Alice hadn’t mentioned that her late brother had a child, so who was Eadie? And why hadn’t Alice shown any of the team this journal before? It was inspiring and uplifting, an unknown part of British life on the home front, featuring animal rescues and human bravery. It was exactly the type of book they had discussed and agreed they wanted: “extraordinary stories of ordinary people.”

“Good morning, Mr. Bloom,” Kenny the elevator operator said, with a curt nod.

Theo felt a wave of nostalgia as he stood by the bank of brass elevators, their intricate panels of polished nickel and brass rivets giving the oversized lobby the appearance of a ship from the nearby Brooklyn yard.

“How are you, Kenny, and how’s your granddaughter?”

“She’s doing very well. Thanks for asking, sir.”

“Very pleased to hear it.”

“And how has London been treating you, Mr. Bloom?”

“She’s been very kind to me, Kenny. I hope to go back—there’s still a lot to do.”

When Theo stepped out of the elevator, he thought of how he’d intended to stay in New York until his father’s condition improved, and now he knew that it wasn’t life-threatening; the doctors appeared to be satisfied that they’d balanced his medications. The next time you see him he’ll be at home, one of the nurses had said cheerily. The issue now wasn’t the need to move his father, it was Walter—and getting on another flight.

“Theo, great to see you,” Walter said, as he jumped up from his seat and came around the desk to give him a vigorous handshake. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here last week to welcome you. It’s terrific to have you back. You can see everything’s been piling up while you’ve been gone.” He motioned toward the stack of folders on his desk.

“I thought the new associate was going to handle things in my absence,” Theo said with a frown.

“Yes, the smaller pieces”—Walter took his arm and guided him toward the chairs—“but we wouldn’t want him involved in any of the bigger deals, would we?”

Theo declined the cigarette Walter offered and took out a Piccadilly, George’s brand, which he now preferred.

“How’s your father?” Walter asked, smoke curling from his mouth.

“It’s early yet, but he’s doing better than expected.”

“That’s good, really good. Your family must be relieved.”

“He’s not out of the woods yet, but his condition is stable.” Theo didn’t want to tempt fate by assuming his father would be all right; the doctors had given them reason to be optimistic but with a note of caution.

Walter tapped his fingers on the side of the chair. “Come on, then . . . tell me all about it.”