by Anne Baker
‘Oh, I do, Mum. I promise I’ll take great care. Being able to use the heater will be marvellous over the winter. The last thing I want is to burn the summer house down.’
The next morning, Milo carried the heater up to the summer house and Leonie positioned it against the brick wall. She impressed on Milo that he alone must be responsible for lighting it and turning it out every night.
She showed him how to manage it and checked that he could. ‘This old summer house will go up like a tinder box if it catches fire but I think you’re old enough to take responsibility for your own safety and that of your friends.’
‘I am, Mum. I promise I’ll be very careful.’
‘Don’t forget,’ she warned, ‘at the first sign of fire, get everybody out as fast as you can.’
Customers started to come in response to Leonie’s advertisements. She enjoyed sewing for them. It brought purpose to her life.
She was sewing one day when she heard the phone ring. ‘My name is Elaine Clifford,’ an attractive, husky voice told her. ‘I’ve designed three summer dresses and made paper patterns so that a home dressmaker could make them. I need to test my work by having them made up in some cheap material. It’s sort of experimental. Would you be interested in doing that for me?’
‘That sounds intriguing,’ Leonie said. ‘Yes, I’m very interested.’
‘Good. When can I come round to see you?’
‘This afternoon or tomorrow. What time would suit you?’
Elaine Clifford gave a hoot of pleasure. ‘This afternoon, say three o’clock. Is that all right?’
‘That would be excellent,’ Leonie replied and spent the intervening time wondering about her. She sounded young and enthusiastic.
When Leonie answered the ring of the doorbell shortly after three, she found a smartly dressed young lady on the step. Elaine Clifford looked elegant in navy blue and white. Her clothes looked expensive. Leonie knew she could not reproduce clothes like that.
‘Come to my sewing room,’ she said, leading the way.
Leonie had rearranged her room and put a chair each side of a table where she could spread out her patterns and fabrics to show customers. ‘Take a seat,’ she said.
Elaine took off her coat and hat, and Leonie hung it on the peg on the door and hooked her hat on top. Elaine had thick, dark shiny hair and friendly dark eyes. She sat down and opened her case to spread her sketches and paper patterns across the table for Leonie to see.
‘Before I was married,’ she said, ‘I worked in the fashion department of George Henry Lee’s and I loved it.’ Leonie nodded. It was one of Liverpool’s more expensive department stores, too expensive for her.
‘I gave up to get married and that’s long enough ago for me to feel the need for more to fill my days. They sell lovely clothes. Very fashionable clothes.’
Leonie could see she was ambitious. ‘The height of fashion.’
‘Yes, well, I’m hoping to make a new career designing clothes and selling paper patterns of them to the trade. There are several large firms who sell patterns for dressmakers.’
‘Yes, I sent for those three heavy pattern catalogues so my customers can choose what they want.’ Leonie pointed them out on a shelf.
‘I’m hoping to sell my designs to one of them,’ Elaine said. ‘I understand some of their designers are freelance. And I’ve noticed magazines quite often give away free paper patterns.’
‘They probably get them from the big companies.’
‘Well, what I want to do is to check my designs. I want you to cut out the garments and run them up in cheap material. I have to be sure my patterns work and that they are simple enough for the home dressmaker to follow.’
‘I’ll be glad to do that.’ She’d enjoy doing it, it was something different. Leonie pulled the first of Elaine’s designs towards her and studied it. ‘This is quite complicated – a sophisticated design. It would take some degree of skill to make it up.’
‘Could you do it?’
‘Yes.’ She looked up and smiled. ‘I could but I’ve always done a lot of sewing. What sort of material would you recommend it be made up in?’
‘Something soft like chiffon, delicate, sheer and filmy silk.’
‘There’s no cheap cloth like that. Muslin might work. You need a material that would drape.’
‘Do you think it’s too complicated? That I’m wasting my time?’
‘No, I like it. There’s one company that specialises in sophisticated patterns so they might like it too. What size have you made the patterns?’ She unfolded the tissue paper to see the shapes.
