The Fairbairn Girls (22 page)

Mrs Sutherland wagged a finger. ‘The butcher was only saying to me yesterday that he’s never been so quiet.’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Laura felt angry with herself for not realizing that January was always a bleak month when even her own family was not in the mood to indulge in new clothes because there was little socializing until Easter. How had she gauged it so wrong? With hindsight she now knew she shouldn’t have taken her new premises until late February or early March.

As she walked home she decided to economize on food for the time being, and rather than ask anyone in her family for money because she had her pride, she might be forced to sell one of the Persian rugs to pay next month’s rent. That night she slept badly and awoke at dawn, deciding she might as well give Helen the day off because there was nothing for her to do.

Just before eight o’clock Helen came rushing into the flat, flushed and breathless as if she’d been running. ‘Have you heard the news?’ she gasped, clutching
Scotsman
newspaper.

‘Is the Boer War over?’ Laura asked instantly.

Helen looked at her blankly. ‘No,’ she replied, puzzled. ‘The old Queen has gone and died! Look!’

Laura skimmed the headlines in disbelief.
Queen Victoria has died at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight
, she read in heavy lettering.

For a moment she found it hard to believe. The Queen had reigned for sixty-three years and her subjects had become so accustomed to her being on the throne that it seemed impossible to believe she was no longer there – a familiar figure in her widow’s weeds, which she’d worn ever since her beloved husband had died.

Laura suddenly threw down the newspaper. ‘I’ve got to go out,’ she said urgently as she struggled into her long tweed coat. Then she jammed a fox fur hat on her head, grabbed her purse and gloves and spoke briefly. ‘Stay here until I get back, Helen. If anyone calls invite them in and take down their name, address and their order. Tell them I’ll get back to them later. Or tomorrow morning,’ she added. A moment later she was gone and her bewildered assistant heard her running down the front steps and along the street.

It was late in the afternoon when an exhausted but triumphant Laura returned, casting off her hat and coat and flinging herself into a chair.

‘Whatever have you been up to?’ Helen asked. ‘I was getting ever so worried. No one has called but about nine or ten letters have come for you. Put through the letter box, they were. By hand,’ she added, obviously impressed.

Laura gave a deep sigh of satisfaction. ‘First, I went to see my bank manager,’ she began, ‘and when I told him what I wanted to do he agreed to lend me quite a lot of money.’

Helen made no comment. She didn’t think it was her place to ask this nice employer, a real lady who belonged to ever such a grand family, what she needed the money for.

‘Then,’ Laura continued, enjoying drawing out the suspense, ‘I got a cab and went to the wholesale company, from whom I buy all the fabrics.’

‘But they’re near Glasgow,’ Helen exclaimed, as if they were on the other side of the world.

Laura nodded. ‘Do you know what I bought, Helen?’

The girl shook her head, her eyes wide.

Laura leaned forward and her eyes blazed with excitement in her flushed face. ‘I bought all the black fabric they had in stock.’ She started ticking on her fingers. ‘In tweed, soft wool, alpaca, velvet, silk, chiffon, lace, taffeta and crepe de Chine; hundreds of yards of fabric to make up for our clients, who are all going to be wearing full mourning for the next twelve months.’

Helen’s jaw dropped. ‘Because the Queen died?’

Laura leaned back, savouring the moment. ‘Yes, because the Queen died. I also placed orders for grey and purple fabric for the following year, which is what many of our elderly clients will move on to for a while. You do know what this means, Helen, don’t you?’

‘We’ll be busy,’ the girl replied solemnly.

Laura burst out laughing. ‘We’ll be more than busy. We’ve cornered the market. None of the other dressmakers in Scotland will be able to obtain quantities of black fabric for months to come because I’ve snapped it all up! We are going to dress all the ladies of Edinburgh with everything they will need for the coming year. Coats, cloaks, day and evening dresses, skirts and blouses . . .’ She paused and looked around the workroom. ‘I wish I’d taken a bigger place now. We’re going to need extra help, Helen.’

‘Where will you store all the fabric?’

‘I’ve already been to see Mrs Sutherland and she’s very kindly allowing me to rent a big room in her basement. The wholesalers are going to be delivering the material next Wednesday.’

‘You have organized everything,’ Helen said with admiration.

