jibed in disgust.
'Why not? He's good at it, it fetches in the money, and he'll always be in work.'
'I might have known if there was a chance of him being pushed into something stupid, I could rely on you! His father,' complained my sister pointedly, 'is extremely upset!'
I gave my sister my opinion of the father of her children, and she mentioned that if I felt like that I was not obliged to loaf on her sun terrace eating her food.
Home again! Nothing like it. Spooning in the unctuous offal, I smiled quietly to myself.
Larius turned up, not before I was ready for him, and helped me with my luggage the rest of the way: a chance to talk. 'How was the journey, Larius?'
'We managed.'
'Petronius find it hard going? Is he all right?'
'You know him; he never makes a fuss.'
My nephew seemed rather tight-lipped. 'What about you?' I persisted.
'Nothing worries me either. Are you going to ask about your lady-love?'
'As soon as I have a rest and a trip to the bath-house I intend to see my lady-love for myself. Why? If there is something I should know first, come out with it!'
Larius shrugged.
We had reached the Ostia Road. I was nearly back on my own midden. I halted in the loggia of a coldmeat shop; it was closed but the smell of smoked hams and preservative herbs lingered tauntingly. I screwed the neckbraid of my nephew's tunic angrily round one hand. 'The word is, Pertinax may have come to Rome. Is it something about him that you don't want to say to me?'
'Uncle Marcus, nothing happened.' He shook me off. 'Helena Justina was unwell some of the time, but Silvia looked after her. Anyone can be a poor traveller-'
I had once journeyed fourteen hundred miles in Helena's calm, uncomplaining company; I knew exactly how good a traveller she was. I felt my mouth twist. I wondered what I had come home to. Then, before I let myself start guessing, I swung up my baggage and started down the narrow alley that led to the old familiar odours of Fountain Court.