The Ribbon Weaver (44 page)

Hoping to allay the old woman’s fears, Samuel forced a smile back to his face. ‘I’m sure that there will be some rational explanation,’ he assured her. ‘I shall go back home immediately and try to find out what’s gone on. Would you like to come with me, or would you rather stay here?’

‘I’ll wait here if it’s all the same to you.’

‘Of course. Rest assured I shall let you know what’s happening at the first opportunity,’ he promised, then turning abruptly he strode back out to the carriage, leaving Molly to wring her hands and pray as she had not prayed for a very long time.

‘What do yer mean, she
still
ain’t home? Toby asked when he arrived home from work that evening.

‘Just what I said,’ his mother informed him shortly. ‘Old Molly is nearly beside herself wi’ worry. Mr Forrester called in this afternoon an’ told her that he thought Amy had come home last night. He then went straight back to The Folly just to make sure as she weren’t still there. He sent word to Molly wi’ the coachman that she hadn’t been seen since yesterday mornin’. He’s got his men out lookin’ fer her now, by all accounts.’

Slinging his snap box on to the table, Toby swung about and told her. ‘I’m goin’ to go an’ join in the search.’

‘Ere, hold fire,’ his mother objected. ‘What about yer meal? Do yer really need to go harin’ off like this?’

‘Keep it warm fer me,’ he told her, and without another word he stepped back out into the lane.

He arrived at The Folly to find the grounds teeming with people, Mr Forrester amongst them. Hurrying across to him, Toby held out his hand and introduced himself. ‘I’m Toby Bradley, sir – a neighbour of Amy’s. I just got home from work an’ me mam told me that Amy is still missin’, so I thought I’d come an’ help yer search for her.’

‘That’s much appreciated, young man.’ Mr Forrester shook his hand. ‘I have every male member of staff out looking for her, but as yet there’s not been a sign of her.’

They were standing at the bottom of the marble steps that led up to the door and Lily, who was just returning after her evening off, paused as she saw so many people about. She had been making her way round to the servants’ entrance, but now she called Seth, who was searching amongst the topiary trees, and asked him, ‘What’s goin’ on here then?’

‘It’s Miss Amy,’ he informed her solemnly. ‘She’s gone missin’.’

‘What do yer mean, gone missin’? Since when?’

‘Since yesterday mornin’, from what I can gather. She were here when the master an’ mistress left the house, an’ then when the master called to her cottage today, the old woman told him that Amy hadn’t come home last night. We’ve been scourin’ the grounds fer hours. Even Master Adam has left his room to help look fer her, but as yet we ain’t had a sign o’ the poor girl.’

Lily frowned. She could clearly remember Amy leaving the house yesterday morning and had passed on the message that Amy had asked her to give to the master and mistress about seeing them this morning. But where was it she had said she was going? Suddenly it came to her, and lifting her skirts she sped towards Mr Forrester.

‘Sir,’ she gulped, ‘I just remembered. When Miss Amy left the house yesterday after you an’ the mistress had gone out she said she were goin’ to do some sketchin’. She had her pad an’ pencils with her.’

‘That is most helpful, Lily, but did she say exactly where she was going?’

Lily sadly shook her head. ‘Sorry, sir – no, she didn’t. She just said as she were goin’ to do some sketchin.’

‘Thank you, all the same,’ the man told her, and turning about she retraced her steps and went to join Cook in the kitchen.

‘All we can do is continue to search,’ Mr Forrester told Toby, and nodding, Toby set off across the lawns in the directions of the woods. As he approached Mary’s cottage, he saw his sister with the girls one on each hip in the garden, staring at all the activity, and as he drew near she shouted, ‘What you doin’ here, Toby, an’ what the hell is goin’ on?’

He quickly told her and she frowned. ‘Well, the last I saw of her yesterday, Amy were headin’ towards the ravine, yon side o’ the woods.’ She placed the girls down and pointed in the general direction through the trees. ‘She often used to go there to sketch on a nice day. Come to think of it, I didn’t see her come by on her way back though.’

