In the Still of the Night

alterations in my room above the shop. Must make ends meet, you know. I have the perfect hat for you. Two or three, in fact.”
    Phoebe lifted the flap of the counter and came around and dragged Lily over to a dressing table with three mirrors, tilted in such a way that a customer could examine how a hat looked from all angles.
    “I’m not really shopping,“ Lily said, loath to admit that she couldn’t afford a new hat. “I’m just waiting for the crowd to clear at the butcher’s and I’ve been anxious to meet you.“
    “The ptomaine pork chops? Even I wouldn’t eat them. Don’t worry. You don’t have to buy a hat. It’s a slow season and I welcome the company. Be right back.”
    A moment later, Miss Twinkle reemerged from the back room with an armload of hat boxes. The hats were, to Lily’s surprise, very beautiful and stylish. “They’re gorgeous!“ Lily exclaimed. “Where did you learn to do this?“
    “I used to work in a very fancy shop in Chicago. But my aunt, the only family I had left, became ill and I came back here to Voorburg to care for her. Bless her memory. Poor as a church mouse, but the dearest old thing in the world. I thought I might as well stay here and set up my own shop. That was in early 1929. I had no idea then what was going to happen later in the year. My aunt died the day of the Crash.“
    “So did my father,“ Lily said, then wished she hadn’t. “Is your last name really Twinkle?“ she asked to change the subject.
    “In a way,“ Phoebe said, adjusting a floppy-brimmed straw hat with gauzy trim to a more flattering angle on Lily’s head. “My great-great grandfather came here from Amsterdam with a name that not even the other Dutch could spell or pronounce. It must have sounded a bit like ‘twinkle’ so he just let himself be called that. This hat is really you.”
    Lily was spared answering by the little bell on the front door jangling. A terribly thin, smiling woman poked her head in the shop. “Phoebe, dear, Mrs. Cox’s flour sifter is jammed and I thought I’d just slip upstairs and take the one I left behind here. I told Mrs. Cox you wouldn’t mind a bit since you don’t do any baking to speak of.”
    And she was gone.
    Phoebe shoved her hands into her hair, seriously disarranging it, and made a little growling noise. “My landlady. Mrs. Gelhaus. She’ll drive me utterly mad someday.“
    “Why is she taking things from your room?“
    “Because it used to be hers. Hers and her husband’s. This was a bakery and when Mr. Gelhaus died, she went to live with her widowed sister-in-law, Mrs. Cox, and rented the shop and the room upstairs to me. Fully furnished. Then. Not anymore.
    “She drops in at least once a week to take away one little thing or another she’s decided she needs. There used to be three sets of sheets, now there’s only one. Three of the four chairs have disappeared as well. I live by myself so she assumes I can’t sit in more than one at a time and Mrs. Cox needle- pointed the seat covers and so dearly wanted to have them as extras for bridge parties.“ She said this in exact imitation of Mrs. Gelhaus’s chirpy voice.
    Phoebe drew a long breath and said, “I shouldn’t complain.“
    “You certainly should!“ Lily said. “Or take something off the rent you pay.“
    “I can’t. She was my aunt’s best friend and I really don’t want to get into a tiff with her.”
    The bell jangled again. Mrs. Gelhaus was back. In one hand she had the flour sifter, in the other, she had a little wooden box with drawers. “Phoebe, I’m taking this tiny chest as well. Mrs. Cox has been dying to have something to put her spices in. She’s such a good cook, you know. And you only had a couple spools of thread it in. I put them on the mantel for you. Goodbye, dear.”
    Phoebe looked like she needed to go have a good cry.
    Lily rose and said, “I’m sorry, I must go. I’ll come back again though. Thank you so much, Miss Twinkle, for showing me these lovely hats. I’m going to be having guests soon and I’ll make sure the ladies come here.“
    “Thank you, Miss Brewster,“ Phoebe said, her voice shaking.
    Lily ran over to the butcher’s, where the crowd had dispersed when the shop ran out of the terrible pork chops. She picked up the overlooked items from Mrs. Prinney’s shopping list and went outside just as Robert showed up. Lily threw the packages in and said, “Don’t start home yet. I need to talk to you.”
    Ten minutes