by June Tate
Daisy chuckled. ‘There was a definite note of defiance in your voice then, Mrs Portman.’
Laughing quietly Grace said, ‘Well my mother-in-law tried to dictate to me, but she soon realized that I have a mind of my own.’ Finishing her tea, Grace said, ‘I think we need to meet and discuss this together and make plans, don’t you?’
‘It sounds very interesting,’ Daisy agreed.
‘Can you spare the time to come and have a bite to eat now, and we can talk at the same time?’
Agnes, who had been listening, chipped in. ‘You go, Daisy. There’s no fittings today and the work you’re doing can wait another few hours. I’ll be here if anyone calls.’
‘Thanks, Agnes.’ Turning to Grace, Daisy said, ‘Right, let’s go then.’
Brooks drove them to a hotel in the town and the two of them sat down and ordered lunch. ‘I want to finance you,’ said Grace without delay. ‘You’ll take forever to get established where you are.’
‘But you must get a return on your money,’ Daisy insisted and then with some concern asked, ‘Will you get any trouble from the family by investing in this?’
‘I won’t be using any of the Portman money, Daisy, I’ll be using my own, an inheritance from my grandmother, so I can certainly choose how I spend it. And once the business starts to make money, I’ll take a percentage. I’ll also do the accounts. I’m good at figures and it will give me an interest. What do you think?’
‘I think it’s a miracle!’
‘If it’s agreeable to you, Daisy, I’ll go round the estate agents and look for suitable premises. At the moment you have just Agnes working for you, but you’ll need more staff, another two girls I would say.’
Daisy looked worried. ‘I’m not at all sure we will have enough work for extra girls, after all we need to pay them wages and if they’re not doing anything …’ Her voice trailed off.
‘We’ll have plenty of work. I’ll rally my friends and get my mother to do the same. I promise you, you’ll have plenty to do and then it’s by word of mouth.’
‘There are two good seamstresses at my old place,’ said Daisy, ‘who I know, through Agnes, are less than happy working there. I could pass the word along.’
‘Excellent!’ said Grace. ‘If they are agreeable, tell them to keep it quiet and we’ll be in touch as soon as there is a shop for them to work in. What else would we need?’
‘Two more sewing machines, more material and another couple of tailor’s dummies for a start.’
‘Make a list when you get home, Daisy, and meantime I’ll look for a suitable shop. How marvellous! I’m so excited,’ she exclaimed.
‘I’m a bit stunned, Mrs Portman, to be honest.’
‘If we are to be partners, you must call me Grace.’
Daisy looked startled at the possibility of such familiarity with a woman of such standing, but when she looked into the smiling eyes of the animated woman opposite her, she knew it would be just fine.
‘All right – Grace,’ she said and they both burst into gales of laughter, much to the surprise of the other diners.
Daisy returned to Bernard Street in great style she thought as Brooks drove back to her workroom. Grinning at Grace as she alighted from the vehicle, she said, ‘I could get used to this.’
‘One day, Daisy, one day!’ laughed Grace. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ she said and waved as she was driven away.
Daisy almost ran into the workroom to pass on the good news to her faithful assistant. Agnes listened with baited breath as Daisy told her of the plans she and Grace had made for the future of Gilbert. Gowns à la Mode. They had decided to keep the title.
Agnes promised to talk to Rose and Doris, the two seamstresses that they’d worked with before. ‘They’re good workers,’ Agnes said, ‘and clever with their needle. Oh, Daisy, won’t it be great for us all to be together again?’
‘It will,’ she agreed, ‘and Grace has promised us lots of work.’ She clapped her hands in glee. ‘Oh, Agnes, I’m so happy!’ The two girls danced round the workroom together.
Grace was so thrilled with her plans she wanted to share her excitement, so she saddled up her horse and rode over to the neighbouring farm to see Giles.
He was just going into the house when he heard the sound of hooves and turned to see Grace enter the yard. ‘Good heavens, what a lovely surprise,’ he said.
