Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
It is evening at Cavendish Mews, and like many other evenings, Lettice has had , her old childhood chum, Gerald, join her for a quiet dinner, just the two of them. Whilst Gerald is also a member of the aristocracy who has tried to gain some independence from his family by designing gowns from a shop in Grosvenor Street, his underlying reasons differ greatly from Lettice’s. Their families’ properties may neighbour one another, but whereas the Chetwynds have weathered the storms of war, tax increases and the necessity to modernise that the Twentieth Century has dealt them, the Brutons, Gerald’s parents, have not been so fortunate. Gerald has a paltry allowance from his father, which has only dwindled since the family has been beset by more financial difficulties in the last few years, so the success of his fledgling couture house is imperative for his survival. Luckily, as well as being handsome, Gerald is charming, and has therefore been invited by friends to enjoy their largess and he often dines out at the cost of others. Lettice may be Gerald’s best friend, and her dinner invitation is always welcome, however the evening offers more than just a free meal for Gerald. By bringing some of his sewing, he can use Lettice’s electricity rather than his own, dealing him a small saving, and both of them may enjoy one another’s company as part of the arrangement.
Lettice usually sits and works at her Hepplewhite desk next to the fire in her drawing room, whilst Gerald sews a piece of one of his latest creations for a customer in the comfort of one of Lettice’s arm chairs, but tonight Lettice is enjoying a night of freedom and is sitting in her Art Deco tub arm chair contentedly reading a copy of the Daily Mail and watching Gerald sitting across from her, embroidering the collar of what will soon be a new outfit for her. Whilst they chat and drink one of Lettice’s fine French champagne, they both enjoy the gift of a shiny new brass wireless, a gift from Selwyn Spencely, the future Duke of Mumford, whom Lettice has been seeing socially for a little over a year now.
“I must say,” Gerald remarks as he takes a sip of champagne and settles back with Lettice’s collar into her comfortable tub chair. “Spencely’s gift really does make what was already a wonderful evening even better.” He glances at the shining brass wireless. “It really is ripping getting to listen to music without even leaving the comfort of home.”
“Or the comfort of someone else’s home.” Lettice adds with a cheeky smile, taking a sip of champagne from her own tall glass flute.
“Indeed.” Gerald murmurs, glancing down at the fine pale orange stitches he is adding to a floral motif on the collar as his face flushes. Even though Lettice is aware of Gerald’s financial situation, and she is happy to let Gerald do some work at her flat to help him save money, it is still a point of embarrassment for Gerald and he tries not to let Lettice see him blush. “Mind you,” he adds. “You’ll do well out of this bargain, my darling.” He holds up the collar so Lettice can admire the large petals in pink and orange that radiate around the large Peter Pan collar*.
“Oh, it’s lovely, Gerald!” Lettice enthuses as she reaches across the coffee table and touches the looped embroidery around the edge of the collar, worked in a fine golden apricot. “Elizabeth is going to love it!”
“I hope you are the one who is going to love it, Lettice darling.” Gerald remarks, placing the collar back in his lap. “After all you will be the one wearing it, not Elizabeth.”
Lettice sighs. “I don’t think anyone will care about what I’m wearing to Elizabeth’s wedding**.”
“And so they shouldn’t.” Gerald retorts with a snort. Seeing the hurt in his best friend’s eyes at his statement, he quickly elaborates, “Well, not care so much as focus more on her rather than you. After all she is the bride, and a royal one at that. I know of no bride in all of Christendom who would want to be outshone by any of her wedding guests,” He nods in Lettice’s direction. “However lovely they may be.”
“Thank you, Gerald darling.” Lettice blows her friend a kiss and takes another sip from her tall champagne flute. “There won’t be much chance of that,” Lettice says resignedly, tossing the copy of the Daily Express from her lap irritably onto the black japanned tabletop of the coffee table between them. There on its cover, another romantic photographic portrait of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon looking demure as she casts her gaze downwards, takes up more than a third of the tabloid’s cover. “Judging by every rag in the city. It’s ‘Elizabeth this’ and ‘Elizabeth that’.”
“I say! Are you just a teensy bit jealous of her, Lettuce Leaf?” Gerald asks teasingly using her abhorred childhood nickname.
