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Isabelle Shelton

P.S. Yes, Mrs. Talworth is a customer of the shop, but she hasn’t been in for a number of months because she has been with child. I shouldn’t have to mention this, but if she does ring for an appointment, please make sure there is no possibility of Mrs. Lang also coming in on the same day.

19 January 1942

Dear Izzie,

I might not know a great deal about running a dressmaker’s shop, but I do know that a business cannot survive if it does not have paying customers. I am still sorting through the accounts—it is a more monumental task than I imagined it could be—but everything that Miss Reid tells me confirms that we have lost many of those customers who supposedly were so loyal to Mrs. Shelton’s. We need new women coming through the door and spending their money and their precious coupons with us. There is nothing else to it.

Advertising will work. I appreciate that you may not have had the success you hoped for when you placed your advertisement last year, but I want to try. I will use my own funds, if necessary.

Please believe me when I say that. I really do want to try to help this shop and hand it back to you in a better state than you left it. It feels as though it’s the least I can do.

Yours,

Sylvia

P.S. I would not dream of allowing Mrs. Lang and Mrs. Talworth to meet, you have my word. However, could you imagine the dramatics that would ensue if I did?

21 January 1942

Dear Sylvia,

You cannot simply waltz in and change everything about Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions because it suits your whim. Mum did things the way she did for the simple reason that they worked. How else would she have built the business from nothing?

Mum had far more experience than I have, and miles more than you do. You must see that.

I appreciate that you are taking the time to straighten out the shop’s accounts. However, that is all you need to do.

Sincerely,

Isabelle Shelton

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.”