by Daisy Styles
‘The dresses!’ Bella added, and turned to Ruby. ‘Do you know what you’re going to wear?’
‘I thought I might wear a suit.’
‘No! You can’t!’ Bella exclaimed.
‘Where am I going to get a wedding dress at such short notice?’ Ruby asked.
‘If we pooled all our clothes coupons, would that be enough for a wedding dress?’ Maudie asked, then giggled as she joked, ‘You’re so small, Ruby, you wouldn’t need much material!’
‘That’s sweet of you to offer,’ Ruby said, ‘but then, what would you all wear?’
‘We could never get together enough clothing coupons for all of us to have new frocks,’ Ava pointed out.
‘Maybe we should all wear suits?’ Maudie said glumly.
‘There’s nothing wrong with Fashion on the Ration!’ Ruby announced staunchly. ‘Thousands do it without any complaints. Why not me and Raf?’
‘How about borrowing somebody else’s wedding dress?’ Ava suggested.
‘I’ve put the word out among friends and family,’ Ruby replied. ‘We might get lucky,’ she added doubtfully.
Bella suddenly said, ‘There’s a wardrobe in the attic that’s stuffed with old ballgowns!’
Ruby, who knew the contents of the attic as well as she knew the contents of the scullery, stared at her incredulously. ‘You wouldn’t dare?’ she gasped.
With her blue eyes glittering brightly, Bella nodded. ‘Nobody’s been near that stuff for years, apart from me! I used to sneak up there and dress up on rainy days,’ she confessed.
Maudie sprung to her feet. ‘Let’s go and take a peek,’ she cried. ‘There might be stuff that we could use.’
‘Not now, it’s nearly supper,’ Ava said firmly. ‘Time to warm up the macaroni cheese.’
‘Slave driver!’ teased Bella. ‘When can we take a half-hour off to investigate?’
Now crouched on the floor, sliding huge trays of macaroni cheese into the Aga, Ava looked up and grinned at Bella. ‘Straight after lunch tomorrow,’ she replied, without a moment’s hesitation.
The following day, the girls flew through serving lunch, causing the Brig to remark, ‘What’s going on? I’m in terror of blinking in case you take away my delicious apple strudel.’
‘We’re on a secret mission,’ Bella whispered conspiratorially.
Ruby led the way up the back stairs to the large attic at the top of the house, which had high windows giving on to views of the parkland and the vast Walsingham estate.
‘Look!’ Ava cried, standing on her tiptoes and peering out. ‘I can see the path that Tom and I take when we ride down to the sea.’
‘You won’t see the sea today,’ Ruby joked. ‘It’s about two miles out at this time of the year.’
‘Come on,’ urged Bella, as she threw open the wardrobe doors. ‘We’re not here for the view!’
‘Pooh! What a pong!’ gasped Ruby, as the acrid smell of mothballs filled the room.
‘Hopefully, it’s kept the moths away,’ said Bella, as she pulled out one gown after another. ‘They’re all quite dated, but that doesn’t matter if the fabric’s good,’ she went on, flinging the dresses on to an old chaise longue. ‘Green, blue, silver, peach, gold.’ She paused and smiled. ‘I knew it – white!’ Holding a heavy white satin cocktail dress aloft, she examined the length of the train, which was edged with white velvet interlaced with tiny, glittering stones. ‘This could be made into the perfect bridal gown,’ she said, thrusting the dress into Ruby’s arms.
‘Oh, God, it’s gorgeous,’ Ruby sighed, with tears in her eyes.
‘Take your clothes off,’ Bella instructed. ‘Try it on.’
Ruby whipped off her work clothes and slipped into the slithery, satin cocktail dress, which drowned her small, slim frame.
‘It’s too big!’ she wailed.
‘Of course it is.’ Bella laughed. ‘Mother’s nearly twice as tall as you.’
‘Don’t worry, it can be altered,’ Maudie assured her.
‘I could have a go at altering it on the old Singer machine in the sewing room,’ Ava volunteered, then her face fell. ‘Though, if I’m honest, I’d be terrified of making a mess of it,’ she confessed.
‘And there’s all the bridesmaids’ dresses to make, too,’ Ruby said, as she longingly fondled the wonderful dresses draped over the chaise longue. ‘There just isn’t enough time,’ she concluded, with a heavy, resigned sigh.
