The Gown(79)
“They were. And such a thing was more complicated, I think, than it would be today. Perhaps we should begin by your telling me what you know. Then I will tell you what I know.”
“Okay. I guess I don’t actually know all that much. She only ever said that her parents had died when she was young, that her brother was killed in the Blitz, and that she came to Canada at the end of 1947. I do remember her saying the snow wasn’t that much of a shock because the previous winter in England had been so bad. And that was about it. She never talked about my grandfather, not even to my mom. We just assumed he had died. And there weren’t any pictures of him anywhere. I did ask her, once. She had photographs up of her parents and brother, but not my grandfather, and it made me curious.”
“What did she say?”
“She just changed the subject. Not in a mean way. She just said something like, ‘Let’s not waste the day talking about things that happened a long time ago,’ and that was that.”
“Did she ever speak of her old life in England?”
Heather shook her head. “Never. The only person who knew her from before was her sister-in-law, Milly. But she died when my mom was still young.”
“And of her work at Hartnell?”
“Nothing. I only started figuring things out after she died in March. My mom was going through Nan’s things and she found this set of embroidered flowers, and my name was on the box. ‘For Heather,’ Nan had written. As soon as we saw them we knew they were something special. I brought pictures if you’d like to see.”
“Yes—yes, of course. Let me fetch my spectacles.”
Heather moved her chair to sit alongside Miriam’s, and she set the stack of photographs on the tea table, and they looked through them together.
“Oh, yes. I remember these. I had forgotten how pretty they were.”
“What were they for? Were they samples of some kind?”
“Indeed they were. We made them for the princess and the queen, to ensure they approved of the motifs. I had one of them, I believe, for there were six or eight in total, but I haven’t seen it in years. I do hope I haven’t lost it.”
“What about the EP in the corner—could that be someone’s initials?”
“It is. ‘Elizabeth Principessa.’ For the bride.”
“Did you ever meet her?”
“Yes, although it was more a case of seeing her. Certainly I was not introduced. She and her mother—the Queen Mum, as you would know her—came for a visit before the wedding, along with Queen Mary and some of the other royal ladies. We were all quite bouleversées about it, but Ann was calm. Nothing ever seemed to fluster her.”
“Did you go to the wedding? When I was trying to learn about the gown, I read that some of the people who worked on it were invited to the ceremony.”
“No, although I was at Buckingham Palace on the morning of the wedding. In case of any last-minute disasters with any of the gowns we had made. But your grandmother was invited to Westminster Abbey, and Miss Duley, too. The woman in charge of our workroom.”
“Nan went to the royal wedding and she never told me?” Had she ever known anything about her grandmother? What, between them, had been real?
“No, ma belle. Do not be upset with her. Ann had her reasons for not speaking of the past, and it was a usual thing, in those days, to keep our secrets. It astonishes me, you know, the way you young people are so honest about everything. Every moment of grief or trauma or loss, laid bare for all to see on your Facebook and Twitter.”
The phone, which sat on a desk a few feet away, began to ring. “I shall let the machine answer for me,” Miriam said, and offered Heather the plate of sablés.
“All?, Mimi? It’s Nathalie. I feel so bad, ’cause I just looked at my calendar and I know Ava and I are supposed to go see the queen’s dresses at the palace with you, but the tickets are for the same time as our exam. It’s that summer course we’re both taking, and I—”
“If you will excuse me,” Miriam said. “The poor child will wear herself out with apologies.” Heather would have offered to bring over the phone, but it was an old-fashioned one that was attached to the wall.
“Nathalie? Yes, I am here. I am having coffee with a friend. No, no. It is quite all right. I am certain I can find someone. Yes. And perhaps we can see about getting tickets again at the end of the summer? Of course. Toi aussi, ma belle.”
Miriam set down the receiver and returned to the tea table. “I do apologize. As you heard, that was one of my granddaughters. I was supposed to take her and her best friend to the summer opening at Buckingham Palace tomorrow, but they have an exam.” And then, fixing her bright eyes on Heather, “Would you like to come with me?”
“Are you sure?”
“Of course. It will give you a chance to see the gown itself, and the state rooms are certainly worth seeing. The tickets are for one o’clock in the afternoon. Does that suit you?”
She wouldn’t have objected if they’d been for five o’clock in the morning. “It does.”
“Wonderful. I shall ask Daniel to join us. Such a lovely boy. I shall miss him very much when he goes to America.”
“America? Doesn’t he live here in London?”
“He does, but he is going to New York City for a year to teach at one of their universities. I gather it is a very great honor for him to have been invited.”