Anna
My dear, this is absolutely NOT what I wanted!
Miss Annette Worthington spun once before the large gilt mirror, then turned again, her expression growing more displeased.
Heavens! Have people entirely forgotten how to sew? Or perhaps they never knew at all?
Natalie bit her lip, carefully adjusting the hem of the new gown, all the while holding her tongue. You mustnt lose your composure!
If Annette left dissatisfied, Natalie wouldnt have the means to pay the rent that month. Everything left in her little tin would be spent on Grans medicine. The medicines prescribed by her new doctor were frightfully expensivefar more than they could affordbut the results were undeniable. Grans speech was slowly returning after that dreadful second stroke, and that was a miracle.
Annette Worthington gave herself another slow twirl in the mirror and sighed heavily.
Well, theres nothing for it! Ill have to make do. Theres no time to sew a replacement nowthe reception at the embassy is the day after tomorrow, and Ill look like a village schoolmistress! This lace was a silly idea from the start! Why didnt you talk me out of it, Natalie?
Natalie rose gracefully from her knees, smoothing out the sleeves of Annettes dress with neat, practised hands.
To my eye, delicate handwork and such unique touches are bound to be admiredat least by those who understand fashion. Have you seen the latest showcases in London? This is the very thing! Though done far less tastefully, I might add.
You really think so? Annette replied, uncertain. Actually, there is something about it. Its original at leastno one else will have anything like it. I shall be the first!
Natalie exhaled quietly. It was always the same: Annette came with her own ideas, then fussed and complained, even though she understood fashion better than Natalie herselfand perhaps even better than half of Bond Streets celebrated couturiers.
Thank goodness for Gran.
Annette had been their client since Grans days at an exclusive Chelsea dressmakers. Back then, they were all so young and livelythe photographs showed Annette, unashamed of her splendid legs and daring décolletage.
Those days were a long way behind now. But whenever Annette reappeared, Gran always insisted, Dont you turn her away, Natalie. Dont say no! Shes an unfortunate woman, simple as that. Acts the grand lady, but truth be toldshes seen enough hardship for two lifetimes, though the world would never know.
Tell me, Granwhat happened with her?
Oh, not much to tell, really She arrived in London years ago, all the way from a small northern town, determined to conquer the city. Striking beauty, wonderful voice. Professors at the conservatoire were struck dumb the first time they heard hermind you, shed never studied music, not properly. Enrolled without qualificationthose talents were not to be wasted. Two years of study, then married, foolishly. Her husbands people were frightfully grand. What did they want with a girl like her? Their son wouldnt listeninsisted he loved her, and that was that. They had to give in, but made themselves the heroes: See how tolerant we are, taking in a girl of no pedigree!
And in truth, Gran?
In truth, his mother dragged Annette round to private clinics for the five years they were married. She was just Anna then. Her parents were old-school, strict as they come. When Anna ran away to the city, they disowned her. She had nowhere to go back tobut shed been raised to endure. Once married, you stayed put. No shame upon the family! And so, she put up with it obeyed everyone, particularly her mother-in-law, who declared it was no time to start a familydown to the clinic she went. She was in tears, lost her voice more than once, but where else could she turn? Her parents would never have taken her back. I never understood how she had the courage to leave home, yet none to leave that marriage. Probably upbringing. If youre endlessly told to bear suffering, how would you know any alternative?
But her husband? I asked.
A useless fellowan incorrigible philanderer. Whatever love he felt vanished six months after the wedding, then it was his parents will that kept the marriage intact. He couldnt divorcehis career would have suffered. Such things were rigidly observed in those days. So it dragged on.
She did leave him in the end?
Yes, eventually. It was a battle, but she did. She came to me in pieces, would curl up in the battered old wing chair we hid in the studios corner, invisible unless she wanted to be seen. Shed sit, sometimes weep, then stand before the mirror andthere! Beautiful again. The girls envied her poise and figure. A sackcloth would have looked fashionable on Annette. Shed order a new dress or one of those invisible skirts
Whats that, Gran?
Like wearing little more than a belta proper miniskirt. At first, only the boldest wore such things. Annette was an early adopter. Later, everyone tried them.
And then? Did anything good come her way?
Not much, darling. Two more husbands. She bore a son, which was a miracle in itself.
Why a miracle?
Because after what was done to her by that first family, it was unlikely she could have children at all. But fate allowed her one. In hindsight, perhaps it would have been better not to.
Gran!
I knowI sound harsh. But some people, Natalie, are best never passed on to the next generation. I dont mean Annettebut her third husband, the boys father.
Did he harm them?
A wretched man. Deceptive. Outwardly charming, but in trutha brute. What she endured, she never truly described. She rarely complained, refused to be pitied: Its no business of yours! Yet she dressed in trousers for two years, not for the fashion but to hide what hed done. Her skin was so delicateevery mark showed. But she bore it in silence, always. Odd, how women areif theres a speck of love or hope, we grit our teeth and endure. For whom? Who does it serve?
How did she manage to carry her son in such a hellish home?