Maudie shook her head, and a slow smile spread across her pale face. ‘I know exactly who could run up five dresses in record time,’ she said quietly.
‘Who?’ they all cried.
‘Mama.’
‘Your mum?’ exclaimed Ava.
Maudie nodded and continued, ‘She used to be a seamstress in Krakow, before she met Papa. After they married, she became a baker and worked alongside him. She made all my clothes when I was a little girl,’ she added proudly.
‘We couldn’t ask that of your family, though?’ Ruby said in an anxious voice.
‘She could come here,’ Maudie suggested.
‘Is your father well enough for your mother to leave him?’ Ava asked.
Maudie nodded thoughtfully. ‘It would take some planning, but I think I know how it could be done,’ she said, with a confident ring to her voice.
‘So, if we managed to get the dress-making sorted,’ Bella said, ‘how do we decide which of these dresses to use?’ She pointed at the array of frocks. ‘There are at least three pink dresses, but none of them is the same shade of pink.’
‘Why should that be a problem?’ Maudie asked.
‘Because bridesmaids usually wear matching colours,’ Bella replied.
‘I know I’m in danger of repeating myself, but this is Fashion on the Ration,’ Ruby chided.
‘Point taken,’ Ava conceded. ‘So tell us, what would you like, Ruby?’
Ruby wriggled uncomfortably. ‘I wasn’t expecting this much, so I don’t want to sound picky …’
‘You’re only a bride once,’ Bella reminded her.
‘If you’re lucky!’ Maudie quipped.
‘Well, if I’m honest, I’d love it if you were all in the same colour,’ Ruby confessed.
‘Oh, so you don’t fancy your three bridesmaids wearing clashing green, silver and black dresses?’ Maudie teased.
Bella looked thoughtfully at Ruby. ‘What happened to those silk curtains that hung in Mummy’s dressing room years ago? They didn’t get thrown out, did they?’
‘They were too good to be thrown out,’ Ruby replied. ‘They’re probably stored away somewhere.’
The two girls looked at each other, then spoke at the same time. ‘Timms!’
Later that day, Bella was delegated to sweet-talk Timms.
‘At least she won’t spit in your face,’ giggled Ava.
‘Thanks for that,’ Bella retorted. ‘Wish me luck as I enter the dragon’s den.’
Timms was simperingly surprised when Bella knocked gently on her parlour door, bearing a Victoria sponge cake, which she knew from years past that Timms adored.
‘We had extra eggs from Peter’s estate hens,’ Bella explained, as she cut a large slice for the former housekeeper. She didn’t add that she’d given up her week’s sugar ration to make the cake. ‘There you go,’ she said, presented it to Timms, along with a large glass of her father’s vintage sherry.
After eating half of the Victoria sponge cake and drinking a second large glass of sherry, Bella had all the information she needed.
‘The curtains are in the chest in the small back-attic room,’ she told Ruby, when she came rushing back into the kitchen.
The two girls dashed up the back stairs and returned laden down with bundles of heavy silk curtains.
‘Pink!’ a delighted Ruby cried, as she twisted the fabric around her body.
Ava sneezed as dust flew up. ‘Ugh, they’ll need a bit of a wash!’
‘I can sort that out,’ said Ruby confidently.
‘And Ma
ma can do the rest!’ Maudie said happily.
16. Mumia
Rafal drove Maudie to Wells railway station to pick up Mrs Fazakerley, who, unlike her slender-hipped, willowy daughter, was small and squat, with a face like a soft baked roll and topped by a mass of short, grey curls. Alternating between English and German, she staggered off the train, talking nineteen to the dozen.
‘Schätzel!’ she cried, as Maudie ran into her arms. ‘Darling girl, how are you?’
‘All the better for seeing you, Mumia,’ Maudie replied happily.
‘Let me help you with those,’ Rafal said in Polish, pointing at the two huge suitcases Mrs Fazakerly had lugged all the way from London.
‘You speak Polish!’ she exclaimed, and clapped her hands in delight. ‘I lived in Krakow before I met Maudie’s father and moved to Hamburg,’ she gabbled. ‘Fazakerley is not our real name?’ she continued, scrambling into the jeep. ‘Our family name is Fazhlo, but nobody could pronounce it, so we anglicized it to make life simple.’
Rafal grinned as he replied in his mother tongue, ‘Madam Fazhlo, welcome to beautiful Norfolk!’
