The groom's mother was called Tullia, Tullia Longina Since she shared her husband's family name, it must be a marriage between cousins, probably for money reasons. She agreed to see us, though reluctantly, To knock on the door of a private house, unannounced, always puts you on the wrong foot. I could shoulder my way into most places, but a Roman matron, mother of three children, by tradition expects less crudity, Upset her, and a slab-like slave would soon evict us.

My husband is attending to business. Tullia Longina was eyeing us up more critically than Caesius had done. I looked slightly less suave than a gladiator. At least Helena, clad in clean white with gold glinting at her throat, seemed reassuring. Once again, I had taken her with me. I was in a raw mood and needed her restrained back-up.

We could return at a more convenient time,' Helena offered, not meaning it.

We noticed the woman's guarded look.. Better to speak to me. Tullius is annoyed already – A man called Caesius has been here; are you anything to do with him?'

We tutted and looked grieved by his interference.. So you know what happened to his daughter?' Helena asked, trying to win the woman's friendship.

Yes, but my husband says, what has it to do with us?' Mistake, Tullia Helena hated women who sheltered behind their husbands.. Valeria's – accident – is very unfortunate, and a tragedy for my poor son, but we feel, what is the purpose of dwelling on what happened?'

Maybe so you can console your son?' My voice was hard I was remembering the dank contents of the lead coffin at the Caesius house.

Tullia still failed to spot our rudeness. Again, her wary expression came and was quickly supplanted.. Well, life must go on…'

And is your son still abroad?' Helena had recovered herself.

Yes.'

You must just want him home.'