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Ode To A Banker Part 25

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'For a matchmaker's pay-off,' I told her bluntly, 'the price is extortionate. As a banker by proxy, I am astonished that Lysa agreed.' No reaction. 'Now that you are a lone woman living without masculine protection, what, may I ask, are you doing about your stepson's childhood room?'

Vibia was well ahead of me. 'Obviously it is no longer respectable for him to come here. People might suggest something scandalous. This letter I am writing'- she produced the doc.u.ment she had been frowning over when I first walked in - 'says Diomedes must remove his things - and not come here again.'

'Such concern for propriety. His bride will be grateful to you, Vibia!'

She was very anxious to distract me. By chance, it seemed, the young lady had lifted her arm onto the back of the reading couch and her richly beringed hand had lolled against my left shoulder. Was it chance, or was Fortune for once looking after me? Now, with a faint jingle from a delightful silver bracelet, her small fingers began slowly moving, caressing my shoulderbone as if she were unaware of doing it. Oh very nice. She was definitely moving in on me. Feminine wiles. As if I had not encountered enough of them in my career.

I leaned back my head, like a man who was perplexed, and fell silent. Then, just as the fingertips began exploring that sensitive, rather tingly area of my neck where the tunic edge met my hairline, Pa.s.sus knocked on the door. I breathed a sigh of relief - or was it regret?



'I'm just off now, Falco.' He had a scroll bundle with him. 'This is the stuff you wanted -'

'Thanks, Pa.s.sus.' Both of us managed not to grin, as I jumped up from the couch and collected the scrolls from him. 'I'm finished here.' That was one way of putting it. 'I'll walk along with you. Vibia Merulla, thank you for your help.'

I bade a rapid farewell to the widow, and safely fled.

x.x.xIX.

AGAIN, I decided against lunch at the Clivus Publicius popina, part from not wanting to give Pa.s.sus the idea that I dallied atfood stalls - where Petronius and the rest were bound to have told him informers flocked like summer pests. I could now see two of the scriptorium authors leaning on the bar. Had it been the playwright or the love poet, Urba.n.u.s or Constrictus, I would have gone down there and joined them but it was the gangling Scrutator spouting at the flashily dressed Turius. Not in the mood for either, I went the other way, up towards the crest of the Aventine and home. There I invited Helena out for an early lunch at a more local eatery.

'Falco, you have a shifty look about you!'

'Certainly not.'

'What have you been doing?'

'Talking to Pa.s.sus about literature.'

'Lying dog,' she said Even when I gave her the scrolls to read she still looked suspicious for some reason. She leaned over and sniffed my shoulder; my heart pounded a little. I dragged her out to eat before the interrogation became too drastic.

Flora's Caupona was always quiet, though not normally as tense as we found it today. A couple of self-effacing regulars were sitting up straight at the inside table obediently waiting for their order. Apollonius, the waiter, walked forward to welcome us. He was a retired teacher - in fact, he had taught me at school. We never mentioned that. With his usual dignity, he ignored the peculiar atmosphere, as if he had not noticed it.

'We have lentils or chickpeas today, Falco.'

'Jupiter, you're taking the pulse regulations seriously.' Most other food stalls had probably just disguised their pots of fish and meat by leaving them off the chalked-up menu.

'Or perhaps something cold?' he enquired.

'Something cold!' Helena gasped. It was so hot outside, we couldhardly move two yards without sweat drenching us. 'Junia, just because the edict says you can only serve pulses hot, doesn't mean you are forced to provide steaming porridges even in August!'

My sister clasped her hands upon the spotless pot-counter. (Not her effort; Apollonius took a strange pride in his demeaning work.) 'We can make you a salad specially - seeing as you are family,' she condescended primly.

Her son was playing with a model ox-cart where a second table had once stood. We put Julia down with Marcus Baebius and they soon started screaming at each other noisily. I waited for the customers to leave because of the racket. They stuck it out like a bunch of stubborn thick-ribbed limpets that had been excrescences on a harbour groin for twenty years.

Helena and I took a bench outside, the only remaining seat. Junia had made Apollonius prepare the salad, so she came out to patronize us.

'How are you two getting on? When is that cradle going to be occupied again?' Helena stiffened. From now on, she would go to enormous lengths to keep her pregnancy from Junia. 'And how is that wonderful new house of yours?'

'Are you trying to make us weep?' Helena demanded, freely acknowledging that the house purchase - her purchase - was a bad mistake. 'Apart from the fact we are lumbered with the worst building-contractors in Rome - recommended by your father - I have now realised it is far too distant from the city for Marcus to do his work properly.'

