It was bigger and more chaotic than Amanda had imagined and it was also filled with very musty old air that she was sure she could have chewed through.
She pushed through the mess to a window, opened the latch and pushed but it was stuck. She banged on the frame with her hand and heard the window loosen and then it slid up with some noisy protestation.
‘Thank God,’ Amanda said to herself as she surveyed the scene.
She could handle mess – her mother was messy – but to organise it, that was a bigger process.
The side of some of the tea chests had the wordbookswritten on them. Other ones readchina. Another readmiscand many were unlabelled.
Amanda lifted an old leather suitcase on top of one of the chests and opened the clasps.
Lifting the lid, she found a men’s dinner suit, with several shirts and ties. There were some dress shoes – worn but well looked after – and a number of pairs of braces.
She closed the case back up and put it to the side.
Amanda decided she would organise into four piles.
Keep.
Go through with Diana.
Charity shop.
Throw out.
The next case was larger and was filled with dresses from the 1960s or maybe earlier. Many were from brands Amanda didn’t know, but they were lovely and still in tissue paper. It was obvious they had been carefully put away by someone.
Amanda looked at each one, fascinated by the detail and stitching. They were so beautiful, she thought and she held up a peach georgette one, with a bow on one shoulder.
It was gorgeous and she laid it on the case and took a photo of it and the label, then sent it to Lainie.
Divine. Cocktail dress. You could get a lot of money for it online.
Amanda kept sending pictures of the dresses and Lainie sent back similar ones online for more money than Amanda had imagined they would be worth. Lainie texted back:
You’re sitting on a month’s rent in New York, baby
Amanda put the suitcase to the side to go through with Diana. Despite Diana’s insistence that all of it was hers now, she would never dream of selling or getting rid of anything without Diana’s approval, and it would be nice to talk to Diana about them and where she wore them. The memories that came with the dresses would no doubt make them even more beautiful and fascinating.
There were more dresses in cases, some older, perhaps from Diana’s mother, more matronly but always excellent quality.
There was a trunk of hats, which Amanda adored. The silk shone when she turned the hat, and the brim was stiff and proud. She texted Simon a photo of a black top hat in perfect condition on her head at a rakish angle.
My new gardening hat?
You look fantastic. You should wear it all the time, not just in the garden.
Amanda giggled as she kept exploring.
There were coats, so many coats, she thought as she put them to one side.
A few broken shoes – she wasn’t sure why they were being kept – and sadly, a box of knits that some moths had feasted on. A pile of newspapers, which she thought were a fire hazard and so made a note to ask Simon to come and get rid of them for her.
The various piles were growing, and she wondered if she should take a break when she spotted a cream suitcase, smaller than the others and more feminine. Probably Diana’s, she thought with a smile as she put it up on the chest to open it.
She clicked the latches and opened it up.
Inside she found a number of dresses, nightgowns and slippers.
