First published by Allen & Unwin in 2021

Copyright © text and internal illustrations, Anna Ciddor 2021

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in

any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
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the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational
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Allen & Unwin

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Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: info@allenandunwin.com
Web: www.allenandunwin.com

A catalogue record for this

book is available from the
National Library of Australia

ISBN 978 1 76052 644 3

For teaching resources, explore

www.allenandunwin.com/resources/for-teachers

Cover illustration by Kate Moon

Internal illustrations by Anna Ciddor
Set in 12.25/16pt Bembo by Midlands Typesetters, Australia
Printed in Australia in March 2021 by McPherson’s Printing Group

www.annaciddor.com

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

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 Villa Rubia

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 This book would not have been possible without
the collaboration of my amazing sister,Tamara
Lewit. She inspired me, helped me brainstorm
plot ideas, critiqued every word as I wrote it,
and used her brilliant skills as a historian
and archaeologist to unearth the tiniest details
I needed about ancient Romans.

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 Arelate

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 1

CAMILLA . . . WHO?
‘I CAN’T WEAR THAT!’ wailed Perry, when his mother
pulled his costume out of the suitcase.
‘It’s what Roman boys used to wear,’ she insisted,
dropping it over his head. 
‘But . . .’
Perry looked in the mirror and groaned. He was
wearing a bright yellow dress that reached down to
his knees, with big red circles on the skirt and sleeves.
‘Why couldn’t I just be a soldier?’ he grumbled.
‘Because we’re going to a Roman grape harvest
festival, not a battle re-­­ enactment,’ said Mum.
‘I couldn’t let you dress up as a legionary.’
Perry rolled his eyes.
‘I copied a picture of a boy from late Roman
times,’ Mum went on. ‘It’s . . .’

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 T H E B OY W H O S T E P P E D T H R O U G H T I M E

‘Authentic!’ yelled Perry and his big sister

together, and they both started laughing. ‘Authentic’
was Mum’s favourite word because she couldn’t just
say ‘correct’ like a normal person.
‘Well, it is authentic,’ protested Mum. ‘I even
made it for you in my weaving class.’
That explains the lumpy, scratchy wool, thought
Perry.
‘Actually, I think you look quite cool,’ said
Melissa, snapping photos of him with her phone.
Mum turned to her suitcase again. ‘Melissa and
I are getting dressed now. You wait in the guest
lounge,’ she said.
Perry goggled at her. ‘I’m not . . .’
‘You can take off the tunic for now,’ said Mum,
dragging out something blue. ‘Just put it on when
we get there.’
With a surge of relief, Perry scrambled into shorts
and a T-­shirt, and kicked his costume under the bed.
If he was lucky, they’d forget it and leave it behind.
In the hotel lounge, Dad was scrolling through
the sports news on his iPad.
‘Did we win?’ demanded Perry.
Dad nodded, and leaned back, smiling, in the
squeaky leather chair.
‘Yes!’ cheered Perry. The only bad part about
coming on holidays to the south of France was

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 CAMILLA . . . WHO ?

missing out on going to footy matches back in

Australia.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be putting on a
costume?’ said Dad.
‘I’ll chuck it on when we get there,’ Perry
grunted. ‘How come Mum hasn’t made you
dress up?’
‘Mum knows I never dress up,’ chuckled Dad,
and went back to reading his news.
Perry stood beside him, fidgeting with the mini
high-­bounce ball he kept in his pocket, and gazing
at the tempting expanse of hard, tiled floor. He
slipped the ball from his pocket, bounced it once,
and looked around. No one was watching. Grinning,
he bounced it again, harder this time. Whoops . . .
the fluoro green ball went skittering across the floor.
Perry lunged after it, crashed into the wall, and
scooped up the ball.
‘This is no place to play rough games,’ snapped a
voice with a posh English accent.
Perry straightened up guiltily. There was a small
man, almost hidden in a high-­ backed armchair,
glaring at him over a pair of spectacles.
‘You could have damaged that picture,’ scolded
the man, gesturing at the wall behind Perry. ‘That’s
a rare fragment of Roman wall painting. Nearly two
thousand years old.’

