Vesuvius by Night

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The girl had gone. It was no surprise. Leaving was what girls did. Few of those that Nonius brought home stayed until he roused himself from stupor, even though they had to be very drunk to come with him in the first place.

The night before, his voice would have been loud in calling for the wine, although he knew how to absent himself just as the tavern bill was brought, leaving others to pay up. A wink to some equally sly waitress, who had been serving whatever party he latched onto would bring her back here with him at the end of the night. It might not be for his sexual prowess, which most bargirls derided on principle, but because he could offer a bed. For him and for them, this was better than dossing down in a stable with the beasts.

It was normal for such companions to skedaddle before he woke up. They had to be back at the places where they worked, seamy wine bars down by the Marine Gate or raucous hovels around the amphitheatre. These scrawny women in their off-the-shoulder tunics were needed to give the marble-patched counters a cursory wipe down and start selling snacks to morning customers, however groggy they felt. Most of the Empire was fuelled by street food.

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