At last she looked up with a smile of satisfaction. ‘Ouf! I’m in the clear. Right, I think we’re ready to take this chap on. Two things we’ll need: that bunch of keys I left over there on the draining board and a pair of scissors. Oh, and let’s not forget the pumpkin! Not sure whether you’re going to the ball or the dogs, love, but your auntie will get you there in style!’
Chapter Fifteen
Phyl hunted about in the kitchen and, suitably equipped, returned to Lily. ‘We’ll put the shop lights out now. But we’re not going far, just next door. I have something special to show you. Come on.’
Lily looked up at the façade of the shop adjoining. It had twice the frontage of the hat shop and was painted in green and gold with a distinctive curlicued script over the window announcing Madame Cécile. Modes. London and Paris.
‘I say, Phyl, is this all right, what you’re doing? Not breaking exactly as you have the keys, but definitely entering premises without the owner’s permission. Whatever’s Madame Cécile going to say?’
‘ Mais Madame Cécile, c’est moi! ’ said Phyl surprisingly. ‘The new Madame, anyway. Jacob bought the old one out and installed me in a ready-made business. I liked the name so I thought — might as well keep it. I don’t speak French and that’s a bit of a problem. Well, not much, as the clients don’t have the foggiest either. I’ve employed a French maid — a real one — and she’s teaching me ten useful phrases every day. I’ve been keeping this very quiet for one reason and another. And I’d rather you didn’t mention it to your parents, Lil. Come in. Let me put the lights on. It’s getting a bit dark now — we’ll be having a thunderstorm next. I’ll get Albert to drive you back to your digs. I’ve got the Buick out back.’
Lily entered a space smelling lightly of freshly laid carpet and expensive perfume and looked about her in awe. ‘Crikey, Phyl! I’ve never been in such a posh shop. Ankle deep in Axminster — shall I take my boots off?’ She went to run a hand over the gleaming mahogany surface of the counter, bounced on the tapestried upholstery of a Louis XVI chair and stroked the silken drapery adorning a mannequin. ‘Even your wax doll is too jolly stuck-up to notice me.’ And, suddenly concerned: ‘I say — does Jacob know what he’s doing, taking this on? It must be a very expensive place to maintain. Best part of London … a hundred square yards of showroom and offices to the rear, no doubt.’
‘Fitted out by Heals in the Tottenham Court Road,’ added Phyl with satisfaction. ‘It works well with my hat shop. I send the dress clients next door and the hat clients round here. And you needn’t worry about Jacob. We share the revenues and believe me — he’s doing all right!’
‘I forgot to ask — how’s his wife?’
‘Usual. Hanging on to life by her fingertips. Enjoying her bad health.’ That was all Phyl would say about her protector’s lawful wife. It was all she ever said before changing the subject. ‘But look around, Lily — are you seeing the possibilities?’