“No thank you,” Mummy said with a shudder.

“Or you could hop across the border to Mexico, but not all states would recognize a Mexican divorce.”

I could tell Mummy was weakening. “What part would I have to play in this picture? I won’t be anyone’s mother.”

“Honey, you’ll be a sexpot leading lady. A great foil for my darling Stella. You’re a true-blue British gal and a real actress and that’s what I need. Not some Hollywood type trying to play British.”

“And you said this was a picture about Mary Tudor and Prince Philip of Spain?” She sounded dubious. “Where do I come into it?”

“You’d be Mary Tudor, darling,” Stella said.

“And who would you be?”

“Her sister, Elizabeth. You know, the future Queen Elizabeth I. It’s going to be called The Tudor Sisters, or something like that, isn’t it, Cy?”

Mummy shook her head. “I’m sorry, I don’t quite see . . .”

“Simple, Claire, honey.” Cy Goldman rested his cigar on the ashtray and leaned toward her. “The story is all about romance and rivalry. Rivals for the same man, see.”

“Elizabeth and Mary? Which man?”

“Philip of Spain. It goes like this: Phil comes over to marry Mary, but he sees her little sister Elizabeth and falls in love with her instead. So Mary’s going to put Elizabeth in the Tower of London and have her head chopped off, but she meets Philip’s right-hand man, Don Alonso, and she makes a play for him to make Philip jealous but she falls for him. Then Philip finds out that his guy is fooling around with his new wife and they fight a duel and Don Alonso realizes he can’t kill the king of Spain so he dies valiantly. Philip is remorseful and goes back to his wife. Elizabeth is brokenhearted. Good story, huh?”

“Good story?” Mummy said, looking up at me. “It’s utter rubbish. First of all there was no romance between Mary and Philip. It was entirely political and I don’t think they even slept together, did they? And Elizabeth was much younger and I’m sure she didn’t come into the picture at all.”

Cy threw back his head and laughed—that great big bear laugh of his. “It’s a movie, Claire honey. It’s Hollywood, not a history lesson. When history is too dull, I say we spice it up. And Americans just love your British history with all those old queens and princesses.”

“Cy’s actually going to direct it himself. Think of that,” Stella said.

Cy beamed. “You won’t find a better director than me, Claire honey. It will be a tremendous hit. You’ll be a star. What do you say?”

“And that good-looking boy Juan is to play Philip?”

“Absolutely.”

“But he’s not much older than my daughter.”