Page 129 of The Wedding Dress Repair Shop
27 June
Today, several letters arrived all at once, having clearly been delayed somewhere along the road, for first Rafe opened and read aloud to us the dreadful news that Guy was dead, only to immediately learn from the next missive that he was alive, although badly injured.
He has been taken into a private house in Bruges, together with some other wounded officers, including his friend Captain Wentworth, with whom, once they are recovered enough, he will eventually be conveyed home by easy stages, with a doctor in attendance.
I felt so dazed with the shock of first hearing that Guy was dead, only to learn moments later that he was alive, but grievously wounded, that I had to beg Rafe to read the last letter again.
Guy has sustained an injury to one side of his head and face but, most terrible of all, has lost his left arm. As if this were not enough, in falling from his horse he broke the leg that was only recently mended.
Rafe looked through the rest of his letters to see if there was anything further and, in doing so, let drop one addressed to me in Letty’s familiar hand.
I pounced upon it and read it later in my own chamber, and it seemed that she had not received my recent letters and wondered at my silence!
Letters do go astray, but that several should do so is very odd.
40
A Bit of Bling
I woke on Sunday feeling tired after my hectic week and just lay there for a while, thinking about what we’d already achieved in the museum – and everything that still needed to be done.
I’d managed to work through the dress collection amazingly fast, but still had two to go, not to mention several still to put on display, which was time consuming.
The most urgent task for the next couple of days was blinging up the charity shop dress, which I’d labelled as Dress 14. The work had to be completed before the TV crew returned yet again on Wednesday.
It didn’t give me much time and I thought I’d better get on with it the next day.
Today, though, I wanted to draw up the patterns for the marionettes’ costumes, which I could base on some I’d found in Hetty’s box. Once that was done and the pieces cut out, I could sew them up at my leisure.
The puppets’ faces were boldly painted, so I thought I’d choose strong contrasting colours for their clothes.
Adapting the patterns to the right style of the period tooklittle time, so after that I sorted through my large collection of fabric oddments.
All the while, I was strangely conscious of the two marionettes hanging behind me, even if their faces were now turned to the wall, so before I cut the material out, I moved them into the stockroom.
I think I may have been watching the wrong kind of films …
*
Pearl had invited me and Thom for Sunday lunch, because she said Simon was hankering after traditional roast beef and Yorkshire pudding like his mother used to make, though she’d warned him the Yorkshire puddings would be frozen ones, since hers always came out thin and hard, so it wasn’t worth the effort of making them.
But, frozen or not, they were perfect, and we had a lovely meal, sitting at the table overlooking the small paved back yard, full of pots and tubs, the space she said was once the home of the outside loo, at a time when not having to share one with your neighbours was a luxury!
The four of us seemed to share a lot of meals. Perhaps that was a bonding process and why I so quickly became friends with Pearl and Simon. Having close friends other than Thom in my life was a novelty.
After lunch, Simon gave me a small box full of white tissue paper, in which was nestled the gold silk hairband he’d made for me. It was very slim and delicate, with just a hint of feathers, flowers and beading embellishing one side. It was barely visible among all my copper curls, so I didn’t feel it would look over the top on opening day.
Simon seemed pleased I was so delighted with it and said hehadn’t forgotten he’d volunteered to make a hat for Maria Marten too. When we left, he walked back to the workshop with me to collect some material I thought would be perfect for it.
‘I’ll make it straight away. It’ll be a nice change from fascinators: I’ve had yet another big order,’ he said gloomily. ‘The only good thing about those is they take no time to make and you can charge a lot!’
‘I expect they’re your bread and butter, so you have to make them.’
‘True, although I’m already designing hats for next year’s weddings and race meetings, which is a lot more fun!’
*
I suspected we’d all really have preferred to spend the afternoon in a coma of repletion after our lovely lunch, but instead we dutifully gathered at Pelican House for another attic clearing session.
