Double Trouble Read online

  ‘You’re probably right, but it doesn’t really matter who owns us. We’re still slaves. I wonder what work we’ll have to do?’

  ‘Not picking onions, I hope. Trust me, Tilly, that so isn’t fun.’

  Tilly rolled her eyes. ‘Enough with the onions already,’ she said.

  Prima had brought us back to one of the bedrooms, and she indicated that we should go inside.

  ‘I suppose she wants us to tidy it for her,’ I said. ‘I hope she’s not a slob like Amy. It would take months to clean her room properly.’

  The room was big and already perfectly tidy. Prima patted a huge bed. ‘Prima,’ she said.

  Then she pushed open a door into a smaller room with two narrow beds. She patted each one in turn. ‘Tilly … Lauren,’ she said.

  Tilly grinned. ‘I’ve seen wardrobes bigger than this room,’ she said, ‘but I’m so happy we don’t have to sleep in a shed or a cave or something.’

  Then Prima ran back into her own room. She returned with a beautifully embroidered pillow. She put the pillow on the floor between the two beds.

  ‘Sattie,’ she said.

  Tilly put her rucksack down on her bed and I lay Saturn on his cushion, where he immediately fell asleep.

  ‘Settle in, Lauren,’ said Tilly. ‘It looks like we’ve found a new home.’

  11

  We followed Prima back into her bedroom. She sat on the bed and Tilly and I sat on a bench near the wall. At first we had fun pointing at things in the room and repeating their Latin names after Prima, but that was only entertaining for a few minutes. After that, it felt a bit like being at school and I half expected Prima to start handing out gold stars to Tilly and me for being so good at our lessons.

  Then the three of us sat in silence.

  ‘This is getting a bit embarrassing,’ said Tilly in the end. ‘At least the last time you time-travelled, you could speak the language.’

  ‘Yeah, I suppose that helped a bit,’ I said. ‘But you’d be surprised how much stuff you and I talk about that made no sense at all to people in 1912.’

  Tilly laughed. ‘Do you think there’s anyone around here who speaks English? These people are totally rich. Maybe we could get an interpreter.’

  I shook my head. ‘That wouldn’t be any good. English has changed so much since the time of the Ancient Romans, we wouldn’t even recognize it. My mum studied Old English in college and she says it was like a completely different language.’

  ‘Pity we didn’t bring your mum along so. Do you think we could send Saturn back to pick her up?’

  ‘No way,’ I said quickly. ‘One of the best things about time travel is getting to live in a mum-free world for a little while.’

  Too late, I realized what I’d said. Tilly’s mum is dead and the only world she knows is a mum-free one.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Tilly,’ I said. ‘I’m a complete idiot. I just meant … you know … it’s kind of a novelty to be free … with no one warning you to wear a coat and … you know … to say please and thank you all the time and … stuff … and …’

  I kept going, not sure if I was making things better or worse.

  Tilly hugged me. ‘It’s fine, Lauren. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, so I’ll forgive you if you promise to stop babbling.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said as I hugged her back.

  While we were talking, Prima was staring at us with a polite, frozen smile on her face.

  ‘This is awful,’ I moaned. ‘It’s like when Mum and Dad have people over to visit and I’m supposed to hang out with their weird children, and they act all surprised when we’re not instant best friends.’

  ‘Oh, I have an idea,’ said Tilly, jumping up. ‘Maybe there’s something in my schoolbag that we can talk about. Should I show Prima my phone, do you think?’

  I shook my head. ‘Maybe that would be too much of a shock. Best to start with something a bit less high-tech.’

  I could hear Tilly unzipping her schoolbag, and a second later she came back holding her history book.

  ‘That looks like a lot of fun,’ I said. ‘We can have a history lesson.’

  Tilly ignored my sarcastic tone.

  ‘Trust me,’ she said. ‘It will work. This book’s got lots of pictures.’

  She sat next to Prima, and I went to sit beside them. Prima took the book from Tilly and turned it over and over in her hands. Tilly showed her how to open it and Prima ran her hands over the pages, like they were the smoothest things she had ever touched. Then she leaned forward and smelled the pages.