Over a cup of tea, Grace told him of her plans.
‘What a perfectly splendid idea,’ he said. ‘I wish you both lots of luck.’
‘Clara will have kittens!’ she said, laughing gleefully.
‘My dear Grace, you must live your own life. Mrs Portman has had hers for goodness’ sake.’
‘Oh, Giles, you do say the right things at the right time.’
‘As a matter of fact I don’t. There are times when, believe me, diplomacy is not a word I would use. Let me know if I can be of help. Hugh would be proud of you.’
‘Now you are being diplomatic! You know as well as I do, Hugh would be furious with me. He would say I was going into trade, as I’m sure his mother will too. If I’m honest, there were times when he was far too much like his mother for comfort!’
Giles’ laughter echoed. ‘I do know what you mean. Hugh and I were close as kids and I told him he was a pompous twit one day. It came to blows.’
‘I didn’t know that! He never told me.’
‘Of course not, because I beat the hell out of him!’
When Grace rode home, she was still smiling at the thought of Hugh and Giles, as boys, thumping each other.
That evening, Daisy told Vera, her mother, the good news. But Vera only looked concerned.
‘What if it ever gets out you worked for Flo Cummings, what then?’
Daisy was furious with her. ‘You just can’t forget can you, Mum! I’m trying to forget those days. If it comes out so what? The women I deal with won’t give a hoot. All they want is to wear my clothes. I haven’t got some dreadful disease you know! They won’t pick anything up from me!’
‘Oh, Daisy, what a terrible thing to say!’ Vera was appalled.
Daisy glared at her. ‘I thought you’d be pleased for me.’
‘I am, of course I am. How could you think otherwise?’
‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it, that’s all I can say.’ And she rushed upstairs to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Vera sat in the chair by the hearth. It wasn’t that she was unhappy about Daisy’s news, good heavens the girl deserved a break after the sacrifices she had made, but these things had a habit of crawling out of the woodwork and biting you when you least expected it. She just hoped it wouldn’t happen to her daughter.
Nineteen
It was six weeks later that Gilbert. Gowns à la Mode opened in East Street, a busy thoroughfare in the town centre. Resplendent in the wide bay window were two mannequins, one wearing an exquisite evening dress with heavy beading on the bodice and a day gown of the finest silver-grey material, with its long draped skirt and fitted bodice. It was in the latest fashion and was being much admired by passers-by and prospective clients, invited to the opening.
True to her word, Grace Portman had found the premises, had them decorated, bought more sewing machines, material and all that had been on Daisy’s list. Then she’d rallied round her friends and those of her mother, and sent personal invitations to the wives of prominent businessmen in the town, to ensure that the day the new shop opened there were plenty of clients – and the local press.
Glasses of sherry were being served as the women who had gathered were inspecting the garments which had been made during the interim period, and were now hanging on dress rails inside the reception area of the shop. Daisy and her faithful band of workers had sewed for long hours to prepare for the opening. Grace Portman, wearing one of her gowns made by Daisy, had cut the ribbon across the door, declaring the establishment open. The cameras flashed and the orders poured in.
Daisy insisted that Grace de
al with the press. She didn’t want to give an interview and, as she explained to her partner, it would be better for her to remain in the background, under the circumstances. When they were established, it would be different. Grace thought she was very prudent and agreed.
Grace Portman discovered she had a flair for sales and she worked the room, selecting gowns she thought would particularly suit each individual. With her well-modulated voice and demeanour, her opinion and obvious taste, she was an important contribution and the ladies shopped enthusiastically.
Giles Bentley arrived, carrying two bouquets of flowers and was greeted warmly by Grace, who introduced him to Daisy.
‘Congratulations,’ he said and handed the flowers to them. ‘I thought this appropriate for the occasion.’
‘Oh, thanks so much, Mr Bentley,’ beamed Daisy.
‘Giles, please and you are more than welcome. How did it go?’ he asked.
