by Rosie Clarke
‘This is one of my favourites,’ Beth said as she joined them.
‘Mine too,’ Harry said. ‘Lizzie didn’t fancy trying – how about you, Beth? You don’t mind, Lizzie?’
‘Of course not. Go on, Beth. I’ll watch you and memorise the steps so I can have a go next time.’
Beth let herself be swept away into the lively dance. Harry was a marvellous dancer, much better than Tony, and she was soon enjoying herself. Towards the end of the dance they passed Lizzie, who was now standing with Tony. ‘I’m really glad you asked me to come this evening,’ Harry said as their dance ended. ‘Lizzie looks great, doesn’t she?’
‘She’s always been pretty,’ Beth said. ‘It’s the awful clothes her aunt makes her wear and the way she scraped back her hair. Anyone would think she wanted to look plain, but I know Lizzie longs to have fun – her aunt’s so strict…’
‘Thanks for telling me,’ Harry said a gleam of mischief in his eyes. ‘I’ll have to think of a way of getting round her…’
They walked to join their partners. Tony turned to Beth, a flash of annoyance in his eyes. ‘I got you a glass of lemonade but gave it to Lizzie as you were dancing. Would you like one now?’
‘Yes, please,’ Beth said, and Harry said he could do with a beer and offered to fetch a round of drinks for them all.
Tony looked at Beth a bit oddly. ‘You looked as if you were enjoying yourself?’
‘Harry’s a good dancer. I told you he’s sweet on Lizzie – besides, you were busy, and Lizzie didn’t fancy trying that one…’
‘What do you mean busy?’ Tony demanded. ‘Oh, you mean Sylvia? She came up to me, Beth. I could hardly ignore her, could I? I’ve known her for years.’
‘You went out with her at school.’
‘We weren’t together then…’ He grinned. ‘You’re not jealous, are you? Surely you know Sylvia’s reputation. You don’t think I’d want someone like her as my wife? It’s you I love, Beth.’
Beth nodded, her annoyance fading away. Tony was in love with her. It was foolish to think he might be interested in Sylvia. She was known to be fast, and if the whispers were true she’d been with a lot of men. Tony wouldn’t marry a girl like that…
*
They’d got home at fifteen minutes past eleven. Beth’s father had looked pointedly at the clock but he hadn’t said anything as the two girls came in. Beth knew she might get a lecture the next day after Lizzie had gone home, but she was so much luckier than Lizzie, who would be in awful trouble if her aunt knew where she’d been that night. Her friend had confided in her that Harry wanted her to be his girlfriend.
‘I don’t know how I’m going to get away with it,’ Lizzie said. ‘I hate lying to my aunt, but I don’t think she would let me out of the house if she thought I was going out with a man on my own.’
‘Just tell her you’ll be with me. It will be true some of the time, because we can go out as a foursome. I think it’s safer for both of us if we do that, Lizzie. Tony wants to get married and Dad won’t hear of it yet. Tony’s getting impatient, if you know what I mean…’
‘I suppose it wouldn’t be a lie if we go as a foursome. At least for a start… and then I can find a way to break it to her. I would say straight out, but I don’t want to upset my uncle’
‘Well then,’ Beth said, ‘a few small lies never hurt anyone. It isn’t as if you’re doing anything wrong, Lizzie. Your aunt is the one that’s wrong, giving you no freedom…’
Chapter 9
‘Well, Lizzie,’ Mr Oliver said on Monday morning. ‘What is the damage? Have you worked it out properly?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Lizzie said. ‘Ed helped me cost the hat I’d drawn, and it is rather expensive. If you use the best material, it would need to sell for two pounds five shillings…’
‘Far too much,’ he said. ‘Disappointing…’
‘I wondered if it might be worth making one up,’ Lizzie suggested. ‘Mr Winters has a shop in Bond Street and it follows that he has some rich customers. Also, I have come up with a compromise – a hat made of felt but with some soft pleating on the brim… that would sell for twenty-two shillings and sixpence.’
‘You’ve given this some thought,’ Mr Oliver said, eyes still narrowed. ‘Could you make up a sample of each by tomorrow morning?’
