A New Dream by Maggie Ford (world of reading .TXT) 📕

They were going out more as a couple too, to the cinema, theatre, dinner; just the two of them without the company of friends. But she knew work suffered and was sure that he too silently fretted over it. He was trying so hard to make her happy and she loved him for it; it was she who was now feeling guilty.

‘We should be concentrating on next month’s display,’ she murmured as they lingered over dinner one evening after seeing a show. He smiled.

‘Like you said, darling, we need some time to ourselves.’ It sounded like criticism but he took her hand reassuringly across the table. ‘We can make up for it the rest of the week.’

The rest of the week did see them hard at work, realizing how the time soon slipped away. Julia’s next fashion show was still several weeks away. The cost of these shows often made Julia’s mouth dry up with fear. The hire of the venue and the models, the cost of sets, lighting, music, and all else that went into putting on a fashion show could amount to around ten to twenty thousand pounds depending on its size and where it was held. The bigger fashion houses would pay even more. Bank loans usually paid for their shows, the money to be repaid by a certain time. So far they’d come out with a profit, such was the measure of their growing success.

Thoughts of work were always with them. As they sat together in a cinema one Saturday night their minds were elsewhere. It was only a matter of time before the next wave of new fashions descended on them. Already Julia was mentally preparing herself for the coming season’s styles.

Her mind more on the clothes than the film, a talkie called The Last of Mrs Cheyney, she whispered to Simon in the hushed auditorium, ‘I’m sure America’s ahead of us in dress.’ She was immediately shushed into silence, and glanced angrily at the shusher before turning back to gaze woodenly ahead.

She wasn’t all that interested in the film, despite the fine acting of Norma Shearer and Basil Rathbone, two of the most popular stars, whose voices now held audiences spellbound. Many silent film stars had not survived the move to ‘talkies’, their high, scratchy tones putting off the fans who had previously adored them.

With the arrival of talkies just under a year ago the atmosphere in the cinema had changed. It was often difficult to catch the rapid American accents, so it was necessary to keep one’s whole attention on the film. Consequently, the slightest cough, rustle of a sweet bag or the hiss of whispered conversation was a distraction. During silent films the place would have been full of open talk, crunching of peanut shells, shuffling feet and open comments about the film, with the audience even reading the captions aloud.

‘Styles are changing. I’m going to have to keep my eye on them.’ Julia risked another whisper and saw Simon nod his agreement in the pale glow from the screen, his eyes trained on the actors.

For the rest of the film, a stilted story without much movement to it, Julia’s mind churned over the changing trends in fashion. Bosoms were making a slow reappearance; the wildly gyrating dances popular a few years ago were now slower as dresses were becoming more ladylike and skirts lengthening. Belts were still at hip level but tops were now bloused, and hats had larger brims while still covering much of the face. Jewellery no longer dangled in long, garish strings and there was not a slave bangle to be seen. Everything was more elegant, the sleek, trading, figure-hugging evening dress becoming ever more de rigueur.

As they moved towards the closing years of the 1920s she felt the new decade would be totally different from this one. A sense of eagerness assailed her as she stared vacantly at the screen. Already there was a change in the air. She and Simon would be ready for it.

It wasn’t until they’d arrived back home that it came to her that the surge of eagerness she had experienced had temporarily pushed out all thoughts of marriage and babies. The realization made her look afresh at what she had now and what she’d achieved: this tastefully planned apartment, her wardrobe of lovely clothes, her expensive shoes, her jewellery, her beautifully manicured hands. And there was more: the inspiration that gripped her each time she entered her workroom, the exhilarating smell of new fine materials, the stimulating touch of tracing paper under her fingers. All this had become her life. Did she really want to give it all up? She couldn’t imagine life without it. Was she really cut out for marriage and babies? Would marriage now in fact make any difference to her and Simon’s lifestyle?

Suddenly she could not visualize herself bringing up a baby, nursing it, comforting it when it cried, bathing it, putting it to bed. With the money they now had she could afford a nursemaid and a nanny, but what would be the point? Perhaps Simon was right. Why worry him when they more or less had everything? No one could expect to have it all. She needed to learn to be content. She was a businesswoman. Babies and business just did not mix, she concluded sternly, and believed it.

Ginny burst into the cutting room. ‘Stephanie’s had her baby!’

Julia looked up from talking to Betty, still her number one cutter. But before she could speak, Ginny rushed on, her face alight with excitement.

‘She went into labour in the night. Edward’s just been on the phone. He wanted to speak to you but he couldn’t wait. He had to get back to her.’

The old surge of envy and strange emptiness ran through Julia. ‘Why weren’t we told earlier?’ she demanded as if Ginny were at fault.

Ginny didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Because it started in the early hours and she only had