The Dressmakers of London

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Fifteen

Izzie pushed her letter into the postbox and prayed that it would arrive at Sylvia’s flat before her sister did anything rash. It was quite possible, she was beginning to realize, that asking Sylvia to take over while she was away had been a terrible idea, but what other recourse did she have at the time?

She turned and nearly walked straight into someone. Her hand shot out to steady the other woman, and that was when she realized the woman had a familiar face.

“Oh! Lady Alexandra, I didn’t see you there.”

Immediately the other woman’s expression fell. “So you know then?”

“Know what?” she asked, a little confused before she realized what she’d called the other woman. “Oh, one of the other girls told me. I think I’m meant to call you Lady Alexandra. Is that not right?” It wasn’t as though a dressmaker from Maida Vale had frequent enough brushes with the aristocracy that she was completely up on her honorifics and forms of address.

“No, no, it’s right,” said Alexandra gloomily.

Izzie frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Alexandra chewed on her lip. “It’s silly, really. I just… All of the girls in my hut found out about Daddy, and they started acting a bit, well, funny. I just thought…”

“No one was mean to you, were they?” Izzie asked sharply.

“No, nothing like that,” said Alexandra.

“Then what?” she asked.

Alexandra heaved a sigh. “It’s little things. They stop talking when I walk into the hut. If I queue up for a shower, everyone will step out of the way.”

“They’re treating you differently.”

Alexandra nodded. “It’s silly, really, but I was educated at home, and there aren’t many girls my age nearby. I thought I might meet other women during the Season, but then, of course, court presentations were suspended when the war began.”

“You’re lonely,” said Izzie, understanding more than her new friend could probably know.

“I suppose it sounds ridiculous. Daughter of an earl, lonely. Why should anyone want to spend any pity on me?”

“It doesn’t matter who your father is, you can still be lonely. I should know.”

Alexandra looked up. “Really?”

“Yes.” It surprised Izzie a little bit that she really believed it to be true. Her circumstances might be different, but what friends did she have outside of the dress shop other than Willie? When she’d been in school, it hadn’t really mattered, because she’d had Sylvia at home. But when Sylvia left, Izzie’s world had shrunk down to the shop.

“I thought that by joining the WAAF I would fall into friendship with all sorts of girls,” said Alexandra. “Didn’t you?”

“I was mostly preoccupied with what would happen to the shop,” Izzie admitted.

“Oh,” said Alexandra.

She hated to see this young woman who seemed to have boundless enthusiasm and a forward sort of kindness to match so down, so she drew back her shoulders and stuck out her hand.

“Aircraft Woman Second Class Sumner? It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Aircraft Woman Second Class Shelton, and I was just going to NAAFI. Would you like to join me for a little friendly chat?”

Alexandra brightened. “Really?”

“Really. Besides, you owe me a cup of tea, remember?”

Alexandra laughed. “Three cups of tea. I am a woman who always pays my debts.”

As they started to walk together toward the NAAFI’s entrance, Alexandra asked, “Has the word from home improved at all?”

“Sylvia is making changes.”

“What sort of changes?” asked Alexandra.

She told Alexandra about the deposits and payments upon collection. The advertisements and Sylvia acting as a debt collector.

“She’s on such a tear, I worry she’s going to drive our customers away,” Izzie finished.

“What is wrong with asking customers to pay, or with advertising?” asked Alexandra.

“Mum thought it made the shop seem common, as though we were begging for business,” Izzie said.

Alexandra cocked her head to one side. “Then how are you supposed to find new customers?”

Izzie shifted uncomfortably. It was exactly what Sylvia had written to her and, if she was being truly honest, what she had wondered when she’d fought so hard to place that advertisement in the paper the previous year.

“Mum believed in the power of our reputation. One woman tells her sister who tells her neighbor that she really must go to Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions for her clothes,” she said.

“Well, I’m certain that it’s a system that works very well, especially if you have such a loyal set of customers,” said Alexandra before approaching the counter to order them two cups of tea and two chocolate bars.

As they waited, Izzie chewed the inside of her cheek. Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions had had loyal customers—and they still did—but it was obvious that far fewer of them were coming in to the shop these days. And the way that Sylvia had written with such relief about retrieving ￡500 in the unpaid accounts made her wonder just how badly Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions had been impacted by the war.

When they were settled at a table, Izzie said, “Perhaps I’m being a bit too harsh on my sister.”

“She might have some good ideas, if you’re willing to listen,” said Alexandra.

“I just don’t trust Sylvia. She hasn’t had any interest in the shop since she got married—”

“To Horrible Hugo, the man we can’t stand?” Alexandra asked, quoting Izzie back to herself. “What it is that makes him so awful?”

“He’s always thought that Mum and I were below him.”

“Then why did he marry your sister?” asked Alexandra.

She sighed. “She was beautiful, and she was completely caught up in him.”

“How so?” asked Alexandra before taking a sip of her tea.