The journey back to the hall was astonishing for Mrs Fazarkery, whose knowledge of England was strictly limited to the East End of London, though, when Maudie was a little girl, she had travelled to Luton for her friend’s wedding.
‘Where is the sea?’ she exclaimed, as they bounced along in the jeep, passing the marshland that edged the coastline.
‘Miles and miles away,’ Maudie replied with a laugh.
Before they reached Walsingham Hall, Maudie asked who was looking after her father.
‘All arranged,’ Mrs Fazakerly announced. ‘Miriam across the street ‒ you know, the one that used to be a nurse?’
Maudie nodded.
‘She’ll be keeping an eye on Papa. Don’t worry, she’ll keep him in his place,’ her mother added, with a knowing wink.
‘And the shop?’
‘We hired a baker to come in for a few days.’
Maudie gasped in dismay when she heard this. ‘You can’t afford to pay somebody to help you!’
Her mother waved one hand dismissively in the air. ‘Hey, it’s Joseph, Papa’s old friend, and he’s lonely after the death of his wife. He said he’d enjoy the change, but we insisted on paying him something. Anyway, dearest, I needed a holiday, and where better to be than with my daughter?’ Seeing Maudie’s anxious expression, Mrs Fazakerly planted a kiss on her cheek. ‘Stop worrying, child, it’s only for three days. Papa will be fine.’
When they reached the ornamental gates that led on to the drive and parkland of the hall, Mrs Fazakerley’s jaw dropped.
‘Oh, mein Gott!’ she gasped. ‘Is this where the king lives?’
As they passed the perfect Palladian front entrance, Mrs Fazakerly shook her head in wonder. ‘You never told me you were living in a palace, liebling!’
‘We go in the back way, Mumia,’ Maudie explained. ‘We live below stairs.’
‘Upstairs, downstairs! Who cares? It’s all sooooo beautiful!’ raved Mrs Fazakerly.
Rafal dropped his passengers off by the back door, then, after unloading the luggage, he drove off, but not before kissing Mrs Fazakerly on both cheeks.
‘A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,’ he said in Polish.
Maudie’s mum pinched his pale cheeks and replied in the same language, ‘Whoever the bride is, she’s lucky to have such a handsome Polski boy.’
Bella, Ava and Ruby warmly welcomed Mrs Fazakerly, who hugged and kissed them all.
‘Thank you for coming all this way to help us, Mrs Fazakerly,’ Ruby said gratefully.
‘It’s a pleasure. Anything I can do for Maudie’s friends, I will do – and please call me Mumia.’
Her gazed travelled from the smiling girls to the vast scullery, which was dominated by several tall Welsh dressers piled high with crockery, then to the old Aga range, already loaded with bubbling supper pans and, finally, to the long kitchen table surrounded by upright wooden chairs.
‘Even the kitchen’s like a palace,’ she murmured.
‘There are a dozen more rooms below stairs,’ Ruby told her. ‘Maudie got lost all the time when she first arrived.’ She giggled.
‘So now, little bride, show me what we have.’
Ava and Ruby dashed out of the kitchen and returned with the roll of washed pink silk and the white satin cocktail dress. Holding the dress up against her body, Ruby said excitedly, ‘This is for me! And that,’ she added, pointing to the silk that Ava laid on the table, ‘is for my bridesmaids.’
Mrs Fazakerly popped a pair of steel-rimmed spectacles on to her nose and ran an expert hand over the silk and the satin.
‘What do you think, Mumia, will it work?’ Maudie asked.
‘Don’t hurry me, child,’ her mother replied, as she unwound the roll of pink silk that spilled over the sides of the kitchen table in soft, delicate folds. Nodding her head, she smiled. ‘It will do, but for how many?’
Ruby pointed to her friends. ‘Bella, Ava and Maudie ‒ my three bridesmaids.’
‘Time to do some measuring,’ said Mrs Fazakerly. ‘Clothes off!’
Standing close to the Aga in order to keep warm, the girls stripped down to their underwear so that Mumia could measure them from top to bottom. While they were putting their uniforms back on, Mrs Fazakerly asked, ‘So where would you like me to work? I’ll need a big, clean space.’
‘There’s a sewing room just along the corridor,’ Ruby replied.
‘Show me the way,’ Mrs Fazakerly replied with an excited smile.
