The House of Beardsley

Chapter Forty-six

"Susanne."

I looked up from the mannequin I was focused on. The worn-out brown measuring tape and the freshly-cut red fabric fell limply as I released two fingers to hold the pins clenched between my teeth to speak.

"Yes, Mistress Gibson?"

My employer, owner of the tailoring and clothing store I worked at, walked out from the front room, and inspected the work I had done on the other mannequin.

"Very tidy," she said, nodding in approval of the stitching, "but forget about the dress Miss Lydia Pierce ordered for the ball next month. Two other orders for baby dresses just came in and they want it as soon as possible. One blue, one pink."

"Baby dresses." I smiled. "I haven't made those in a while."

"Well, you'll be making them in a while," Mistress Gibson replied, taking the red fabric from my hands. "You're already twenty-three this year, you can't expect to stay a bachelorette and work here forever."

"I can't?" I asked. Five years had passed since I left Beardsley, and I've been working at The Gibsons' Tailoring as a seamstress ever since. The couple was old, nearly sixty, so I did the majority of the work since their youngest got married recently and left.

It was out in the countryside, on the border of England, so I was sure I wouldn't be seen by the Beardsleys or Beth and the girls.

I rented a small room in a house shared by many people, mostly old people who I didn't talk to besides an occasional greeting, and I got by well without much socialization nor need to talk to people.

People did whisper about me and look at me, but once I thought of how Clo would snap, or Beth would pout, and Rhiannon would stand there coolly like it had nothing to do with her, I felt stronger and managed to straighten my back.

For work, I sewed and worked behind the scenes while Mistress Gibson took measurements and orders, so no one knew I worked there, to my relief.

"That's not what I meant," Mistress Gibson said with a sigh. She ran her hand through her almost entirely grey hair. "Ever since you started working here our store has received more orders and my husband can rest his back."

"So why?" I asked.

"It's simply that I don't think it's right for you to live like a recluse. You have no family, no friends, no lover, and you don't seem interested in any of those."

"I have friends," I said.

"Yes, you told me the same thing four years ago, but I still haven't seen the shadow of a single friend—"

She was interrupted with the sound of the bell.

"Oh, there's a customer, Mistress Gibson."

"I know, Susanne. Now don't worry about Miss Lydia Pierce's dress, I'll tell you the details of the baby dresses, you can take a rest as of now." She opened the door and then went to the front of the store.

I stood up, and smoothed out the dress on the other marionette.

It was a richly saturated purple, and I knew it would look great on Clo. I wondered how she looked after five years. The others too. Maybe Rhiannon's hair was even longer—if that was imaginable. I had stopped wearing my hair in two braids and instead they were in a simple coiffure.

I hadn't grown taller, but I wondered if Beth did. After all, she was fourteen before. Did she grow out her hair, maybe?

"Susanne?"

I raised my head, not expecting her to be back so soon.

"Is something the matter, Mistress Gibson?" From her expression, it was plain that something, in fact, was.