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In a NAAFI, on a training ground, dressed in a WAAF’s blues.

“Where do you think they’ll send you?” asked Alexandra.

“I assume a tailor’s shop,” Izzie said. “What about you?”

“I just hope they assign me to anything but cooking, if not for my sake then for that of those who would have to eat my food,” said Alexandra.

“It can’t be that bad,” Izzie said with a laugh.

“Our cook tried to teach me because my mother thought it’s a valuable skill every woman should know a bit of. She didn’t think she would one day become a countess when she married Daddy, you see. The only problem was, it turns out that even the family dogs wouldn’t eat my cooking, and they’ll eat anything.”

Izzie laughed. “Well, wherever you go, at least you’ll have a uniform that fits you.”

Alexandra struck a little pose. “I’ve been asked so many times how I managed to alter it so well, I’ve been singing your praises.”

“That might explain all of the girls coming to ask me to take in and let out skirts,” Izzie said. “I should probably give you a cut.”

Alexandra shook her head. “I wouldn’t dream of taking a shilling. Besides, maybe you can make enough to buy your sister out of the other half of your shop.”

Izzie smiled and took a sip of tea. “Maybe I will.”

Wouldn’t that be something?

21 January 1942

Dear Izzie,

You will be very pleased to hear that our first advertisements touting the excellent work of Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions have been placed! I have selected the Tatler, The Lady, Sketch, The Times, and several of the smaller newspapers here in London to begin with. If they are successful, I will consider expanding to Country Life to see if we can attract the horsey set. We certainly have enough tweed for it…

Now we wait!

Yours,

Sylvia

22 January 1942

Dear Mr. Manon,

My mother, Mrs. Peter Shelton, was the owner of Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions, a dress shop in Glengall Road, and was a long-standing customer of your institution. I regret to inform you that she passed away quite unexpectedly late last year, and I am currently helping my sister, Isabelle, put the shop’s affairs in order.

A number of years ago, you assisted my mother and me in opening an account at Whitmore’s. Unfortunately, due to some delinquency in the shop’s bookkeeping, I am unable to discern whether my mother continued to bank with you at the time of her death. I have not been able to recover any records related to any recent transactions and would appreciate any information you can give me.

Thank you for your assistance on this matter.

Sincerely,

Mrs. Hugo Pearsall

26 January 1942

Dear Izzie,

Since you haven’t written back to me, I considered leaving you be. But then I thought, “No. You need to help your sister understand what you’re doing and why.”

I remember when I was seventeen and eighteen, it felt as though the shop bell never stopped ringing. While I didn’t have as much to do as you and the other seamstresses, I was always running round with endless deliveries and helping our mother with inventory and invoices. Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions was always wonderfully busy.

You cannot honestly tell me that the shop feels that way now. I don’t know if it is the war or our mother’s health or simply changing fashions, but it has the feeling of a place that’s at risk of being left behind.