‘Thirty-four bust, twenty-six waist. I want my dresses to look their best, so I think of fairly slim women.’ Elaine was tall and slimmer than that but Leonie could see she was at least a decade younger than her. ‘I’ll have to work out the measurements for every size but I thought I’d find out if any adjustments to the basic shape were needed first. I’ve got a simpler design here and it would look good in cotton.’
‘Yes, I could make this one up in cheap cotton for you.’ She got up to find a dress length in the pile of fabrics she was building up. ‘Do you see it in this?’
‘Yes, it would look good in that.’
‘Then I’ll start with these two. The size is right for me and I could make them fit me. I need some summer dresses. I’ll pay for the cloth if you’ll let me keep them.’
‘That’s kind of you. If these look as good as I hope when they’re made up,’ Elaine said, ‘I’ll start measuring out patterns in every size.’
She had a friendly, outgoing personality, and they shared a keen interest in the latest fashions. Leone felt she might have found a friend. Running the dressmaking business gave her a life of her own and it made her feel better, more confident and less affected by Steve’s low moods.
CHAPTER FOUR
LEONIE HAD BEEN DOING her dressmaking for more than a year and was delighted at her growing list of clients and the money it brought in. But she found Steve was beginning to follow her round the house, often coming to her sewing room to demand her attention. He didn’t like her having a fuller and more interesting life in which he could play no part. In particular he seemed to resent her growing friendship with Elaine. She had sold several of her designs and had seen one bought specially to give away with a magazine. ‘That woman’s here by the minute,’ Steve complained, though Elaine was always friendly and polite towards him.
One evening, a client arrived late for a fitting and Leonie was late getting their supper on the table. Steve ate in cold, brooding silence so that even the children noticed he was in a bad mood. Milo tried to help his mother but he heaped too much praise on the rather ordinary casserole that had been cooking all afternoon.
After they’d eaten, the children washed up and Milo made coffee for them. Steve began to grumble about women coming to the house for fittings.
‘You know I’m not well,’ he complained. ‘How do you expect me to rest when there are strange women ringing the doorbell and tramping through the house at all times of the day?’
‘I always answer the door,’ Leonie replied quickly. But her sewing room was further from the front door than his study and they had to walk past his door to reach it. She’d known for months that he found that an irritation.
Things came to a head one afternoon when Elaine was with her. She was full of enthusiasm and had come with two new designs for summer dresses, together with their paper patterns.
‘I love these,’ Leonie said. ‘They’ve really got a modern look.’
‘I’m dying to know if they’ll work out.’
Leonie got out a well-tried stock pattern of her own for comparison and frowned. ‘I think this one may need further adjustment on the shoulders.’ Concentrating hard, they worked together on the measurements until the middle of the afternoon, by which time Leonie felt she was flagging. ‘What about a cup of tea?’ she suggested.
Elaine was still bubbling with energy. ‘I’m thrilled
with what we’ve done, and yes, I’d love a cuppa.’
Together they went to the kitchen to make it. Steve had had a bad headache that morning and stayed in bed until lunchtime. Leonie took a cup of tea and a slice of cake along to his study for him.
The kitchen was a vast bare room, a place for hired staff to work. It had changed little since the bungalow had been built and wasn’t a comfortable place. As their work was spread over her sewing-room table, she took the tea tray into what had once been a formal dining room, but since they’d lost the live-in servants it was used as their living room.
‘Gosh,’ Elaine said. ‘I’ve never seen so many large pictures in one room. I can hardly see the wallpaper.’ They were all of early steamships and most were pictured at the height of a great storm. They were darkened with age, all in ornate gilt frames.
‘Does Steve collect them?’
‘No, his father collected them, but Steve’s fond of them. They’re all over the house. Unfortunately they aren’t popular these days and Steve doesn’t think they’re worth much.’ He’d talked of getting George down to give his opinion but had never got round to it. ‘Grandpa loved his pictures and maritime history was one of his hobbies.’
