Read The Dress for Free Online Page B

have the forename Frank. Lily knew this and yet when she tried to sleep on the night of her grandfather’s funeral the name Frank Fitzpatrick kept dancing around in her brain with a bunch of what-ifs? What if the woman in the Vogue picture was married to Old Joe’s brother? What if Lily had a whole family in America just waiting to be discovered? The possibilities this shadowy uncle threw up were just so thrilling Lily could not get them out of her head.
    She kept telling herself to go to sleep, that it was silly to even think about being related to this random person she had seen in a magazine clipping. Yet the mystery of it was driving her mad.
    At 5 a.m. she got out of bed and rang her father’s mobile.
    â€˜What’s wrong?’ Patrick said, his voice thick with sleep and shades of panic.
    â€˜Nothing’s wrong. Oh, sorry, did I wake you, Dad? I just wanted to ask you something...’
    â€˜What time is it? Jesus Christ, Lily, it’s five o’clock in the morning!’
    â€˜Do you know the name of the woman your Uncle Frank married in America?’
    â€˜For God’s sake, what kind of a question is...’ Then Patrick realized he was too exhausted from the grief and drink of the day before even to question his daughter, never mind fight with her. Vaguely a name began to filter through. ‘Joyce? Josephine? No...’
    â€˜Joy?’
    â€˜Joy, yes. Yes, that was it.’
    Lily could hardly believe it. ‘Are you sure?’
    â€˜Yes, yes, I’m sure that was it. When I was a lad, Mam saw something in a magazine and I remember them talking about it. Your grandad went crazy. He and Frank didn’t talk. It was the one time his brother was ever mentioned in our house. That’s why I remember the name. Joy.’
    Lily punched the air.
    â€˜Is that it? Can I go back to sleep now?’
    â€˜Yes, Dad... Thanks, Dad.’
    Straight away Lily switched on her computer. She made herself a pot of strong tea in her favourite art-deco teapot, pulled on her silk 1920s robe to bring her luck and set about finding her family in America.
    Lily registered on Ancestry.com, typing in all she knew about him, which was that Frank was from Bangor, County Mayo, Ireland and had left Ireland sometime after 1935, the year her grandfather went into the orphanage. Quickly, she found fifteen Francis Fitzpatricks from Bangor who had sailed to New York City in the years 1935–1945. One of them would have been her great-uncle, but there was no way of telling which one. In any case, apart from the fact that his wife’s name was Joy, Lily had no other information about the man. No address, no offspring, no place of work. She googled their names along with some leads from the Vogue piece, but nothing came up. Lily was afraid she had reached a dead end and was about to call it a day when, trawling through a heritage chatroom, she discovered a day-old posting from a woman called Maisie Fitzpatrick in Wisconsin: My aunt, Joy Fitzpatrick, was a wealthy, stylish woman living in New York all through the 1950s. I would love to find out more about this side of my family. Picture on request .
    Lily was beside herself. Wealthy? Stylish? That sounded like her Joy. She replied to the thread and attached her blog email address for them to reply to. This could be it!
    Lily was longing just to sit and wait for a reply to pop up on screen but she had an afternoon date with Sally. As a sort of good luck talisman, she printed out the Vogue article and put it in her bag. It was the middle of the night in Wisconsin now. The woman would still be in bed, but when she got up and checked her email, Lily would be waiting for her. In the meantime, she would just have to get on with her day.
    *
    Sally had persuaded Lily to come along to a fashion show that afternoon. Sally’s employer, the high street chain and catalogue retailer, Scott’s, was having a glitzy show in a warehouse in Shoreditch, at the