by Glynis Smy
Kitty knew she had a good eye for design and had found the changes she made rewarding. The shop had become a showroom for a tailored suit and a child's party dress. But the pièce de résistance was a theatre gown in soft blue velvet. Kitty had added a Peacock blue satin trim and bodice buttons. The bustle was subtle and not as prominent as in previous years.
Sarah touched the buttons.
‘Their design is so elegant. Your ladies will flock here once the word of mouth goes around.’
Kitty joined Sarah, and handed her a few buttons.
'I have a present for you. Put these away, and when you are out of your best widow’s gown, brighten it up with these. It will be perfect for church. A small trim around the cuffs and neck, add these little buttons, and it will be transformed.’
Sarah turned the small objects around in her palm. ‘Thank you, oh, thank you. The restrictions of widow’s black can make a grey day even greyer. If I had my way, I would wear navy blue forever, but never black.’
Kitty moved to the main counter. ‘Think nothing of it. Thank you, for minding the shop this afternoon. There are no appointments, and Patrick has taken all collections. He offered to help me out. It was thoughtful of him; it means I can deliver this pile here.’ She pointed to a consignment of a dozen starched white linen pinafores. ‘Would you be a dear and help me pack them please? I might be good with needle and thread, but brown paper and string drive me to distraction.’
One by one the pinafores were folded into neat squares. Kitty had embroidered the household initials of her customer, into the left hand corner of each one. She was pleased with the outcome and hoped her customer would feel the same. It had been quite a challenge.
'There, all done. They do look smart, Kitty. Now off you go, and have no concerns about me or the shop. Take your time. The weather is in your favour today.'
'Thank you, Sarah. This is my favourite customer. She always takes the time to greet me in person and discuss her orders. Plus her cook bakes the most delicious fancies. There is always one for me.'
'A wonder you keep that waist trim without stays young lady. If I was to eat one sweet fancy, I would need a navy gang to pull the ties.'
Laughing, Kitty left the shop. She enjoyed delivering to Mrs Chapman. She had been a friend of her mother's employer and had known Kitty for many years. The woman took pleasure in embroidered works and praised the ability of both Kitty and Sarah. She often referred to Kitty as 'my dressmaker' and had sent many customers her way. Her one clause to any order for herself was Kitty delivered in person.
On arrival to the Chapman home, she was shown into the inner hall as usual to wait for the lady of the house. However it transpired there was a surprise in store for her today. One of the household maids approached and told her that she was to follow her. Mrs Chapman had instructed Kitty should join her for tea in the drawing room. A small flutter of anxiety was soon squashed. She could do this. Fortunately her clothes were always clean and presentable. The hall was soft with carpets. Beautiful artwork and lace trims adorned the walls and tables. The maid announced her arrival and ushered Kitty into the room. For one brief moment time stood still. She glanced around the room; it was enormous and very luxurious. Large ornate lamps hung from the centre of the ceiling, long thick gilt chains supported them. Chintz curtains and yards of draped material lay across the top of the window frames. Ornaments and knick-knacks covered every flat surface Kitty could see. A voice startled her out of her daydream. She remembered her manners, and moved toward her hostess,
‘Kitty. Welcome. Ladies, this is Miss Harper. The young lady I have been telling you about.’
They were introduced as Mrs Evelyn Whitfield, the future mayor’s wife, and Mrs Eliza Bloyce.
Nora Chapman took Kitty by the hand and manoeuvred her into an enormous wing backed chair. She faced the two other women, and gave a shy smile.
The group sat around a small table covered in crisp white linen, with what Kitty knew to be a French lace overlay. To be surrounded by beautiful linens added to the excitement of the visit. Delicate china, dainty sandwiches, and fancy cakes on a tiered plate were placed on it by a maid. There was not a tin mug or chipped plate in the room.
‘I want you to relax, Kitty. Enjoy the afternoon. There is much to discuss.’
