I debated whether to tell her, but decided it was none of my business. I finished handing around coffee then sat on the sofa beside my mother. Charlie immediately came over and squeezed in beside me. “Now isn’t this cozy,” he said as he rested one hand casually on my knee. “So tell me all about the royal family. All the juicy scandals with the Prince of Wales.” And he walked his fingers up my thigh. I wasn’t sure whether to slap his hand or not and decided to pretend that it didn’t bother me that one of the most famous men in the world was now trying to seduce me. Two of them in two days. I rather wished that Fig could see me now.

We were still drinking coffee when Ronnie came back to join us.

“So what do we do in the evenings?” Mummy asked. “I don’t see a bridge table, or a gramophone.”

“Mr. Goldman doesn’t go in for parlor games and such,” Ronnie replied. “He has a full cinema in the basement where he’ll be happy to show you his latest successes.”

“I don’t feel like watching a film at this hour,” Mummy said.

“We could play some kind of game if you’d like to organize it, I’m sure,” Ronnie said. “Charades? Twenty questions?”

“I don’t feel like that either.” Mummy gave a bored sort of sigh. “I need a little excitement. It’s been horribly dull since I came here. Come to think of it Homer Clegg turned out to be as dull as ditchwater. Is it always horribly dull in America?”

“I have a little something in my purse that might make you feel better, if you like.” Stella moved over to Mummy and whispered in her ear, just loud enough for me to overhear. “I’m willing to share if you want to go through to the kitchen. God knows I need cheering up too. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Darling, I can’t take drugs in front of my daughter. What would she think of me?” Mummy said. There was an awkward sort of silence. I noticed Barbara Kindell watching Stella and Mummy with interest. Presumably she had also overheard. I wondered if Stella’s cocaine use would show up in tomorrow’s gossip columns.

“Cy always was a rotten host,” Mrs. Goldman said. “Of course he grew up with no sort of refinement. I’ve tried to educate him but he’s never even bothered to learn bridge. But then . . . he has found other less savory games to play.” And she stared pointedly at Stella.