‘Thanks, Mary.’ Toby plunged into the woods. The light was beginning to fail now and he had to pause and blink as his eyes adjusted to the dimness. Eventually he moved on, his eyes searching this way and that through the undergrowth for a sign of her. It was some time later when he emerged on the other side of the woods and he stood there as his eyes played along the rim of the deep ravine. It was very quiet and peaceful here, but there was no evidence that he could see of Amy ever having been there. Slowly he began to tread the flattened grass that looped around the edge of the steep drop and he had gone some way when something on the grass up ahead caught his attention. Hurrying now he moved towards it and his heart plummeted as he saw what looked like Amy’s sketchpad lying on the ground. When he drew close his heart dropped even further. Sketches that looked as if they had been trampled upon were lying here and there, softly blowing in the wind that was just starting to pick up. Her pencils were there too, scattered about as if she had dropped them.

Cupping his mouth with his hands he shouted, ‘AAAAMY!’ and the name echoed eerily back to him.

He stood perfectly still for a while listening, and then, dropping to his knees, he lifted first one sketch and then another. There was no doubt about it, they were definitely hers; he would have recognised her style amongst a million others. It was as he was kneeling there that he noticed a discoloration on a clump of grass and running his hand across it he then raised it nearer to his face and gasped. It was dried blood. But where was Amy? He began to shout her name again until he felt that his lungs would burst, but only silence answered him. Treading closer to the edge of the ravine now, he stared down into the deep gorge below but could see nothing but the wildflowers and the bushes that grew in profusion there. They looked as if they had been painted in black and white in the failing light and as he stood there, his eyes straining for a sight of her, the first drops of rain began to fall and everywhere grew ominously quiet. Next came the lightning, flashing in the sky overhead, followed a few seconds later by a clap of thunder as the downpour commenced. Blinking the lashing rain from his eyes, Toby began to inch away from the edge. Yet another crack of lightning flashed directly above him and it was then that he caught a glimpse of colour far, far below him in the bottom of the ravine. It was a deep sapphire blue – the colour of the gown that Amy had been wearing yesterday.

His first instinct was to try and scale the walls of the ravine to get down to her, but he quickly realised how foolish that would be. They were dangerously slippery now with the rain, and should he attempt it, he had no doubt that he too would end up laid out on the rocks far below. The only sensible thing he could do was to run and fetch help.

Toby plunged back into the woods, which were even darker now than when he had first entered them. The bushes and brambles snagged at his hands and face and his clothes as if they were trying to hinder his progress, but he raced on regardless. And all the time his heart was crying,
Oh, Dear God, please don’t let me be too late!
For he knew that if Amy was dead, he would want to die too.

Chapter Thirty

As Toby burst from the shelter of the trees his heart was thumping painfully against his ribs. The men who were scouring the grounds held lamps aloft now as they poked at the bushes but they all looked towards him when he shouted, ‘
Over here!’

He saw Mr Forrester racing across the grass as he struggled to get his breath back and then the man was standing in front of him as Toby gasped, ‘I … I reckon I’ve found her, sir. In the old quarry. We’re goin’ to need a rope … a long ’un.’

Mr Forrester swung about and said to Seth, who was standing close behind him, ‘Get over to the stables, Seth, and bring me a rope. And be quick about it, man. We have not a moment to lose.’

By now the rest of the search-party was assembling behind him and he told Joe authoritatively, ‘Wait here for your father, and then follow us through the woods as fast as you know how.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Joe tapped the tip of his peaked cap, which was dripping with water as the rest of the men set off back through the woods behind Toby.

At last they came through the other side of the trees and Toby strained his eyes into the darkness as he tried to remember where he had found Amy’s sketches.

‘It’s this way,’ he panted as he got his bearings, and as one they all set off again. Soon they came to the ruined sketches and Toby pointed over the edge of the ravine. ‘I saw somethin’ down there in the flash from the lightning. It looked like part of a woman’s dress.’

