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The Dressmakers of London

Page 39

by Julia Kelly

Sylvia

10 January 1942

Dear Sylvia,

Oh, I wish you hadn’t done those things! Miss Keynes has been a customer of Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions for so long that we should show her some grace. Mum trusted that she would eventually clear her account because she always has. Now she might very well take her business somewhere else and we will have lost a customer who has been with us for so many years!

I hope you are joking about ringing around to the women who have unsettled accounts. There are reasons that none of those bills have been paid. Money is tighter than it ever has been for everyone, and we can’t know what the ladies who patronize the shop may be going through.

Mum always believed that a woman should be well dressed no matter what her situation. She would never have approved of the idea of holding our customers up for money like we are highway robbers in a penny novel. She would have wanted us to extend understanding and grace to these women rather than bully them.

Also, I should not have to say this, but it is vital that you not speak to anyone about who pays Mrs. Lang’s bills. She is a well-respected member of the Women’s Institute and she does the flowers for her church. If the scandal were to get out it would be awful. You must promise me that you will not tell a soul!

Sincerely,

Isabelle Shelton

P.S. I don’t recall Mum ever mentioning Mr. Manon. Bookkeeping and designing were the two things she never relinquished control of, even in her final months.

13 January 1942

Dear Izzie,

Calm yourself. I promise that I did not bully a single one of our customers. (Well, perhaps Miss Keynes, a little bit, but that was only because she was so bold-faced about what she was doing.) All I did was ask for payment that was past due—sometimes nearly a year past due—for work that had already been done. It is what any other business owner might have done if they had found themselves in the same unfortunate position.

I understand that our mother was grateful to the ladies who have been customers for years. However, you cannot deny that these same women have been taking advantage of that generosity. Payment whenever suits the client is no way to run a business. A shop cannot continue to be a shop if there is no income. Plain and simple.

With the new rules I have put into place regarding deposits and payment, we should no longer have this issue, and I can refocus my thinking on other aspects of the shop.

I have decided that I am going to take out advertisements promoting the shop in several of the local papers. I am hoping that will drive new business from ladies who are interested in using their coupons on something a little more interesting and unique than what they can find in the department stores. My only concern is that Mum’s patterns are a little tired; however, I’m certain that Miss Reid can work some of her magic to refresh them.

Don’t worry about where the money for the advertising will come from. I’ve decided to use some of my pin money toward it. There’s little else that one’s allowed to buy these days.

Yours,

Sylvia

P.S. Did you know that there is a Mrs. Talworth on our books as a customer as well? I wonder if that is the same Mrs. Talworth as Mr. Talworth, Mrs. Lang’s clothing-purchasing paramour…

Chapter Fourteen

Sylvia snuck a glimpse at her watch as she hustled as quickly down South Audley Street as she dared in her heels. She’d had every intention of making it to Lady Nolan’s meeting in good time, having planned to arrive ten minutes early to join the other ladies of the committee as they mingled and sipped cups of tea. However, when she’d opened the shop that morning, there had been no electricity. Given that she and Miss Reid were expecting Mrs. Chapman for a fitting, followed swiftly by the arrival of a Mrs. Karber, who wanted a new winter dress, Sylvia had marched to the telephone box down the road to ring both women to reschedule their appointments. Then she’d made a long, expensive telephone call to the electricity company to explain in a decidedly stern tone that she had, in fact, paid the shop’s bill as Izzie had instructed and that the power should be restored immediately. Many coins later, she’d received the reassurances of a harried clerk that the lights would be back on in no time.

She’d shot out of the telephone booth and into the shop to scoop up her handbag. An agitated Miss Reid had tried to stop her to speak, but Sylvia had called over her shoulder that whatever it was would have to wait until she returned.

Now, after sitting on a slow-moving bus for what felt like hours, she skipped up the three steps to the front door and cranked the old-fashioned bell key. Lady Nolan’s housekeeper answered almost immediately.

“Good afternoon,” she said breathlessly, daring to hope that the meeting might not have started.

“Mrs. Pearsall, I believe the other ladies began at two o’clock,” the housekeeper said as she took Sylvia’s coat.

Sylvia’s heart sank. She would have to walk through the drawing room, find a seat, and sit down while everyone scrutinized her.

Bracing herself, she followed the housekeeper to the drawing room and waited for the woman to open the door for her. With a deep breath, she pulled her chin back and walked into the belly of the beast.

From her Louis XIV chair at the top of the room, Lady Nolan observed her entrance with a raised brow. “Mrs. Pearsall. So good of you to join us.”

Sylvia forced herself to smile even as she felt every other woman’s gaze settle on her as she began to round the circle of chairs. “I do apologize for being late.”