Page 14

Chapter 14

Early March 1911

Ursula was unsure about simply turning up at someone’s private residence without an appointment, but short of writing a letter in advance there seemed to be no other way of visiting the young woman who made the bags.

She was surprised to find that the street was one she had walked down many times before and yet she had never been aware that there was a business behind the shiny black front door.

It was a main door, she noted, not a flat inside a tenement stair, and as she walked up the path she saw a small card in the window.

‘Elizabeth Forrester, seamstress and leatherwork.’

She knocked on the door.

It had a less than supremely polished brass handle and she noted that the letterbox could have done with a bit of elbow grease as well.

The maid was clearly slacking.

From outside, she could hear the sound of the inner door being opened, followed by a clatter.

Presumably the keys have been dropped, she thought.

She could have sworn there was a curse hanging in the air.

A slight young woman opened the storm door.

‘Yes?’

Ursula introduced herself.

‘I am Mrs Ursula Black. Your name was provided to me by Mrs Mary Young.’ She didn’t get any further.

‘You’ve met Mary! A wonderful supporter of the cause.

Do come in.’

Ursula managed to conceal her surprise at the casual greeting, but did as she was asked and waited in the tiled vestibule as the main door was relocked behind her.

‘Just follow me.’ The young woman walked briskly along the corridor that led to the back of the flat.

The smell of a cake being baked, or perhaps it was biscuits, escaped from the kitchen.

‘Please take a seat in my workroom. I need to take an apple pie out of the oven, I won’t be a minute.

’

Clearly the maid is indisposed, thought Ursula, looking around the room.

A black Singer sewing machine, unlike any she had seen before, dominated the space in front of the window where there was most daylight.

There were no chairs, just an adjustable stool in front of the machine.

Beside it lay an instruction book with ‘Model 29’ printed on the front.

A large waist-high bench, about the size of the kitchen table at 25 Library Terrace, stood in the middle of the room, and on the opposite wall was a tall grid of shelves, at least a yard deep.

A tantalising hint of colour poked out from each square section where the end of a roll of leather or fabric protruded, and the whole edifice was arranged like a vertical rainbow with a column of scarlet and claret, followed by another of rust and autumn leaves, and then ragwort and mustard, before shading into several sections containing any green she could possibly have thought of.

Elizabeth Forrester returned from the kitchen still wearing her apron and dispensed with formalities without being given permission.

‘So, Ursula, how can I help you today?’

‘I mentioned to Mrs Young, to Mary,’ Ursula didn’t know what name to use, ‘that it will be my husband’s daughter’s thirteenth birthday in a few weeks.

I thought that perhaps it was time she had a bag of her own instead of relying on me or her sleeves to carry a handkerchief and other items. She seemed very sure that you would be able to advise me, or even sell me such an item.

’

Elizabeth seemed delighted.

She smiled broadly, reached for a large book with the word ‘ORDERS’ stamped on the cover, and opened a cupboard in the dresser behind her.

‘Oh yes. I am sure I can help with that. How exciting, a new bag.’

She pulled out a stack of boxes from inside the cupboard.

‘Let me show you a few of these; they are waiting to be collected. Please have a look and see if there is anything you like.’

Ursula began to remove the lids from the boxes, one at a time.

The bags were not the usual smooth leather, as she had expected, but pliable suede, and although this would make them less hardwearing, she realised immediately that the softer material was much more suitable for Ann.

There were practical everyday bags in natural taupe and brown and black, which were useful enough but rather sombre.

The colours of the evening bags were brighter.

Strawberry pink and peacock blue and even a particularly bright yellow.

She examined them inside and out.

It was important to inspect the workmanship, to make sure this was a proper business and not just some young woman playing while she waited for a husband.

Ursula stopped herself.

It was an uncharitable attitude to have.

She blushed and bent her head.

Elizabeth moved a fearsome pair of cutting shears aside and leaned forward on the table, resting on her elbows.

‘Should I assume this is an item that will be used a lot, rather than just being brought out for special occasions?’

Ursula nodded.

‘Sometimes things which are beautiful are saved for best, and I’m guilty of that myself, but I want this to be a bag which is robust enough that it can be used without any worry, while at the same time it needs to be pretty.

’

‘What about something like this?’ Elizabeth went up on her toes and reached to the back of the cupboard for another box.

She took off the lid and pushed it across the table to Ursula.

‘It’s a new design. Some of my customers request these colours in particular.

’

The bag was a vibrant violet, with two tassels, one on each side, and a braided silk strap.

It was secured with a gold-coloured clip fastening.

The soft suede pouch was lined with pale green silk, and there was a further pocket inside, in cream.

‘This is perfect. Just the right size, and not too heavy.’

‘I’m afraid it’s the only one I have.

The customer is coming to collect it tomorrow, but I could make you another one just like it.

It would take me about two weeks.

Would that give us enough time before this momentous birthday?

’

‘It would.’ Ursula stroked the suede and turned around to look at the multicoloured grid behind her.

‘I wonder if you might make it in a different colour?’

‘As long as I have it in stock.’

‘Ann has the most beautiful green eyes. Could you suggest something which would complement them?’

Elizabeth walked over to the grid and selected three rolls of supple suede.

She set them out on the bench, unrolling each one in turn.

‘Like this? I’m expecting a new delivery of the braided silk for the straps next week.

’

‘In that case I’ll trust your judgement.

Any one of these would be delightful.

’

‘And for the lining?’

‘I’m happy to have whatever you think is most appropriate.

’

Elizabeth smiled.

‘Of course. Now, I am running a very small enterprise here, so I ask for a deposit of twenty-five per cent to cover the cost of the materials. It amounts to half a crown and the total will be ten shillings.’

A young woman who knows her mind, thought Ursula, I rather like that.

She took her purse from her bag and opened it.

‘Two weeks?’

‘Two weeks. You may collect it from here. I do have some of my designs for sale in a shop in Stockbridge but I prefer to keep these particular bags here in my workshop. No point in inviting comment unnecessarily.’

Ursula handed over the half-crown, realising as she did so that when the full cost of the bag was paid, it would amount to more than a week’s wage for Isobel.

‘Thank you.’ Elizabeth Forrester slipped the coin into a deep pocket in her skirt.

‘As a rule, I don’t send letters out to advise that an item is ready.

It can cause unwanted questions for some of my customers.

Shall we just say two weeks from today?

Noon?’

‘Yes, that would be ideal. My step-daughter has become very inquisitive about the letters which arrive. She thinks that every envelope contains a secret birthday gift.’ As she walked back to the front door, Ursula wished, not for the first time, that her own dresses had pockets.

‘I don’t suppose .?.

.’

‘Mmmm?’

‘It’s not important.

I will ask you about another matter when I collect the bag.

Good afternoon to you.

’ She stepped out onto the path and behind her Elizabeth Forrester started to close the door.

‘My apologies for shutting you out so quickly but it’s a cold day and the heat escapes so fast.’

And with that Ursula found herself outside the flat and heard the key turned in the lock with almost unseemly haste.

She pulled on her gloves and set off for home.

Things are changing, she thought.

They are changing all around me and I’m not sure I can keep up with it all.