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“Izzie, what is really the matter?” Alexandra asked in a low voice, touching Izzie’s arm.

It was the calm kindness in her friend’s tone that brought all of those held-back tears spilling down her face.

“They aren’t good enough,” said Izzie, a sob escaping her lips.

“That’s not true,” said Sylvia.

Izzie shook her head emphatically. “Mum said they were not good enough for our customers, and they aren’t. They were just a silly thing I did.”

“I’m telling you that they are just what we need. It was a godsend finding them,” said Sylvia.

Izzie wanted to curl up under the cutting table and hide from everyone. Instead, she wrapped her arms around herself. “No,” she said firmly. “No one wants to buy clothes like that.”

“I want to buy clothes like this,” said Sylvia.

“What good does that do us when we all know that you would never deign to have your clothes made at a place like Mrs. Shelton’s?” Izzie lashed out.

It gratified her to see Sylvia rear back. “That’s not true.”

“What are you wearing right now? What is that?” she demanded. “Hartnell? Hardy Amies? Or perhaps it’s Jacqmar? When was the last time that you went to a place like Mrs. Shelton’s to have your clothes made? You didn’t even let Mum make your wedding dress. Your own mother, who was a dressmaker.” When her sister didn’t answer, Izzie continued, “Don’t tell me what is best for this business when you wouldn’t even condescend to spend your money and your clothing coupons here.”

Her breath came fast as she braced herself for Sylvia’s response. A part of her wanted her sister to rise to the bait and finally tell her what she really thought of Mrs. Shelton’s Fashions. At least then it would all be out in the open.

Instead, Sylvia simply said, “I’m sorry, Izzie.”

She scoffed and dashed away the last of her tears. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m sorry for many things. I’ve made so many mistakes in my life—more than you can ever guess,” Sylvia said. “I would be happy to explain anything to you that you like, and I will offer up every apology that I have.”

Izzie shook her head. “You’re years too late.”

Sylvia folded her hands in front of her and looked down. “I understand.”

Izzie looked around, taking in the familiar sewing machines, the fabric, pins, shears. She saw the wan look on Miss Reid’s face, Alexandra’s clear worry, and Sylvia’s reticence.

“As soon as I’m demobbed, I want you out of this building,” said Izzie. “We will make whatever arrangement necessary to complete the sale. Willie will handle all of the paperwork. In the meantime, I would ask you to keep your letters to me focused on the business of the shop.

“Alexandra and my balloon unit will be stationed at RAF Horsham Saint Faith in Norfolk. I will come up to London as often as I am granted leave. You do not need to be here when I arrive. Miss Reid can give me any updates in person that are necessary.”

She leaned over the table to begin gathering up her loose sketches and tucked them into the cover of their book. Then she marched into Mum’s now-clean office and stuffed the sketchbook back on the bookshelf where it belonged.

“Isabelle Shelton, you are acting like a child,” said Miss Reid as Izzie emerged into the workroom again.

“You wouldn’t have dared speak to my mother that way, Miss Reid,” Izzie warned.

“Perhaps I should have,” fired back the seamstress.

“Don’t test my patience, Miss Reid. You will not like it.”

Miss Reid planted her hands on her hips. “Then fire me.”

Izzie hesitated. She couldn’t fire Miss Reid. Not if she wanted the shop to survive the war.

“I held my tongue for too long with your mother because she took me in and gave me a job when no one else would, but I won’t make that same mistake with you,” said Miss Reid. “If you really want to be the owner of this shop, you must see that the changes Mrs. Pearsall has made are necessary. If you could put aside your own bloody-mindedness, you would realize that she’s trying to save this place, not run it into the ground.”

“You are welcome, from here on out, to keep your opinions to yourself, Miss Reid,” Izzie said. “Come along, Alexandra. We’re leaving.”

“Izzie, maybe we should talk about this,” said Alexandra quietly as Izzie led her down the corridor to the front of the shop.