Iona and Bea had always loved this magical time, just before sleep. They’d lie there, in the dark, holding hands and touching toes, exchanging snippets of their separate days, using their stories of backstage gossip at the theater and the latest goings-on at the magazine to knit their worlds closer together. Bea, who was an excellent mimic, could bring the whole of her current cast to life in the quiet of their bedroom, arguing and flirting with each other. “Night night, Lulu,” she said.