“Don’t call me that Gerald!” Lettice warns her friend. “You know I don’t like it.”
“You didn’t mind it when we were four.”
“But I’m not four any more Gerald, and nor are you.” She gives him a doubtful look.
“You are, Lettuce Leaf! You’re jealous of Elizabeth because she has all the attention of the press in the society pages!”
“I wouldn’t say that I’m jealous, exactly, Gerald,” Lettice begins, but she retracts this statement as Gerald looks across at her doubtfully. “Well, maybe I am, just a little bit. I mean, I am very happy for her, and I’m delighted that the press love her and give her positively glowing publicity.” She pauses.
“But?” Gerald probes.
“But, it is getting a little bit tiresome, isn’t it? We’ve barely featured in the society pages since the wedding was announced.”
“We aren’t alone, Lettice darling,” Gerald commiserates. “Barely anyone has.”
“It’s like the whole country has gone Elizabeth mad!”
“I should get Hattie to invest in a wireless.” Gerald ruminates, changing the subject momentarily away from the marriage of Elizabeth Bowes Lyon to the Duke of York***. “If a few of us pooled some money: Hattie, Cyril, Charlie Boy, we might be able to afford one.”
“But what happens if one of Miss Milford’s lodgers decides to leave? What happens with the wireless then? You can’t cut it into sections. Would Cyril or Charles claim custody rights for a few weeks a year?”
The pair laugh at the idea.
“You know, you should come to Hattie’s tonight, Lettice darling.” Gerald says to Lettice as he now draws a pale pink thread through the collar on his lap. “It will be great fun, and far better than sitting here alone, even if you do have your wireless for company.”
“I’m not alone. I have Edith.” Lettice defends, referring to her maid.
“You know what I mean.” He gives her a withering look. “Don’t be tiresome, darling! Being a bottle party**** we’re guaranteed to have some interesting cocktails to drink. You’ve got plenty to choose from in your cocktail cabinet. I’ve got my new banjo***** in the Morris****** because one of Cyril’s orchestra friends who is coming tonight has promised to give me a few lessons on playing it. Come on! It will marvellous fun!”
“I haven’t exactly been invited, Gerald.” She gives him a doubtful look.
“Oh, Hattie won’t mind! The more the merrier, so long as you bring a bottle. In fact, that will make it even merrier, especially if it’s a bottle of gin.” He takes another sip of champagne and raises his flute in his half of a toast. “Being a bunch of theatricals, it might be, well, a bit…”
“Theatrical?”
“Theatrical, yes, but such marvellous fun! We’re quite a tight and fun group, you know,”
“I really don’t know, Gerald.”
Gerald sits up in his seat and puts the collar aside, laying it flat on the black japanned coffee table between them. “Why have you taken against Hattie so, Lettice?”
“I haven’t, Gerald!” she defends. “She’s making me a new hat!”
“Oh pooh to the hat she is making you! I’d say you have.” he counters as he looks at Lettice with a seriousness that he rarely does. “She told me when you visited her to commission her to make your hat for Elizabeth’s wedding, that you were a little bit pompous.”
“Did she?” Lettice’s eyes widen and her expertly plucked brows arch over them at the revelation. “Pompous? Me?”
“Yes, you.” he says pointedly as he picks up the collar again and draws the pink thread through with added concentration. “Certainly, from what she was telling me, and I hate to say this, but you did come across as pompous, darling.”
“That’s rich coming from the man who originally despised Mrs. Hatchett for her up-and-coming middle-class mediocrity.”
“Customers who are more exalted and refined than your second cousins?” Gerald paraphrases from the conversation between Lettice and Harriet as related to him by Harriet.
Lettice blushes.
“You may be friends with Elizabeth, darling, but even when she becomes the Duchess of York, you could hardly call her exalted.”
“She might be Queen one day, Gerald. After all, our King was Duke of York once.”
“But he was always first in line, and we all know that Bertie is not, and the Prince of Wales isn’t going anywhere. He enjoys the adulation of the people too much to not be King one day!”
“Yes, especially of other men’s wives.” Lettice acknowledges.