“As soon as Hugo took Sylvia out for the first time, she started to change. She’d always paid close attention to her appearance, but she began to alter how she behaved, how she spoke. Suddenly she had no time for us at home. It was all dancing at nightclubs and going to the theater and spending time with his friends who were far more sophisticated than anyone we associated with—even Mum’s customers. It was almost as though she started to believe she was too good for all of us on Glengall Road, but she seemed happy, so I was happy for her.

“Then Hugo asked Sylvia to marry him.” Izzie cradled her cup as she stared into it. “I’m her only sister, so you would think that it would be obvious I would be asked to be a bridesmaid in the wedding, wouldn’t you?”

Alexandra nodded.

“Well, when she first told me she was engaged she was so overjoyed she started talking about what kind of dress Mum should design me,” she said. “A week passes, and Sylvia sits me down. She says that she’s had a think and wouldn’t it be best if Hugo’s friend’s wife Claire stood up for her? Sylvia claimed that Mrs. Pearsall, her future mother-in-law, thought it would make more sense for a grown woman to stand up with her. Besides, Sylvia didn’t want to burden me with the job.”

“But you didn’t think being your sister’s bridesmaid would be a burden at all, did you?” asked Alexandra gently.

“No. I think Sylvia let Mrs. Pearsall convince her that if I wasn’t up there at the altar with her it would be easier to keep Mum and me and the dress shop quiet.”

“But you’re family,” said Alexandra.

“That didn’t matter. Sylvia told us that we weren’t to talk about the shop at the wedding, and she refused to let Mum make her wedding dress. Mrs. Pearsall took her to Worth instead to find something ‘more suitable.’ As though Mum wasn’t just as skilled as the seamstresses at Worth.

“The entire wedding was terrible. Hardly anyone spoke to Mum and me at the church, and no one seemed to know who we were. But the wedding breakfast was the worst. Mum and I were stuck in a corner of the room, and Sylvia didn’t once look our way. We left early.”

“I can understand why,” said Alexandra.

“Sylvia has always hated the shop. She used to talk all the time about what things were like when Dad was alive. He came from a good family, went to the right sort of schools, knew the right sort of people. He was in his pupilage, training to become a barrister, when he met Mum. She was working as a seamstress at his tailor’s, and they met when he came in for a fitting. Mum said that once his suit was finished, he came in the following week for a pair of trousers. Then it was a shirt, a jacket.” She smiled. “Finally, when he had nearly an entire new wardrobe, he plucked up the courage when her employer was called to the telephone to ask her to dine with him.

“Mum said that they fell in love so fast she hardly gave a thought to the fact that she hadn’t met his family before they became engaged. When she did, she realized that marrying a seamstress was not what the Sheltons had in mind for their only son.”

“Oh no,” murmured Alexandra.

“Mum and Dad married, and they had Sylvia and me. They were happy until one day Dad was struck down by a lorry on his way home from work,” she said.

“How tragic,” whispered Alexandra.

It was more tragic than Izzie would admit to Alexandra. She’d only been seven when it happened, but over the years, Mum had given her little snatches of the story until she’d finally been able to piece it all together. The sudden shut-off of income that had sent the family teetering on the line of poverty.

“Mum had no family of her own, so she opened the dress shop out of necessity,” she explained. “Without it, I don’t know what she would have done.”

It was one of the things about her mother she was most proud of. Even in dire straits Mum had managed not only to survive but to build something successful. How Sylvia could turn her nose up at that, Izzie didn’t understand.

Alexandra gave an embarrassed little laugh. “And here I was feeling sorry for myself because I sometimes feel awkward speaking to other women because I’m an honorable.”

Izzie smiled, appreciating Alexandra’s self-deprecation.

“It sounds as though your mother was an extraordinary woman,” said Alexandra.

“She was. She taught me everything I know about sewing.”

And yet…

How often had she shown Mum a sketch of a potential design for a customer only to be turned down? How often had Mum told Izzie she wasn’t ready to run the business? How little had Mum really trusted her with that in the end she’d left half the shop to Sylvia?

As though sensing that she needed a change of topic, Alexandra said, “And now you’re here.”

In a NAAFI, on a training ground, dressed in a WAAF’s blues.

“Where do you think they’ll send you?” asked Alexandra.

“I assume a tailor’s shop,” Izzie said. “What about you?”

“I just hope they assign me to anything but cooking, if not for my sake then for that of those who would have to eat my food,” said Alexandra.

“It can’t be that bad,” Izzie said with a laugh.

“Our cook tried to teach me because my mother thought it’s a valuable skill every woman should know a bit of. She didn’t think she would one day become a countess when she married Daddy, you see. The only problem was, it turns out that even the family dogs wouldn’t eat my cooking, and they’ll eat anything.”

Izzie laughed. “Well, wherever you go, at least you’ll have a uniform that fits you.”

Alexandra struck a little pose. “I’ve been asked so many times how I managed to alter it so well, I’ve been singing your praises.”

“That might explain all of the girls coming to ask me to take in and let out skirts,” Izzie said. “I should probably give you a cut.”

Alexandra shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of taking a shilling. Besides, maybe you can make enough to buy your sister out of the other half of your shop.”

Izzie smiled and took a sip of tea. “Maybe I will.”

Wouldn’t that be something?