The carpet threatened to swallow feet whole in its pile. The walls had panels of raised plasterwork female figures, painted white and blue to resemble...Wedgwood. The ceiling was slightly vaulted with flutes coming together at six lighting points where chandeliers hung from ornate plaster roses.The Footman, who had shown them up the curved staircase, closed the tall doors behind them and announced to the room; “Paul and Abigail are among us.” He reopened the doors and left, his tails almost being. “Hey, producer,” I say.“Hey, Mr. Producer, you,” she retorts. She addresses Louisa. “Alan and I have taken the theatre world by storm.”“She's the Max Bialystock to my Leo Bloom,” I say.“Shut up.” She looks pleasantly shocked. “That's the coolest reference.”We laugh and Louisa does too, even if she doesn't get why we're funny. After so long since last meeting her, I can't help but study Joanna's style as we sit down. Classy sunglasses perched over her ochre brown hair. Blue denim jacket, Capri. More

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