`You could have written earlier,' Petronius said morosely.

`Too busy. When I did write I'd just ridden eight hundred: miles across Spain like a madman, only to be told that Helena, was in desperate trouble with the birth. I thought I was going to lose her, and the baby too. The midwife had gone off halfway to Gaul, Helena was exhausted and the girls with us, were terrified. I delivered that child myself- and I'll, take a long time to get over it!

Petronius shuddered; Though a devoted father of three himself, his nature was conservative and fastidious. When Arria Silvia was having their daughters she had sent him off somewhere until the screaming was all over. That was his idea of family life. I would receive no credit for my feat.

`So you named her Julia Junilla. After both grandmothers? Falco, you really know how to arrange free nursemaids.'

`Julia Junilla Laeitana,' I corrected him.

`You named your daughter after a wine?' At last some admiration crept into his tone.'

`It's the district where she was born,' I declared proudly.

`You sly bastard.' Now he was envious. We both knew that Arria Silvia would never have let him get away with it.

`So where's Silvia?' I challenged.

Petronius took a long, slow breath and gazed upwards. While he was looking for swallows, I wondered whatever was wrong. The absence of his wife and children from our party was startling. Our families frequently dined together. We had even survived a joint holiday once, though that had been pushing it.

`Where's Silvia?' mused Petro, as if the question intrigued him too.