They were drinking their tea at the huge mahogany dining table and laughing over a story Elaine was recounting when Steve stormed in, his face flushed with anger.
‘Leonie, do you have to make so much noise? It’s bad enough when your customers are ringing the doorbell and tramping to your sewing room, but now you’re spreading them all over the house.’
‘Elaine isn’t a customer,’ she said sharply. ‘She’s my friend.’ She was angry with him for pretending not to recognise her. She’d taken Elaine to his study to introduce her and he’d seen her about the place several times since.
‘You knew I was having a bad turn,’ he complained, ‘and I can’t stand noise when I’m not well. You woke me up.’
‘You were awake when I took your tea in.’
There was an awkward silence.
‘I’m sorry.’ Elaine stood up abruptly. ‘I’ll go.’
‘There’s little point in rushing away now I’m awake. The damage has been done.’
‘I need to go anyway,’ Elaine said mildly. ‘My husband will be home soon.’
‘I’ll see you out.’ Leonie got to her feet. She was angry and felt she had to get away from Steve for a few minutes to calm down. It was always a mistake to take offence at what he said or did. It could put him in a bad mood for the rest of the day.
‘He’d try the patience of a saint,’ Elaine sympathised once they were out of earshot. ‘It must make things very hard for you.’
‘Let’s go for a little walk,’ Leonie said, leading her out through the front door. They set off along the Esplanade. ‘Steve resents me having anybody to the house,’ she explained. ‘I’ve been thinking for some time that I’ll have to rent a workroom and keep my customers out of his way. The business is thriving and I love the work. Everything is fine but that. He knows we need the money but it’s as though if he can’t work, he doesn’t want me to.’
Elaine squeezed her arm. ‘That’s the answer, isn’t it, a workroom quite separate from your home. Are you making enough to afford the rent?’
‘I am,’ Leonie said, ‘but I’d rather work at home and spend it on things we need. It isn’t as though there’s any shortage of space.’
‘Bite the bullet and go as soon as you can,’ Elaine advised, ‘if that’s the only way to stop Steve griping at you.’ She pondered for a moment. ‘Look, I need your practical experience if I’m ever to get my designs off the ground. We could do this together, couldn’t we? Let me help you find a workroom.’
That comforted Leonie. It would be easier if she could talk things through first and have Elaine’s opinion. ‘That makes sense,’ she said, ‘though I have other clients on my books and other sewing to do.’
‘Of course you have. And if we choose the right place to rent, you might find more customers. Your home isn’t easy to find, it’s away from the bus routes. Really, you’re not in a convenient place to run a business.’
‘I’d love to expand, who wouldn’t? But we’re in the middle of a depression. Will I get enough new customers to make it pay?’
‘There are always women who have money to spend on clothes,’ Elaine told her. ‘George Henry Lee’s has advertisements that say things like, “We can provide ladies with smart clothes for every occasion at prices well within the average dress allowance.” You should aim for that market.’
Leonie was excited at the idea. ‘All right, let’s do it, let’s start looking for a place.’
A few days later, Elaine came to see her again. ‘I’ve been round the local estate agents to see what is available to rent, and I’ve picked up particulars of several places I think might suit you. How about this – it’s a couple of rooms to rent in a house on Kennet Road. You’d have pretty much the same setup as you have here and it would be more central for your clients. But have you thought about renting a shop? There are a lot of empty shops at the moment because of the depression. If you took one on a busy road, with people passing the window all the time, wouldn’t that attract more customers?’
‘Yes,’ Leonie agreed, ‘it probably would.’ She read the brochures Elaine had brought her. ‘This shop on the New Chester Road sounds ideal, but I had in mind to pay a weekly rent and the offer here is for a long lease.’
‘That seems to be usual for a shop.’
‘But I don’t want to sign a ten-year lease, I can’t think that far ahead, not yet, and I don’t know what leasing entails.’