‘Not quite everything.’ Laura looked thoughtful. ‘We need to get in a good stock of nice black buttons, including ones made of jet, and also poppers, hooks and eyes and a thousand reels of black thread. I think I should also buy a second sewing machine.’

‘What about the people who can’t afford to go into mourning?’

‘They always wear black armbands out of respect.’ Laura paused, her mind still working feverishly. ‘We’ll offer to make small armbands for the children of our clients,’ she continued, ‘because they won’t have to wear black clothes unless they’re eighteen.’

After Helen had gone home, with instructions to help find two more experienced seamstresses, Laura made herself a cup of tea and then sat at her desk making some rough calculations. She’d borrowed a large sum of money from the bank and the manager, who knew her family well, had been quite happy for her to have the loan because her business plan was impressively well thought out and planned, but now she had to work out for herself the exact cost of materials, extra staff, a new machine and everything else she’d need for this sudden expansion, coupled with how much she’d need to earn to pay back the loan and hopefully show a profit by the end of the year.

Lord Rothbury had often talked about businesses that had expanded too quickly and eventually led to a financial loss, and this was at the back of Laura’s mind now as she tried to forecast exactly how much business she was hoping to acquire during the next twelve months. Had she been stupidly impulsive today? Wouldn’t it have been more sensible if she’d asked for someone else’s advice? Andrew was a successful businessman as his father had been before him, and now she wondered if she shouldn’t have consulted him first? It was too late now. Her euphoria of earlier had been replaced by anxious tiredness as her mind revolved around whether she should have gone ahead without thinking it through or not?

By three o’clock in the morning she comforted herself with the belief that by the time she’d taken advice from some experienced source another dressmaker would have gone along and bought every length of black material available from the wholesalers, and she’d be sitting here now kicking herself for having lost such a wonderful opportunity.

At present the reality of the situation was that she was up to her neck in debt. Now it was a case of sink or swim.

As dawn stole over the sleeping city and Edinburgh Castle perched high above gleamed in the first pink rays of the sun, Laura bathed and then put on the black gown she’d made for her father’s funeral. She was facing the biggest challenge she’d ever had and there was no going back now.

This was a turning point in her life. If she got through this she could get through anything.

‘Laura, you’ve got so thin!’ Diana exclaimed, hugging her sister affectionately. ‘Are you all right?’

Laura smiled merrily. ‘I’ve never been better,’ she laughed. ‘Rushed off my feet but everything is going so well. Even better than I expected.’

‘I can’t wait to hear all about it! Let’s order tea and then we can talk.’

They had arranged to meet in a restaurant in Princes Street because Diana had come down to Edinburgh for the day to do some shopping.

‘So tell me what’s happening? I haven’t seen you since Christmas.’

‘When the Queen died in January it became a mad house. We’re partly working at my flat and partly at Mrs Sutherland’s house which luckily is just around the corner. Imagine this – I’ve had to rent a room from her just to store the bales of black fabric I ordered. Actually there isn’t much of it left. I’ve got Helen and two other seamstresses and we’re all working night and day.’

‘You must be exhausted,’ Diana sympathized.

‘Actually I’m quite energized. I acquired a lot of new clients and I’m hoping they’ll stay with me when they want new clothes next year,’ Laura said hopefully.

‘I’m sure they will. I for one will be back by next February. I can’t wait to get out of mourning. I fancy having dresses in red and pink and maybe primrose yellow.’

‘I can’t wait to get back to working with bright colours for a change,’ Laura agreed. ‘Tell me, what news of Lizzie?’

Diana grinned. ‘She’s had a third daughter.’

‘She was hoping for a boy this time.’

Diana had more news to tell. ‘Beattie is also expecting!’

‘Already? What a family we are for having babies! Don’t tell me you’re expecting, too?’

Diana shook her head firmly. ‘Nicolas and Louise are enough for me and as Robert has got his heir he’s happy.’ She leaned forward and whispered confidentially. ‘I don’t want to end up like poor Mama with eleven children. Have you seen how her body has been ravaged by all those pregnancies?’ She gave a little shudder. ‘I’d be afraid that it would put Robert off . . . you know.’

Laura nodded but didn’t reply. As a family they never talked about such private matters. ‘So when is Beattie’s baby arriving?’ she asked instead.

‘In October. Goodness, Mama is going to have so many grandchildren by the time we’re all married, isn’t she?’

