ODE TO A BANKER

Of course if he was dumped by my mother at the same time as Maia saw through him, we were probably dead from the moment the letter saying, `Darling, we've had so much fun and I really hate writing this…'

landed on his Palace desk. I felt sick at the thought of anyone calling Anacrites darling. But that was nothing to my fear of his reaction if he ever lost face by rejection as a lover – especially if he then blamed me. He had tried to have me killed once, in Nabataea. It could happen again at any time.

As I brooded, Petronius was making some quiet joke: 'Ah, I won't have any luck with Maia. I'm her brother's horrible crony – tainted goods.'

Just as well. I hated all my brothers-in-law. What a pack of irritating swine. The last thing I could have tolerated was my best friend wanting to join them. Shaking my head to be rid of this thought, I set off to the Forum not to be greeted like a hero, but to try to see Lucrio.

As I walked, I wondered why I had not told Maia the ill-tasting gossip about Anacrites and Ma. Pure cowardice, I admitted it.

Lucrio was nowhere to be found. I was hardly surprised. When any business goes bankrupt, the executives ensure that the night before it becomes open knowledge they ride off to their personal villas a long way from Rome – taking the silverware and petty cash. The Golden Horse change-table stood empty and unstaffed. I walked to Lucrio's home address. A fair-sized crowd had gathered, some just standing with an air of hopelessness, others flinging rocks at shutters in a desolate way. A few were probably debtors who wondered if they might escape repaying their loans now. The door stayed closed and the windows were well barred.

I felt disappointed. As a riot, it was a washout. Sightseers had started arriving just to watch for suicides among the crowd but the crowd, slightly embarrassed, all looked ready to filter off home. Those who had lost most money would stay away. They would resist accepting what had happened, pretending everything was fine. As long as they could, they would fight off despair. When it struck, nobody would see them again.

There was nothing to do here. When a sad tambourine man came to play and sing mournful drinking songs, I left before his grimy assistant reached me with the hat.

Forget Lucrio. Forget these blank loafers drifting about in the street. I did not know them and I did not care too much about their losses. But if the bank had crashed, it affected real people, people I did know. There was something I had to tackle urgently. I had to go and see Ma.

XLVI

M

OTHER'S NEIGHBOUR. Aristagoras, the little old fellow, was sunning himself in the portico. Ma always kept the common areas of her block spick and span. Over the years, she must have saved the landlord hundreds in sweeper's fees. There were bright pots of roses by the front entrance, which she tended too.

Aristagoras called out a greeting; I raised an arm and kept going. He was a chatterer, I could tell.

I ran lightly up the stairs to the apartment. Most days, Ma was either out, whirling about the Aventine on errands and causing annoyance, or else she was in, scrubbing away at pots or chopping like fury in her cooking area. Today I just found her sitting still in a basket armchair that my late brother Festus had once given her (I knew, though she did not, that the cheeky beggar won it in a game of draughts). She had her hands folded rather tightly in her lap. As usual, her dress and hair were scrupulously neat, though a fine aura of tragic gloom enveloped her.

I closed the door gently. Two eyes like burnt raisins bored into me. I pulled up a stool beside her and squatted on it with my elbows on my knees.

`You heard about the Aurelian Bank?'

Ma nodded. `One of the men who works for Anacrites came to see him early this morning. Is it true?'

`Afraid so. I've just been down there – all closed up. Did Anacrites manage to remove his cash?'

`He had notified the agent that he wanted to make a withdrawal, but the money has not yet been paid to him.'

`Tough.' I managed to sound neutral. I gazed at Ma. Despite her anxious stillness, her face was expressionless. `They probably knew they were in trouble, you know; they would have slowed up on shelling out. I wouldn't be too concerned about him. He may have lost a packet with the Aurelian, but he must have plenty more hoarded away in other safe places. It goes with his job.'

`I see,' said Ma.

`Anyway,' I continued gravely, `there are liquidators appointed. All Anacrites has to do is toddle along to see them, mention that he's the influential Chief Spy, and they will ensure he'll be top of the list of creditors who get paid in full. Only wise move they can make.'

`I'll tell him to do that!' Ma exclaimed, looking relieved on behalf of her protege. I ground my teeth. Telling him how to bail himself out had not really been my plan.