'Father is talking about selling up,' suggested Junia. 'Why don't you do a swap with him?'

Neither of us answered her, though we both had difficulty withholding our delight at the idea of Pa having to deal with Gloccus and Cotta. Even if this had been the best solution possible - and if there was any chance Pa would agree to do it - we would still not have allowed Junia the triumph of suggesting it.

'I'll mention your interest to Pa,' she said bossily. 'By the way, did you know Maia has persuaded him to let her work at the warehouse?'

'Goodness,' murmured Helena. 'Whoever would have thought of that?'

'She won't stick it out,' Junia decided.

'Wait and see,' I replied, trying to remain calm 'I'll remind you of that statement in ten years' time, Junia, when Maia has become a top-notch antiques expert and the Favonius auction house leads the profession under her shrewd guidance.'

'What a joker,' said Junia. Silently, I willed Mercury the G.o.d of commerce to make Flora's Caupona go broke.

Apollonius brought our food then, so Junia broke off to mention little errors he had made in seasoning the salad, and to suggest clever ways he could serve it more elegantly next time. He thanked her gravely. I caught his eye, then had to shove spring onions into my mouth quickly to cover up my grin.

'Jupiter, sister - this is a one-s.n.a.t.c.h food-bar, not a palace dining room.'

'Try not to talk with your mouth so full Marcus. And don't tell me how to do my job.' After two weeks, she was the expert. Helena kicked me, as a signal not to upset myself arguing. Junia rea.s.sumed her regal position, leaning on the inside counter. She could not resist a final dig: 'You want to have a sharp word with Mother - about that man Anacrites.'

This time I crammed a large piece of sorrel into my mouth to annoy her deliberately, before answering: 'Ma knows what I think.'

Junia tossed her head angrily. 'She cannot know what other people are saying.'

'I don't know myself. What are you talking about?'

'Oh, don't play the innocent.'

I had a bad feeling. I tried not replying.

'Well, for one thing,' Junia enjoyed telling me, 'he has persuaded Mother to give him all her savings to invest.'

'Shush! Don't discuss our family affairs so publicly.' For once, I was happy our children were making such a racket.

This was a shock. I had been unaware Ma had any savings with which she wanted to speculate. At my side, Helena moved slightly, almost as if she had expected something else to be said. Whatever she thought, she was noticeably keeping quiet. Now she reached over me to where Apollonius had set down the breadbasket and took a roll. Then she involved herself in breaking it into very neat pieces, which she slowly ate. Flora's Caupona had always specialised in very doughy rolls. What looked like seeds on the top, usually turned out to be grit.

After chewing and swallowing my sorrel leaf to give myself reaction time, I pointed out to Junia that if Ma had been pinching back a few coppers every week from her housekeeping, it could hardly amount to much. She had brought up seven children unaided, then even after we left home she let herself be drawn into helping out the mostf.e.c.kless and hopeless of her offspring. Our elder brother Festus set the standard for sponging before he was killed in the East. I looked after his daughter financially, but various grandchildren were being shod, fed, and in some cases pushed through basic schooling by their devoted grandmother. She had two brothers (three if you counted the one who had sensibly run away); from them she cadged country vegetables, but otherwise our family offered few possibilities to recoup her generosity. Pa gave her a small annuity. I had always paid her rent.

Junia came outside again and whispered a huge figure that she thought our mother's nest egg might amount to. I whistled. 'How did she collect that together?'

Still, Ma always was tenacious. She bailed me out of prison once; I knew she could call on spare cash somewhere. I imagined she hid it in her mattress the way old women are supposed to do to help burglars find it easily.

'What has Anacrites done with this money, Junia?' Helena asked, looking concerned.

'He put it in some bank he uses.'

'What - the Golden Horse? The Aurelius Chrysippus outfit?' I was now horrified. I did not care where Anacrites shoved his cash, but enough questions hung over the Golden Horse to make anybody else now shun the place. 'Has Anacrites told Ma that the proprietor was recently found dead in suspicious circ.u.mstances - and that there is a suggestion of devious practice?'

'Oh, Ju-no!' drawled my sister loudly. 'Well, that's Mother in trouble! I must tell her at once - she'll be devastated!'

'Just advise her quietly,' I warned. The bank is perfectly solvent as far as I know. Anacrites was talking to me about removing his own cash in view of these problems - but that's privileged information. I presume if he withdraws his own funds, he will do the same for Ma.'

It rankled that my mother had turned to Anacrites for investment advice. It rankled even more that he had known her financial position when I, her only son, did not.

Junia had sat down and was now posing, chin on one hand, looking thoughtful. 'Of course, maybe it would be better not to say anything to Mother after all.'

