The Ribbon Weaver (19 page)
Crossing to the front door, he opened it and gazed up and down the foggy street then taking a solid gold fob watch from his waistcoat pocket he tutted impatiently. ‘I ordered a horse and carriage to be here for nine o’clock prompt,’ he grumbled, but at that moment the sound of horses’ hooves clattering on the cobbled street reached them and seconds later a carriage drew to a halt outside.
‘Ah, here we are.’ He quickly tucked away the heavy gold watch and chain and politely stepped aside for Amy to precede him. They then descended the steps and boarded the carriage. Amy had to pinch her wrist to make herself believe that this was really happening, for somehow she knew that this would be a day she would never forget.
The journey through the labyrinth of streets was nowhere near as interesting as the one of the day before, for the smog restricted their vision to a few yards. Every now and again, pedestrians appeared out of the mist like ghosts, but slowly the air began to clear. Eventually they stopped outside a smart shopfront, and after helping Amy down from the carriage, Mr Forrester paid the cabbie and she watched the carriage immediately rattle away.
Her employer pointed to the shop window with pride. ‘This is
Josephine’s Millinery
,’ he told her. ‘And if you look in the window you will find a number of your designs displayed there.’
A shiver of pleasure rippled through her as Amy saw some of her hats proudly perched on fine hat-stands that showed them off to their best advantage. The window display was by far the finest she had ever seen, and she studied it carefully, determined to take some of the ideas home with her. A length of blue silk was attractively draped down the back of the display, making it impossible to see beyond the hats into the actual shop. Amy liked the idea instantly, for she realised that it lent privacy to the customers as they tried on the different styles. The silk continued all along the bottom of the window, and here and there were colourful silk flowers, all reflecting the shades of the hats, laid in loose bunches and tied with brightly coloured ribbons. All in all, it was an extremely eye-catching display, and Amy was deeply impressed. Taking her elbow, Mr Forrester led her inside and as they entered a bell tinkled merrily above the door. Immediately, a pretty young woman came to greet them, introducing herself as Miss Drake, the manageress. While she bustled away to fetch them tea, a portly little gentleman with a pair of gold pince-nez spectacles perched on the end of his nose appeared from behind a rich brocade curtain that disguised a doorway to the rear of the shop. Hand outstretched, he quickly made his way to Mr Forrester and shook his hand, and then as his eyes came to rest on Amy, he greeted her warmly.
‘You must be Miss Ernshaw,’ he said. ‘The young lady I have heard so much about who is responsible for our recent rise in sales.’
Amy flushed with pleasure.
‘Yes, George, this is indeed the young lady I told you about,’ Mr Forrester nodded. ‘Amy, I am pleased to introduce you to Mr George Harvey. This gentleman keeps my London businesses running like clockwork for me and I’m sure that you two will get along famously. During our stay you will be spending a lot of time here and I’m sure that you will learn from the experience. I am happy to say that many very fashionable ladies favour this particular establishment. In fact, Mr Harvey and the lady manageresses we have employed have built up a very elite clientèle over the years. I feel that if you actually see first-hand the styles that are favoured, and listen to the requests of the ladies, it will stand you in very good stead.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Amy bobbed her knee and then whilst Mr Forrester and Mr Harvey disappeared into the back room to look at the account books, she was left to study the shop. It was a luxurious room decorated mainly in rich shades of burgundy and gold. The walls were covered in velvet flocked paper, and hung upon them almost everywhere she looked were heavy gilt-framed mirrors so that the clients could see the designs they were trying on from all angles.
Standing against one wall was a beautiful French-style sofa with delicate gilt legs. It was covered in cream velvet draped with gold tassels, and on the floor was a heavily patterned Turkey carpet that reflected the colours of the room. The long narrow counter was a far cry from the counter in the shop back at home. This one was made from a dark mahogany, inlaid with rosewood – and the top of it was so highly polished that it appeared almost mirrorlike. All along it stood hatstands of varying heights displaying yet more hats of all shapes and sizes. Once again, some of them were Amy’s very own designs, and she thought how much Molly would have loved to see them so cleverly displayed.
