Coals burn hot and bright under the stove and Astra busies herself with adding herbs into a pot before stirring and tasting, then pinching other seasonings and stirring those in. There's a rosy flush to her cheeks and she's humming an old song as she works, her spirits high as she anticipates the evening ahead. Her Jacqueline was bringing someone round for dinner, someone whom she believed could perhaps be a potential beau of her daughters. "Jack" she calls to her beloved over her shoulder "'ave you feenished peeling zose vegetables, mon amour? Ze stew is ready for zem."