‘Well, we’re about to find out,’ said Darcie, her thumbs poised to flick the catches. ‘You ready?’
Chloe stood back. ‘Quick then.’
Darcie released the locks and lifted the lid. With a degree of care, she took a breath. ‘It’s OK. No stinky PE kits here,’ she announced. ‘Just a bit musty, that’s all.’ There was a hardback A4-sized book on top of what looked like a large sheet of brown paper. Darcie picked up the book and opened it to the first page.
She looked in amazement at the artwork before her. It was a sketch of a woman in a 1940s-style evening gown and notes written alongside, indicating the colour and the fabric. She turned the page and another equally beautiful sketch greeted her.
‘Oh, wow!’ exclaimed Chloe, peering closer. ‘It’s like an art project.’
Darcie continued turning the pages. Each design was unique and, with the exception of one page where the designs looked less proficient, they all appeared to be drawn by the same hand and all in the 1940s style. ‘I don’t think it’s an art project,’ she said at last. ‘I think this is an actual designer’s book. A fashion designer.’
‘What’s in the case under that paper?’ asked Lena.
Darcie put the book to one side for a moment. Her hands trembled as she rested them on top of the paper. ‘I don’t know what I’ve found, but I have goosebumps and a funny butterfly sensation in my stomach.’
‘Just take the paper off and let us look,’ urged Chloe, the excitement clear in her voice. ‘If you don’t, then I will.’
Darcie took a deep breath and then removed the paper. There was some neatly folded blue satin fabric.
Darcie lifted it out and carefully unfolded the material, before holding it up. It was a dark blue satin, figure-hugging dress, cut on the bias with a deep cowl back. It oozed a sophisticated Hollywood glamour. ‘This is beautiful,’ she said, admiring the dress.
Lena was already flicking through the pages. ‘There,’ she declared triumphantly. ‘There’s the blue evening dress. It’s tiny though. Whoever this was for must have been very small. I mean, look at that waist. I’m sure I couldn’t even get that around my leg, let alone my body.’
Darcie laid the dress out on top of the suitcase. ‘To think no one has seen or touched this dress in all these years. It’s at least forty years, but maybe even longer.’
‘Are the designs signed by anyone?’ asked Lena. ‘What’s that squiggle in the bottom right-hand corner?’
‘It’s on all the pages,’ said Chloe. ‘I can’t make out what it says, though. It doesn’t look like a signature, more like a mark of some kind, but it’s the same on every page, so it must be the same person.’
Darcie inspected the mark. ‘It’s hard to say; it’s like a figure of eight joined into a number four, but all in one movement. Whoever designed these certainly had an eye for detail and fashion,’ said Darcie after studying the page for a few moments. She looked back at the garment. ‘And the dress hasn’t been thrown together, either. It’s a very professional job. I just don’t understand why there isn’t a label, though.’
‘I’d say there’s a lot of love gone into this piece,’ remarked Lena.
‘I’ll do some research tonight,’ said Darcie. ‘Maybe I can find something online that might give me a clue to who the designer is.’
‘They’re probably English,’ said Chloe. ‘And possibly local to the south of England. I’m not sure how they would have ended up in a left-luggage locker in a little station in West Sussex otherwise.’
‘It’s all very intriguing,’ said Lena. ‘Who would leave something so wonderful in a locker and forget all about it?’
‘Unless they meant to come back for it and for some reason couldn’t,’ said Darcie. ‘Maybe something happened to them, and no one knew it was even there. I’d be mortified if I lost something like this.’ She gazed at the dress and sketchbook. She had a deep sense of wanting to find out who these had once belonged to. She wanted to know the story behind the garment and the design book. It felt significant, and yet she did not know why.
Chapter 3
Nathalie
‘What do you mean, he left last night?’ demanded Maman from across the breakfast table.
‘What I said: he left to join the Resistance last night,’ I repeated. I hated the fact Maman was so angry with me, but I had known she would be and I was prepared. I could also tell that she was upset. The anger was coming from a place of fear. ‘He was determined to go, and by leaving in the night, he didn’t have to face either of you. He didn’t want his parting words to be cross ones.’
Papa put down his coffee cup. So far he had said nothing as Maman had questioned me about where Edgar was, having found his bedroom empty that morning. Now he spoke. ‘It sounds like Edgar had this planned for some time.’
‘He did,’ I replied.
‘And why didn’t you tell us before?’ It was Maman again.
‘Come now, Therese, we can’t blame Nathalie for this,’ said Papa. ‘It was Edgar’s decision and his alone. I doubt very much that Nathalie would have been able to talk him out of it.’
‘No, but if she’d told us, then we could have made him see sense.’ Maman dabbed her face with the edge of her apron. ‘We could have forbidden him to go.’
