The Ides of April Read Free Page A

the building just before you came.’
    ‘Not that lout who nearly knocked me over on the step?’
    I thought something flickered in the archivist’s gaze but he answered calmly, ‘Oh that would have been our runner.’ He paused, then added, ‘Tiberius. Did you speak to him?’
    ‘No.’ Why would I? ‘He was a grim bastard. And what’s Faustus like?’
    ‘Couldn’t possibly comment. He is much too aware that I owe him this job.’
    ‘Not on good terms?’ I guessed.
    ‘Let’s say, if you think our runner is dour, you will not like Faustus.’
    Andronicus seemed keen to move on the conversation. He asked what brought me, so I explained about the accident in the Clivus Publicius and that notice calling for witnesses with Faustus’ name on it.
    ‘Sounds like him,’ Andronicus commented. ‘He’s quite a meddler.’
    ‘Well, I suppose it is his job . . . Have any witnesses shown up in response?’
    ‘Only you.’
    I smiled with the complicity we had developed between us so nicely. ‘I wouldn’t have come if I hadn’t been stuck . . . Are you going to mention me to Faustus?’
    ‘Why? You haven’t told me anything.’ Andronicus gave me his own conspiratorial grin. I did like dealing with this man. He came so much cheaper than the clerks I usually had to badger or bribe.
    ‘I want to ask a cheeky favour. If anyone does bring in a story, could you possibly let me know?’
    ‘Love to.’ Showing how keen he was, Andronicus then asked, ‘So where do I contact you?’
    I always considered this carefully. People can find my office; I could not work otherwise. But there was a difference between clients who were too preoccupied with whatever trouble they were already in to cause any other trouble, and chancers who might have tricky personal motives in coming after me.
    Andronicus worked for a magistrate. That guaranteed he was reliable, surely? I told him where I lived.
    Anyway, I had Rodan. ‘It’s a climb and not easy to find. But my doorman brings up visitors. Rodan will show you.’
    ‘Sounds exclusive!’
    I snorted. ‘That’s right. Fountain Court is the most exclusive slum on the Aventine.’ And he had not yet seen Rodan. I wouldn’t spoil the surprise.
    ‘Best you can do?’
    ‘I am only a poor widow.’ Never imply you have money.
    ‘Oh is that so?’ scoffed Andronicus. He sized up my outfit pointedly. I like a man who sees through banter. Indeed, I like a man who notices that you have dressed nicely to meet him. Still, he had not gained the full measure of me. Not yet. ‘And what is your name when I ask for you?’
    ‘Flavia Albia. Just ask for Albia. Everyone knows me.’ A lot of people did, though ‘everyone’ was pushing it. This was another ploy for protection that I had learned; it gave the impression there might be many people looking out for me.
    I said I had to be going. He said he had enjoyed meeting me. More people were now arriving for official reasons, so I saw myself out, which seemed to be procedure in that office. In mine, I like to be quite sure visitors have left, but Andronicus did not need such precautions.
    So, no aedile. That had been a wasted trip, like so many others. I was used to it. In the street I paused, turning up my face to the Roman sky. Heard the hubbub surrounding me on the Aventine and also coming from far away all over the city. Smelt hot oil on lunchtime griddles. Felt the oppression of the Temple of Ceres, gloomily shadowing the street.
    Mentally I apologised to my romantic little sisters. Despite my smart get-up I would not be meeting the love of my life this afternoon. Nevertheless I had just had an extremely pleasant experience. That was an improvement on normal.
    In any case, I had met the love of my life already, met him long, long ago. You will not be surprised, any more than I was at the wise age of seventeen, that the man toyed with me, then dropped me when he feared it might be serious. The pain had not lasted; I soon met and married Farm