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“They were a lot of fun to write,” Theo admitted wistfully. Looking back on the time she had spent scribbling in her notepad of an evening, instead of passed out with exhaustion, she felt a yearning that was almost physical. She had felt bold and audacious and slightly wicked writing those songs. Would she feel the same thrill performing them to an audience? She hoped so.

“Plenty more where they came from, eh?” Lil said looking increasingly cheerful. She was practically rubbing her hands together now in anticipation.

“Oh yes, dozens, it’s just …” Theo looked down at her folded hands in her lap.

“What?” asked Lil.

“I have not had the time recently to work on such things. I’m a terrible housekeeper, Lil. Worse even than I suspected I’d be.”

“Good!” snorted her friend. “Maybe it’ll make them hire someone instead of turning you into their lackey.”

“I don’t know about that,” Theo murmured. “Felix just complains bitterly and expects me to improve.”

“I just bet he does!” Lil seethed. “Well, it’ll be one in his eye when you end up the darling of the music hall, my dear!”

Theo flushed. “You really think we stand a chance?” she breathed, feeling unutterably grateful to have shared the songs to a receptive audience.

Lil nodded. “Oh yes, we stand a chance alright. I should say a good chance.” She looked suddenly wistful. “If only someone would give us a shot at performing them.”

Theo had cleared her throat. “As to that, I have it in hand. We shall have our opportunity.”

Lil’s face had frozen. “You’ve found us a spot already!” she gasped, setting down her teacup with a thud. Theo nodded slowly. “Where?”

Theo gave a small cough. “The—er—Eagle and Sun, as it happens,” she said with a slight quaver to her voice, “in Shoreditch.” She took a hurried sip of her own tea, so she did not have to dwell on Lil’s stunned expression.

“Dabney’s outfit?” Lil uttered in hushed tones once she had recovered from her shock. “But how ever did you manage to persuade him, my dear?” Lil utterly confounded. “I don’t see as how that man’s got a charitable bone in his body.”

Theo fiddled with the collar of her blouse. She did not feel up to confiding in anyone yet about the bargain she had struck, even Lil. “As a matter of fact, he thought it was inspired,” she said scrupulously using Dabney’s very words, though he had been referring at the time to their scheme and not the act at all.

Lil’s eyebrows shot up at this, but before she could question her further, Theo had distracted her by telling her they only had a month to prepare. Then she had plied her with the music and handwritten lyrics and a dozen pages of notes about how she saw their turn unfolding on the stage.

Lil had been so overwhelmed with it all and their pressing time constraints, that she had no time to further interrogate her friend about the whys and wherefores of it all. All too soon their two hours were up, and Lil was forced to hurry away with a sheaf of papers, promising faithfully that she would have committed the words and music to memory by the time of their next meeting.

Theodora had drifted back to the kitchen with a wildly beating heart and a hectic flush on her cheek. She felt happy and scared and reinvigorated. Until Lil had climbed on board, she had not realized how exhausted she was of keeping hope alive all by herself.

Of course, she also had Mr. Dabney as a co-conspirator. Clem, she thought, for he had told her to call him Clem. She had not quite worked up the nerve yet but perhaps this Sunday she would casually address him as such. At the thought of having two allies in her schemes for glory, she had to lean against the kitchen door and hug herself with glee.

It was happening. Finally, she would get her chance to be the actress she had always dreamed she could be. She would show the skills she had accumulated over years of study and practice. She let herself dwell on the incredulity and admiration Lil had showed over her reworking of Harold’s songs. She had not even seen Percy yet, just a pale shadow of him. Theo could not wait to reveal him in his fully realized form.

Even the horrors of the kitchen could not fully dispel how much lighter her shoulders felt after the session with Lil, and in hopes of promoting this newfound serenity, she elected to eat her share of the evening meal by herself in the kitchen that night. This prevented Felix from destroying her new harmonious mood with his complaints.

So efficacious did this prove in maintaining her spirits, that Theo continued this practice for the rest of the week, not only for dinner, but for breakfast also. She only ventured to the dining room to set down the dishes and then scurried back to the kitchen to eat her meals in solitude.

Instead of returning to clear the table while Felix and Harold were still seated, she waited instead for a good hour before venturing to collect the plates and condiments. This way she could avoid all conflict.

She was wholly successful in this endeavor until Saturday morning when she stood eating a piece of bread and butter for her lunch and gazing distractedly out of the kitchen window. Albert had brought her a note from Clem that morning, which had suggested they partook of Sunday lunch together after church. She had replied with a hasty scrawl in the affirmative, although the prospect filled her stomach with butterflies.

A cleared throat from the kitchen doorway made her jump halfway out of her skin. Turning with a muffled exclamation, Theo found Harold Allsop stood hovering in the doorway, an unhappy expression on his face.

“Oh, how you made me jump,” she gasped with relief. “I thought you were Felix for an instant.”

Harold scratched his ear. “May I come in?” he asked diffidently. “I—er—will understand if I am no longer welcome.”

Theo blinked. “Did you want something for your lunch?” she guessed. It was Saturday so likely he had not gone into the city. She made for the kitchen dresser. “There is half a loaf still and some jam—oh, I just ate the last of the jam,” she said with a wince and hurried instead for the cupboard. “There is marmalade, I think …”

Harold flushed. “Please, no, that is not why I came to find you, Theodora.” He looked almost pained. “Will you not sit down?”

Slowly, Theo shut the cupboard door and turned to face him. She breathed in and out. “What do you want, Harold?” she asked, her voice cool. Almost, she was tempted to call him ‘Mr. Allsop,’ but something about his shamefaced expression prevented her.