Time To Depart

XXXII

A SMALL SERIOUS figure greeted me as I turned into Fountain Court.

`Uncle Marcus! May Mercury god of the crossroads ever watch over you!'

Only Maia's eldest boy, Marius, ever sounded off so formally. He was a good-looking, extremely solemn little person, eight years old and completely self-possessed.

'Io, Marius! I was not expecting you until after afternoon school. Are you particularly fond of me, or just very short. of money for pastries?'

`I've organised a rota for you. Cornelius will be on guard duty this afternoon, then Ancus. You should pay me, and I'll do the sharing out.' Maia had made all her children excellent foremen. Both I and my rubbish were in safe hands. But his mind appeared to be somewhere else. `We have a crisis,' he announced, as if I were a partner in disaster. Marius believed in the sanctity of personal relationships: I was family; I would help.

The best help to offer was the sacred art of spotting trouble and bunking off the other way. `Well I'm very busy on official business. But I'm always available if you need advice.'

`I'm afraid I'm heading for a row,' confessed Marius, walking with me towards the apartment. `I expect you would like me to tell you what has transpired.'

`Frankly, Marius, one more problem and I'll buckle.'

`I rather hoped I could rely on you,' he said gloomily. Short of bopping him on the head with a baton and sprinting for cover, I was trapped.

`You're a hard master! Have you ever thought of becoming a bailiff?'

`No, I think I shall be a rhetoric teacher. I have the mind for it.'

Had he not borne his father's eyes (in a less bleary vision), I might have wondered whether Marius had been found under the parapet of a bridge. Still, maybe young sobersides would grow up and fall in love with a tinker's by-blow, then run off to be a harp player.

I doubted it. Full of calm assurance, Marius saw the pitfalls of eccentricity and had simply turned his back on them. Sad really. The mind he spoke of with such respect deserved a more colourful fate.

We had reached the laundry. `I'm going up, Marius. If you've something to tell me, this is the moment.' 'Tertulla's disappeared again.'

`Why fret? It happens all the time. Anyway, your grandma's taken her in hand.'

`It's true. This time I'll get the blame for it.'

`Nobody could possibly blame you for Tertulla, Marius. She's your cousin, not your sister, and she's beyond help. You're not responsible.' I wondered if he knew he had been supposed to be named Marcus, after me. When his father was sent to register his birth, Famia had dropped into several wine bars on the way to the Censor's Office, then he had misread the note Maia had sent him out with. This would have, been bad enough once, but he had repeated his triumph when he registered his second son as Ancus instead of Aulus. When Maia gave birth to her daughters she dragged herself to the Censor's with him and made sure things were done right.

`Uncle Marcus, I think I'd better tell you what has happened.'

The sight of a child confiding his problems was too much. Marius must have been relying on this, the cunning brat.

I sighed. `You ought to be at home having your dinner.' `I'm frightened to go.'

He didn't look very frightened, but it was unlike him to say it. `Walk upstairs with me then.'

`Tertulla hasn't run away. She's too scared of Grandma. Grandma put me in charge of seeing her to school. It was really annoying. And then I was supposed to march her to lunch at her mother's house -'

`So she did go to school in the morning?'

'No, of course not!' scoffed Marius impatiently, scuttling after me around the third bend. `She skipped off as soon as we arrived, but she promised to meet us all outside after lessons.'

`So what happened?'

`She never showed up. I think something bad has happened. I need you, Uncle Marcus. We'll have to conduct a search.'

'Tertulla's a minx and she's forgotten the time. She'll turn up.'

Marius shook his head. He had the same curls as me and Pa, yet somehow managed to make his look neat. I ought to ask him for hairdressing tips sometime. `Look, Uncle, I have an interest in this problem since I shall be blamed for losing her. If you agree to search, I'll help you.'

`I don't agree!' I told him cheerfully. We had reached the apartment; I led him indoors. `But I don't agree with a future rhetoric teacher being made a scapegoat for one of Galla's rascals either. Now here's Helena -'

`Oh good!' exclaimed Marius, with no attempt to disguise his relief. `Somebody who will know what we should do!'

Helena came in from the balcony. She was carrying the skip baby. I grinned approvingly, but it was my nephew who risked his neck. Maia must have been talking at home about our own impending family because as soon as Marius saw the baby he shrieked, `Oh goodness, Helena! Has Uncle Marcus brought you one in advance to practise on?'

She was not pleased.