The sewing room contained a high, wide table with a brass tape measuring a yard built neatly into a side panel.
‘Perfect for cutting out paper patterns!’ Mumia exclaimed.
There was a Singer machine with a heavy treadle, which Mumia’s feet just reached. There were several tall chests of drawers containing bolts of material for making tea-towels and sheets, an ironing table, two full-length mirrors and a modern electric iron, the sight of which filled Maudie’s mum with relief.
‘Thank God I don’t have to use an old flat iron,’ she said. ‘I’ve scorched too many things in my life with those heavy metal things.’
The wooden pulley hanging from the ceiling delighted Mrs Fazakerly. ‘Excellent!’ she cried. ‘I’ll be able to hang all the dresses up there, and they won’t get creased or dirty.’ She turned to her daughter. ‘Bring me a pot of strong black coffee, schätzel, and I’ll get started right away.’
The days that followed were wonderful. It was exciting for all of them, especially Ruby, to see their gowns being made, but it was the company of Mumia that made the girls so happy and strangely carefree. Their days, as ever, were dictated by the routine of cooking, cleaning, preparing food and clearing away but, with Mrs Fazakerly below stairs, they were like light-hearted, giggly schoolgirls. Every time they passed the sewing room, where the door was always left wide open, they’d pop their heads in and smile at the little lady working on the sewing machine, singing Polish folk songs to the rhythm of the clattering treadle.
‘Come see, liebling,’ Mumia would cry when she caught sight of a curious girl. ‘Please, no dirty hands, though,’ she warned.
The fitting sessions were a riot of laughter. The girls stood in bra and knickers, shivering in the sewing room, which wasn’t warmed by a wood-burning Aga, and turned this way and that as Mumia pinned the slippery, cool, pink silk to their bodies.
‘My Maudie is so tall and skinny compared to you two soft, curvy girls,’ she told Ava and Bella, as she smoothed the silk bodices over their full breasts.
‘Are you saying I’m flat-chested?’ Maudie joked.
‘Not flat, just not much,’ her mother chuckled. ‘Don’t worry, the heart-shaped neckline I’ve cut out will make up for that.’
Bella, who’d had many expensive dresses made for her by bossy seamstresses, was especially impressed by Mrs Fazakerly’s easy creativity.
‘I love t
he off-the-shoulder puffed sleeves,’ she said, as she twirled in front of one of the full-length mirrors.
‘And the full-length skirt ‒ I feel like a princess!’ raved Ava, who looked gorgeous in the figure-hugging silk.
But it was Ruby who stole the show. Once Mumia had cut down and refitted the white silk, the bride-to-be looked stunning. The slashed neckline, the tight sleeves (fastened by tiny, silk-covered buttons) and the fitted waist emphasized Ruby’s small, slender frame, while the skirt cascading in thick, silky folds gave her some height. A tear rolled down Ruby’s cheek as she stared in wonder at her reflection in the mirror.
‘Oh, God,’ she sobbed. ‘It’s all my dreams come true.’
‘No tears, sweetheart!’ Mumia cried. ‘They’ll wet the dress and make a mess!’
As she turned Ruby around in order to make tiny alterations to the gown, Mumia said, through a bunch of pins she was gripping between her teeth, ‘A bride must have a veil.’
‘No, really, Mumia, I’m happy with what I’ve got,’ Ruby insisted.
Mrs Fazakerly shook her head vehemently.
‘You must have a head-dress and a veil; a traditional Polski groom will expect to see his virgin bride blushing behind her veil.’
Ruby’s face flushed with colour. Lucky she was still a virgin, she thought to herself. Rafal might have high religious principles, but she was longing to experience the full joy of their love-making. Another month of waiting might have pushed her over the edge. As far as she was concerned, the sooner she was wed, the better!
‘Where am I going to find a head-dress and veil?’ she exclaimed.
Ava and Maudie turned to Bella, who burst out laughing. ‘I’ll work on it,’ she promised.
Later that evening, after they’d cleared away the trainees’ supper, Bella showed her friends what she’d found in the chest of drawers in her upstairs bedroom.
‘A tiara I was forced to wear for a debutante’s ball years ago. It’s a bit tainted round the edges, but if we wash it in hot, soapy water and rub it with silver polish, it should come up as good as new,’ she said, as she handed the tiara to a smiling Ruby, who placed it on her swinging black hair, then danced around the kitchen wearing it.
