FORTY-TWO

 

The roster had her working this weekend, so she paid her weekly visit to Maria on her day off, instead. Maria's mind was wandering more than usual today, so Catena just settled down to listen.

Then, when Maria paused to free her teeth from the caramel Tim Tam, Catena figured she may as well ask.

"What do you know about gargoyles, Maria?"

A big swallow of coffee had Maria opening her mouth again, and wagging her finger, too.

"I bet you're thinking the only kind of gargoyles are the ones you see on medieval churches, aren't you? Well, you'd be wrong. Gargoyles go as far back as the earliest civilisations. They've been protecting buildings for as long as there were buildings. Egypt, the Middle East, even Pompeii had gargoyles, but they didn't look like those ugly things on top of the cathedral in Paris. Oh, no. They were fierce defenders, and they were lions and dragons with the faces of men. People believed they would rise up, actually come to life, and defend the buildings they stood guard over.

"I remember when I was working on a dig in Pompeii, a site that had been dug up by treasure hunters when the city was first discovered, then reburied. We, of course, were doing the thing properly, systematically. Anyway, the first night out, before we started work, we're all having a few drinks, saying what we hoped to find. It's a game you play, though more often than not, nobody actually wins, but when someone does, we all chip in and get the winner roaring drunk when the thing they wish for is discovered. I don't remember what I wished for – I didn't win, so it didn't matter.

"No, it was a local boy, home on summer holidays from university, I think, who had the strangest wish. He told this story about some barbarian woman, the daughter of a prosperous freedman, who set up a high class bathhouse in Pompeii. She took three lovers – a gladiator, an artist, and an engineer. Now, she loved all three equally, but each of the men wanted her to themselves. So one day, they played a game of chance, saying that the winner could have her. Well, they played, but before they could determine the winner, an earthquake toppled the house down on top of them, and all three of them died. When she got home, she was devastated, but, being a barbarian witch, she knew how to cast a spell to raise her lovers from the dead, and bind them to her forever. The catch was, she had to bury them beneath her house, before she could revive them, and there were only so many builders in Pompeii, and they were very much in demand after the earthquake. Being a freedman's daughter, and a barbarian to boot, she was way down the list, and she had to wait years for her turn. Finally, her house was rebuilt, and she planned a magnificent feast for the night she planned to revive her lovers. Only the volcano erupted, and she was forced to flee...leaving her lovers behind, still waiting for her to resurrect them.

"He'd grown up with the story, maybe he was even descended from that woman, but what he wanted to find was those three men's bodies."

Catena leaned forward, balanced on the edge of her seat. "So did you find them?"

Maria laughed. "Of course not! It was just a silly story. But every night, we came back to it. Arguing over which man we'd have chosen out of her three lovers. Whether you wanted a man who'd fill your house with beautiful art, or build you a house with the most modern and remarkable things, or the gladiator, all supple and athletic. I imagine the sex must have been amazing."

There was a reason Maria never had a roommate, though there was space in this room for two. She'd scandalised so many of the little old ladies with her open talk of sex that the nurses knew not to put anyone else in with her, or risk them having a heart attack.

"That reminds me of a ruined castle in the UK I worked at for a season. Don't remember which one it was. But they did have a little chapel with the roof missing. Down at the village pub, they told all sorts of stories about the castle. That the family's fortunes had been lost when the local lord went off on a crusade, leaving his wife to hold the fort, as it were. She did for a while, praying every day and every night in the little chapel, which apparently had a gargoyle on the roof.

"Anyway, one night she retired to the chapel, intending to have an all night prayer vigil for her husband. The next morning, when one of the servants came in to bring her her breakfast, both she and the gargoyle were gone. It turned out that instead of praying for her husband, she'd spent those nights sleeping with the gargoyle, until they decided to run away together. That's where I learned that gargoyles have a reputation as legendary lovers."

Catena felt her face grow hot. If the lady's gargoyle had looked like Tor, no wonder she couldn't resist. Especially with her husband off killing people in the name of religion.

Maria sighed. "You know, if I have one regret in life, it's that I never got to seduce a gargoyle. And I never got seduced by one. When she's old enough, I must tell my goddaughter that. She should try to live without regrets and, if the opportunity arises, she should seize life with both hands, and seduce the gargoyle."

Tor? Maria thought she should seduce Tor?

"What do you mean, Maria?"

Maria squinted at her. "I don't know you. Who are you? Why does no one visit me any more? I want to see my goddaughter. Don't you touch my Tim Tams, they're her favourite, you know." Maria's fingers clawed at the empty biscuit packet, clutching it to her chest.

Catena sighed, but summoned a smile anyway. "Have a lovely weekend, Maria. I'll see you next week. There's a new Persian restaurant around the corner from me, and they make the most amazing sweets. I'll have to bring you some to taste." She kissed Maria's cheek, then rose to leave.

She was still shaking her head by the time she got to the car park. So many wild stories – and how much of them were true? That Maria had heard such tales on her travels, Catena didn't doubt, but whether there was any truth in them...

Seduce the gargoyle. As if she needed any encouragement. Tor already featured in her dreams on a nightly basis. To have him truly in her bed...

No, it'd never happen. That was for crusader ladies in castles and wealthy Roman matrons with their own bathhouses. Or romance heroines in books.

But she could always dream...