Thats the mystery! She left him about four months into her pregnancy, went into hiding. He was a dangerous man, influential. If he wanted her found, Im sure he could have. But something between them must have softened himhe let her go. And she was overjoyedshining, radiant. The childan angel, the spitting image of his mother. Not a trace of the father. As if by request, not to remind her.
But appearance isnt everything. What the boy inherited from his father came out eventually. Try as she did, Annette couldnt make up for his lack of a family. As a teenager, he sought out his father, and Annettes life entered another circle of hell. A new circle, like Dante, shed say.
Dante?
Thats the one. Annette read a great deal, took her education seriously once her singing voice failed. By then shed become a fine art historian, and discovered an uncanny gift for antiquesshe could appraise at sight, almost never wrong. Thats why shes still in demand.
So she doesnt live in poverty now, Gran?
Not now, but when her son lived with her, it was dreadful. He was his fathers son. At first, fearful of crossing her, but he soon grew bold. Annette loved her boy fiercely, forgave all, endured all. Yet the things he didunspeakable. For example: Annette had a little spaniel, a gift for her birthday. She adored it. The boy hated it. One day, embittered by its barking, he hurled it out the window. Sixth floor. The dog had been with them for two years. Most would have grown attached, or at least felt some sympathy for a creature. But not him
And Annette didnt throw him out after?
He refused to live with his fatherthere was no one there to torment. His new half-sister was untouchable: when the boy tried to hurt her once, his father saw to it with a heavy hand. Whether that broke the boy or happened later, who knows? He resented it, no doubtunloved, ignored, while the little sister had everything: pool, pony, dresses. Annette had always been cautiousnot forbidding contact with the father, but never encouraging it. She knew what he was.
Gran its terrible.
Thats not even the worst, child. The worst came later, when the boy grew, and the darkness in his father surfaced in him fully.
Did he do something awful?
Yes. He attempted to destroy those he blamed for his failures. Mind you, he wanted for nothing. He did not wish to study, nor workhe simply dreamed of ease, as his father lived. Yet his father was no foolhe worked for what he had, albeit not always legally. People who worked for him praised his generosity. But the boy never saw any of it. He thought money dropped like apples off trees. He scorned Annetteconsidered her feeble and dull, a woman whod wasted happiness.
What did he do, Gran?
He prevailed upon his father to take himand his stepmother and half-sisteron a hunt, feigning a longing for family unity. He then fired upon the girl, making it look accidental. His father put the story together immediately; the child was unharmed, but Annettes son was sentenced to a long prison termeight years, if I recall. Not even Annettes connections could help; the charge was severe.
She begged her husband to help?
She didwent to him and knelt, something he had always wanted, but shed never permitted, not even in marriage. Annette told me herself: after it was all over, she stood before the studio mirror and spat. I hate him! she cried. We were confusedat whom? She wouldnt say. Fled to the washroom, fell faint. The ambulance was called. After, she explained everything. We took turns being sick ourselves, so horrid the tale.
And after?
The case went to court. Annettes son was imprisoned. Her ex-husband flung papers at Annettes feet at the sentencing, telling her never to darken his life again. Annette had no wish to. She returned home, locked herself in the bathroom andwell, very nearly did herself in. Fortunately, willpower won out. She dragged herself to the phone and called a friend before losing consciousness. After, she voluntarily sought treatment in a clinic.
How dreadful!
You dont say! She emerged a different woman, even changed her name. Opened a separate account for her son, hired someone to oversee his needspackages, solicitors, the rest. But she herself never spoke to him againit was beyond her. She later tormented herself for that.
Why, Gran?
Her son never returned from prison. He never learned how to surviveit wasnt in him, not like his mother. He got into fights, tried to assert himself, but those on the inside are not forgiving
Gran, does such a life really happen?
More than you might think, dear. Sometimes reality writes novels more harrowing than fiction ever could.
And then?
Annette survived, somehow. Barely, but she did. Fate, perhaps weary of tormenting her, finally gave her a second chance.
How?
She couldnt bear to live in the old flat, where shed raised her son. Everything reminded her of loss, even the communal garden where shed once found her little dog. The place had come to her from her first husbands grandmother, who believed Annette deserved something for all shed suffered.
She seemed a fine woman, Gran.
She was. Annette sold the flatfine location in the heart of London, near the tube, three bedrooms. She made good money, enough for a modest place nearby, nothing lost and some to spare. It funded the refurbishment and kept her solvent until she could find peace of heart. Most of it, though, she soon spent…
Where, if she lived alone?
Not quite alone. Soon after she moved, a terrible fire swept her new buildingtwo entire floors burnt to cinders. Only one person was harmed: the drunken recluse whose flat started it. His mother was away, hed invited a lady friend, they fell asleepI forget the restbut she managed to escape. The rest of the block scattered onto the street, but Annette lived two stairways away and was untouched.
And then?
Thats when Annette met Sasha and her childrenSashas the young woman Annette brought here for a wardrobe, remember? Sashas not her daughter, though youd think so. The first time they met, Sasha had a baby girl and a five-year-old boy. Her husband was a firemanwell, an alpine rescuer, really.
Why was, Gran?
