Chapter 19. Acquisitions
“I’m certain you’ll like this one,” said Jane as both women drove in Jane’s Ford Anglia toward Hampstead Heath, “No garden but such a view! It’s a second floor maisonette – two whole floors with a bit of a balcony. Lots of room, considering it’s a London flat. Be honest if you take against it – I’ve got four other possibilities – it’s just that this is the one with the most space.”
The yellow stone-faced outside bore a plaque honoring the building – or at least the location – as one of William Blake’s London residences.
“Promising augury for poets,” said Scarlet, resolved to love the place and get this over with.
“Of course!” agreed Jane, who clearly had never noticed the plaque before. Possibly a disorganized, half-crazed ancient mystic was not the type her usual clientele yearned to emulate. “So, you write, too?”
“I’ve been a bit absorbed in the baby,” said Scarlet. “But I have hopes.”
The entrance was cramped and unphotogenic– obstructed as it was by dustbins – and the narrow staircase was clearly impossible for prams.
“Furniture comes in through the windows,” said Jane, and when Scarlet commented, “Like Holland” she agreed, “As you say.”
Jane was too agreeable – it was beginning to make Scarlet’s skin crawl. What would Jane would say if a male client asked to squeeze her knockers? “As you say?” Or is that just my cynicism, Scarlet wondered. Have my husband’s predilections ruined my temperament?
After the hard work of stair climbing they stepped into a lovely, light filled flat, large as promised, with a full bathroom on each floor. Scarlet wanted it at once. The kitchen was miniature with the usual unacceptable Stone Age English appliances – but there was a bedroom off it – “Servant quarters” according to Jane – which would do for an au pair. Scarlet fantasized that if you got rid of the huge Victorian bathtub and installed a shower instead the downstairs bath could contain a modern washing machine. Three large reception rooms, and upstairs three big-windowed bedrooms. Off the largest bedroom was a tiny balcony with room only for a pair of chairs but with a glorious view all across London.
“We’ll take it,” said Scarlet and Jane crowed with satisfaction, “I thought you might.”
There was nothing to sign and no mention of money.
“We need Margalo to negotiate with the builders,” said Jane, “She’ll tell them what’s what. I’ll give her the green light, shall I?”
“How lovely,” sighed Scarlet. Was this what spending was like for rich people? Minions took care of all details, while your sole obligation was to consult your pleasure.
“Shall I drop you at your hotel?” queried Jane.
“No,” said Scarlet. “Montcalm Ladies’ Clothiers.” She couldn’t say, “I have a date.” And after all, wasn’t shopping what ladies were expected to do when they came up from the country? Scarlet needed London clothes for her new London life.
“I can find it,” Jane said confidently.
Two suits, two cocktail dresses, a long black velvet skirt and a brocade gold top were what Montcalm Clothiers’ fashion wizard Stella told Scarlet she would require, and Scarlet quite agreed. Two tweed suits – for town and country – thrown into the bargain. Scarlet sat on a miniature Louis Quinze sofa, accepted a cup of weak China tea (no milk, sugar or lemon) and watched a parade of garments. The dark blue chiffon cocktail dress made her heart beat fast but, “I don’t think I have a waist yet,” she sighed.
“Nonsense,” said Stella brusquely, “Where would any of us be without our corsets?” And she produced a buff and black merry widow complete with stocking suspenders. “Give it a try.”
It worked.
Stella said, “We don’t sell proper jewelry here, just a few outfit-finishing costume pieces but nothing better instructs a man what to give for Christmas and birthday when he contemplates the shortcomings of your jewel box.”
So that’s how it’s done, thought Scarlet. Clever girls!
A brooch, a necklace and a wonderful pair of dangly jet earrings were consequently chosen.
Scarlet felt most important. No mention of Margalo here – but merely – “Would you like to open an account? We need a few items of personal information.”
These included references. Scarlet gave Margalo and both the London and Oakhampton bank managers.
“Shall we bill the country or town home?” Stella was good. She was almost as good as Jane but, because she was older and consequently wore a lot more makeup the tension lines around her lips gave her away.
“The town home,” said Scarlet, “We’re not moving into the London flat till February 1st.”
Stella’s face relaxed and she purred like a kitten as she took down the address. “Wyvern House” did sound quite chi-chi.
“Shall I send these along to your hotel?”
“Will there be delivery by five?” asked Scarlet and when reassured, gave her address. Mentioning the Cumberland seemed to seal – not queer – the deal.
Alysse Aallyn 
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