The Ides of April (41 page)

His excuse was not one I expected. ‘It would be more than enjoyable. But you know what would happen. Afterwards, we would be hiding down alleys to avoid each other. I liked working with you, Albia. I had hoped that in future we might help one another again. Let’s stay friends.’

That hideous cliché. Any woman understands what it really means.

I know to this day that if I had kissed him, he would not have resisted. But I smiled and stepped back, releasing us both from pressure.

I thought back to the day when I first went to see him, when I visited the Temple of Ceres and bumped into Faustus on the threshold of the aediles’ office. I had dressed to impress a magistrate, amusing myself with how my sisters believed that when you go to that much trouble you will meet somebody special . . .

His interest in me as a colleague had a kind of innocence. I knew better. In Rome, you cannot overturn the rules. Still, the man possessed a good heart. He had, after all, taken it upon himself to write up that wall poster, calling for witnesses to the death of little Lucius Bassus. In our bleak world, where most people and few magistrates had consciences, such decency was indeed special.

I told him I was going to the coast; he looked disappointed. I said I would be back before long and his face cleared.

‘Do you always have breakfast at the Stargazer?’

‘Most days.’

‘Maybe I could come along and join you sometimes.’

‘Well, you know where it is.’

He would be a no-show; he was fooling himself in the aftermath of a case we had both hated. I left it to him, whether he made good the promise. Working together again would be acceptable, if it ever happened.

So we parted in the Armilustrium, rueful and chaste. The aedile turned towards his uncle’s house. I made my way alone to Fountain Court.

During this period some persons made a business of smearing needles with poison and then pricking with them whomsoever they would. Many persons who were thus attacked died without even knowing the cause, but many of the murderers were informed against and punished.

Dio Cassius,
Roman History, Epitome Book 67