  I giggled. ‘Does she think it’s something you’re supposed to eat?’

  Tilly giggled too. ‘If she takes a bite out of my book, I’m going to have a really hard time explaining it to Mrs Simms when I get back to school.’

  ‘Why’s she acting so weird anyway? Didn’t they have books in Roman times?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll tell you in a second,’ said Tilly. She took the history book from Prima and flicked through it until she got to the chapter on Ancient Rome.

  ‘Nope,’ she said in the end. ‘They wrote on papyrus scrolls.’

  Prima took the book back from Tilly and turned the pages slowly. She especially liked the pictures of the people in the chapter on Ancient Rome. She ran her fingers over each one, almost like she knew them.

  Then she turned a page and Tilly gasped. ‘Saturn,’ she said.

  I looked through the doorway, but could see that Saturn was still asleep on his cushion.

  ‘No,’ said Tilly. ‘Not that Saturn. There’s one here too.’

  I looked down the list of Roman gods and stopped near the end where Tilly was pointing.

  ‘See, Lauren,’ she said. ‘Saturn was the Roman god of time. That’s why Prima was mad earlier. Maybe using a god’s name for a cat is a sign of disrespect or something.’

  ‘The god of time,’ I repeated. ‘Of course. It makes perfect sense. Whoever christened Saturn knew exactly what they were doing. Who could think of a better name for a time-travelling cat?’

  ‘Anyway, enough about cats,’ said Tilly. ‘Let’s see what she makes of this.’

  Tilly helped Prima to flick through the pages until they came to the chapter on the Second World War. Prima looked closely at the pictures of the fighter aeroplanes flying over a city, then she shook her head. Tilly pointed at the planes and flapped her arms like wings.

  Prima shook her head again and closed her eyes, like she was trying to make the pictures go away. In her world, only birds could fly and clearly she couldn’t imagine anything else.

  She worked back through the pages until she came to the Ancient Rome section again. Then she examined the images for a long time, smiling to herself.

  ‘No wonder Roman civilization collapsed,’ said Tilly, grinning. ‘They weren’t ready to embrace change.’

  12

  We looked at the history book for ages, and then the sound of a gong made Prima close the book and stand up.

  Tilly and I followed Prima into the courtyard. She stopped and opened a door that led into a small room.

  ‘What …?’ began Tilly, wrinkling her nose.

  ‘Oh yes,’ I said, showing off. ‘I forgot to tell you about the whole communal toilet thing they do around here.’

  Tilly examined the line of four toilets set in a semicircle round the wall.

  ‘That’s totally gross,’ she said. ‘And I’m not even going to ask you what that sponge thing on a stick is used for.’

  ‘Just as well, because I don’t know,’ I said. ‘But I sooo don’t like what I’m thinking.’

  Tilly made a face.

  ‘Back on the onion farm, the toilets seemed like the place people went for a chat,’ I said.

  Tilly made a worse face. ‘Haven’t they heard of privacy?’

  ‘Well, Prima hasn’t anyway,’ I said, as Prima went to one of the toilets and began
to pull up her tunic.

  ‘My mum is always saying “When in Rome, do as the Romans do”,’ I said.

  Tilly dragged me from the room, giggling. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘This isn’t Rome, remember? This is Campania, and when it comes to toilets, I’m doing as twenty-first century people do.’

  As soon as Prima came out from the toilet, Tilly went in, and when she was finished I took my turn.

  Prima watched as if we were crazy. Then she took us to a bathing area where we could wash our hands and faces.

  Next she took us back to pick up Saturn, and then we all went to a room that had three couches arranged round a large, low table. Some of the couches were already occupied.

  ‘Familia,’ she said.

  Julius was lying on one couch, and he smiled when he saw us.

  On the next couch there was a beautiful, elegant woman. She was dressed in a long robe with a pleated skirt. Her hair was piled on her head in huge curls held in place with shiny combs. As she stood up to greet us, her jewellery jangled like a wind chime in a gentle breeze.

