Free A War of Flowers (2014) by Jane Thynne

since, had etched hard lines on Steffi’s face, yet she was still a beautiful woman in
her mid-thirties, petite, with dark blonde hair, sharp, elegant cheekbones and eyes of violet blue. Her talents as a dressmaker had won her steady work from the costume department of the Ufa
studios, until the Aryanization measures introduced by Goebbels outlawed Jews from working there. As a Jew on her mother’s side, Steffi was barred from working in any part of the Reich
Chamber of Culture and now the commissions she had from society women were drying up too.
    She stretched the cornflower-blue cotton for Clara’s dress between thumb and forefinger.
    ‘It’s hard enough to get the material with this textile shortage, so I can’t think why you want to spoil it by making it look like a dirndl,’ she said, curling her lip at
the square, low-cut neckline. ‘It’s not your style at all. You always prefer something elegant.’
    ‘It’s not a dirndl. It’s just a little lace at the neck. Besides, I’m going to be working in Munich. They like things a little more traditional down there.’
    ‘Well, I’ve done my best to give this dress a Marlene Dietrich twist.’
    Steffi made the final stitch on the hem and began to fold the dress up.
    ‘Thank you, Steffi. And for the lovely green silk dress. You’ll never guess – I meant to tell you – I wore it to the salon of Coco Chanel.’
    Steffi Schaeffer widened her eyes and laughed, displaying even, white teeth. ‘Coco Chanel saw my work! I can’t believe it! I would have loved to have been there. Perhaps she could
give me some commissions!’
    ‘I assume things are getting worse?’
    Steffi shrugged. ‘Of course. Most of my regular customers are going elsewhere now. On the other hand, in the past few weeks I’ve found a new income stream.’
    Clara tilted an inquisitive head and Steffi hesitated, obeying a deep, instinctive caution, until their eyes met and she confessed, ‘It’s a new type of tailoring I’m doing.
Since the latest announcement.’
    ‘Which one is that?’
    Since the introduction of the Nuremberg laws three years ago, the lives of Jews in Germany had grown ever more circumscribed. They were no longer allowed to marry gentiles, or even call
themselves citizens. In recent months, however, the daily stream of restrictions had gathered pace. Almost every day there would be a fresh encroachment on Jewish freedom announced in the upper
right-hand side of the newspaper front pages. Jews could no longer practise medicine or law. They could not hold bank accounts. Their cars were issued with Jewish licence plates and all too often
Jews with cars were called to report to the police station and when they were released, their cars remained in custody. Just that week Jews had been told they would all be photographed and
fingerprinted and issued with new ID cards.
    The escalation in tension was visible everywhere. In June shops with Jewish owners had been freshly plastered with smears of ‘Jew’ all over the walls and doors, shop fronts smashed
and shopkeepers forced to pick up the glass of their smashed windows with their own bleeding hands. Restaurants known to admit Jews were raided and their customers taken away in Gestapo trucks.
    ‘This month all non-Aryans had letters ordering them to give up their jewellery to the state. They have to take everything to the nearest police station and hand it over. Can you believe
it? The thieves! My friend asked for a receipt and the cop said, “What do you want a receipt for? You won’t be seeing these again in your lifetime”.’
    ‘So what’s this new tailoring you’re doing?’
    ‘Simple.’ Steffi walked across to a tailor’s dummy on which hung a coat of checked tweed and drew it back to reveal the lining.
    ‘You know how we sometimes put pfennigs in the lining? So it hangs properly? Well, this time it’s not pfennigs. It’s a little more valuable.’
    She ran her neat, painted fingernails down the