Читать книгу Secrets of Cavendon: A gripping historical saga full of intrigue and drama - Barbara Taylor Bradford - Страница 12

The four women sat together in the gazebo in Cavendon Park. It was a warm morning, but the position of the gazebo near a shady old oak tree and its open walls made it a cool and pleasant spot for their meeting.

It was Friday, the first day of July, and Cecily Swann Ingham had named it D-Day in her mind. She was going to set about finding a way forward for her troubled business and she knew she had a hard fight on her hands. Nonetheless, she understood she had to win. She had no other choice. Failure would be a catastrophe in many different ways.

As she glanced at the three women she smiled inwardly. They were of various ages, well-dressed women, whom some might dismiss as being normal, ordinary, and probably not particularly interesting. She knew differently.

Each one of them, like her, was full of ideas and ambitions. They had nerves of steel and an iron will. They were her mainstay. With them at her side she knew she couldn’t lose. They made the best team. A winning team.

Her eyes flicked to Aunt Charlotte, born a Swann, an Ingham by marriage. Her father’s aunt, Charlotte had lent Cecily the money to start up by herself all those years ago.

Aunt Dottie, also a Swann, was now sixty-six, but like Charlotte she looked much younger and was in great health. Married to a Scotland Yard detective, she’d been Cecily’s advisor and helper since the very first day they had opened their little shop.

Then there was Greta Chalmers, her personal assistant, with whom she had bonded the first day they had met, when Greta had been a young widow. Greta, now forty-two, had worked by her side for many years and they had never been out of step. They were always on the same wavelength, had the same goals, and similar attitudes about life. Taking a deep breath, Cecily beamed her brightest smile, and then glanced at Dottie and Greta. ‘Thanks for coming up last night, and for listening to me gabbing on ad infinitum.’ She turned to the Dowager Countess sitting next to her, and added, ‘And I’m glad you insisted on being here, Aunt Charlotte. After all, without you, there might not have been a business called Cecily Swann Couture.’

‘Oh yes, there would!’ Charlotte shot back encouragingly. ‘You would have eventually done it on your own, Ceci dear. I just helped to make it all happen a little bit quicker.’

‘I’m jumping right into the deep end,’ Cecily announced. ‘We all know Cecily Swann Couture is in real trouble, and could go down at any moment. I have bad debts, but I don’t want to declare bankruptcy. I want to make a lot of good moves very quickly, and they will have to be drastic if I’m going to pull out of this mess.’

‘We’re here to help you,’ Aunt Dottie assured her. ‘And as you suggested last night, we must speak the truth to you, no holds barred. I have certain ideas, and so does Greta, and what we do must be drastic. There’s no other way.’

‘The first thing you have to do is get rid of the two factories in Leeds,’ Greta said, leaning forward slightly, her eyes focused on Cecily. ‘One is empty, and the other we don’t need. Because the ready-to-wear line is not selling.’

‘I agree,’ Cecily instantly replied. ‘I’m going to speak to Emma Harte on Monday. She will be at Pennistone Royal. I told her I needed her to help me find a buyer for the Leeds factories.’

‘Putting two linked factories on the market together is essential, in my opinion,’ Aunt Dottie volunteered. ‘Ever since the end of the war, when we stopped making military uniforms for the troops, the big factory has been a financial burden. Renting it out from time to time hasn’t filled our coffers, and it has to go. Without ready-mades we don’t need the other.’

Cecily nodded her agreement, and looking over at Greta she asked, ‘Why do you think the ready-to-wear line doesn’t sell any more?’

‘At first I was as baffled as you,’ Greta replied. ‘When I spoke to my sister about it, Elise said she thought it was staid. The clothes were well made, but a bit out of date, in her opinion. They worked in the Thirties, and even the war years, with all the problems of rationing, but let’s face it, 1950 is only six months away. We have a different world now, and a different market. Women’s lives have changed.’

Aunt Charlotte, who had been listening attentively, now interjected, ‘And I think you must adjust the name of the couture clothes, Cecily. The line should be called Cecily Swann, or perhaps better still simply “Swann”. Like Chanel in France. Or Hartnell here in England. He’s dropped Norman. There’s also Hardy Amies, another competitor of yours, who is mostly using only his last name.’

When there was silence, Aunt Charlotte asked, ‘Well, what’s the verdict?’ She glanced at her companions, frowning.

‘Yes!’ Cecily exclaimed. ‘The word couture puts people off, I think, because it spells MONEY in capital letters. It will be couture, of course, but we don’t have to announce it. What do you think, Greta? Aunt Dottie?’

‘I’m all for it,’ Greta answered.

‘As am I,’ Aunt Dottie concurred.

‘So we sell the two factories, because they’re not needed, since we are dropping the ready-to-wear line. That’s the first step. Change our name to Swann. I prefer it to Cecily Swann. And then I concentrate on the couture.’ Cecily’s eyes swept over them. ‘What else should we do?’

‘Lower our overheads. Dramatically.’ Dottie stared hard at Cecily, and went on in a brisk voice. ‘Close the smaller shop. Keep the original one, of course. It’s brand recognition, and it’s become … well, sort of an institution. And we have to get rid of the offices. Find a smaller space, and let some of the staff go.’

Cecily took a piece of paper out of her pocket, and glanced at it, then grimaced. ‘Getting rid of the offices and reducing the number of staff is at the top of my list. It seems we’re thinking along the same lines.’