‘Yes, with a little help from Ed and Tilly – but I’d like to do most of the work myself, sir.’
‘I haven’t got money to throw away if you make mistakes, Lizzie Larch.’
‘I shan’t go wrong if Ed helps me cut the pieces first,’ Lizzie said. ‘If I can show Tilly how I want it to be sewn and then finish it myself…’
‘All right, get on with it, but I want decent merchandise I can sell.’
Ed turned to her as he walked off. ‘You’d better show me what you need, Lizzie.’
‘I made sketches of the hats in various stages,’ she told him with a smile and opened her pad. ‘The felt one looks almost as expensive as the all-silk hat, but it will cost less.’
‘Less than you estimated, I should think,’ Ed agreed and smiled. ‘I like your hats, Lizzie. I’ll do the cutting first and then you can talk to Tilly while I get on with the orders.’
Lizzie went off to the stockroom. She’d just collected all she needed when Harry entered carrying several rolls of material, some fine straw and a parcel. He dumped them on the floor and winked at her.
‘You can enter these up for me when you’re ready, Lizzie.’
‘I’m busy for the moment,’ she said. ‘Don’t be so lazy, Harry. They won’t let you get away with careless behaviour in the RAF and I don’t see why I should do your work.’
‘Lizzie, I thought you liked me,’ he said and looked reproachful. ‘I’ve got an appointment elsewhere…’
‘I do like you, Harry,’ she said. ‘I’ll do them later if you like, but for now I’m busy.’
‘Give me a kiss,’ Harry said, grinning. ‘I love it when you’re bossy, Lizzie Larch.’
‘Behave yourself,’ she said and avoided him as he tried to catch her.
*
‘Yes, well, this blue silk is very attractive, Lizzie,’ Mr Oliver said and turned the expensive hat all ways, searching for any small mistakes, but couldn’t find any. ‘Who did the pleating?’
‘I showed Tilly how I wanted it and she did it,’ Lizzie told him. ‘I chose the colours and finished it by hand, but Ed cut the shapes and Tilly did her job too.’
‘What about this pink and cream felt?’ he asked, looking at it critically. ‘It’s almost as stylish as the blue one but I don’t think it costed out at anywhere near the price?’
‘No, it was quite a bit cheaper. You could sell it for a pound if you wanted…’
‘No, I’ll charge twenty-five shillings,’ he said decisively. ‘This is different, Lizzie. We’ve got swathes of the silk tulle rather than pleats, so it took less time to do. You’re a clever girl.’
‘I have good ideas sometimes,’ Lizzie said, ‘but I couldn’t have made these hats alone… at least I couldn’t yet.’
‘Give yourself time,’ he said and looked pleased. ‘Mr Winters will be here in the morning for his order. We shall just have to see what he says to these…’
Lizzie went back to Ed as he was packing up for the evening. She told him what their employer had said, thanking him for his help.
‘It was all your idea. We haven’t had anything new for ages. Tilly changes the colours and uses different silk flowers, but that pleated hat was different, really stylish – the way it went right under the brim, too – that is classy, Lizzie. I bet Sebastian Winters buys it like a shot and orders more.’
‘I hope so,’ Lizzie said. ‘I’ve always wanted to design hats… it started after I was ill, for something to do…’
‘Madge wondered if you were coming on Wednesday evening.’
‘Yes, please, if you will have me?’
‘Bless you, Lizzie, of course we’ll have you. My Madge has taken to you. She w
ould be disappointed if you didn’t come.’
‘Good, I like her so much, Ed. It makes a lovely change for me to be with friends.’
‘We haven’t had much time to talk today,’ Ed said. ‘Your hair looks nice, Lizzie. Did you cut it for the dance?’
‘Yes, to smarten myself up a bit,’ Lizzie said.
‘It suits you.’
‘Thanks, Ed. My aunt was horrified but Uncle Jack told me he liked it – and I’ve decided I’m old enough to wear what I like and have my hair cut if I want. I’m not a schoolgirl even if Aunt Jane thinks I am.’