“And besides, Elizabeth has her own milliner. She’s hardly going to go to Hattie just because she makes you a fetching hat.” He looks reproachfully at Lettice. “Pulling the class card. Really darling! I would have expected better from you. What’s Hattie ever done to you?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing, exactly! So ask again, why have you taken against her so?”
“She’s… she’s…” Lettice stammers as emotions she has kept controlled and to herself begin to build before finally bursting forth. “She’s just so, nice, so pretty, so sweet natured and good tempered.” She pauses. “It’s like she’s a saint! She calls you Gerry and… and she embraces you in such a familiar way when she sees you, and she invites you to bottle parties at her house!”
“Ahh,” Gerald sinks back in his seat. “Finally! The truth will out! You’re jealous of Hattie. You seem to think that she is usurping you in my affections. You think you’ll lose your best friend to her.”
Lettice doesn’t answer, but the guilty look she momentarily gives Gerald coyly before looking away in shame speaks loudly enough for her.
“I never took you for a silly, jealous type, Lettice darling, yet here you are, jealous of two women in one night.”
“I’m not,” Lettice replies guiltily. “Usually.”
“Well, you have nothing to fear from Hattie.” He looks at her earnestly. “It is true that I do love Hattie, and I enjoy her company immensely. She’s great fun and easy to get along with. However, she doesn’t have the shared experience of growing up together that you and I have, Lettice darling. She will never understand the little quirks and language that we share, and nor do I want her to. Hattie is just another friend: a very good friend I hope.” He reaches out his hand to Lettice’s as it dangles limply from her seat. “I can be myself with Hattie, just like I can with you, and you know how precious that is in this unforgiving world of ours,” He looks meaningfully at Lettice. “But you are my best friend, Lettice. You always will be.”
“Really?” Lettice asks meekly.
“Of course! Unless you keep on carrying on like some silly, jealous upper-class snob!”
Lettice feels suitably reprimanded as she sits uncomfortably in her own tub chair, emotionally exposed under the scruitinising gaze of her dearest friend.
“You were the levelling one of the two of us when you first introduced me to Mrs. Hatchett. You said to me that in spite of her upbringing and background, that she was a good and a worthy person and that I shouldn’t be such a snob.”
“I did.”
“Well, isn’t Hattie the same? Like Mrs. Hatchett, she is a bit gauche in that up-and-coming middle-class kind of way. Although to be fair to her, unlike Mrs. Hatchett, she hasn’t had that much of a life to know what is gauche and what is not. Her mother died many years ago, and from what I can gather, her father was a very strict, Victorian man, so Harriet was given little freedom to express her own ideas or experience the world. Now life is like a giant buffet for her, and she doesn’t know what to eat first, or know that she should eat her first course before her second, rather than the reverse way around. She could benefit from a few, more experienced pairs of hands guiding her.”
“Are you suggesting that Miss Milford and I should be friends, Gerald?”
“No,” Gerald admits. “I don’t think you are ever likely to be bosom friends*******, and I believe that you have intimated as much to her on a previous occasion.”
“Does she tell you everything, Gerald darling?” Lettice exclaims.
“Fairly much.” He smiles cheekily.
“I must remember whatever I say to her may not be sacrosanct.”
“Undoubtedly it won’t be, darling.” Gerald assures her without any remorse. “Anyway, even if you aren’t bosom friends, you might at least be a little kinder to Hattie, and certainly less of a prig. Even if you don’t do it for her, do it for me, because she is my friend and I care for her deeply, and you care for me deeply.”
“Well, I can hardly argue with that reasoning, can I?”
“You know, I’m surprised at your behaviour, Lettice.”
“Why? You get jealous too. Tell me that you weren’t even a little bit jealous of Arabella when she and Leslie announced their marriage?”
“Well of course I was jealous of her!” Gerald admits readily. “I have a horrible green monster that lies not too far beneath the surface of my shallow self, darling. I am jealous of Arabella because she snagged the Chetwynd with the looks whom I desired. I’m jealous of Roland, because as the eldest son, he seems to be completely beyond contempt for any of the scandals he creates, whereas Father punishes me for even the smallest misdemeanour. I’m jealous whenever I see another man look so much as sideways at Cyril across the crowded floor of a molly-house********. Hell, I’m even jealous of you sometimes, Lettice.”
