tiger.
‘Fetch some dates, too,’ Claudia called out. ‘And check whether that idle sod Verres is back yet.’
Bloody cook, never around when you wanted him. Probably come up with some ridiculous excuse that he was out choosing food for tonight’s dinner. Why he didn’t send some of the slaves was beyond her. What on earth was the point of having them, if you did the job yourself?
‘You wanted to see me, madam.’
Bloody cook, always creeping up when you never expected him!
‘Yes, Verres. I wanted to talk to you about the banquet Saturday week.’
‘What banquet?’
‘Come, come, Verres. I told you about it weeks ago. The one on the Ides.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘Don’t contradict.’
If he wasn’t such a good cook, imaginative as well as subtle, she’d sack him on the spot. Who did he think he was, anyway, arguing with her like this? Not that it mattered. By the time she’d finished with him she’d have him believing black was white and that she actually had told him about the bloody thing.
‘But I—’
‘Stop wittering, sit down and concentrate. Now, at our last feast you did something rather clever with a pig’s innards, if I recall.’
Verres, as plump as a boiling fowl, beamed with pride.
‘The sow’s womb I stuffed to look like a fish? You want me to do that again?’
‘Great heavens, no!’
Gaius had to believe she’d invested the utmost care and attention in its long-drawn-out planning.
‘This has to be exceptional, Verres. I want their eyes popping out on stalks at this…this magnificent extravaganza, so think carefully.’
‘Ummm. Dormice in honey and sprinkled with poppyseeds?’
‘Yes, yes, by all means. Whatever delicacies you can come up with. But I’m talking about a particularly lavish spectacle. Think, man. What can you produce that’ll be the talk of the Senate for months afterwards?’
For a while it looked as if Verres had lapsed into a coma, but eventually a broad grin split his face. ‘I’ve got it! A wild boar which, when you carve it, lets loose a score of live thrushes which I’ll sew up inside at the last minute!’ You had to hand it to the man, he was a genius. ‘Excellent! Well, you go away and work on that—’
‘We’ll start with oysters and leeks stuffed in a peacock, then move on to tuna disguised—’
‘Wonderful, Verres, absolutely splendid. Now go and plan it alone, there’s a good chap.’
He looked a mite crestfallen as he stood up, but Claudia had no interest in domestic trifles and shooed him away with the back of her hand. Drusilla, meanwhile, having cleared every last scrap of sardine, was helping herself to chicken off Claudia’s plate.
‘Melissa!’
A boar filled with thrushes, eh? Oh yes, that’ll make ’em spill their wine.
‘MELISSA!’
The cat jumped and a lump of chicken fell out of her mouth, which she promptly scooped back up when she realized there was no sign of danger.
‘Oh, there you are. Look, there’s a list in my husband’s room of the people attending the banquet. Don’t look so blank, the feast next Saturday, I told you about it weeks back. Now run off and fetch the list—and bring a jug of wine while you’re about it.’
It’ll be interesting to see who he’s inviting. With any luck, Gaius will have forgotten about adding that boring old fart Balbus to the list—but suppose he’d thought to invite Orbilio? No, no, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t have seen him since yesterday. Which was just as well, really. She didn’t fancy another round with Cousin Markie. She nibbled on a date. Well, not yet, anyway.
‘Here you are, madam. Is there anything else?’ Claudia spat the stone across the courtyard. She was getting better. One of these days she’d hit that sundial. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact there is.’
She picked up the lyre again and began to strum. ‘We need entertainers. Singers, dancers, acrobats, that sort of thing. See to it, will you, Melissa?’
‘Me? But I
‘Fetch some dates, too,’ Claudia called out. ‘And check whether that idle sod Verres is back yet.’
Bloody cook, never around when you wanted him. Probably come up with some ridiculous excuse that he was out choosing food for tonight’s dinner. Why he didn’t send some of the slaves was beyond her. What on earth was the point of having them, if you did the job yourself?
‘You wanted to see me, madam.’
Bloody cook, always creeping up when you never expected him!
‘Yes, Verres. I wanted to talk to you about the banquet Saturday week.’
‘What banquet?’
‘Come, come, Verres. I told you about it weeks ago. The one on the Ides.’
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘Don’t contradict.’
If he wasn’t such a good cook, imaginative as well as subtle, she’d sack him on the spot. Who did he think he was, anyway, arguing with her like this? Not that it mattered. By the time she’d finished with him she’d have him believing black was white and that she actually had told him about the bloody thing.
‘But I—’
‘Stop wittering, sit down and concentrate. Now, at our last feast you did something rather clever with a pig’s innards, if I recall.’
Verres, as plump as a boiling fowl, beamed with pride.
‘The sow’s womb I stuffed to look like a fish? You want me to do that again?’
‘Great heavens, no!’
Gaius had to believe she’d invested the utmost care and attention in its long-drawn-out planning.
‘This has to be exceptional, Verres. I want their eyes popping out on stalks at this…this magnificent extravaganza, so think carefully.’
‘Ummm. Dormice in honey and sprinkled with poppyseeds?’
‘Yes, yes, by all means. Whatever delicacies you can come up with. But I’m talking about a particularly lavish spectacle. Think, man. What can you produce that’ll be the talk of the Senate for months afterwards?’
For a while it looked as if Verres had lapsed into a coma, but eventually a broad grin split his face. ‘I’ve got it! A wild boar which, when you carve it, lets loose a score of live thrushes which I’ll sew up inside at the last minute!’ You had to hand it to the man, he was a genius. ‘Excellent! Well, you go away and work on that—’
‘We’ll start with oysters and leeks stuffed in a peacock, then move on to tuna disguised—’
‘Wonderful, Verres, absolutely splendid. Now go and plan it alone, there’s a good chap.’
He looked a mite crestfallen as he stood up, but Claudia had no interest in domestic trifles and shooed him away with the back of her hand. Drusilla, meanwhile, having cleared every last scrap of sardine, was helping herself to chicken off Claudia’s plate.
‘Melissa!’
A boar filled with thrushes, eh? Oh yes, that’ll make ’em spill their wine.
‘MELISSA!’
The cat jumped and a lump of chicken fell out of her mouth, which she promptly scooped back up when she realized there was no sign of danger.
‘Oh, there you are. Look, there’s a list in my husband’s room of the people attending the banquet. Don’t look so blank, the feast next Saturday, I told you about it weeks back. Now run off and fetch the list—and bring a jug of wine while you’re about it.’
It’ll be interesting to see who he’s inviting. With any luck, Gaius will have forgotten about adding that boring old fart Balbus to the list—but suppose he’d thought to invite Orbilio? No, no, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t have seen him since yesterday. Which was just as well, really. She didn’t fancy another round with Cousin Markie. She nibbled on a date. Well, not yet, anyway.
‘Here you are, madam. Is there anything else?’ Claudia spat the stone across the courtyard. She was getting better. One of these days she’d hit that sundial. ‘Yes, as a matter of fact there is.’
She picked up the lyre again and began to strum. ‘We need entertainers. Singers, dancers, acrobats, that sort of thing. See to it, will you, Melissa?’
‘Me? But I
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