by Maggie Ford
Her first commission had been terrifying. She’d lost sleep worrying about it, visualizing her customer shaking her head in disappointment, she feeling a fool and never getting another commission. But the woman had been delighted. Julia had discovered a gift she never knew she had; incapable of sewing two pieces of cloth together she had now developed a talent for design, sketching away with surprising results. With Betty left to the cutting and overseeing of the sewing, they made a perfect team.
They had sectioned off the shop so that one side held Simon’s fashion jewellery, intended for stage costumes but no longer cheap and cheerful. Instead were long strings of cultured pearls; slave bangles of silver or rolled gold; shoulder and corsage brooches, still paste jewellery but of much better quality; long diamanté or cultured pearl earrings, also of superior quality. He now sold stage make-up as well, and his counter was always busy.
Julia’s side of the shop displayed beautiful silks, satins, crêpe de Chine and other lovely material, arranged on shelves and in cubicles or tastefully draped on one or two mannequins. The back room, now a modern fashion showroom with curtained fitting rooms, had soft grey carpet, art deco mirrors, lacquer-red and black cube design window drapes hiding the back yard, a glass show cabinet with a glass fountain, and a low-backed, comfortable, red and black sofa with several matching chairs, making it a quiet and peaceful place for customers.
The floor above now housed a workroom, stockroom, office, staff room and toilet. They’d considered subletting to help pay off the bank loan but there was no need now. Here too Julia did her design work. Part of the stockroom had been partitioned off for Simon’s living quarters, a small bedroom and a living room. Though she was still living upstairs with her family, Julia would have her lunch with him though dinner was always taken with the family.
If she and Simon were going out somewhere in the evening, perhaps to a show or a cinema, they’d have dinner out. Simon had suggested some time ago that she could come down to his quarters occasionally to enjoy an evening listening to dance music on the wireless set he had just bought. Wirelesses were now all the rage.
When she had broached the subject with her mother, Victoria had been shocked at the idea of her spending whole evenings downstairs with Simon.
‘Oh, Julia!’ she had gasped in tones of such horror that Julia had not pursued the matter.
It was best not to rock the boat. After all, a whole summer had gone by – where it had gone she hardly knew – and Simon had so far not spoken of marriage or even engagement. Perhaps, she thought, it was because of the pressure they had been under to get the shop up and running. Yet she knew he loved her.
‘You an’ Mr Layzell be goin’ out tonight?’ Betty’s voice broke through Julia’s thoughts. ‘Only, if you are, I shan’t work late if that’s orright.’
Julia came to herself with a start. Betty had a tiny one-roomed flat above a solicitor’s a few doors away.
‘Only I got a bit of a backache what’s gettin’ me down a bit.’
Julia made herself concentrate. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, Betty! Do you want to go now?’
‘No, that’s orright, I’ll finish at me usual time then go and ’ave a good lie down.’ She would often stay late if there was a rush on. ‘Sooner ’ere than be in me flat all on me own,’ she’d say, though she did go off to a working women’s social club quite often with a few friends she’d made.
‘That’s fine, Betty. And I hope you feel better in the morning.’
‘Yes, of course,’ was the cheerful retort, leaving Julia wondering as she left Betty to it, if she’d be as cheerful if she’d lost a husband in the war. How would she feel if anything were to happen to Simon? God forbid! Her mother had taken their father’s death very hard and still suffered. How would she have coped if Chester had died when she’d still been in love with him? She hadn’t thought about him for a long time, but every now and again she was reminded of the humiliation of being cast aside; a vague echo not of love or loss but of resentment.
Julia turned her mind quickly to thoughts of tonight. She and Simon were going to the new Tivoli in the Strand, which was being called a super-cinema. But it wasn’t the film Julia was thinking about, it was arriving back here, saying goodnight to Simon and having to go upstairs to her family’s quarters.
It was an effort of will not to stay, not to linger over a nightcap in his room. He’d never take advantage of her, she knew that. No, she was afraid of herself; of her own needs overpowering her; of the consequences of giving themselves up to each other. If she were to conceive a child she knew he would marry her, but it would be a marriage tainted.
Often, as he kissed her goodnight, she’d remember the one and only time they had thrown caution to the wind on that hard little bed in the back of his old shop. It had caused such awkwardness between them afterwards she could still feel it. She was sure he felt it too since he had never let it happen again. Yet she often wondered if he ached for her quite as much as she did for him.
Unable to bring herself to ask him such a question outright, she had to remain content with ardent kisses, almost desperate embraces, before she would break away, saying that she must go upstairs. At that he would give her the dismal nod of agreement she hated. If only just once he’d take the initiative and say, ‘Don’t go,’ she would stay like a shot. But he never did.
She told herself it was the constant string of worries that had spoiled any repetition of that one loving night: their minds concentrated on trying to make a go of the old shop; the dismay of realizing the lease wouldn’t be renewed; the desperate search for other premises; the effort involved to get the new shop up and running; the worry of how to afford paying back the bank loan; the unceasing hard work ever since. Now, with two days to go to October, and Christmas once again on the horizon, she knew they’d probably be too occupied getting ready for the busy season to speak of personal matters.