She handed her a cup and saucer. The saucer had a small doily that absorbed drips from the cup. Kitty knew her hand shook and prayed she would not slop too much tea in the dish. Mrs Whitfield laid a napkin across her lap with one hand, and Kitty copied. She felt sure that the woman was guiding her. She smiled her thanks when she was offered one of the small iced buns. When the others bit into theirs, she followed. The cake was delicious. Her nerves subsided and she was determined to enjoy her first ladies tea party. Although she was bemused as to why she had been invited.
‘I have shown my friends several of your pieces, Kitty. They are impressed by your high standard of work.’ Nora Chapman, looked to her friends for confirmation, both women nodded.
‘Thank you, Mrs Chapman. As you are aware, my mother taught me. I find it a pleasure, where others might find it a chore.’ Kitty sipped her tea.
Her hostess told a brief background history of Lilly to the guests. Sympathetic murmurings were uttered and smiles of encouragement were nodded in Kitty's direction. After they had eaten, her parcel was opened and the contents inspected.
‘The pinafores are perfect, thank you Kitty. I wonder if I could talk with you about an order for Christmastide. We are to have a large gathering and I am of a mind to have a festive motif embroidered alongside the family initials?’
‘A wonderful idea madam.’ Kitty was thrilled. ‘I would be delighted. There is plenty of time. What sort of motif did you have in mind?’
Mrs Whitfield joined in with her ideas. ‘May I suggest a small sprig of holly? Can you embroider a picture of holly?’
‘Yes I can embroider most pictures if I have a pattern to follow. My friend helps with the drawings.’ Kitty said.
Mrs Bloyce declared she was envious of her talents.
‘Thank you. I think I am blessed with a gift from my grandmother and mother, Mrs Bloyce.’
Kitty was relaxed and was happy to let her conversation flow beyond answering questions.
‘I think a sprig of holly below the initials would catch the eye. In the right hand bottom corner would possibly be best. On the back ties I could stitch the same emblem. When they are tied in a bow, the holly will show at the back too. I will use green for the holly, add three red berries, and use the same red for the lettering. What do you think Mrs Chapman?’
Kitty looked to her hostess, the woman sat with a wide grin on her face.
‘I think it is a splendid idea. Beauty and brains, you are blessed, I agree Kitty.’
Kitty took the opportunity to write the order in a small notepad she carried. She used it to record orders and payments; today it was used to draft a simple design. The other two women asked to see the sketch, they asked if their hostess would mind if they ordered for their own household staff. It was a novel idea.
With the orders taken, the conversation centred on Buttons and Bows. The women were interested in how she had built her business, and what her plans were. They expressed their approval of women with the courage to gain independence.
The future Mayor’s wife asked.
‘I wonder Kitty, do you make ball gowns?’
The question threw Kitty into a quandary, and she took a moment to consider her answer. She had made party dresses and altered glamorous afternoon gowns, but she had never made a ball gown. If she could make one for this client it would be the making of her business. It was a big order to tackle, but she was confident with Sarah’s help, she would manage.
‘I have made one or two elegant gowns, and several party outfits,’ she said.
‘Wonderful. Are you in a position to create a gown for the Mayoral ball? I admit I have one ready, but it is in the style of last year. I quite fancy a new style by a yo
unger designer. I would like to commission you for the work.’
Kitty could not believe her ears.
Now I am a designer. Whatever next? Commission me? I would do it for love!
She watched as the woman had pulled something from a linen bag and handed it to Kitty.
‘My husband made me this to mark the event. He is a fan maker. Isn't it adorable?’
No one could deny that the fan she held out was not adorable. It was an exquisite piece of craftsmanship. A half moon, decorated in shades of pink, green and ivory. It was highlighted by gold threads outlining hand painted roses. There were small pearls woven around a mother of pearl handle. A gift made with love.