Eventually Mr Forrester departed, promising Amy that he would send a carriage for her at four o’clock. And so began Amy’s first day in
Josephine’s Millinery
. Mr Harvey was a very well-spoken gentleman, but pleasant and smart as a new pin, and Amy had a feeling that she was going to enjoy herself. Miss Drake too was utterly efficient and charming, eager to explain the way things were run and the customers’ likes and dislikes. Beneath the counter were piles of magazines, the like of which Amy had never seen before, and the ladies who frequented the shop were always greatly taken with them. Amy could well understand why. They were full of hand-coloured engravings and lithographs which had been copied from plates in French magazines, and the pages were crammed with advice on refined manners and literature as well as the very most up-to-date fashions in gowns and hats.
Godey’s Lady’s Book
was the title of the American magazine considered to be the leading authority on fashion and art, and Amy was sure that she could have flicked through the pages all day. While there were no customers in the shop, Mr Harvey was more than happy for Amy to browse through them. It was the Paris designs that most impressed her, and when she commented on this, he nodded in agreement.
‘Paris is the hat capital of the world,’ he told her knowledgeably. ‘I have the magazines ordered and delivered each month, and they are always popular with my clientèle. You will discover that the London ladies are extremely fashion conscious, and one is always looking to outdo another as hats here are considered to be marks of rank.’
Amy listened to him intently, eager to learn as always, and by lunchtime she was well into the swing of things. The ladies who entered the shop were all dressed in the height of fashion but Amy considered some of them to be extremely rude. They would try on the hats, one after another, preening this way and that, whilst their maids stood meekly behind them, and then eventually they would usually select the one that they had tried on in the first place. She could only marvel at Miss Drake’s patience, which seemed to be endless, as she ran to and fro fetching first one design and then another.
‘Don’t you ever get annoyed with them when they order you about?’ she asked innocently after one particularly difficult customer had left the shop. They were sitting together in the little room behind the curtain sharing some sandwiches for lunch.
‘The first thing a high-class milliner must learn is that the customer is always right, no matter how difficult they are,’ the manageress told her patiently. ‘The ladies who frequent this shop are mostly very wealthy women, and if they go away happy with the service they have received then there is every chance that they will come back and recommend us to their friends.’
Amy sighed. She had noticed that all of the hats sold here were at least four times as expensive as the same ones that were sold back in Nuneaton. She supposed that he was right. If the women were paying top prices then it was reasonable that they should expect good service. But even so, she doubted that she would ever be as patient as Augusta Drake or Mr Harvey. Some of the women who had come into the shop during the course of the morning had looked Amy up and down as if they had a bad smell under their noses, and Amy, who had always considered herself to be better dressed than most back home, was now suddenly very aware of her simple clothes.
When the carriage drew up outside at four o’clock, she could hardly believe it was that time already, for the day had passed so quickly.
Back at the house in Sloane Street, Nancy opened the door and winked at her cheekily.
‘The old mistress is waitin’ fer yer in the drawin’ room,’ she informed her, and after removing her bonnet and tidying her hair as best she could in the mirror, Amy quickly made her way there.
‘Ah, so you’re back then,’ the old lady greeted her as she entered the room, then she pointed to a laden tea-trolley. ‘Come and pour the tea. I’ve been waiting for you, and then you can tell me all about your day.’ She was now fully recovered from her journey of the day before and eager to hear Amy’s news.
Amy was only too happy to oblige and whilst she was pouring the tea, Josephine Forrester joined them to listen to her. The girl was so full of the smart ladies that she had met and the wonderful shop that her eyes sparkled and Josephine found herself smiling. She was like a little ray of sunshine in a dark world – young and fresh and enthusiastic – and as Josephine listened to her she began to understand why her mother-in-law-Maude and her husband Samuel thought so highly of her. It was almost more than she could do to stop herself from reaching out and stroking the girl’s shining curls, so very like her own sweet Jessica’s, but she curbed the desire and instead listened intently.