  Prima kissed the woman, and then turned to us. ‘Mater,’ she said. ‘Livia.’

  ‘I’m guessing that Livia is her mother,’ said Tilly.

  Then Prima pointed to a beautiful little girl of about three who was sitting next to her mother. ‘Secunda,’ she said.

  Secunda smiled shyly.

  Then Prima pointed at Tilly and me and said our names. Her mother smiled at us and pointed towards the empty couch.

  I was about to sit down when Tilly pulled me back. ‘We’re slaves, remember? We’re probably not supposed to eat with the family.’

  ‘So why is she pointing at the couch?’

  ‘I don’t know, do I? Maybe she wants us to move it out of the way or something.’

  Prima saw our hesitation and began to laugh. She took Tilly’s arm and led her towards the couch and gently pushed her on to it. Then Prima sat down too. Feeling more confident, I sat down next to her and waited to see what happened next.

  Prima’s mother clapped her hands twice and a door at the far side of the room opened. Three slaves walked in, carrying trays. When the table was piled high with food and drink, the mother clapped her hands again and two more slaves walked in. One slave played music on a thing like a miniature guitar, and the other danced. It was nice, but a bit weird.

  I nudged Tilly. ‘Is this the equivalent of watching TV during meals?’ I said, and she laughed.

  Now everyone started to reach out for food. There weren’t any plates or cutlery, and everyone just grabbed stuff with their hands. Soon Tilly was copying them. Hardly anything looked familiar to me, and I sooo don’t like eating stuff when I don’t know what it is.

  I picked up a piece of bread and chewed on it, but Prima’s mother saw me and waved her arms across the table, showing me the big display of food. Feeling embarrassed, I picked up the nearest thing to me. I wasn’t sure what was inside, but it looked like whatever it was had been dipped in honey and rolled in poppy seeds. It looked harmless enough, and I was just bringing it to my mouth when Tilly nudged me and pointed at the food in my hand.

  ‘I wonder if that’s a deep-fried dormouse,’ she said. ‘They were really popular in Roman times.’

  ‘You’re joking,’ I said weakly.

  ‘Nope. But what’s the big deal? You’ve been through all kinds of scary things in the last twenty-four hours, so don’t tell me you’re afraid of a tiny dead dormouse.’

  ‘I’m not afraid of it,’ I said. ‘I just don’t want it anywhere near my mouth, that’s all.’

  Tilly sighed. ‘You’re such a baby, Lauren,’ she said. ‘People get sent home from reality TV shows for that kind of behaviour. Anyway, it probably isn’t a dormouse.’

  That made me feel a bit better, and I was working up the courage to take a tiny nibble when she continued. ‘It’s probably a flamingo’s tongue. The Romans loved those too.’

  I was starting to feel really sick, and I had no idea what to do with the lump of food in my hand. All I knew for sure was that there was no way it was going anywhere near my lips.

  Then there was a sudden, loud crash, as someone dropped something in the kitchen. Everyone turned and looked, and I quickly threw the piece of food under the table. Saturn raced over and ate it in one bite, and for the rest of the meal, I ate bread.

  When the food was gone, the other slaves returned and began to clear up.

  ‘Should we offer to help, do you think?’ asked Tilly.

  I shrugged. ‘At home, my mum would kill me if she thought I didn’t help to clean up after a meal, but here I have no idea what to do. We’re supposed to be slaves, and yet the other slaves are waiting on us.’

  ‘Maybe if we don’t act like slaves, the family will forget about it,’ suggested Tilly.

  That seemed like a plan, so I sat for ages wondering what was the best way not to look like a slave, even though I’d been bought and sold twice in the last twenty-four hours.

  When Julius finally left the table, the rest of us got up too. Livia took Secunda to the swimming pool and watched as she splashed her feet. Saturn curled up for yet another sleep. Tilly went to our room and returned with her colouring pencils and her maths exercise book. Then she joined Prima and me in a shady corner of the courtyard.

