tell me about what happened?'
Pa had said Justinus hit her, but there were no visible wounds or bruises. I was familiar with the evidence of wife-beating, from many a sad soul I knew when I lived up on the Aventine and from plenty of battered witnesses I met through my work.
'We had a quarrel,' stated Claudia in a tight voice. 'As I am sure you know, Marcus Didius, this was nothing unusual.' With compressed lips, Claudia stared at me for a moment. She was a proud girl; it hurt her to say it openly.
'This was a particular quarrel?'
'Oh yes!' Oh dear! 'The woman Veleda is in Rome. Quintus is extremely agitated. I cannot bear it any longer. I told him if he attempts to see her, I will divorce him and return to Hispania Baetica. He has to choose. We cannot possibly continue as we are--'
Claudia was close to hysterical. I glanced at Julia Justa then suggested she go and help Helena deal with the soldiers. Julia glared but took the hint.
After she left, Claudia sat down on a couch, went into a short sobbing session which she ended of her own accord, then blew her nose, and sat up straight to discuss things. She had always been practical. It simplified the crises.
'How did Quintus come to hit you, Claudia?' Best to get this dealt with.
Claudia blushed. 'It was nothing. Just stupid. I was so furious and frustrated I must have accidentally knocked into him and he reacted instinctively. '
I had been told similar by many an abused woman, but in this case I believed her. Abused wives don't wriggle with embarrassment. 'You lashed out and belted him, he swiped you back, neither of you meant it? And then,' I said gently, 'both of you were terribly shocked. He couldn't cope, so he fled?' Claudia was staring at the ground. 'Look, I heard about it from my father. Quintus went to buy you a present to apologise--he was horrified and ashamed... ' Claudia was starting to look more cheerful. I didn't fool myself; she was probably just happy to hear of Quintus being ashamed. 'Was the baby in the room?'
'No.'
'Well, at least he didn't see the riot.' I gave her a grin. 'You're a dangerous woman! And don't blame Quintus; he has been taught by army trainers to react to an attack... It won't happen again. If it did, you would both have to worry--but it won't.'
'It certainly won't happen if he never comes home,' snarled Claudia.
'So you want him to come home?' I demanded pointedly. She fell silent.
The narrow double doors of our pleasant turquoise salon slid apart quietly; Helena came in, closing the doors again behind her back and leaning against them momentarily. She had probably been listening outside.
I wondered where her mother was. The thought of the noble and elegant Julia Justa showing a group of inept soldiers where they could set up their camp beds was piquant. She would do it without a qualm. Julia was competent, much more competent than the lads would expect. I lived with her daughter, so I knew how the Camilli had been brought up.
There had been plenty of past affection between Helena and Claudia. Even so, Helena came to sit by me. I knew her loyalty was to her brother rather than his wife.
This was the predicament of the foreign bride, when things went wrong. Even if the people among whom she had made her new life were taking her part, she could never entirely trust them. My common origins made me different and I could sometimes comfort the girl, but Helena would always be one of the Camilli. Justinus had been in the wrong more than once, and he was going to make a fool of himself over Veleda if he possibly could, but his wife would struggle to find allies. She knew it too. She also knew it was her own fault she had married him, and if she gave him a divorce notice everyone else would blame her.
Claudia Rufina was isolated in Rome. Her family, such as it was, lived far away in Corduba. Her parents were long dead; her younger brother had been murdered; her grandparents were very elderly. I was not even sure the old couple
Pa had said Justinus hit her, but there were no visible wounds or bruises. I was familiar with the evidence of wife-beating, from many a sad soul I knew when I lived up on the Aventine and from plenty of battered witnesses I met through my work.
'We had a quarrel,' stated Claudia in a tight voice. 'As I am sure you know, Marcus Didius, this was nothing unusual.' With compressed lips, Claudia stared at me for a moment. She was a proud girl; it hurt her to say it openly.
'This was a particular quarrel?'
'Oh yes!' Oh dear! 'The woman Veleda is in Rome. Quintus is extremely agitated. I cannot bear it any longer. I told him if he attempts to see her, I will divorce him and return to Hispania Baetica. He has to choose. We cannot possibly continue as we are--'
Claudia was close to hysterical. I glanced at Julia Justa then suggested she go and help Helena deal with the soldiers. Julia glared but took the hint.
After she left, Claudia sat down on a couch, went into a short sobbing session which she ended of her own accord, then blew her nose, and sat up straight to discuss things. She had always been practical. It simplified the crises.
'How did Quintus come to hit you, Claudia?' Best to get this dealt with.
Claudia blushed. 'It was nothing. Just stupid. I was so furious and frustrated I must have accidentally knocked into him and he reacted instinctively. '
I had been told similar by many an abused woman, but in this case I believed her. Abused wives don't wriggle with embarrassment. 'You lashed out and belted him, he swiped you back, neither of you meant it? And then,' I said gently, 'both of you were terribly shocked. He couldn't cope, so he fled?' Claudia was staring at the ground. 'Look, I heard about it from my father. Quintus went to buy you a present to apologise--he was horrified and ashamed... ' Claudia was starting to look more cheerful. I didn't fool myself; she was probably just happy to hear of Quintus being ashamed. 'Was the baby in the room?'
'No.'
'Well, at least he didn't see the riot.' I gave her a grin. 'You're a dangerous woman! And don't blame Quintus; he has been taught by army trainers to react to an attack... It won't happen again. If it did, you would both have to worry--but it won't.'
'It certainly won't happen if he never comes home,' snarled Claudia.
'So you want him to come home?' I demanded pointedly. She fell silent.
The narrow double doors of our pleasant turquoise salon slid apart quietly; Helena came in, closing the doors again behind her back and leaning against them momentarily. She had probably been listening outside.
I wondered where her mother was. The thought of the noble and elegant Julia Justa showing a group of inept soldiers where they could set up their camp beds was piquant. She would do it without a qualm. Julia was competent, much more competent than the lads would expect. I lived with her daughter, so I knew how the Camilli had been brought up.
There had been plenty of past affection between Helena and Claudia. Even so, Helena came to sit by me. I knew her loyalty was to her brother rather than his wife.
This was the predicament of the foreign bride, when things went wrong. Even if the people among whom she had made her new life were taking her part, she could never entirely trust them. My common origins made me different and I could sometimes comfort the girl, but Helena would always be one of the Camilli. Justinus had been in the wrong more than once, and he was going to make a fool of himself over Veleda if he possibly could, but his wife would struggle to find allies. She knew it too. She also knew it was her own fault she had married him, and if she gave him a divorce notice everyone else would blame her.
Claudia Rufina was isolated in Rome. Her family, such as it was, lived far away in Corduba. Her parents were long dead; her younger brother had been murdered; her grandparents were very elderly. I was not even sure the old couple
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