“I’ll send them to Auntie Emma,” said Sophie. “Since she’s so fond of Grandma Jo, she can tell them all about her.”

“No, I won’t,” said Emma. “I’ll tell my own children everything I know, but I’ll make them swear not to breathe a word to your horrid brats. If you want to know anything, you’ll have to go to Aunt Amy.”

“Ooh.” Sophie shuddered.

“Aunt Amy is Mom’s umpteenth cousin twice removed,” Lulu told Charlie. “She’s a terrifying old thing who lives in Boston and keeps going on about the Faaam’ly.”

“She’s very kind to you girls,” said Fee. “She doesn’t have children of her own, and you’re more important to her than you might think.”

“She sends us money on our birthdays,” said Lulu. “All wrapped up in weird little lectures about spending it sensibly and not frittering it away, and every so often she descends on London and wants to see what we’ve bought with it.”

“She’ll be pleased to see this,” said Sophie. She drew one knee to her chest and displayed a trim ankle adorned with a small, vividly colored butterfly.

“You didn’t!” said Emma. “Mom, did you know about that?”

“She’s over twenty-one, and it’s her body,” said Fee. “It wouldn’t be my choice, but she’s not asking me to do it.”

“I’ve wanted one for ages, haven’t I, Mom?” said Sophie. “I’d really like to have a huge one going all the way down my arm, but it’s no good for my work. A small one’s okay, though—Helen Mirren has one.”

“She also has a career,” said Lulu.

She had spoken in fun, but Lulu had yet to discover the line between teasing and unkindness.

“Lulu!” said Sophie, her blue eyes clouding in hurt.

Lulu had an unfortunate tendency, when she knew she was in the wrong, to say things that only made matters worse.

“Oh, please,” she said now, wearily. “I was only joking! Don’t be so sensitive, it’s really annoying.”

“I don’t think it was a very funny joke, sweetie,” said Fee. “Why don’t you apologize to your sister and tell her you didn’t mean it.”

But Lulu, finding herself now set on a course of cruelty towards her sister, did not yet possess the personal skill to turn it around.

“Who says I don’t mean it?” she demanded. “How come it’s okay for all of you to go on and on at me about my career, but I’m not even allowed to comment on hers, even though she hasn’t had an acting job since October?”

“I have!” said Sophie. “I worked all the end of last year, remember?”

“Third helper from the right at Selfridge’s Christmas Grotto doesn’t count as acting work, Soph.”

“I was the chief elf, actually,” said Sophie. “And of course it counts as acting work, unless you think I actually became an elf for four weeks, which, knowing you, you just might. Anyway, at least I know what I want to do with my life, not like some.”