‘Not really, I just felt like another look before I make up my mind. I do love the idea of a two-piece but it’s a bit like candy floss on me hips and it sticks out a bit…’ This was only a sample model but the client was already hesitating at the sight of herself in the mirror. ‘Herbie will want me to stick out but not this much. It’s both our big day after all. What do you think, Jeanette?’

Netta took in a deep breath. The drab beetroot shade drained all the colour from Elsie’s plump baby-faced prettiness and the platinum blonde fluff of her expensive perm. She had also expanded since the last session and the length was unforgiving.

It was written in tablets of stone that no alterations minion should venture an opinion. This being the case many customers were allowed out of the door in the wrong length of sleeve or hemline or the wrong design for their shape, whatever the price of their dress, grateful to have anything new to wear. Every defect was put down to ‘shortages in the trade’ and the ‘best goes for export’, which Netta knew was blatantly untrue. ‘We never lose a sale. If needs be, we sell our ladies short;’ was Maudie’s secret maxim. Quality and class meant dishonesty and disrespect in this establishment.

Elsie was going to look like a puce beer barrel in that suit. Maybelle was not here to run the show and Miss Venables was called away by telephone so Netta whispered, ‘It’s not the best colour for you, it drains your lovely suntan, and where will the honeymoon be?’ She paused, seeing Miss Venables approaching fast to clinch the sale.

‘To Madeira like the cake – quiet but rocky, my Herbie says. Just his sort of place. Still, at our age… The gardens are supposed to be nice. Not the same second time around, I reckon.’

‘Well, you’ll look lovely on your day, I’m sure, but maybe not in that pink, and I’m not sure about the waistline. The “Aurora” is quite a tight-fitting suit, it would need re-shaping completely. Is that style really what you had in mind? Another shade perhaps, a larger size. Did we try on the “Margaret Rose”? It’s a bit simpler…’

‘It looked a bit plain on the hanger, didn’t it, Miss Venables? But if you think… is me bum getting in the way of things or me tum this time? Eeh, what it is to be young and have a figure like you! At least Madam Maudie keeps me company.’ Elsie was clearly wavering.

Miss Venables flushed with fury and pointed a dagger-like finger to the stockroom. ‘The seamstress will get it for you. Sometimes dresses that look limp on a hanger are stunning on the figure.’