“Of me?” Lettice gasps, raising a hand to her chest.
“Of course, of you, you silly thing.” Gerald replies, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world for Lettice to know.
“Why are you jealous of me? It surely can’t be because of my looks. You’re every bit as handsome as I am pretty. As a woman, I am bound by strictures imposed upon me by my family, my place in society and my very sex since birth about what I can or can’t do, where I go and with whom.”
“Look at our lives, darling!” Gerald exclaims in exasperation. “You have money in the bank, or indeed money to burn. I on the other hand rely on the largess of friends and live on a pittance, throwing every spare penny I can make back into my business. If your business were to falter, you’d be fine, perhaps suffering the gloating of the likes of Sadie who would goad you with ‘I told you sos’ and ‘I knew she couldn’t do it’, but you would survive. As for me, if my fashion house folds, I’m ruined. I have nothing whatever to fall back on, and I would have creditors going unpaid who would hunt me down, or hound me until I am dead. I could end up in debtors’ prison. And thinking of prison,” he goes on seriously. “Regardless of the societal restrictions you are faced with, at least you and Selwyn can be seen in public together as a couple. Cyril and I can’t. I’m not Ned Warren*********, so I have no fortune to keep the gossiping staff well below stairs.”
“Thinking of which, I had dinner with Selwyn a few weeks ago, and he asked me if you had a Gaiety Girl********** hidden away somewhere.”
“I hope you didn’t disabuse him of that idea.”
“I most certainly did!” Lettice defends. “I wasn’t going to lie to him.” It is only when the colour drains from Gerald’s face does she realise the mistake her words have led him to make and she quickly adds. “Oh, not about Cyril, darling! I didn’t tell him about Cyril! I’m not that brainless, even if I can be a snob.” She smiles as she sees the relief in his face. “No, he asked me why you hadn’t been to your club for a while, and thought it might be because you had a chorus girl to amuse you more so than he and the other club members might. I simply told him that you were engaged in business and that was what took up your time.”
“Well, that isn’t entirely untrue.”
“Listen Gerald,” Lettice says seriously, looking her friend directly in the eyes. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
“A deal?” Gerald’s eyebrows arch over his glittering eyes, a smirk causing the edges of his mouth to turn upwards at the end.
“I’m serious, Gerald.”
“Alight! Alright!” Gerald drops his needle and holds his hands up in defeat. “No frivolousness.”
“I will try and be nicer, and less jealous of Harriet. I’ll even try to help her.”
“Oh, thank you, Lettice darling.”
“But” Lettice wags her finger warningly at Gerald. “Only if you will promise me that you’ll be careful to be discreet with Cyril.”
“I’m always discreet, Lettice darling!” Gerald assures her.
“I know you are, Gerald darling,” Lettice replies. “But in my few brief meetings with him, it seems to me that Cyril sometimes is not, and I worry for both of you.”
Gerald observes the look of concern that clouds his best friend’s face.
“I promise I’ll be discreet enough for both of us.” He holds up his glass and Lettice and Gerald click champagne flutes in agreement to both the agreements they have made.
*A Peter Pan collar is a style of clothing collar, flat in design with rounded corners. It is named after the collar of Maude Adams's costume in her 1905 role as Peter Pan, although similar styles had been worn before this date. Peter Pan collars were particularly fashionable during the 1920s and 1930s.
**Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, as she was known at the beginning of 1923 when this story is set, went on to become Queen of the United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952 as the wife of King George VI. Whilst still Duke of York, Prince Albert initially proposed to Elizabeth in 1921, but she turned him down, being "afraid never, never again to be free to think, speak and act as I feel I really ought to". He proposed again in 1922 after Elizabeth was part of his sister, Mary the Princess Royal’s, wedding party, but she refused him again. On Saturday, January 13th, 1923, Prince Albert went for a walk with Elizabeth at the Bowes-Lyon home at St Paul’s, Walden Bury and proposed for a third and final time. This time she said yes. The wedding took place on April 26, 1923 at Westminster Abbey.