He diedawfully, too. He had to abseil down a tower block for an emergencysome child trapped on a balcony. But just above, a madman cut the ropes. For some reason, security didnt hold. The doctors fought all night, but he didnt make ittoo far to fall, and no soft landing.
How dreadful
Quite. Sasha was left with two small children and, amidst the fire, lost nearly all her possessions. Annette found her distraught, the girl screaming, the boy sobbing in the courtyard. Annette asked if they needed anything, but when she looked at Sasha, she was spellbound. Sasha was the image of Annettes own mother as a young womanthe same eyes, the same way of tilting her head, the long, light-brown plait. Annette thought such women were gone from the earth. But it was soul as much as appearancea heart open and unspoiled by hardship, despite it all. Annette couldnt fathom it. After so many blows, another would have been bitter for life
Did Annette help her?
She didall through the renovations, Sasha and her children lived with her. Annette covered the costs herself, without hesitation, simply asking Sasha which wallpaper or tiles she preferred.
All that, for strangers, Gran? I never thought such kindness possible.
Nor did I, until your mum was born.
What has she got to do with it?
It was Annette who helped ussecured the surgeons when your mother needed her heart operation, found her the best rehabilitation, paid everything without ever asking for repayment. Later, when we thought you wouldnt arrive safely, Annette found a doctor who made your birth possible.
You never told me.
You never asked, and Annette forbade it. She hates being thankedsays its her atonement.
For what, for heavens sake? After all shes suffered?
Guilts a strange thing, love. Even when theres nothing to be guilty for, it gnaws away, and Annette always took the blame. Some bear burdens that ought to break them, yet dont She was one of those. But life gave her a reward, at lastnot from her family, but from strangers turned kin. Try telling Annette or Sasha that theyre unrelatedtheyd laugh. Annette has a daughter now, and Sashas children have a grandmother. Life sometimes arranges the strangest dances, child
As Natalie hemmed the skirt just as Annette asked, she didnt notice when a fat envelope appeared on her worktable.
No, Natalie, I was quite mistaken! This style suits me perfectly! Theyll be in raptures at the reception! Look at you staring at meI am full of surprises, and yes, a terrible nuisance! But what amusements are left for a woman my age but little mischiefs? Forgive me, dear one, will you?
Natalie nodded politely and smoothed the fabric.
Like this?
Yes, exactly what I wanted. Now, darling, I shall go and greet your Gran, then leave you in peace. Has the doctor attended her?
Yeshe says shes doing better.
I should be shocked if it were otherwise. Young, but already renowned. And your Gran! Shes a force. Nothing frightens women of her mettle. I do hope you take after her, Nataliea worthy example! Ahalmost forgotIll bring my Sasha by in a few days. She must have a proper suit. Shes finally defending her thesis, can you imagine? Such hard work, but now shes doubly qualified and will find a better position. So youll have plenty of work from me.
And Ill be very grateful!
Nonsense! Thank yourself for those clever hands and that fine head! It takes talent to create a gownany seamstress can sew, but few can conjure magic. And you can! Just like your Gran. Thats why I cherish you. But enough chatterI must be off!
Only after Miss Worthington left did Natalie discover the envelope. She opened it, gasped.
Gran! This is too muchI must return it!
Dont you dare! Shed be offended, love. Sometimes, you must let a person be generous. She needs to give every bit as much as you need to receive.
She knows how tough it is for us, doesnt she?
Of course. Thats why she helpsyou see, shes always been like that. Think instead of how you can delight Sashaitll mean more to Annette than any thanks.
I wonder, Granis it right to be so self-sacrificing?
Who knows, child Do you? I certainly dont. Ill say this: such people are rare, like great jewels. Dig one from the earth, and an untutored eye might never know its worth. But polish it, let life facet and render itand suddenly, it shines from within, captivating all. That shining comes from reflected light, mind: no stone glows alone in the dark. With even a spark from outside, its transformed. I think Annette knows thisso she seeks that light in others, and gifts it herself, as best she can. Do you think she succeeds?
I think Ive never seen anything so brightor anyone more illuminating.Gran smiled, her face lined but radiant, memories flickering in her eyes. She reached over and squeezed Natalies hand, warm and firm.
So long as you keep seeing that light, and keep finding ways to shape it into something beautifulwhether lace, kindness, or simply the courage to listenthen Annettes gift does not end with her. Its passed along, stitched into the hems of every life you touch.
Natalie bent, folding the envelope gently, and tucked it under the spool tray. She glanced towards the small window: the last edge of dusk gilded the rooftops gold and violet. For a heartbeat, it seemed possible that, beyond the thrum of hardship and heartbreak, the quiet work of hands and hearts could alter destinies.
In the parlor, Annettes laughter drifted throughrich, defiant, impervious to sorrow. Sasha would come, and perhaps her children would tumble through their tiny rooms, and Gran would tell yet another story. And in their corner of the city, amidst spent needles and ribbon ends, hopegossamer, persistentwould rise once more, stitched into the seams and seams again, until everythingevery sorrow, every kindness, every uncertain beginningat last became something shining and new.
Natalie stood, smoothing her apron, her worries gentle for now, and with steady, grateful hands turned up the lamp against the gathering night.
