given the high quality of what they had to sell. Eleanor was knowledgeable about the periods the pieces had been made in, had researched their provenance carefully, and their makers, and even found some of her mother’s records on it. And Alex was interested in learning more about it. He loved the history of what they sold and who had owned it, or which French and British royals and aristocrats it had been made for, at what time.
They added a decorating component to the business, based on Eleanor’s excellent taste. Their lucrative venture allowed Eleanor to stop teaching. It only took a few large purchases to get them going, and everything they sold was of high quality and value. And their success allowed Alex not to return to the bank. He regained his strength steadily after his war injuries, and owning the shop gave him the leeway to make his own hours and work at his own pace. He tired easily at first but got steadily stronger. He continued to run the Tahoe estate from a distance for the English lord who owned it. Alex spent a few days there twice a month, which was enough to make sure that everything was running smoothly, and they stayed there as a family during holidays and long weekends.
Camille was four when they started the business, and as soon as they were able to, which happened quickly, Eleanor hired a young girl to help her with Camille. They took on a young man, Tim Avery, to help with moving some of the heavy furniture at the shop. He was almost like a son to Alex. He had been injured in the war himself, and he drove Alex anywhere he needed to go. He was devoted to them. And Camille loved Annie, her babysitter, who reminded Eleanor a little bit of Wilson. Annie was Irish too, and very loving. She sang to Camille to calm her down, and Camille easily imitated her pretty voice, singing Irish ballads. The child seemed to have a real talent for music, which neither Alex nor Eleanor could lay claim to.
Eleanor had stayed in touch with Wilson after they left and she became Mrs. Houghton. They had given up their jobs in London once the bombing of London started, and had retired to Ireland, and were saddened to hear of the deaths of Eleanor’s parents and impressed by the antique business they had started and sorry not to be there. The Houghtons had fared well, saved their money, and been married for fifteen years by then, and still cherished their memories of their years with the Deveraux.
Alex and Eleanor’s first year in business was the last of the war in Europe. The news was alarming at times, but the Allies pressed on to victory. They liberated Paris in August.
Alex had sacrificed his legs for his country, but they had a good life, and with Alex running their finances, and Eleanor’s hard work, they were able to buy the building where the shop was and they lived. They had a simple life, based on their diligence, good management, and their stable marriage. Camille remained the joy of their life.
By the time Deveraux-Allen had been open for two years, in 1946, the war was over at last and they had sold almost all of her parents’ furniture, and the barn was empty in Tahoe.
“We need new merchandise,” Eleanor told Alex one afternoon when they were going over the books. She still couldn’t believe how well they had done with the business. They had clients coming from other cities now, from word of mouth, and her decorating was much in demand in San Francisco. The country was flourishing and they had caught the wave at the right time. “There’s nothing to buy here,” she said. “Wilson says that half the castles in Ireland are up for sale, and there are some beautiful antiques there.” She still called her Wilson, and couldn’t imagine calling her by her first name, Fiona, or even Mrs. Houghton. “And the French are selling everything too.”
A year after the war, Europe was still ravaged, and its people starving. But in recent months, travel had become easier. Alex and Eleanor hadn’t gone anywhere since their lost days of grandeur, except to Lake Tahoe, but if they were to keep their shop doors open, they needed something to sell, and all the fine pieces in San Francisco had been sold during the Depression, and taken elsewhere. They both