Watching the cinema screen that evening, Julia could barely concentrate on the story or what the actors were doing. She could think of nothing but the end of their evening; of not going upstairs for once, instead letting him draw her into his bedroom, of lying in his bed, his hands gently, tenderly exploring her naked body, the heat of his kisses, she and he becoming one. But she knew it wouldn’t happen. She might stay for a nightcap, maybe even longer, but as soon as she had finished her drink she would say she must go, that her mother would be wondering where she was. What if she didn’t though?
With these thoughts going round and round in her head she returned home with Simon. They crossed the stockroom together, he with his hand in hers, she with her heart thumping in anticipation of what could be if she allowed love to take its course.
At the door he paused before opening it, turning to look at her. ‘You’ll have a drink before you go?’
Why did he always say it in that tone of voice, as if he thought she might turn and run for her life?
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
Already her heart had calmed for she knew what would happen. He would put his finished whisky glass on the little sideboard, take her almost empty glass and put that too to one side, then kiss her. Gently and lovingly at first, but as the kiss became a little more urgent, making her want to melt into his arms, she would feel her muscles stiffen and he would feel them too, and let go of her. Then she would move away from him, saying it was late, her mother would be worrying. Excuses, excuses!
For something to say to combat her unease as they stood in his lounge with their drinks, she said, ‘I think Virginia is enjoying modelling dresses. I think that as it’s only in the salon and for lady customers she feels safe. And she is so pretty and graceful and so slim that she attracts clients to buy…’
Realizing she was gabbling on, she let her words tail off.
He didn’t respond. He hadn’t even smiled. He stood gazing silently at her for so long that she laughed nervously. ‘What is it?’
‘I was just wondering when you were going to say that in a moment you’ll
have to be going upstairs, that your mother will be worrying again.’
It was said so slowly and deliberately that it sounded more like a taunt, leaving her at a loss.
‘I… wasn’t…’ she faltered, frowning at the brusque way he’d spoken to her.
But he wasn’t finished. ‘Only your mother may be wondering where you are if you stay too long,’ he went on in the same tone.
Taken aback, and hurt by his accusatory tone, Julia found her voice. ‘It’s not that…’ she began, then stopped, confused.
He still hadn’t smiled, but his tone had softened. ‘Come and sit down for a moment,’ he said quietly. Wordlessly she followed him over to the little two-seater sofa and they sat down together.
‘We’ve known each other for nearly eighteen months,’ he began.
‘July 1922,’ she interrupted. ‘Nearly fifteen months.’ To her relief she saw him smile at last.
‘Then don’t you think it’s about time we got married?’
Julia found herself holding her breath. It had come right out of the blue and for a second she thought she had misheard him. But in the next second her breath returned with a gasp as she realized that she had heard him correctly.
He was still looking at her and it seemed to her an age had passed since he’d said the words. Now he took her hands between his and as she remained staring at him, he looked steadily into her eyes.
‘Julia, will you marry me?’
‘Yes,’ she said in a small voice. And then, breathless with sudden, overwhelming happiness, she burst out, ‘Oh, yes, Simon, oh, yes, yes!’
The next moment she was in his arms, all thoughts of leaving forgotten. Tonight she would not leave; tonight she would stay with the man she loved – and upstairs they could think what they damn well liked!
* * *
‘It’s disgusting!’ Stephanie stalked back and forth across the large, well-furnished living room, her fists clenched, her pretty features tight. It didn’t occur to her to feel glad for her sister, to feel gratitude for the lovely flat that they now lived in, provided for them by her sister, whose good fortune had been so generously shared with them.
‘And you!’ She turned on Virginia with a sneer. ‘Surely you won’t be going on working for her still, knowing what’s been going on.’
Ginny bristled. ‘What’s been going on, as you put it, is no business of mine.’
‘It’s all our business,’ Stephanie raged on. ‘She’s our sister, and your daughter, Mummy.’ She turned to her mother, who sat with clasped hands in the lovely brocade armchair that was part of the suite Julia had bought for them. ‘And I certainly don’t think it proper for Ginny to go on modelling for her, knowing what those two have obviously been up to.’
They’d been concerned when Julia hadn’t come back upstairs after her evening out and Stephanie had been all for going down to Simon’s rooms to find out what was going on.
‘For all we know she might have been knocked down on her way home and taken into hospital,’ she’d said.
Her mother had said quietly, ‘We would have been told. We were told straightaway when your poor father…’ she’d broken off, unable to say any more.
Refusing to be silenced, Stephanie had gone down the iron stairs outside to the back yard, returning a couple of minutes later with lips as tight as if they’d been welded together. ‘She’s there – with him! The lights are on in his rooms, so where is she? I’ll tell you where she is, she’s with him!’
James was philosophical. ‘There’s not much we can do about it. She’s over twenty-one and can do as she pleases, though I hardly think she’ll get much of a welcome up here from any of you!’
He deliberately excluded himself from his family’s censure. Now that he had a girlfriend he knew how hard it could be for young people to rein in strong feelings. But he wasn’t prepared to let these outraged women into his private affairs so he merely allowed himself to put on an indignant expression and went hurriedly off to bed.