‘Probably, except that Georgie and I might not get married,’ Laura pointed out.

‘Goodness! You haven’t heard?’ Diana asked in surprise.

‘Heard what?’

‘Georgie’s met a man and he’s mad about her.’

Laura’s eyes widened. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before? What’s he like? Have you met him?’

‘No, we haven’t met him but Lizzie has told us all about him and there is a problem.’

Laura looked cynical. ‘There’s always a problem with Georgie. What is it this time? Is he already married?’

‘No, he’s not married,’ Diana declared. ‘You know what a terrible snob Georgie is? How she even looks down on Andrew as being
nouveau riche
? Remember how she said you might let down the family by becoming a dressmaker?’

‘I do indeed!’

‘Well, this man, a bachelor of thirty-three whose name is Shane O’Mally, comes from a working-class background and owns several pubs in Scotland and Northumberland. He’s very successful and
very
rich.’ Diana started to giggle. ‘Georgie is mad about him, too, but she’s torn between the thought of marrying for love but to someone lower class or not getting married at all! Can you imagine how tormented she is?’

Laura nodded wistfully. Georgie’s lack of self-esteem had always made her feel that her only asset was belonging to a titled family and so to marry someone who wasn’t listed in the peerage was unthinkable.

Diana guessed what she was thinking. ‘Poor Georgie! I hope she doesn’t make him feel inferior? Frankly I’d love her to marry someone who seems to be devoted to her. It’s just what she needs.’

‘What about Mama? What does she say?’

‘I think she’s rather relieved that Georgie has found someone. This is the first time she’s had a man who has shown the slightest interest in her and apparently he’s very nice and very kind. He’s not in the least interested in her having a title and he’s not impressed by Lochlee at all, so he’s not after Georgie in order to better himself.’

‘He sounds perfect for her,’ Laura exclaimed. ‘She’ll be far more comfortable with someone like that than if she married someone like Robert or Humphrey.’

‘Yes. It’s a pity she has such an inferiority complex. You’ll soon be getting an order to make another wedding dress!’

‘You have come to town with a bag full of surprises,’ Laura remarked. ‘By comparison my news is desperately boring. Mrs So-and-so has ordered a black lace dinner dress and Lady Such-and-such wants a black taffeta cloak for the summer; not exactly riveting gossip!’ She began gathering up her gloves and handbag. ‘I must be getting back to work.’

‘Can’t you come shopping with me?’ Diana asked in disappointment.

‘I wish I could but I’ve got a client coming at five o’clock to collect some new outfits I’ve made for her.’ Her mouth tightened. ‘I’ve never known a woman who spent so much on herself. Thank goodness her husband seems to be very rich.’

‘She sounds like the new Queen, Alexandra. Who is she?’

‘Mrs Leighton-Harvey.’

Diana frowned. ‘I think I’ve heard of her. Where does she live?’

‘In Lasswade. She and her husband came to your wedding. I believe they’re friends of Robert’s parents.’ Laura’s expression had become grim and she spoke tightly.

‘I remember being introduced to them. She’s quite a pretty woman, isn’t she?’

‘Yes, and extremely vain and stupid.’

Diana looked surprised and amused. ‘I can see you don’t like her, but she must be a good customer? Isn’t that what you want?’

‘Of course it is,’ Laura agreed, pulling herself together. ‘I’m just a bit tired and I’ve still got hours of work ahead of me tonight.’

‘Darling, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you come and stay with us for a couple of days at the end of the week? You need a rest. Do say you’ll come?’

Laura thought about the sheer luxury of staying at Cranley Court and how she’d wake up in an enormous bed in the morning and have a maid bring her breakfast on a tray. What heaven it would be to relax on the terrace and instead of the constant clatter of the sewing machines the only sound would be the drowsy hum of the honey bees as they hovered over the lavender beds. The food was always exquisite too, and Diana and Robert were generous and undemanding hosts. ‘I’d love to,’ she said without hesitation. ‘I should stay in town and work but I can’t think of anything nicer than going to stay with you.’

Diana beamed. ‘Excellent. Then that’s settled. We’ve no other visitors so we can do exactly as we like. If the weather is fine we might have a picnic luncheon on Saturday in the folly. You’ll arrive on Friday afternoon, won’t you? And stay until Monday?’