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me something more about where Voluus got his wealth! As it was I had very little to report to Marcus on the subject when I saw him later on.
    However, there was no help for it and it was too late now. Besides, there was a mosaic waiting to be finished in my shop. Marcus might think that my customers would wait, but I knew otherwise. The present commission was for a wealthy councillor, who would certainly expect his pavement to be laid on time, or I’d find myself subject to a heavy financial penalty. The man was famous for imposing them, if any contract was not scrupulously met. I pulled my hood more firmly round my ears and turned my attention to struggling on against the rain.
    It required attention, too, since I had passed the northern gate and was into the sprawling suburb where I plied my trade. The roadways were not paved Roman ones like those within the town: here they were rutted, and treacherous with mud. Even when keeping to the pavements at the side I was forced to pick my way with care. If I slipped and broke a leg I could be there for hours – I was almost the only person on the streets.
    Businesses were open – you could smell the tannery and there was cheerful sawing and hammering from the carpenter’s – but there were virtually no pedestrians about. Even the keepers of the little shops, who generally looked out across their open counters to the street, had retreated to the gloomy rooms within and had either half-closed the shutters to keep out the rain, or had moved their goods indoors entirely, so only the hanging signs gave any clue as to what might be on sale. There were, in any case, no customers today. Only a straggling donkey-cart squelched by, with its drenched driver huddled down behind the reins, and a solitary vendor with a tray of sorry pies, sheltered in a doorway against the driving rain.
    I would be glad to be inside myself, beside a warming fire – and was cheered to realize that it would not be long: I was almost at my destination now. I could already see the stockpiles of ready-sorted stone glistening wetly just outside my door. I clutched my cloak around my soaking knees and began to hurry the final block or two, just as my son Junio came darting out of doors, holding a leather apron like a hood above his head. He didn’t look in my direction, simply bent down by each heap and hastily collected several colours in a bag. No doubt he needed extra pieces to complete the little pavement that we were working on.
    He raised his head and saw me, waved and scuttled back inside. I was about to hasten after him when a soft tug on my clothing made me whirl around. With the insistent patter of the rain and the squelching of my feet, I had not heard anyone approach, but I found a small, drenched, hooded figure standing at my heels.
    ‘Citizen pavement-maker,’ this apparition said, its voice so tentative that it was almost whispering. When I didn’t answer, it added nervously, ‘You are a citizen, I think? That is what they told me in the m-m-market-place. I would not wish to show you disrespect.’ The speaker pushed the cape back from his face and I recognized the skinny boy from Voluus’s apartment.
    ‘Brianus?’ I said doubtfully. I hadn’t noticed the stammer earlier.
    ‘You r-recall my name?’ The thin cheeks flushed with pleasure.
    I nodded. ‘But of course. I saw you only half an hour ago.’ I frowned. ‘What brings you over here? Did Calvinus send you?’
    He nodded. He was a pathetic little figure – even younger than I’d thought – and his legs beneath the cape were thinner than a stork’s. Hardly more than ten or twelve years old, I guessed. He looked up at me speechlessly, from somewhere in the region of my chest.
    Naturally the steward must have sent him, I thought; otherwise the boy would not have dared to leave the house. ‘How did he discover where to look for me?’
    The boy looked terrified, but he managed to reply. ‘He told me to ask around in the