‘She certainly won’t get any welcome from us,’ Stephanie said after he’d gone. ‘In fact she should be ashamed to show her face.’
‘But she still lives here,’ Virginia reminded her. ‘And she’s done so much for us and as James said, it is her business what she does.’
‘You mean you condone her behaviour?’
‘No! I just… well, she’s…’ Before her sister’s glare she shrugged and let it go.
Sleep that night, at least for Stephanie and her mother, was disturbed by vivid imaginings of Julia’s improprieties. It was worse for Victoria, who had brought up her daughters to respect their purity until marriage. When she finally slept it was only to dream of turning her daughter out. She woke up on Sunday morning to find her pillow wet with tears.
Later, when Julia came upstairs to tell them joyfully that Simon had proposed to her and they were planning to get engaged as soon as possible, she was met with total silence from her mother, her good news ignored. From Stephanie came the caustic remark, ‘I suppose you’ve had breakfast with him as well!’ to which Julia made no reply.
The only friendly words came from Virginia, who whispered, ‘How exciting! An engagement! Congrats, Julia, I’m so pleased for you,’ and then probably a little guilelessly, ‘I will still be your model, whatever happens.’
There had been friendliness too from James, whose wry, knowing grin made her wonder what he, now eighteen, got up to when he was with his girl, Georgina. He appeared to be going steady with her, although he’d not yet brought her home to meet them.
It was an uncomfortable morning, one she was glad to see the back of. She and Simon planned to take advantage of a fine September day to have Sunday lunch out (she couldn’t have borne to eat here at home), later to take a stroll in Hyde Park, dine out and spend the rest of what promised to be a fine evening wandering along the Embankment.
Last night had been so wonderful; he had shown such concern for her, making her feel safe in his hands. They had not yet decided on a date for their wedding. With a business to run it would have to be fitted in outside the busy times, such as the build-up to Christmas. Maybe in the spring, although that too was a busy time; so in fact was summer. Still, it was something wonderful to look forward to and she felt entirely at ease with whatever the future held. Even so, staying the night with him should not be a permanent situation; she had her family to consider. She ought to have known what their reaction to last night would be, and had to admit they were justified in their feelings about it.
She told him her decision as they ate lunch. To her surprise and relief he agreed. ‘I don’t want to come between you and them. After all, in time I’ll be an in-law. Can’t start off on the wrong foot, can I?’
‘But we will be together some of the time until then?’ she pleaded, in sudden fear that it might be a while before last night was repeated.
He took her hand across the lunch table. ‘That must be left up to you, my darling. I want us to be together every night of the week, but think carefully. It would cause enmity between you and your family and I wouldn’t want that. Only know that I love you.’
His declaration made her tingle with happiness yet his warning also made her think as they lounged on the grass in Hyde Park, surrounded by other couples and families with children, all taking advantage of the September sunshine. But she and Simon hardly noticed the others as she lay on her back, her head resting in his lap, each of them entirely at ease with the other. How different it was from the only other time they’d made love, last year, when they’d both felt so awkward afterwards.
He began tickling her lip with a short grass stem he’d just plucked, making her turn her face aside and brush the stem away. ‘Now I suppose I must get you an engagement ring,’ he said suddenly.
‘Not if you don’t want to,’ she said with mock haughtiness, pushing aside a silly twinge of uncertainty at the odd way he had spoken.
‘I suppose it will have to be a good one,’ he went on lightly. ‘None of my sho
p junk.’
‘I hope not.’ She broke off the banter to gaze up at him in sudden foolish doubt. He was joking of course, yet it seemed to her he’d been a little too quick off the mark in telling her to be wary of going against social decencies and hurting her family. ‘You are going to get an engagement ring though?’
Still being playful, he bent over and kissed her lightly on the nose. ‘I suppose I’ll have to. What would you fancy – a solitaire, a band, a cluster?’
Hardly giving her time to answer, he lifted her up from where she lay, and taking her in his arms, he kissed her, a lingering kiss, in full view of everyone.
‘I love you,’ he said deeply as they broke away, then instantly became playful again. ‘OK, hopefully tomorrow when we close shop for lunch, we’ll chase over to Hatton Garden and see what we can find in the way of a really lovely ring – one that will take your breath away.’
He sounded so youthful, like a schoolboy with a sudden new idea. Casting aside all her doubts Julia knew with a sudden rush of joy that her life as Simon’s wife was going to be the most wonderful anyone could ever wish to have.
Seventeen
‘Mummy, we’ve set the wedding date for Saturday the first of March, before the spring rush begins.’
Julia’s voice carried no enthusiasm and Stephanie knew why as their mother hardly glanced up from her armchair where she was darning a little hole in one of her lisle stockings.
She felt a tug of guilt that she was the one keeping alive her mother’s repugnance of Julia’s flagrant behaviour. That it was flagrant she had no doubt; her sister’s expression gave her away, hardly able to meet her mother’s accusing eyes, her face lowered in an effort to conceal the ugly truth there on her face.