***Prince Albert, Duke of York, known by the diminutive “Bertie” to the family and close friends, was the second son of George V. He was never expected to become King, but came to the throne after his elder brother David, the Prince of Wales, abdicated in 1936 so that he could marry the love of his life American divorcée, Wallis Simpson. Although not schooled in being a ruler, Bertie, who styled himself as George VI as a continuation of his father, became King of United Kingdom and the Dominions from 1936 to 1952, and saw Britain through some of its darkest days, becoming one of the most popular monarchs in British history.
****Bottle parties, a private party to which each guest brings their own liquor, came into vogue during the 1920s and 30s initially especially after prohibition in America and liquor licence restrictions in Britain.
*****Originating out of America during the 1920s the banjo quickly gained popularity in Britain too because it was reasonably cheap as an instrument, portable, easy to learn on and musical duelling matches were played like draughts or chess.
******Morris Motors Limited was a privately owned British motor vehicle manufacturing company established in 1919. With a reputation for producing high-quality cars and a policy of cutting prices, Morris's business continued to grow and increase its share of the British market. By 1926 its production represented forty-two per cent of British car manufacturing. Amongst their more popular range was the Morris Cowley which included a four-seat tourer which was first released in 1920.
*******The term bosom friend is recorded as far back as the late Sixteenth Century. In those days, the bosom referred to the chest as the seat of deep emotions, though now the word usually means a woman's “chest.” A bosom friend, then, is one you might share these deep feelings with or have deep feelings for.
********A molly-house was a term used in Eighteenth, Nineteenth and early Twentieth-century Britain for a meeting place for homosexual men. The meeting places were generally taverns, public houses, or coffeehouses known to be regular haunts of such men, or even private rooms. Molly-houses were places where men could either socialise or meet possible sexual partners. Although the gathering of homosexual men was not strictly illegal, the act of homosexual acts between men was, which made molly-houses dangerous for men should there be a police raid.
*********Edward Perry Warren, known as Ned Warren, was an American art collector and the author of works proposing an idealized view of homosexual relationships. He is now best known as the former owner of the Warren Cup in the British Museum.
**********Gaiety Girls were the chorus girls in Edwardian musical comedies, beginning in the 1890s at the Gaiety Theatre, London, in the shows produced by George Edwardes.
This 1920s upper-class drawing room is different to what you may think at first glance, for it is made up entirely of 1:12 size dollhouse miniatures from my miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
Gerald’s magnificent sewing box with its mirrored lid, silver and russet brocade padding and russet trimming, and ball feet is a 1:12 artisan miniature. It’s interior is full of sewing paraphernalia. Made by an unknown artisan, it came from Kathleen Knight’s Dolls House Shop in the United Kingdom.
The embroidered collar for Lettice’s royal wedding outfit that Gerald has been working on is actually a piece of beautiful scalloped ribbon that was given to me at Christmas time by a very close friend of mine. The silver dressmaking scissors on top of it came from an online stockist of miniatures on E-Bay.
The newspaper sitting underneath the collar featuring an image of Elizabeth Bowes-Lyon, the future Queen Elizabeth and one day Queen Mother, is a copy of a real Daily Mail newspaper from 1923 and was produced to high standards in 1:12 by Little Things Dollhouse Miniatures in Lancashire.
The champagne flutes that are filled with glittering golden yellow champagne were made by Karen Ladybug Miniatures in the United Kingdom.
The brass wireless in the background, which is remarkably heavy for its size, comes from Melody Jane’s Doll House Supplies in the United Kingdom.
Lettice’s drawing room is furnished with beautiful J.B.M. miniatures. The Art Deco tub chairs are of black japanned wood and have removable cushions, just like their life sized examples. To the left of the fireplace is a Hepplewhite drop-drawer bureau and chair of black japanned wood which has been hand painted with chinoiserie designs, even down the legs and inside the bureau. The chair set has a rattan seat, which has also been hand woven. To the right of the fireplace is a Chippendale cabinet which has also been decorated with chinoiserie designs. It also features very ornate metalwork hinges and locks.
The fireplace is a 1:12 miniature resin Art Deco fireplace which is flanked by brass accessories including an ash brush with real bristles.
The carpet beneath the furniture is a copy of a popular 1920s style Chinese silk rug, and the geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, which inspired the whole “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.