‘Neither do I, but I know somebody who does. He’s a solicitor, a friend of Tom’s, and he’s coming round for supper tonight. I’ll ask him about leases and rental agreements.’
Elaine reported back to Leonie the next morning. ‘It’s quite complicated. He told me to bring you to his office to meet him. He thinks you might find it easier to understand if he spoke directly to you.’
That lunchtime, Elaine took her to see the shop that had impressed her on New Chester Road. There was a flat upstairs and another room behind the shop. Leonie could see great possibilities in the premises and began to feel quite excited. She went to look at one or two other shops but they were not on such a busy street, nor within such easy walking distance from her home.
A few days later, Elaine took her to a solicitor’s office in Hamilton Square where her friend worked. As soon as they entered his room, he got up from his desk and came forward to greet them with his hand outstretched.
Elaine introduced him. ‘Nicholas Bailey, he’s a very good friend of ours. He lived with Tom for years.’
He smiled at Leonie. ‘Please sit down. I’d better start by looking at the documents you’ve been given,’ he said. ‘You’ve brought them with you?’
She studied him while he did so and liked what she saw. He was good-looking and in his early forties, of medium build with neatly trimmed dark hair. His eyes were a very dark blue and he had a habit of screwing them up against the light. There were a lot of fine lines round them. He was wearing the formal dark suit, white shirt and quiet tie she’d expect of a solicitor.
He outlined all the advantages and disadvantages of a lease to her. ‘If you sign a long lease like this,’ he told her, ‘you are agreeing to pay the rent for the whole of the ten years. This could be a problem if the business doesn’t do as well as you hope. Legally you’d have to continue paying even if your business failed and you closed the shop.’
‘I was afraid that might be the case.’ Leonie was getting cold feet.
‘The shop has been empty quite some time,’ Elaine said. ‘About a year, I think. The estate agent told me it used to be a camera shop.’
‘In the present financial depression, many businesses have failed and people are understandably reluctant to sign up to a long-term lease like this.’ He looked up and smiled again. ‘But with so many empty shops on the high street, some landlor
ds are willing to settle for a weekly rent. Would you like me to see if I can negotiate something with this landlord? I’ll be happy to act for you as a friend.’
It took Leonie a moment to realise what he meant. ‘You mean for free?’ She met the gaze of his intense blue eyes and he nodded. ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she faltered.
On the way home, Elaine told her that Nicholas and Tom were close friends and had been brought up together after Nick’s mother had died. ‘Nick has always come regularly to our house but three years ago he lost his wife and baby in childbirth.’
‘How dreadful for him.’
‘Yes, it took him a long time to get over that,’ she said. ‘Tom and I feel sorry for him, so now he has a regular invitation to Sunday lunch to get him through the weekend and on Wednesday evenings we either go out to the theatre or cinema or he has a quiet supper with us at home.’
Leonie thought about him a good deal over the next few days. He had an aura of sadness about him and seemed a quiet and gentle person.
He was as good as his word. He negotiated a tenancy at an affordable rent for a period of six months, which afterwards could be terminated with a month’s notice.
Leonie went alone to his office to sign the agreement and chatted to him for half an hour over coffee and biscuits. She warmed to him; he seemed interested in what she was doing. ‘Your problem now,’ he said, ‘is that after six months the landlord can give you a month’s notice to leave, but in the present climate it isn’t very likely. He’s probably glad to get some income from his property.’
When Leonie left his second-floor office, Nicholas Bailey went to the window to watch her cross Hamilton Square. She walked with a spring in her step and held her head high.
Elaine had told him all about her, had spoken at length about how much she liked and admired Leonie. He’d gathered that her husband was a bad-tempered invalid who demanded his family’s full attention and kept Leonie running in circles trying to keep him happy. Elaine said the only reason Leonie wanted to move her little business away from her home was because her husband complained if customers came to the house. He was a positive tyrant and even complained about her asking her friends in. He was too ill to work but he hated to see her trying to earn a little money.