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 T H E B OY W H O S T E P P E D T H R O U G H T I M E

Perry turned.
A square of glass covered part of the wall, and
behind it was a section of old, cracked plaster with
flecks of coloured paint on it. Perry looked at it,
trying to see how it made a picture. Those green,
faded shapes could be leaves, and that might be a
thin, curvy tree trunk, and . . .
‘Hey Dad, check this out,’ he said, hurrying back
to his father. ‘There’s an old Roman painting over
there. But . . .’ He lowered his voice to a whisper.
‘Watch out for the old grouch in the armchair.’
Dad turned off his iPad, stretched noisily, and
strolled across the room.
The man scowled at them, but went back to
reading his book.
Perry pointed at the painting on the wall.‘See?’ he
whispered. ‘It looks like a tree with a cat peeking out.’
Dad tilted his head to one side. ‘I think you’ve
got a good imagination,’ he said. ‘All I can see are
green and brown blobs.’
The morning was nearly over by the time Mum
and Melissa came downstairs. To Perry’s disappoint-
ment, Mum was carrying his tunic.
‘How do we look?’ asked Melissa, and they both
twirled around to show off their dangly bead earrings
and long dresses with wide, colourful stripes down
the front.

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 CAMILLA . . . WHO ?

Dad raised his eyebrows. ‘I thought Romans

wore those sheet things – what were they called?
Togas?’
‘Togas! Women didn’t wear togas,’ scoffed Mum.
‘Anyway . . .’ She glanced down at her dress. ‘This is
late Roman style. When togas weren’t the fashion
anymore.’
Perry caught Melissa’s eye. ‘It’s authentic, Dad,’
they chorused together.
Dad smiled. ‘Of course it is,’ he said. ‘Well, we’d
better get going if you want to reach the festival
before it finishes.’
Mum slid into the driver’s seat of the hire car.
‘Don’t get us lost, Martin,’ she warned, turning
to Dad. ‘Which way first?’
‘Uh . . . ’ As usual, Dad swivelled his phone round
trying to work out the satnav directions.
‘Oh, Dad,’ snorted Melissa. ‘Give it to me. Mum,
just go straight,’ she instructed.
Then she picked up her own phone again.
‘Hey, Perry, everyone loves your costume,’ she
said, holding the screen towards him.
‘Melissa, which way?’ screeched Mum, as an
intersection loomed in front of them.
‘Oops, hang on . . . right, no . . . go round that
old Roman ruin.’
‘Hey, that’s Constantine’s bathhouse,’ said Perry.

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 T H E B OY W H O S T E P P E D T H R O U G H T I M E

‘This is the way we came yesterday when we went

to the museum.’
‘Don’t mention that museum,’ groaned Melissa.
‘I still can’t believe you and Mum spent two hours
looking at dead people.’
‘It wasn’t dead people. It was ancient stone
coffins. From Roman times,’ protested Perry.
‘Same thing.’
‘Well, they were interesting. I found one of a
girl who died when she was exactly my age: eleven
years, two months and one day old. Her name . . .’
‘You and your numbers,’ burst in his big sister.
‘Anyway, how do you know? You can’t read Latin.’
‘I can a bit,’ he said. ‘Mum was teaching me on
the plane, but . . .’
‘Mum, Mum, turn here!’ shrieked Melissa.
Mum swung the wheel, and the next moment
they were zooming down the autoroute.
But Perry’s thoughts were still back at the
museum. He was trying to remember the name of
the girl from that coffin. It had started with C . . .
Camilla something? And then he forgot about her
as he noticed the other cars flying past so fast they
were almost a blur.
‘Wow, what’s the speed limit here?’ he asked.
‘I don’t think there is one!’ cried Mum.
‘I need something to eat,’ said Melissa, tapping

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 CAMILLA . . . WHO ?

on her phone. ‘It’s ages since breakfast. I’m checking

where there’s a good cafe.’
‘Can we at least get out of Arles first?’ pleaded
Dad.

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 Also by Anna Ciddor

52 Mondays
The Family with Two Front Doors
Runestone
Wolfspell
Stormriders
Night of the Fifth Moon

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