Eventually, Amy excused herself. Her head was bursting with ideas and she wanted to go to her room and get them all down on paper before dinner, which is exactly what she did.
Dinner proved to be a merry affair. Amy had them all in stitches in the kitchen as she sashayed up and down mimicking some of the ladies that Miss Drake had served, and when she finally retired to bed she was tired but happy. Nancy eventually joined her in her room for what was to become their regular bedtime chat and the two girls gossiped well into the early hours of the morning. Already a friendship was springing up between them that was to last for the rest of their lives.
Almost before she knew it, Amy’s first week in London had passed. Most of it had been spent at the exclusive Kensington shop, but Mr Forrester had also taken her to visit his other two establishments.
On her first Saturday in London she awoke late and stretched lazily. Samuel had informed her that there would be no work today. He wanted her to have a rest and so apart from doing some sketching, Amy had no idea of how she was going to fill in her time. However, if she had no plans someone else certainly had, as she was to discover after leaving the kitchen following a late breakfast. Amy had just entered the hallway on her way back to her room when she saw Josephine Forrester descending the stairs, and as she spotted Amy she raised her hand.
‘Ah, you’re just the person I wanted to see. Would you come into the drawing room, dear?’ she asked pleasantly. She was obviously in fine spirits. ‘My mother-in-law and I have a little idea that we would like to put to you.’
Intrigued, Amy followed her into the drawing room where the elderly mistress was reclining on a sofa with a magazine spread out in front of her.
She patted the seat at the side of her, and Amy took her place at the old woman’s side without hesitation.
‘Now then, shall I tell her or will you?’ The old lady cocked a heavily plucked eyebrow at her daughter-in-law and after Josephine inclined her head she went on, ‘Now then, lass, Josephine and I have had our heads together and we’ve decided that all work an’ no play is good for neither man nor beast.’ Unsure of what she meant, Amy frowned as the old woman wagged a ring-bedecked finger in her face. ‘You’re going on a shopping trip, me gel,’ she informed her gleefully. ‘We’ve decided it’s time you had a few new outfits.’
Amy immediately opened her mouth to protest but the old woman held up her hand to silence her. ‘Now don’t go getting on your ’igh horse,’ she warned. ‘It ain’t charity we’re offering. We need you looking smart in the shops. It’s all part and parcel of your new role. Besides, if truth be told, you’ll be doing Josephine a favour. She loves shoppin’ and spending my son’s money. I’d come with you meself but I ain’t as nifty on me feet as I used to be. So what do you say, eh?’
Amy thought about it for a moment. ‘I’d say that would be lovely if you’re quite sure,’ she told her shyly.
Josephine beamed with satisfaction. ‘Very well then. Get yourself upstairs and put your bonnet on and we’ll be off. There’s no time like the present.’
Amy needed no second bidding and after respectfully bobbing her knee she flew from the room and took the stairs two at a time. She was back in the hallway in record time, her hair brushed and her eyes gleaming. When Josephine joined her a few moments later, looking beautiful in an elegant day suit and matching hat, it would have been hard to say who was the more excited of the two. It had been many years since Josephine had been able to spend time with a young woman, and she was looking forward to the shopping trip immensely. She had hoped to find a daughter in Eugenie when Adam had first married, but had soon discovered that this would never happen. Eugenie showed no interest whatsoever in spending time with her mother-in-law, and this had been a huge disappointment for Josephine.
In no time at all a carriage arrived to take them to Piccadilly Circus, the heart of London, and as the horse clipclopped along the cobbled streets, Josephine pointed out places of interest. Amy stared at in awe, leaning out of the carriage window as far as she dare.
The magnificent store of Swan & Edgar was situated on the corner of Piccadilly Circus – mere minutes away from Buckingham Palace, Josephine informed the awestruck girl. The store was very exclusive, and an immaculately dressed assistant hurried over to them. There was a bubble of excitement in Amy’s stomach but as she began to look through the rails of beautifully presented clothes she bit her lip in constemation. Everything looked so expensive! Noting her reaction, Josephine began to draw out different garments.