Ed nodded his approval and left her to get her coat and join Beth. The two girls walked to the bus stop together, laughing over their day and making plans for the weekend.
‘Tony says he doesn’t mind meeting up at the pictures. He’s taking me up West for tea and he’s going to buy me a present… so we’ll meet at the Odeon at half past six…’
‘Yes, fine. I’m not sure when I’ll be meeting Harry. We didn’t have time to talk today, but I’ll let you know tomorrow…’
Beth’s bus came first and she jumped on. Lizzie’s seemed a bit late and she was beginning to wonder if she’d missed one. She looked about her, feeling slightly anxious. A tramp loitered in the doorway of a nearby shop. Unshaven, with long greasy hair and filthy clothes, he was leering at her in a way that made her feel uncomfortable and a shiver of fear trickled down her spine. Suddenly, he grinned horribly and opened his coat, showing her his naked arousal through his open trousers. She averted her gaze in disgust and was about to turn and run when a car pulled into the kerb and Sebastian Winters got out.
‘I hoped I might catch you. May I take you home, Lizzie?’
Lizzie was overcome with relief. She thanked his driver as he opened the back door for them and they both got in. For a moment Lizzie felt odd sitting there beside Sebastian Winters, but he kept a distance between them and she began to relax. The tramp had frightened her, reminding her strangely of her dream, but she was safe with Sebastian.
‘You wanted to talk to me, sir?’
‘Sebastian please,’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘How are you getting on at Oliver’s?’
‘I’m enjoying my work. We made two special hats this morning… but I chose the materials and the designs.’
‘So you’re progressing then,’ he nodded, his expression serious. ‘Just what is it that you want from life, Lizzie? Surely you won’t be content to stay at Oliver’s forever?’
‘I want to design and make hats… be a fashionable milliner with my own label…’ The words tumbled out of her, words she hadn’t even known were in her head. ‘Of course that’s ridiculous. A girl like me doesn’t stand a chance…’
‘Why ever not? You have good ideas. Oliver showed me your sketchbook. I picked out a design I’d like to see made up… the pleated brim. Is that what you’ve been making this morning?’
‘Yes, it is, in a deep midnight blue, as I showed it in my sketch.’
‘Are you pleased with it?’
‘Yes, but I also like the other… it’s a variation on the idea but cheaper to produce.’
‘I suppose that was Oliver’s idea?’
‘No, mine, because not every woman can afford the kind of prices your customers can, Mr Winters. I wanted something similar for more ordinary women like me.’
‘You intrigue me, Lizzie Larch,’ he said and his eyes were intensely blue. ‘I don’t know why you imagine you are ordinary… and I like the new hairstyle.’
‘Thank you.’ Lizzie caught her breath as he leaned closer and picked up a strand of her hair, letting it fall through his fingers. The action was sensual, the scent of him appealing to her intuitively.
‘Chestnut brown. You can see the colour now it isn’t all tied back in that horrible bun. All you need is pretty clothes and hats and you could mix with the best…’ There was something in his eyes that made her heart race, something that made her think he wanted much more than a discussion about stylish hats.
Lizzie sat up straighter, unsure how to react. ‘I’m not that sort of girl, sir. If you were thinking of asking me to be… to be…’ it was just too embarrassing. ‘Well, I’m just not that kind of person.’
Sebastian laughed in delight and flicked her cheek with his fingers. ‘What a foolish girl she can be,’ he said and sat back. ‘Believe me, Lizzie; if I wanted a girl to seduce, I could have a vast choice. No, I think you have talent and I can use that kind of talent… I have some very rich ladies in my clientele and they often ask me for original designs. I do not buy all my stock from Oliver’s, far from it. I’ve been looking for something – or should I say someone who could produce original work for a while, and I’m hoping I’ve found her.’
Lizzie stared in disbelief. She couldn’t be hearing this; things like this didn’t happen except perhaps in dreams …
‘I-I’m not sure…’ she said. ‘I’m not clever and I’ve only just started to learn my trade. I don’t think you really mean what you said…’ He had to be flirting with her, and there was only one reason a man like Sebastian Winters would flirt with a girl like her.
