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Fashionable Life in Aquila: Greywoods

It was early morning some three weeks after the arrival of the Gloria and her grandchildren at Greywood House. The children were home once more, but breakfasting in the seclusion of the nursery. Olivia, Lady Greywood, was the first down to breakfast, and even considering the earliness of the hour, she was already hard at work, for she had a large account book open beside her plate of fruit, and was studying the figures with unrelieved gloom as she read.

It was Vivien, surprisingly, who came down next. During the few weeks she had been a guest at Greywood House, Vivien had not proven to be a particularly early riser, but this morning she was down with a sprightly step and not a single yawn.

She was wearing a fantastic morning dress of palest malachite green and a delicate string of pearls. The classic but vaguely assymetrical lines of the dress proclaimed it one of Vivien's own creations.

She took a seat next to Olivia with a smile. "Good morning." And she actually sounded as if she thought it was.

Olivia looked up and smiled - but it was clear that she was a little distracted. "I'm sorry," she said apologetically. "These accounts ... we had to go so far over our budget during the influenza epidemic! I'm not quite sure what I'm going to say to the trustees."

Another figure appeared in the doorway from the opposite direction of the bedrooms. It was the rounded form of the eldest Greywood, Gloria. She was draped in a buttery yellow dress with a blue stone brooch pinned at her neck.

"Good morning, ladies," her warm voice almost sang. "I thought I heard someone else awake."

As she settled down in her own seat, she addressed her hostess, "Lady Greywood, why burden yourself so much without even a breakfast in you?"

Vivien smiled, as she usually did when Gloria mothered someone other than her. Then her expression smoothed and she put her head to one side, and spoke slowly, thinking aloud. "I heard about the epidemic, Aunt Olivia... It's awful... And you're over budget because of it? What we need is a charity ball... Or... what about a fashion show? All proceeds to the hospital and... a relief fund? We could help out and at the same time have a good time? Remind people that it isn't all gloom and doom?"

"We could," said Olivia. "Ethan would welcome it, I think ... trade has been down since the start of the outbreak ... apart, I'm afraid, from mourning wear. Something altogether more cheerful ...

"But ... how could we organise it? I'm up to my eyes at the hospital as it is ... "

"Um... well, maybe Nana and I could organize it for you," Vivien said. "And Liev if he'd like to... It's not really... I mean I've done balls before, but nothing near this size... perhaps you or Uncle Ethan could put together a list of the people who ought to be invited personally... I don't know if we ought to have it open to the public or not... but certainly we should send some nice-looking notes to the people with the most money... so they'll be more likely to come and be generous..."

Olivia was looking thoughtful. "I could see it benefitting the hospital ... and Ethan's products. But it would be a large event ... and you lack the contacts ... "

She frowned, considering, then nodded. "I think it would be a good idea to ask Aunt Rosalor ... Lady Bahlmis. She regularly hosts salons at Bahlmis House, so she will be well positioned to give advice ... and might even be able to suggest people who might usefully become involved. I could set you both down at Bahlmis House and introduce you on the way to the hospital."

Gloria listened while she chased her eggs and meat around the plate with a piece of toast. Was it only ten years ago that Vivien would come running to her room to share her little sketches and the latest designs for her dolls? Now here she was proposing an affair in the capital city of Aquila! She briefly looked skyward, thanking God in silent prayer for another blessing, until she finally absorbed the significance what Olivia said.

"Lady Bahlmis?! Oh my! If I knew we were going to have an audience with her, I would have done something with my hair this morning."

Gloria kept her white hair short, and it was straight by nature. She liked to curl and style it for occasions, though the stiffness in her hands meant she needed more help and therefore did it less frequently. Her formal wigs were in storage with Vivien's and Liev's parents. She tsk'ed at herself for not packing one in her trunk.

"You mean we can just drop by Bahlmis House like that?" Gloria asked.

Olivia, who had once been in the position of the daughter of the House, hesitated. Aunt Rosalor would be delighted to see her, she was sure ... but perhaps she would appreciate some warning. "I'll send a footman with a note," she said. "Then I'll catch up on paperwork here at home till he gets back." She sighed. "There's always plenty of paperwork to catch up on ..."

"Then I will have time to look presentable," Gloria said cheerfully. She waved to Ariel and asked to have someone meet her in her rooms to help. "It'll probably take me half an hour to finish and get there, so no hurry, dear," she called after the servant.

Vivien put down her toast and considered. "And I can freshen up and then perhaps grab a few of my drawings, to show what I mean by fashion show... I'll model a few of them, but I'll need some other models as well... perhaps you know some young ladies... and gentlemen... who wouldn't mind championing a new style for a cause, Aunt Olivia?"

"We'll have to see if Aunt Rosalor has any suggestions," said Olivia. "She knows more of the young ladies of Aquila - she still keeps up her academic acquaintances ... and there are always young ladies at her salons. I tend to know only those with a taste for nursing - and they may not make the best models."

Liev entered the kitchen with his attention locked on the pad he held in one hand, a stub of pencil in the other sketching out formulaes. He had spent the last few weeks trying to familiarize himself with the operation of the family business, working day and night shifts at the various factories and warehouses. His simple cotton shirt was glued to his body front and back by the sweat of his labour, his long black hair tied back with a kerchief.

His time at the Jesuit retreat had strengthened his body and with time he had come to enjoy the simple pleasures of physical labour. However, he had not been prepared for the mental aspect of factory work, the numbing tedium of operating the loom or acting as a cog in a chain of workers tossing endless bales of wool and hemp from wagon to storage bin.

It was challenging, at first, to learn a new task. But with time the novelty faded and the unvarying physical motions tempted his mind to wander, tracing out blue prints revising the plant layout or charting a graph of raw materiel cost versus profit. As a result he had suffered a number of minor cuts and bruises.

The other workers had been suspicious at first, a member of the Family working was immediately suspected of spying. But Liev's gentle manner and enthusiasm for any new task, and his tendency to volunteer for even the most menial work, had begun to win them over.

Unfortunately, Liev was finding the business analysis more challenging than he had initially expected. Many of the factors he took for granted in the open capitalist market he had mastered working for the zaibatsu did not apply, or took strange turns in the closed, almost feudal, Aquilan economy.

During his off hours he continued to chart the historical cost of raw materiel, hoping to develop a method to optimize purchasing. Liev was hesitant to bring it forward to his uncle until the model incorporated all the variables he could chart, and it had proven itself through alpha and beta testing.

Liev had already approached his uncle with a number of proposed innovations. All of which had been soundly, though good naturedly, rejected by the elder Graywood. The changes in plant lay out and structure of the work shifts had all shown increased efficiency on paper.

But, as his uncle pointed out, did not take into account the shut down time needed to implement the change and re-train the workers (a non-issue in the lightspeed, cyber world Liev was used to) or the effects on the workers' families.

Noticing the gathered women, Liev straightens up and tucks the pad behind his belt at the small of his back. "Ladies, sorry I didn't realize you would be..." Looking down at his sweat stained tunic, he interjects. "Uhm, working but still I could have bathed at the ..."

"Bahlmis House? Are we socializing?"

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