By #ClementineAshe

When Miss Fenella Devenish checks into a country inn with swan-towel expectations and impeccable standards, she’s not prepared to encounter a chambermaid whose idea of turndown service resembles a laundry accident. But after a frank discussion involving chocolates, apron strings, and a well-handled shoehorn, standards are restored in style. Turn-Down Service is a tale of poise, presentation, and the curiously instructive charm of a properly folded towel.

There was a quiet perfection about The Brindlecombe Arms. The hydrangeas beside the entrance bloomed in a manner that exuded class. Dappled afternoon light filtered through antique lace curtains. And somewhere, from speakers carefully hidden among the cornices, the strains of harp music completed the regal ambience.

Miss Fenella Devenish arrived shortly after three, precisely on time. She was the sort of woman who travelled with her own pillow mist and noticed when a doily had been rotated ninety degrees off-centre. Her reservation was for a junior suite—the “Elysium Suite.” The poetic reference to Greek mythology had appealed to her, although she privately suspected the motif of heavenly tranquillity would not extend beyond the door plaque. Still, it would do.

The following authors may or may not exist in any conventional sense, and if they do, they are surely the sort to insist on handwritten correspondence and the correct use of a dessert fork. Consider this section a fiction within the fiction, with each persona crafted to reflect the tone, temperament, and tailored sensibilities of the stories they “write.”

Whether wistful, wicked, or ever-so-well-mannered, these biographies might help you find the flavour of story that suits your mood. And, perhaps to suggest that, somewhere between velvet upholstery and moral instruction, a little elegance still matters.