‘You don’t know me, Lizzie. One day you’ll know that I never say what I don’t mean – and I usually get what I want, but I’m not going to bully you. After I’ve seen those hats we’ll talk again.’ He waited for her reply but Lizzie was lost for words. ‘My driver is slowing down. I think we must have reached Wilkes Street…I think that’s where you live, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, but how…Oh, I suppose Beth told you the other night…,’ Lizzie got her breath back. ‘Thank you for the lift – and I hope you like the hats…’
She jumped out of the car before he could get out and open the door for her. Her heart was racing and she was still shocked. A man like Sebastian Winters could open the way for her to achieve her dream… but could she trust him?
*
‘Did I hear a car door just now?’ Aunt Jane said as Lizzie entered the kitchen.
‘I was given a lift home, because my bus didn’t come,’ she said. ‘Mr Winters is a customer and he saw me waiting.’
‘You could have been abducted, murdered or sold to the white slave trade,’ her aunt cried and struck her on the side of the head. ‘You stupid, stupid, girl!’
‘Jane, don’t,’ Uncle Jack warned.
‘Mr Winters is perfectly respectable. He asked me about my work at Oliver’s and said he might have a job for me designing and making special hats for his wealthy clients,’ Lizzie said resentfully, holding the side of her face.
‘Oh yes, and I’m the Queen of Sheba.’ Her aunt looked furious. ‘I should have thought you would have learned, Lizzie. You of all girls ought to know how dangerous it is…’
‘Jane, no,’ Uncle Jack said sharply. ‘I dare say the gentleman is perfectly decent. She’s home and none the worse. Besides, she is old enough to go out when she likes and come home how and when she likes…’
‘And who is going to pick up the pieces next time? It’s taken all this time to pay off the bill at the…’
‘Jane, be quiet!’ Uncle Jack spoke in a tone Lizzie had never heard from him. ‘I won’t have you nagging her over a silly thing like a lift from a gentleman she knows – I’m sure Lizzie would never get into a car with a man she didn’t know.’
‘Of course not,’ Lizzie said. ‘Please don’t argue over me – and please don’t worry about me. I’m not a child.’
‘Have it your own way,’ her aunt muttered. ‘Get on with the supper, Lizzie. I’ll be working. Call me when it’s ready…’
Lizzie looked at her uncle as the door closed behind Aunt Jane. ‘Uncle Jack – what was she going to say? Something about a bill… was it for the sanatorium? Has it taken years to pay it off?’
He sighed heavily. ‘I didn’t want you to know – but it cost me quite a bit of money. I had to take out a loan and there was interest on that, so I’ve only just managed to pay the last instalment.’
‘I’m so sorry. I
would pay it back if I could…’
‘Nonsense, my love; I shouldn’t dream of it.. You are my niece. I couldn’t leave you in that institution any longer, Lizzie. You were slipping away from us; they told us you would never recover. The doctor at the sanatorium brought you back from the brink and I would’ve paid any price…’
‘Oh uncle,’ Lizzie said. She knelt by his chair and put her arms about him, resting her cheek against his. ‘I do love you. You’ve been so good to me.’
‘You have become my life,’ he told her simply. ‘Just be happy, my love.’
‘You mustn’t quarrel with Aunt Jane on my behalf…’
‘It was time I told her what’s what, Lizzie. I know she resented my paying that money, but it was mine. I earned it and she always had her share.’
Lizzie felt the sting of tears as she got up to make the tea. She’d wondered why her aunt was so careful with money, always nagging Lizzie about every penny she spent, and now she understood. It must have been difficult for her uncle to pay that bill and he’d never uttered one word of reproach to her – never even let her know that it had cost him to send her to that private sanatorium.
She tried to remember where she’d been before that, but although she felt cold all over, as if a dark cloud had descended, she still couldn’t recall anything before the doctor in the sanatorium had spoken to her about going home.
‘I’m sorry I’ve caused so much trouble for you both,’ she said as she brought her uncle a cup of tea.
‘No, Lizzie,’ he said firmly. ‘I sent you out that evening to buy my cigarettes. If I’d gone myself, it would never have happened…’