‘Better than we could ever have hoped,’ Grace told him. ‘We have sold many items and have orders for many more.’
‘Well done both of you. I’m delighted for you.’ He had a sherry and took his leave. ‘I’ll be in touch, Grace. So nice to meet you, Daisy.’
Daisy nudged her friend. ‘Where have you been hiding him, might I ask?’
Grace blushed. ‘I haven’t, he’s an old friend of the family, that’s all.’
Towards the end of the day, when it was time to close, they all got together to discuss the many orders in the book.
‘I didn’t refuse anyone,’ said Daisy, ‘but we are going to be really pushed to fill the orders, and there is a waiting list.’
‘What do you suggest?’ asked Grace.
‘We need outworkers. Those women – like my mother – who can make the collars and sleeves, things like that which can then be sewn in by the girls working here.’
‘You’ll have to arrange that, Daisy,’ said Grace. ‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘I know a couple,’ said Agnes, then the other two girls came up with names of women who were good enough and would be pleased with the extra money, but who were unable to work full-time. And it was arranged that the girls got in touch with them and ask them to come for an interview with Daisy.
‘When the press print the pictures of the opening tomorrow, we’re likely to have even more clients visiting us,’ Grace remarked, ‘but never mind, if they realize they have to go on a waiting list, it’ll make them even more eager!’ She chortled with delight.
‘Oh, Grace,’ she said when they were at last alone. ‘How can I ever thank you?’
‘Oh, come along, Daisy, we’ve helped each other. It’s given me an interest which I really needed after Hugh passed away. I’d have gone mad otherwise.’
‘I think we need to get a receptionist,’ Daisy suggested. ‘I can’t keep leaving my work to take care of the clients.’
‘I’ll do it!’
Daisy looked at Grace in horror. ‘You can’t possibly do it, not a lady of your breeding. It wouldn’t be right!’
‘What rubbish! My father is a GP in the town, he’s not the lord of the manor or anything like it.’
‘Maybe so, but you are the lady of the Manor House in Brockenhurst. What on earth would your mother-in-law say?’
‘She’d probably have a fit!’ And Grace burst out laughing. ‘It would be worth doing it for that alone.’
‘Mrs Portman, you are a wicked women!’
In the edition of the local paper the following day, there was a whole page spread, with pictures of the opening of the new gown shop in East Street. There was a lovely one of Grace, cutting the ribbon with the name of the shop in full view, and the written interview with her where she expounded the talent of Daisy Gilbert, her partner – and her workforce. There were no pictures of Daisy, but the women in the background eyeing the display were obviously from the upper echelons of society and the reporter had interviewed several of them. It was a great advertisement, read by many and received by a few with different reactions.
Madam Evans, whose business was failing rapidly, was jealous. Harry the barman was delighted. Flo Cummings looked at the pictures with mixed emotions and Ken Woods was delighted that he now knew where Gloria, as he thought of her, had moved to. When he’d discovered that her workroom in Bernard Street was no longer occupied, he’d been livid.
But there was no one who was more angry at this public display than Clara Portman.
At the dinner table she shook the offending paper at her husband, Charles. ‘Have you read this?’ she demanded.
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I have.’
‘How could she take part in such a vulgar display? Bandying the family name about like that!’
He gazed across the table at his wife and said, ‘I think it’s a splendid idea myself. Grace needs an interest to help get her over the loss of Hugh.’
‘But she’s gone into trade!’ Clara was outraged.
Charles glared at her. ‘You seem to forget, my dear, that your family fortune was made originally in the slave trade!’ Throwing down his napkin, he left the table and his wife, whose face was puce with anger.
Vera had looked at the picture with motherly pride, but also with some trepidation. The women in the picture were obviously wealthy and she was afraid that Daisy’s past might come out into the open. Her daughter had already been through so much, she couldn’t help but fret that sometime in the future, just as Daisy had achieved her dream, it could all collapse about her. If it did, she doubted if Daisy would ever recover. But she kept such thoughts to herself.
