‘The first costume fitting,’ Mrs Horton announced, ‘is Miss Jewel. She’ll be here at three this afternoon.’
Nancy Jewel’s costume was the most elegant. It was white silk. The skirt was calf length and cut on the cross. Designed to flatter Nancy Jewel’s already perfect figure, it fitted snugly and moved with a jazzy swing when she twirled. The bodice of the dress was decorated with tiny seed pearls and the matching coat had a white fur trim. Margaret wriggled her nose. The fur made her sneeze. Because it was white, it had taken her twice as long to decorate. She had to keep stopping to wash her hands so she didn’t make the fabric grubby.
‘Is the costume ready, Violet?’
‘Yes,’ Violet said, looking at Ivy and Sylvie, who were both nodding.
‘Right! Let’s put everything away so we’re ready when Miss Jewel gets here.’
Everyone dashed about, folding fabric and putting scissors, pins and reels of cotton into tins, drawers and cupboards. Margaret tidied her work station, making sure each differently coloured sequin, bead and button went into the correct box. By the time she’d finished it was almost three.
‘Margaret!’ Mrs Horton called.
‘Yes,’ she said, and then she froze. Nancy Jewel was standing in the doorway. Margaret caught her breath. The Albert’s leading lady was as beautiful off stage as she was on. She was slender and elegant, her hair was a rich silky-brown, her skin flawless and her eyes twinkled when she smiled, as she was doing now. ‘Oh!’ Margaret smiled at her shyly.
‘Take Miss Jewel’s coat.’
‘What? Oh yes. Sorry,’ Margaret said, running over to Nancy Jewel, grabbing a coat-hanger on the way, before helping her out of her outdoor coat. As Nancy undressed Margaret hung up her coat, and then returned for her other clothes.
Of all the costumes the white one had caused Margaret the most headaches. Sewing hundreds of tiny seed pearls onto a white dress was slow and painstaking. But the look of amazement on Nancy Jewel’s face when she saw it hanging in the white room erased the memory of sore fingers and tired eyes.
‘Hang up Miss Jewel’s suit, Margaret,’ Mrs Horton said, handing her a fashionable dove-grey two-piece. And Sylvie, please ask Mrs Goldman to come in?’
Sylvie scuttled off to get Natalie Goldman who, as the designer, had the last say on the costumes, while Ivy and Violet took Nancy’s dress off her dummy and helped her into it.
Mrs Horton circled Nancy, examining first the seams, and then every other part of the costume from the neckline to the hem. Finally she nodded her approval and stepped away to allow Natalie Goldman to take a closer look. Natalie lifted her hands to Nancy’s shoulders. She smoothed the fabric and tugged at it gently, as if she was levelling the shoulder pads.
‘Are you happy with it, Nancy? Happy with how it feels and looks?’ Natalie Goldman asked, running her hands along the fastening at the back.
‘Yes, very happy. It feels wonderful and looks amazing.’
‘Ladies? Everything to your satisfaction?’
Wardrobe mistress and cutter nodded.
Margaret watched Nancy as she looked at herself in the full-length mirror. She lifted her hands to her lips, palms together, and smiled a wide natural smile. Then she turned gracefully. ‘Thank you,’ she said, looking at each of them in turn.
‘It’s a pleasure to make costumes for you, Miss Jewel.’ Turning towards the rest of the wardrobe staff, Mrs Horton sighed with relief. Quickly recovering, she said, ‘If you’d like to help Miss Jewel out of her costume, Violet? And Margaret, please fetch Miss Jewel’s own clothes.’
‘Thank you, ladies,’ Nancy Jewel said, once she had been helped out of her show costume and into her suit.
‘See you tomorrow for Katarina’s fitting,’ Natalie Goldman called from the doorway. The two women left together. When they were out of earshot, Mrs Horton clapped her hands. ‘Well done everyone. Go and get yourselves a cup of tea. Oh, and Miss Jewel brought in a chocolate cake. It’s in a tin on the table.’
The girls left the white room chatting and laughing. ‘Save me a slice,’ Mrs Horton shouted. ‘Katarina Kaplinski’s coming in tomorrow. Doubt we’ll be celebrating when she’s gone.’
‘Kat for short and Cat by nature,’ Violet said to Margaret as they drank tea and ate cake.
‘She’s the number two,’ Ivy said. ‘Lead dancer of the chorus and she thinks she’s it!’
‘They say she was a Russian ballet dancer before the war. She acts like royalty. She ain’t arf jumped up,’ Sylvie said. ‘She treats everyone as works backstage like her servants.’
‘Especially the wardrobe department,’ Ivy added.
Margaret couldn’t wait to meet the cat of the company. Nor could she wait to get home and tell Bill all about Nancy Jewel who, she decided, was the good fairy of the Prince Albert Theatre, where Katarina Kaplinski was the wicked witch.
‘She’s foreign, well she would be with a name like Kaplinski.’ Margaret jumped into bed beside her husband and wriggled her way into his arms. ‘Russian, Sylvie said. I bet she wears expensive clothes. She could be royalty. A Russian princess. She might be a spy.’ Still contemplating the various scenarios, Margaret snuggled up to Bill, who had tried to stay awake during the saga of Katarina Kaplinski – royalty, or spy. However, after a long day biking from one government office to another – and an even longer night as a volunteer ambulance driver – he was asleep the instant his head touched the pillow.
Katarina Kaplinski’s entrance the following day did not disappoint. She swept into the white room exactly as Margaret imagined she would, and everyone jumped. Everyone, that is, except Mrs Horton. The wardrobe mistress was