‘My husband was a draper. He still supports those who work hard and prove themselves. He would be most agreeable if I approached him about a new gown. Please say yes. I realise we have so few weeks before the event, but I have every confidence in you, Miss Harper. Oh, do say yes.’
Kitty was aware all eyes were on her. She had listened to the words tumble from the mouth of the upper class woman. She doubted she would understand how Kitty felt at that exact moment. She burst into a fit of giggles.
‘Mrs Whitfield, I entered this room a bundle of nerves. I sipped tea and ate delicate cakes the likes I have never tasted before. And now I have the future Lord Mayor's wife begging me to make her a gown. How could I ignore such a request?’
Laughter rang around the room; the ice had been well and truly broken. Kitty had made friends in high places. She made a mental note to work a small gift for Nora Chapman. Without her this would never have happened.
The tea party had ended and she said her goodbyes.
On her return to Button and Bows, she stood back to admire the scene before her. The shop looked warm and inviting. Sarah sat on a chair with her head down, she worked hard for Kitty. With the extra income from the new orders. Kitty would be able to give Sarah a raise in pay.
Kitty relayed the events of the afternoon. Within minutes, the cutting table was cleared of all sewing items and papers took their place. Kitty scribbled out ideas and rough sketches of a gown. They cut snippets of fabrics, trimmings, and threads and stitched them onto a piece of calico. Kitty had offered to take the selection to Evelyn Whitfield but her customer wanted to visit her shop. An appointment had been made and all three women were to attend. Kitty was excited and planned not only to sew but also to bake, she would bake a few treats to offer with tea when they came. To have the future Mayor’s wife visit her premises was an honour. It would most certainly put her on the map with the higher classes.
Chapter 20
Customer Relations
Kitty put down the embroidery work that had held her attention for over an hour, it was a pretty pinafore made to show off in the shop. It was proving to be a good business venture. She would love to display the gown she had created for the Mayor’s wife, but that was under wraps.
The past week had been extremely busy, but very productive. She and Sarah had worked hard and the result was a vision of shimmering aquamarine, satin. A large sash bow, double bust darts, and a ruffled high neck collar were new fashionable additions to a traditional style gown. The ensemble was stunning.
Kitty, who would normally be critical of her own work, had declared the outfit, perfect. It was her masterpiece. She wanted to show it off to the world, but had given her word to Mrs Whitfield, that only those who needed to see it, would.
Arthur –who appeared to have forgotten his annoyance at her marriage refusal-had used a cunning ploy to get her noticed. He had written an article about the future mayor and his wife. The latest trend in newspapers was to find well-known citizens and write about their daily lives. In the article he posed the question about what the future Mayor’s wife would wear on the day, and more importantly, who had she selected to make her ball gown for the evening? Rumours were she had selected a new designer, and had chosen a modern design not previously seen.
The shop was quiet; Kitty’s last appointment had been and gone. She stretched her neck and shoulders to relieve the ache and walked towards the doorway for a little air. The grey drizzle did nothing to the scene outside except make it look darker than normal.
She enjoyed watching the world go by. People scurried to and fro. She allowed herself a little sense of pride, when some acknowledged her. Kitty knew her reputation for being a good seamstress, and creative designer was growing. She had been accepted as a good businesswoman in the row.
She looked out onto the other shops. Some were in a derelict state, while others had grubby windows and paintwork; no attention had been paid to them for a while.
The candle maker and cobblers were showing signs of life that morning, but Alexandra's the Taxidermist's was closed. He always closed a Monday. Kitty wondered if the owner spent the day stuffing dead animals. A shop full of dead animals had no appeal to Kitty and she could not understand those that paid it a visit, least of all purchase an item. She shivered and looked the other way.
Whoever could handle something dead like that? The thought unnerved her.
She nodded to a man as he walked by, and watched him enter the barbershop. The distinctive red and white pole was the brightest thing along the parade of shabby doorways. Ted Matthews, the owner, greeted his customer and ushered him to a seat. Kitty could see into his shop from hers, his main window was opposite her front door. She knew very little about Ted, except that he had never married and enjoyed his ale. He was a quiet man and if they ever met in the street, he would give a nod as his only form of greeting.
