The Gown(66)

“Thanks for letting me prevail upon you again, Belinda. This is my friend Heather Mackenzie. Turns out her grandmother also worked at Hartnell.”

“How super. Well, you’ve come on a good day. Nearly everyone upstairs is on holiday, so you’ve got the place to yourselves. You know the way, right?”

“That I do. Thanks again.”

With Heather trailing behind, Daniel set off up the stairs, along a long hallway, and into a sunny room with tall windows and improbably high ceilings. The walls and much of the trim were painted in a pretty sort of grayish green, there were mirrors hanging everywhere, and several enormous crystal chandeliers further illuminated the space.

“This was one of the salesrooms,” Daniel explained. “Rather a miracle that it survived, when you think of it. So many of these buildings were stripped bare in the seventies and eighties.”

“It stayed this way the whole time Mr. Hartnell was a designer?”

“It must have done. Mimi remembers that everything seemed to glitter. It reminded her of Versailles, she says.”

“And what about the workrooms? I can’t imagine they had chandeliers hanging from their ceilings.”

“You’re right about that. Let me show you—they’re tucked away at the back.” Heather followed him through a part of the building that had definitely not been restored, for its decor, in contrast, was little more than peeling paint and dust-laden cobwebs. Along a narrow corridor, up and down several short flights of stairs, until finally they stood before a battered metal door.

Daniel hauled it open and ushered her through. “This is it.”

They were on a landing. A rickety run of steps led down to the workroom floor, which was largely obscured by stacks of folding tables and chairs and a hodgepodge of boxes. The far wall was nearly all windows, though they were so dusty they didn’t let in much light. In spite of the changes, Heather recognized it as the room where Nan and Miriam had posed for the picture as they waited for the queen.

Deciding not to think about the relative safety of the steps, she hurried down and strode across the room to the windows. Pulling a tissue from her bag, she wiped clean one pane of glass so she could look out on the street below.

“This is the mews that runs parallel to Bruton Street,” Daniel said, coming to stand next to her. “The big entrance was only for Hartnell and his customers. The only time Mimi ever walked through it was when she first came to London and needed a job. She was desperate, and certain she’d be turned away if she went to the staff entrance, so she pretended to be a client.”

“She never came back, later on, to have clothes made?”

“No. Her work has grown in value, but my grandparents were never wealthy people.”

Heather turned to look at the workroom again, then closed her eyes and tried to imagine the space as it had once been. Busy, so busy, and full of life and color and beauty. She tried to imagine Nan in the room, a Nan who had been young and pretty and full of hope. A Nan who had loved her work and was happy with her life.

What had happened? What had driven her away?

“This is the closest I’ve felt to her since she died,” Heather whispered. “As if I open my eyes she’ll be here, and she’ll be ready to tell me everything.” She blinked away the tears that were trying to embarrass her in front of Daniel. Nan was gone. Of course she was gone.

“I just don’t understand why she never told us. It doesn’t make any sense. I was close to her, really close, and so was my mom. I told Nan everything. And then to find out about all of this, and to know she kept it all locked away.”

“Nothing?” he asked softly.

“Nothing. Not one word.”

“You said she had a shop?”

“Yes. Ann’s Knitting and Notions. She sold yarn and knitting needles and buttons and things. She loved to knit. Liked keeping her hands busy, she always said.”

“And you never saw her do any embroidery?”

“Never. I can ask my mom, but I’m pretty sure she never did.”

“Mimi might know why,” he said.

Heather turned to face him, not quite willing to believe her ears. He smiled, his pale eyes warm, and she knew she hadn’t mistaken him. “Would you ask her for me?”

“You can ask her yourself. I’m sorry I didn’t offer to introduce you straightaway. I’m a little protective of her, for reasons that . . . well, let’s just say I try to err on the side of caution.”

“What made you decide I’m a safe bet?”

“It’s simple. Your grandmother was kind to Mimi at a time when she badly needed a friend. Now it’s my turn to do the same for you.”





Chapter Nineteen


Ann


September 24, 1947

Ann was looking forward to her evening out with Jeremy. She was. It was only the matter of what she would wear that was keeping her awake at night.

“If we were going back to that little café in Soho it wouldn’t be a problem,” she confided in Miriam at the beginning of the week. “But this is Quaglino’s. You can’t swing a cat without hitting a debutante there. And everyone will be dressed to the nines.”

“I wish I had something suitable to lend you. There is my suit from Paris, but you are dining at eight o’clock. You will need something more formal, and good shoes and gloves as well. If only we could make something.”