Flo Cummings made a visit to the shop the next morning, pausing to look at the models in the window. There was no doubt about the talent of the girl. She opened the door.
‘Good morning,’ said Grace. ‘Can I be of assistance?’
Flo was taken aback to be greeted by such a well-bred person and recognized her as the woman in the picture, Daisy’s partner.
‘I want to place an order for a couple of gowns,’ said Flo.
‘I’m so sorry, but at the moment we are unable to take any more work, but I can put your name on the waiting list if you wish?’
This floored Flo, as she’d expected to be measured up on the spot, choose her material and arrange her first fitting. ‘That won’t do at all,’ she retorted. ‘I’m an old client of Daisy’s. I’m sure if you call her, she’ll accommodate me.’
Sensing that there was no other way to deal with the woman, Grace asked Daisy to step out of the workroom for a moment.
‘Hello Flo,’ said Daisy, ‘what can I do for you?’
‘I’m told there’s a waiting list, but as I’m an old customer I’m sure you can make an exception.’
‘I truly wish I could, Flo,’ smiled Daisy, ‘but I’ve already filled my book. There is no way at all I can fit you in. We’re up to our necks in the workroom. I’m really sorry.’
Flo’s eyes narrowed. ‘I remember once I helped you out in the past when you needed a helping hand, so can’t you do the same for me?’
Daisy stared hard into the other woman’s eyes. ‘I’ll never forget what you have done for me, Flo – in every way – but if I get a cancellation I’ll give you a call. You’ll have to forgive me but I’ve so much work I can’t stay for a chat, I’m sure you’ll understand. Business comes first.’
Grace stood by and watched the interchange with great interest. So this was Flo Cummings, the owner of the Solent Club. The woman who had been the means of leading Daisy down the slippery slope. Using the girl’s desperate situation to suit her own ends. During their chats when setting up the business plans, Daisy had confided in her every sordid detail of her life as one of Flo’s girls. This woman was wicked to have taken such an advantage of one so innocent.
Looking at her Grace asked politely, ‘What would you like to do; now you know the situation?’
‘I’ll leave it!’ snapped Flo and stormed out.
Daisy appeared when she heard the shop door close. ‘Thank goodness s
he’s gone.’
‘I thought you handled her very well,’ said Grace with a grin.
‘She’ll get fed up with waiting and I’ll never have enough time to fit her in … unless the business is slack,’ she smiled. ‘If that happens I’ll take anyone’s money.’
‘She’s a hard woman,’ Grace said, quietly.
‘I used to think she was my friend,’ Daisy admitted, ‘but I was wrong. I was worth a lot of money to her, once upon a time.’
‘Those days are gone, Daisy, and are best forgotten.’
‘I managed to bury them pretty deeply, but they are never truly gone, alas,’ said Daisy as she returned to her work.
One other person had read the local paper, but had not realized that one of the partners in this new venture was someone familiar, until he went into the Solent Club for a drink that evening.
‘Hello, Steven,’ said Harry. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages.’
Steven ordered a pint of beer and said, ‘I promised myself I’d never come in here ever again.’ He gazed around, saw the girls sitting at the far end of the bar and asked, ‘Is Gloria about?’
‘No, lad. She left some time ago.’
‘Really, why?’
‘She opened up a little workshop; our Gloria is a brilliant seamstress it seems and now she’s just opened her own business. Here, it was in the paper.’ And he picked up the edition with the opening of the shop and handed it to the young man.
‘I saw this on the ship,’ said Steven. ‘But it says that a Daisy Gilbert is the part-owner.’
‘That’s our Gloria’s real name,’ said Harry. ‘She’s doing really well so I’m told.’
Steven sat and drank his beer, thankful not to find his Gloria sitting waiting for a punter. It had been his one dread. He’d vowed not to return and had kept away for many a month, but not being able to get her out of his mind, had wandered back to the bar this evening.
