“I thought you said Hughie didn’t deal with theater,” said Emma.

“He doesn’t,” said Sophie. “But at a certain point I felt it was only fair to let him know that was where my real focus was. It’s not right to lead people on to think you’ll be dealing with them forever, so I told him my feelings and asked him if he could maybe introduce me to one of the artistic directors at one of the big theaters, Kevin at the Old Vic, say, or Marcus at the Vagabond, but he doesn’t seem to want to for some reason. I don’t think he’s ready to give me up to the competition.”

“More likely he doesn’t want to subject them to the horror,” said Lulu.

“I can see the headlines now,” said Emma. “Kevin Spacey and Marcus Wickham found cold and stiff in respective offices, having been talked to death by rising young actress.”

“I think it’s all very exciting,” said Charlie, reaching across Lulu to pass a bagel to Javier. “Don’t you, Javier? Almost nobody makes it as an actress, Sophie, and here you are with two television roles within six months, and promise of more next year. You’re really on your way, aren’t you?”

“Thank you, Charles,” said Sophie. “It’s nice that somebody appreciates me, at least. Javier, have some of the black currant jam before Emma hogs it all. When my Rosalind opens at the Vagabond, you two can come to the after-party, and those two can’t. They’re completely horrible old bags.”

“Ah, the sweet sound of birds in their little nest agreeing.” Fee, who had been on a telephone call, sat herself down at the table. “Sorry about that, folks, I had to take the call. Have the girls been looking after you, Javier? Do you have enough coffee, Charlie?”

She pronounced the name Chah-lie with a broad “a” in the Boston fashion, which her two younger daughters pounced on with delight.

“Mom’s gone native,” said Lulu. “Which means she’s been talking to Aunt Amy. How is the old de-ah, Moth-ah?”

“Amy Pah-kah has gone down to the Chahles Rivah,” said Sophie. “For a bah-eld beef dinn-ah and a trip to the theat-ah.”

“Havin’ pah-ked her cah in Hah-vahd.”

“It keeps them happy,” Fee told Charlie and Javier. “It’s not illegal. And they do run down eventually. Are you two ready yet to hear what Aunt Amy said in this telephone call you’re giving yourselves such a good time making fun of?”

“Ceh-tainly, Moth-ah.” Sophie lowered her voice to a dowager-esque growl, and sat up ramrod straight in her chair. “We’re ve’y, ve’y grand,” she told Charlie. “And we have peh-fect post-ure.”

Aunt Amy was also, thought Lulu suddenly, a descendant of one of the women Grandma Jo had sent letters to a century ago and half the world away.

“How are we related, anyway?” she asked. “I’ve never known.”

“She and I share the same great-great-grandparents,” said Fee. “I’m the great-granddaughter of Grandma Jo, and she’s the great-granddaughter of Jo’s sister Amy, if you want to work that one out.”