"Scandal takes a Holiday" - читать интересную книгу автора (Davis Lindsey)

XI

Albia was playing with the children, head down, not meeting anybody's eye. For once, the two little girls were keeping very quiet. My brother-in-law Aulus was acting unconcerned, as if whatever had happened was none of his fault; he greeted me with a silent grimace, then stuck his head in a note-tablet. I could not even see Nux. They all seemed grateful that I had come home, to fend off the ballistics and rescue them. Helena Justina continued for a moment to slice leeks on an unpleasant wooden board we had inherited with the apartment. Leeks are an Ostia speciality. I had been promised my favourite recipe. It looked as if grit would be left in among the fronds. On purpose.

Helena, dear heart! Shall I go out and come in again, more contrite?"

Are you suggesting there is something wrong, Falco?"

Of course not, fruit. I would just like to make it plain I never touched that barmaid, whatever the girl may be saying, and if somebody has left a dead rat in the gutter overflow, it wasn't me; that is absolutely not my idea of something funny." Helena took a long, deep breath, and looked up from her knifework with a stare that said she was considering the barmaid suggestion very, very thoroughly. Maybe that joke had been too big a risk. She was still holding the knife. I really could not think of any reason to feel guilty, so I stayed quiet and looked meek. Not too meek. Helena was easily irritated. She was still holding her breath too; now she let it all out, extremely slowly. Nobody should be blamed for their family," she announced.

Ah!" It was one of my relatives. No surprise. I could have run through the possibilities mentally, but there were far too many.

Your sister came," said Helena, as if it had nothing to do with the atmosphere.

Maia?" I did not even bother to mention Allia or Galla. They were useless lumps who tried to borrow things, but they were safe in Rome.

Junia." Right. Junia came back. How typical. Whatever she did or said, I apologise for her, dearest."

It wasn't what she did," snarled Helena, my mild, tolerant, diplomatic partner. It never is what Junia does. It's what she damn well is. It's how she sits there in her neat outfit, with her careful jewels, and her struggling son in his very clean tunic, and her slobbering dog who gets himself everywhere, and I can't actually say what leads it to happen, but maybe her trite conversation and self-satisfied behaviour just, make, me, want to scream!" Now she felt better. I sat down, nodding sympathetically. Helena went back to chopping. For a girl who had been brought up to consider kitchens as places into which she was only expected to wander to give orders about recipes for patrician banquets, she could now wield sharp knives adeptly. I identified a handy cloth that would stanch blood, then I watched with caution. I had taught her to try and avoid chopping off her fingers, but it seemed best not to distract her until she finished. Helena had long, beautiful hands. After a time she threw the leeks in a bowl of water, rattled them about to clean them, wiped the knife, banged down a pan on the cooking bench I had improvised, looked for the olive oil distractedly, and allowed me to find it for her. I took hold of the pan handle. She snatched it away from me. I stood aside politely. She elbowed me back into position and allowed me to take over cooking. Aulus, with unheard-of domestic sense, unwound himself and poured a beaker of red wine, which he placed formally in his sister's hand. Helena leaned against the table, sipping. Her frown relaxed. Soon she told me glumly that Petronius had called that morning; he had looked up the lists of undesirables kept by the vigiles, and found no mention of any Damagoras. Then we got to the nub. Helena added that the reason Junia had called was to gloat that Gaius Baebius did have some information on the name. Being Junia, she would not tell Helena what. Well, that was why Helena was annoyed. I would have to see Gaius Baebius. Now I was annoyed too. Still, the leeks were good. I crumbled in some goat's cheese and de stoned black olives, frisked it all around with a little salty fish-pickle,