“What’s all this?” Frances said, the way she would to one of her children if they’d made a mess.

“Do not ever let it be said that I broke up a bridge game.”

“Oh, Papa, no.”

Audrey couldn’t get over the Papa bit. From another century, or country.

“We can take our coffee in the sunroom.”

“I’d like to play. I haven’t played bridge with you since you were—”

“We never played bridge, Papa. Not once.” But she took the seat to his left.

Which meant that Sue had to sit down opposite her, because they were always partners. Which put Audrey facing Frances’s father.

He gave her a slight somber bow, though he was seated.

“Papa.” She couldn’t stop saying it, as if she’d been denied a candy and was now cramming them into her mouth. “This is Audrey Pennet and Susan West.”

“Ben Yardley,” he said to Sue and put out his hand.

“Pleasure,” Sue said coolly. She liked fighting other people’s battles.

He turned to Audrey. “Partner,” he said. His hand was small and warm. She watched it join the other to deal. Small quick hands.

She wasn’t lucky in cards. She never fanned them open and saw anything spectacular. She wasn’t that kind of person. Fortunately Elinor, her usual partner, was. So was Sue. And even Frances on occasion had a good streak. Audrey was the B actor of bridge. She had learned to play her mediocrity well.

He dealt her an extraordinary hand.

She hardly knew how to contain herself. She quickly added up the points. Three aces, two kings, a queen, a jack. A void in diamonds. Eight spades. Twenty-five points. She kept her eyes down. But oh how she wanted to look up and let him see it in her face.

He bid one heart. Perfect. The only suit she didn’t have an ace in.

Sue bid one no trump. Audrey bid two spades. Frances passed, Ben passed, Sue bid two no trump.

“Five spades,” Audrey said. She hoped not too loudly.

“You’re insane,” Frances said. “Double.”

Ben was the dummy and she played the round easily, feeling his approval without having to search for it.

“That’s my girl and a half,” he said when she took the last trick. It was something her own father used to say. Girl and a half.

They played out the rubber. Each hand was like Christmas. The aces and face cards sparkling at her like jewels.

“Why don’t we take a coffee break?” Sue said. “And maybe switch things around when we come back.”

He lowered his eyebrows conspiratorially. “They’re trying to break us up, Audrey.”

The kitchen was filled with sun. They squinted at each other as Frances moved briskly about.

“I’ll get the cups,” Audrey said, opening the cupboard.

“No, I want to use the Spode.”

“Where are they?”