'Why ever not?' Helena's voice was sharp. She hated people acting irresponsibly. 'Somebody ought to warn Junilla Tacita. She can make up her own mind what she does about the situation - or better still, she can ask Marcus for advice.'

'No, I don't think so,' Junia decided.

'Don't be coy, Junia,' I said lazily. I hardly paid her any attention; I was intending to warn Ma about the bank myself. 'What's on your mind then?'

Being Junia, she could not bear to keep a nasty premise to herself. 'If Ma was to lose money because of Anacrites, it might put a stop to something worse.'

'Worse than Ma losing her savings?' I was coughing over a radish - not only because it was hot.

'Don't pretend you don't know,' sneered my sister. 'Everybody on the Aventine is speculating why Anacrites is living at our mother's house. Once their curiosity is aroused, people will find answers for themselves, you know.'

'What answers? And what's the d.a.m.ned question, anyway?'

The slow heat of indignation had already started burning before Junia told me what she believed the scandal-mongers thought: 'Oh Marcus! The gossips around every fountain are saying that Anacrites is our mother's fancy man.'

I had eaten enough of their brown-edged greenery and swallowed enough of Junia's irresponsible bile. I stood up. Without even looking at me, Helena was already collecting Julia.

As a gesture of farewell, the only one I could bear to distribute, I nodded to Apollonius for old times' sake. I set down the reckoning and left him a large tip. It would be some time before I allowed myself to visit Flora's after this.

'I am impressed by your nose for gossip, Junia. You have given me a lot to think about - and it's a long time since I heard anything so utterly ridiculous.'

'Well, let's face it, Marcus,' replied my sister callously, 'you may call yourself an informer. But when it comes to collecting information, you are absolutely useless!'

'I don't collect irresponsible chit-chat!' I retaliated, and we left.

XL.

WE HAD walked nearly all the way home before I stopped dead in the street and exploded. Helena waited patiently until I stopped ranting.

'I don't believe it!'

'Well, why are you making so much fuss, Marcus?'

'I won't have my mother insulted.'

We were outside the poulterer's in Fountain Court by now. n.o.body paid any attention. They were used to me. Anyway, it was midday in August. Those who could had fled to the country. Those who could not were lying p.r.o.ne wishing they could go too.

Perspiration poured off me. My tunic was sticking to my back.

Helena said slowly, 'You don't know whether it is true or not. But you ought to allow the possibility that a woman of your mother's age - any age - may enjoy masculine company. With so many children, she cannot ever have had a cold disposition. She has lived without your father for a long time now, Marcus. She might, she just might actually want someone in her bed.'

'You're as disgusting as Junia.'

'If it was a man with a young girl, you would be thrilling with envy,' snapped Helena. She took our daughter and set off for our apartment, leaving me to do as I pleased.

I had to follow; I was raging with more furious questions. 'What do you know about all this? Is it true? What has Ma said to you? Have the pair of you been giggling over this sweet romance?'

'We have not. Look - there may be nothing in it.'

'Ma has said nothing?'

'She wouldn't.'

'Women always talk to each other.'

'About the men in their lives? Wrong on two counts, Marcus - the ones who chatter are probably discussing men they would like as lovers but can't get, or else men that they have lost. And some never say anything. Maia, for instance. Or me,' said Helena.

She turned back to me from our staircase.

'You never talked to other women about me?' I managed to calm down enough to find a feeble grin. 'I wasn't worth it, eh?'

Helena also relaxed. 'Too important,' she said. In case the flattery went to my head, she added, 'Who would have believed it, anyway?'

'Anyone who ever saw us together, my love.'

Then Helena suddenly tweaked my nose. 'Well, don't worry. If you run off and leave me the way your father left your mother, I shall probably replace you - but like your mother I shall probably wait twenty years and be utterly discreet.'

It was no consolation. I could imagine Helena Justina doing just that.

I could have rushed straight off to see Ma there and then, and it would have probably been disastrous. Luckily, we were hailed cheerily from a balcony above us on the other side of the alley; to ensure our attention, Petronius Longus chucked down an old boot he kept upstairs for that purpose. Helena went indoors, while I waited. Being Petro, once he could see that I had stopped, he took his time.

'Playing the tribune still, Petronius? Come along! I don't have all day.'

'Whatever's the matter with you, Falco?'

'I'm b.l.o.o.d.y annoyed with my sister.'

'Oh, not Maia and Anacrites again?' he returned dourly. I felt so frustrated I literally tore my hair.

'Junia!' I yelled.

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Ode To A Banker Part 25 summary

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