‘Just as we should be,’ Greta said. ‘After all, we’ve been working together for years now, usually very successfully. But, like so many other businesses, we got into trouble after the end of the war. The public was not ready to splurge on clothes. And speaking of that, Cecily, I think after we leave on Sunday, you should start to design a new couture line. Since you now have to live up here most of the time, it’s an ideal place to be inspired, don’t you think?’

Cecily stared at her. ‘There’s a hint there. Isn’t that so? Do you and Elise think the couture line is staid also?’

‘As a matter of fact, yes,’ Greta responded in a steady voice. She did not want to sound critical. ‘Your clothes are fabulous in their cut and line, but there’s a new mood now. People want frills, and flounces, and pastel colours, florals, and chiffon fabrics. Listen, I don’t mean you should copy anybody, but you need to create a line that has the same appeal of the Christian Dior clothes that came out in 1947. The New Look.’

‘I know his clothes, and I love them,’ Cecily said, her voice suddenly growing enthusiastic. ‘And I will get inspiration here, from Harry’s fantastic gardens. If I start working next week, I can probably have a collection ready for next spring—’

‘No!’ Aunt Dottie exclaimed sharply, cutting in. ‘Design a collection for next autumn. We need to get the business in order first, which Greta and I can do, with your advice and help. Remember, we may have to hire a few more women who are good at making couture, and there will be fabrics to hunt down, and all the usual things you’ll need. Don’t rush this, Cecily.’

‘Dottie is correct,’ Aunt Charlotte remarked. ‘Remember that old saying, “Make haste, make waste.” Let’s not do that. Put everything you’ve got, all that brilliance and talent, and take as much time as you need to create a totally unique, fresh collection. One that is spectacular. And don’t forget, the Festival of Britain is currently being planned. Next year may well be a turning point for the country. And for us. Now let us discuss the debts. A great worry indeed.’

Cecily sat up straighter in her chair, and looked carefully at the other three women. After a moment, she said, ‘I need at least fifteen thousand pounds to be free and clear of everything the business owes, and be ready to start afresh. I will also need money for that. There are such things as rent for the shop, the office, wages for the staff. We need money to buy fabrics, and all the items needed to make the clothes. Wages for the dressmakers making everything by hand. That is a necessity if they are to be sold as couture.’

Cecily shook her head, her face suddenly turning gloomy. ‘The war has been over for four years, and in that time we have been rapidly losing money, customers and clients.’ After taking a deep breath, she finished, ‘Because of this failure on my part, I am unable to give Miles the money he needs for the government taxes on the estate. But he doesn’t know that yet. I’m sorry to say I haven’t had the heart to tell him the bad news.’

There was a silence. No one spoke. Each woman settled back in her chair, obviously thinking of the financial problems facing Cecily – and indirectly them – in regard to the business.

It was Greta who broke the silence, and spoke out, ‘If you would consider this, Cecily, I would like to become a partner with you, you see—’

‘Goodness me, no!’ Cecily cried, interrupting Greta. ‘I won’t let you do that. What if you lose your money, I’d never forgive myself. Elise and Kurt are dependent on you, I know that.’

‘Please, Cecily, just listen for a moment. When my father died, he left his money to Elise and Kurt. You see, he knew I would inherit from my grandmother. My mother was an only child, and after her death when I was young, I became my grandmother’s only heir. As you well know, Grandma died last year, and I put her house in Hampstead on the market. It’s taken a while, but I could afford to wait until I got the right price.

‘Last week it finally sold. The contract is in the works right now. So, you see, I can afford to invest in Swann.’ Greta cleared her throat, and added carefully, ‘But only in Swann. I can’t invest in Cavendon.’

‘I would never let you do that,’ Cecily answered softly. ‘And thank you for offering to invest with me. But I will have to think hard about it, Greta. It is a responsibility, having a financial partner.’

Dottie said, ‘Have you told Miles about Howard’s suggestion? Regarding an auction of the wine?’

‘Not yet, no.’

‘When are you going to tell him? About everything, actually?’

‘I’d planned to do that tomorrow. Saturday is his day off, and we get to spend more time alone together.’

‘Auctioning the wine?’ Aunt Charlotte said, sounding astonished. ‘What a brilliant idea. Howard is rather clever, Dottie.’

‘It wasn’t really Howard’s idea,’ Aunt Dottie answered. ‘He read about a wine auction, which was held by the Earl of Overshed. It was in The Times. Howard suggested I pass on this information to Cecily, because he knows there is an enormous cellar here. Hanson took him on a tour of it. In 1938, in fact, when Hanson was converting the basements into … dormitories, I suppose we should call them. In case the country was invaded by the Nazis.’

‘I certainly think Miles should consider the idea. Do you think he will?’ Aunt Charlotte looked at Cecily, a brow lifting eloquently, a quizzical expression on her face.

‘I feel sure he will, but if he hesitates, I will persuade him. And you’ve just reminded me of something.’ Cecily went on swiftly, ‘I ran into Percy, earlier this week. He told me that some aristocratic families who have shoots like ours are taking paying guests during the shooting season. Mostly rich Americans, who apparently enjoy staying at stately homes and mingling with the toffs.’

Cecily had sounded so droll when she uttered those last words, the other three women burst out laughing. And she joined in.

A moment later, Eric arrived at the gazebo with lemonade and glasses on a tray. Cecily relaxed for a moment, her mind calmer. Charlie and Alicia were also arriving for the weekend, and she needed to check on lunch, but just for a moment she allowed herself to enjoy the July morning, her mind lighter than it had been for weeks.