‘I am and I’m so pleased to meet you. Daniel has just told me you were friends with my great-aunt.’
Just behind Dorothy, there was a man putting on a coat in the hallway. He walked towards the front door and nodded at Fern and Daniel before kissing Dorothy on the cheek. ‘I have a train to catch but I’ll give you a ring in the next few days,’ he said picking up a case and walking towards a taxi that had just pulled up outside.
She nodded, then waved at him. ‘My brother,’ she shared. ‘It was quite a surprise he came to visit. Lives in London. Was out this way on business.’
Fern recognised him instantly. He was the same man who’d come into the shop and played the piano.
‘Do come in and have a cup of tea and help me eat some scones I baked this morning.’
‘We’ve just had cake,’ replied Fern, ‘but a tea would be lovely.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ announced Daniel. ‘I’ll help eat your scones.’ He grinned. ‘Dorothy makes the best scones, but don’t tell Betty I said that.’
‘Oh, you do tease me,’ replied Dorothy giving him a warm smile. ‘Now, what can I do for you two? And what do you have in there? It looks heavy.’
‘We’ve come to ask you about something a little unusual that’s happened at the shop. The mysterious arrival of a wedding dress.’
Dorothy tilted her head. ‘That sounds intriguing.’
They followed her inside. The cottage was as beautiful within as it was without, filled with an air of nostalgia and comfort. The living room was a haven of floral prints and antique furniture, with crocheted doilies placed carefully on the armrests. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with books and photo frames showcasing a lifetime of memories.
Dorothy led them to the conservatory at the back of the cottage. ‘Take a seat. I’ll be just a moment.’
It wasn’t long before she returned with a pot of tea, side plates, butter, jam and a cake tin full of scones. She poured the tea then gestured to the plates and scones. ‘Do help yourself,’ she said before looking towards the bin bag. ‘Now, what is this about a wedding dress?’
Daniel already had a scone on his plate so Fern was the one who began to explain. ‘It was left on the shop’s doorstep, wrapped in a bin bag. With it was a note that said, “Find the groom”. We’re trying to figure out who it belonged to, why they’d leave it there and why we would need to find the groom. We think the dress may date back to the sixties and Edgar suggested asking you about it, as you’ve been the seamstress on Puffin Island for many years. Perhaps it could be one of yours?’
‘Let me take a look.’
Fern carefully lifted the dress from the bag. Unfolding it, she lay it across her lap and the arm of the sofa. The moment it was fully displayed, Dorothy inhaled sharply.
‘Oh, my.’ She reached out and ran a wrinkled hand over the delicate lace. ‘This is exquisite work.’
‘Could it be one you made?’ Daniel asked.
She studied it for a moment before shaking her head. ‘No, this isn’t my work,’ she said. She looked carefully and turned the dress over, her fingers searching until they found the label stitched into the seam.
‘But I recognise the label. This was made by a seamstress in Sea’s End– Eliza Valentine. She’s a marvellous talent.’
‘Is she still in Sea’s End, do you know?’
‘No, Eliza is the same age as me and long retired, but I know her daughters and her grand-daughters followed in her footsteps and they’re currently based in London. Eliza lives there too, with her family. Eliza never made two dresses the same– each one was bespoke– and I know she kept a record of every design, so if you can get in touch with her she might be able to give you the name of the buyer.’
Fern’s mind raced. Another lead. Another connection.
Dorothy’s fingers moved over the fabric with an expert touch. ‘The quality of this… Whoever left this dress behind either didn’t know its worth or had a very specific reason for getting it into your hands.’
‘What do you mean?’ Daniel asked.
Dorothy lifted her gaze to meet his. ‘All of Eliza’s dresses are worth a small fortune. She was very talented.’
‘I valued it around two thousand pounds,’ volunteered Daniel.
‘I beg to differ,’ declared Dorothy. ‘With the quality of this fabric, the stitching and the vintage, I would triple that estimate.’
Silence settled over the room as Fern and Daniel exchanged a look. Whoever had left this dress behind wasn’t simply discarding an old relic.
‘What do you think this all means?’ asked Daniel.