  Tilly handed the exercise book and pencils to Prima, who spent ages experimenting with different colours and patterns.

  ‘What’s the big deal?’ asked Tilly. ‘They’re just boring old colouring pencils.’

  ‘Can’t you see?’ I replied. ‘It’s her first time. It’s like she’s back in infants’ class, and these pencils could well be the most exciting things she’s seen in her whole life.’

  ‘She needs to get out more,’ said Tilly, and we both laughed.

  By now, Prima had covered most of Tilly’s maths book with coloured scribbles.

  ‘Mrs Simms is going to kill you when she sees that,’ I said. ‘What are you going to tell her?’

  ‘I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll tell her an Ancient Roman scribbled on it.’

  We both laughed at the thought.

  Tilly sighed. ‘It would be the first honest excuse I’ve ever given her. Anyway, I’m not going to worry about that at the moment. Maths class feels like a million miles away from here right now.’

  And I couldn’t argue with that.

  When it started to get dark, we made our way to our beds. A slave girl came to our room and lit a lamp so we could see.

  I wasn’t looking forward to another night sleeping in my school uniform, so I was glad when Prima dug around in a big chest and pulled out two tunics for Tilly and me to wear in bed.

  When we were all settled, Prima’s mother came into her room. She talked to her daughter for a while and then kissed her goodnight.

  Next she came into our little room. She said a few things that we couldn’t understand, then she touched each of us gently on the forehead, blew out the lamp and tiptoed out.

  Tilly and I whispered together in the darkness.

  ‘So what do you think of time travel now?’ I asked.

  ‘It’s all a bit weird and scary and very tiring, but I think I like it.’

  ‘And what do you think is going to happen tomorrow?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, as you keep pointing out, we’re slaves. All the other slaves have to work, so I don’t suppose you and I will be spending tomorrow lying round the swimming pool.’

  Tilly sighed. ‘That’s a pity. Do you think working on our tans would count as work?’

  ‘I wish.’

  From the next room, Prima called something out.

  ‘I suppose that’s Latin for Goodnight,’ I said.

  ‘Goodnight to you too, Prima,’ said Tilly. ‘Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.’

  And seconds later I could hear her snoring peaceful
ly.

  13

  I woke up to see Prima standing in the doorway, saying my name and Tilly’s. It was already bright and I had a feeling that we had been asleep for a very long time.

  I pulled Tilly’s arm to wake her up and we both sat up in bed.

  ‘This is it,’ said Tilly. ‘She’s waking us up so that we can start work. If one of us has to clean those stinky toilets, how about we do rock-paper-scissors to decide who escapes?’

  ‘That’s sooo not fair,’ I said. ‘You always win when we do rock-paper-scissors.’

  ‘You can’t blame me for being lucky,’ she said. ‘I –’

  She stopped talking as Prima beckoned to us to get up.

  The night before, Tilly and I had thrown our clothes in a heap on the floor. I looked at my dirty, crumpled uniform and really didn’t fancy another day of wearing it.

  As I bent down to pick up my skirt, Prima clapped her hands and instantly a slave was beside us. Prima said something to her and the girl gathered up all of our dirty clothes and put them into a basket.

  Then Prima brought us into her room and she opened a big wardrobe. Clearly she was a very spoiled girl, as the wardrobe was stuffed with clothes.

  Tilly made a face. ‘Where’s the fun in having a gazillion outfits if they’re all exactly the same?’

  She was right. All of Prima’s clothes seemed to be long tunic-type dresses in various not-very-exciting colours. Some were decorated on the hem, but most were plain.

  Prima seemed to be waiting for a reaction.

  ‘Wow!’ I said.

  ‘OMG!’ said Tilly.

  I considered we were pretty good actors, as I’ve seen better collections of clothes in the scabby old charity shop at the end of our road.

  Prima pulled out a few tunics and held them up to us.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Tilly. ‘Should I wear the grey or the grey?’

  I punched her lightly on the arm. ‘Don’t be such an ungrateful little slave,’ I said.