She watched in a leisurely manner, leaning against the doorframe. She watched Ted lather up his client's face; he stretched out his leather straps and ran his razor up and down in two brisk movements. For some strange reason, the razor made Kitty think back to Brady and the murdered prostitutes. A sense of sadness overwhelmed her. Brady's death was a huge loss. The very thought that a murderer was still walking free frightened her. Kitty sighed, she told herself to climb out of the black mood and put the kettle on. A cup of tea was called for - it always lifted low spirits. She went out to the kitchen, her bright cheery room, the grey day left behind.
The kettle bubbled on the stove and she prepared herself a buttered scone. She had set some aside for her father, she promised to visit him that evening.
She was right about the cup of tea, it cheered her up, and the scone stopped the hungry grumble sounds her stomach made. As she placed the plate in the sink, she heard the tinkle of the shop bell her father had put up for her. She loved the sound; it was a sign of a visitor to her business.
‘I will be with you shortly. Please take a seat.’ She called out as she removed her apron. She tidied her hair, ensuring her unruly curls had managed to stay in place, brushed around her mouth for tell tale crumbs, and entered the shop floor. It must be a new customer, as she did not have an appointment for the rest of the day. Her stomach gave its usual flip of excitement at the thought of new business, and she prepared her smile.
A short, rounded middle-aged woman sat in one of the chairs by the window and a young woman, about the same age as Kitty browsed through a selection of designs Arthur had drawn for her, a catalogue of what she could offer customers.
‘Good morning ladies, how can I help?’ she stepped out from behind the counter, holding out her hand to the older of the two women.
‘Good morning. Miss Harper, is it?’
‘That is me, madam. How can I help?’
‘You have come highly recommended.’
‘Thank you. I will do my best to help you today.’
‘Lift the lid and show the young gal what we are here for, I am sure she is busy.’
The older woman waggled her finger impatiently towards the hatbox the younger one had place upon the counter. The young woman explained their reason for seeking out Kitty.
‘Father bought me a delightful new bonnet for the mayoral celebrations. However, mother insists hers is still serviceable. It is my opinion it is in need of a
n update and repair, despite Mama’s protest it will do another season.’
The young woman lifted the bonnet from the hatbox.
‘It is comfortable. Why go spending money for one event. If you can tidy it up to keep my daughter happy, all well and good.’ The older woman said.
‘It is a good quality bonnet madam. You have fine taste. It would be a pleasure to work with. I have a fine collection of feathers just arrived from Paris, only this week. If you would care to select a few, I will match them with a floral arrangement for you. The ribbon looks tired, I could replace that. Would you like the same colour, or would you like to choose a new shade?’ Kitty looked over the bonnet. It was a few years out of fashion, but she could update it and make it look like a new one. It was one of her favourite jobs. When the chance came to order dyed feathers from France she invested money with no hesitation. Now was the chance to show what she could achieve with them, for herself and her customer.
‘I will leave it in your capable hands, you choose the feathers, and I like the idea of that blue ribbon over there.’ The woman pointed to Kitty’s gown on display.
‘Oh, I agree mother. The blue would be ideal for many of your outfits and make a change from the brown.’ Her daughter agreed.
‘I could have it ready by Friday for you, Mrs...?’ Kitty queried for the name of her customer.
‘Lockwood, Martha Lockwood. This is my daughter, Hannah. My son informs me he will be happy to collect it on Friday, he will be in the city on business.’
Kitty's heart missed a beat
Lockwood. James. Could this be his mother?
She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. She needed to compose herself and reached for her order books
‘Very well I will have it ready for him to collect. On Friday you say?’ She wrote down the details, wishing her hand to stop trembling. The thought of seeing James again had excited her.