In charge of the operation was Madame Guillemin, a slim woman of about fifty in a shirtwaist dress with a chic little matching jacket. She had spectacles on the end of her nose and a measuring tape around her neck, and she spoke to them in perfect French with a Parisian accent. “As you know, French clothes are distinctively different from British clothes. I won’t say they are more stylish, but, you know, they are… more stylish.” She gave a French shrug, and the girls laughed.
It was not just a question of style, Flick thought somberly: French jackets were normally about ten inches longer than British, and there were numerous differences of detail, any of which could be the fatal clue that betrayed an agent. So all the clothes here had been bought in France, exchanged with refugees for new British clothes, or faithfully copied from French originals, then worn for a while so that they would not look new.
“Now it is summer so we have cotton dresses, light wool suits, and shower proof coats.” She waved a hand at two young women sitting at sewing machines. “My assistants will make alterations if the clothes don’t fit quite perfectly.”
Flick said, “We need clothes that are fairly expensive, but well worn. I want us to look like respectable women in case we’re questioned by the Gestapo.” When they needed to pose as cleaners, they could quickly downgrade their appearance by taking off their hats, gloves, and belts.
Madame Guillemin began with Ruby. She looked hard at her for a minute, then picked from the rack a navy dress and a tan raincoat. “Try those. It’s a man’s coat, but in France today no one can afford to be particular.” She pointed across the room. “You can change behind that screen if you wish, and for the very shy there is a little anteroom behind the desk. We think the owner of the house used to lock himself in there to read dirty books.” They laughed again, all but Flick, who had heard Madame Guillemin’s jokes before.
The seamstress looked hard at Greta, then moved on, saying, “I’ll come back to you.” She picked outfits for Jelly, Diana, and Maude, and they all went behind the screen. Then she turned to Flick and said in a low voice, “Is this a joke?”
“Why do you say that?”
She turned to Greta. “You’re a man.”
Flick gave a grunt of frustration and turned away. The seamstress had seen through Greta’s disguise in seconds. It was a bad omen.
Madame added, “You might fool a lot of people, but not me. I can tell.”
Greta said, “How?”
Madame Guillemin shrugged. “The proportions are all wrong-your shoulders are too broad, your hips too narrow, your legs too muscular, your hands too big-it’s obvious to an expert.”
Flick said irritably, “She has to be a woman, for this mission, so please dress her as best you can.”
“Of course-but for God’s sake, try not to let her be seen by a dressmaker.”
“No problem. The Gestapo don’t employ many of those.” Flick’s confidence was faked. She did not want Madame Guillemin to know how worried she was.
The seamstress looked again at Greta. “I’ll give you a contrasting skirt and blouse, to reduce your height, and a three-quarter-length coat.” She selected clothes and handed them to Greta.
Greta looked at them with disapproval. Her taste ran to more glamorous outfits. However, she did not complain. “I’m going to be shy and lock myself in the anteroom,” she said.
Finally Madame gave Flick an apple-green dress with a matching coat. “The color shows off your eyes,” she said. “As long as you’re not ostentatious, why shouldn’t you look pretty? It may help you charm your way out of trouble.”
The dress was loose and looked like a tent on Flick, but she put on a leather belt to give it a waist. “You are so chic, just like a French girl,” said Madame Guillemin. Flick did not tell her that the main purpose of the belt was to hold a gun.
They all put on their new clothes and paraded around the room, preening and giggling. Madame Guillemin had chosen well, and they liked what they had been given, but some of the garments needed adjusting. “While we are making alterations you can choose some accessories,” Madame said.