“A captivating story about the power of friendship . . . More than a novel, it is a recipe for happiness.”—Anne Fortier, New York Times bestselling author of Juliet Every dress has a history. And so does every woman. Phoebe Swift’s friends are stunned when she abruptly leaves a plum job to open her own vintage clothing shop in London—but to Phoebe, it’s the fulfillment of a dream, and her passion. Digging for finds in attics and wardrobes, Phoebe knows that when you buy a piece of vintage clothing, you’re not just buying fabric and thread—you’re buying a piece of someone’s past. But one particular article of clothing will soon unexpectedly change her life. Thérèse Bell, an elderly Frenchwoman, has an impressive clothing collection. But among the array of elegant suits and couture gowns, Phoebe finds a child’s sky-blue coat—an item with which Mrs. Bell is stubbornly reluctant to part. As the two women become friends, Phoebe will learn the poignant tale of that little blue coat. And she will discover an astonishing connection between herself and Thérèse Bell—one that will help her heal the pain of her own past and allow her to love again. Praise for A Vintage Affair “Romantic and sumptuous, this is a must for fans of vintage dresses and vintage romance.” —Hester Browne, author of The Little Lady Agency “This colorful new novel has something for everyone. There is mystery, romance, great characters, as well as London and France.” — Naples Daily News “Deftly blends past and present, romance and mystery, and a theme of forgiveness and redemption.” —Mary Kincaid, HuffPost “A captivating story about the power of friendship . . . More than a novel, it is a recipe for happiness.” — Anne Fortier, New York Times bestselling author of Juliet “Romantic and sumptuous, this is a must for fans of vintage dresses and vintage romance.”—Hester Browne, author of The Little Lady Agency   “This colorful new novel has something for everyone. There is mystery, romance, great characters, as well as London and France.”— Naples Daily News   “Deftly blends past and present, romance and mystery, and a theme of forgiveness and redemption.” — Mary Kincaid, The Huffington Post Isabel Wolff was born in Warwickshire, England, and attended Cambridge University. She is the author of seven bestselling novels, which have been published in twenty-five languages. She lives in London with her family. Bantam Books will publish her next novel in 2011. Chapter One September is at least a good time for a new start, I reflected as I left the house early this morning. I've always felt a greater sense of renewal at the beginning of September than I ever have in January. Perhaps, I thought as I crossed Tranquil Vale, it's because September so often feels fresh and clear after the dankness of August. Or perhaps, I wondered as I passed Blackheath Books, its windows emblazoned with Back to School promotions, it's simply the association with the new academic year. As I walked up the hill towards the Heath, the freshly painted fascia of Village Vintage came into view and I allowed myself a brief burst of optimism. I unlocked the door, picked the mail up off the mat, and began preparing the shop for its official launch. I worked nonstop until four, selecting the clothes from the stockroom upstairs and putting them out on the racks. As I draped a 1920s tea dress over my arm I ran my hand over its heavy silk satin, then fingered its intricate beading and its perfect hand stitching. This, I told myself, is what I love about vintage clothes. I love their beautiful fabric and their fine finish. I love knowing that so much skill and artistry have gone into their making. I glanced at my watch. Only two hours to go until the party. I remembered that I'd forgotten to chill the champagne. As I dashed into the little kitchen and ripped open the cases I wondered how many people would come. I'd invited a hundred, so I'd need at least seventy glasses at the ready. I stacked the bottles in the fridge, turned it up to Frost, then made myself a quick cup of tea. Sipping my Earl Grey, I looked around the shop, allowing myself to savour for a moment the transition from pipe dream to reality. The interior of Village Vintage looked modern and light. I'd had the wooden floors stripped and limed, the walls painted a dove grey and hung with large silver-framed mirrors; there were glossy potted plants on chrome stands, a spangling of downlights on the white- painted ceiling, and next to the fitting room, a large cream- upholstered bergère sofa. Through the windows, Blackheath stretched into the far distance, the sky a giddying vault of blue patched with towering white clouds. Beyond the church, two yellow kites danced in the breeze while on the horizon the glass towers of Canary Wharf glinted and flashed in the late-afternoon sunlight. I suddenly realised that the journalist who was supposed to be interviewing me was over an hour late. I did