Mr Forrester shuddered. If what Toby said was true and Amy had fallen over the edge, there was very little chance of finding her alive. How could anyone survive a fall such as this? Even so he now snapped, ‘Where the hell is Seth with that damn rope? Someone is going to have to climb down there.’

‘I’ll do it,’ Toby replied without hesitation and as the two men’s eyes locked, the older one nodded.

Minutes later, Seth joined them carrying a long rope that the men started to fasten around Toby’s waist.

‘Are you quite sure that you want to do this, lad?’ Mr Forrester asked.

Toby nodded, his face set in grim lines as he approached the edge of the drop. ‘Yer goin’ to have to take me weight in case I slip,’ he told the men who were holding the rope, and they all nodded, bracing themselves as he lowered himself across the lip of the ravine.

Toby clumsily began his descent, gripping on to the slippery grass and finding footholds wherever he could. It was not easy with the rain blinding him but he never ceased in his efforts. Very, very slowly, the men lowered him down. More than once he lost his grip and swung out from the face, but they steadied him and held him fast until he was ready to be lowered again. The drop seemed endless and Toby began to worry that the rope was not going to be long enough to get to the bottom, but thankfully just then his feet hit solid ground and he sighed with relief.

‘
I’m there!
’ he shouted, for he knew that they could no longer see him so far below them. The night had come with a vengeance.

He unfastened the rope and dropping to his knees, began to feel around the ground, cursing the darkness.

‘Amy, are yer here, lass?’ he called but there was no reply. On and on he crawled until suddenly his hand connected with something soft. It was the skirt of a dress. His hands moved upwards and as another flash of lightning lit the sky he saw Amy’s beautiful face, although it wasn’t so beautiful now for it was covered in blood and there was an ugly gash running from beneath her eye to her chin. One of her legs was sticking out at an unnatural angle and she was deathly cold and unmoving, and Toby feared that she was dead. He had come too late. Even so, he was determined not to leave her there, so climbing to his feet he shouted to the lights flickering above him, ‘
I’ve found her. I’m going to have to tie her to me and you’ll have to hoist us up together. And we’re gonna need a door or somethin’ to carry her to the house on
.’

‘
Very well, Toby
.’ Mr Forrester’s voice carried to him above the howling wind. ‘
Just tug on the rope when you are ready
.’

Toby caught at the rope and then after struggling to get Amy’s inert figure into a sitting position he tied it about their waists so that her head was resting on his shoulder.

‘
All right!
’ he bellowed, then yanked at the rope and almost instantly felt the tension on it as the men above began to heave him and Amy upwards.

Keeping his arms tight about her, his feet braced against the cliff face as they were slowly inched up, Toby’s face was grim; inside he was crying, for not once did she show the slightest glimmer of life.

The upward journey seemed to take forever, but at last the men’s faces appeared above him and he and Amy were being heaved on to the sodden grass. He lay breathless as someone undid the rope that tied them together and Amy dropped like a rag doll on to the ground.

He saw that Mr Forrester had a door all ready for her and it was on to this that the men now gently lifted her, although not one of them, if asked, felt that she stood a chance. That was if the poor lass was not dead already.

Mr Forrester clapped him on the back. ‘Well done, lad.’

Toby was not sure if it was raindrops or tears streaming down the master’s face. ‘You did a good job. Are you all right?’

‘Aye, I’m fine. You just see to her,’ Toby flapped his hand weakly as the men lifted a corner of the door each and carried Amy towards the trees.

He felt emotionally and physically drained, but overriding everthing was the fear that was coursing through him. What would he do if she were dead? It was more than he could bear to think about.

It was a solemn party which crossed the lawns that evening, with Amy lying still on the door that acted as a stretcher. In the time since she had been visiting The Folly she had touched the hearts of many, and they all thought it was a crying shame that the poor Miss should have had such a tragic accident.

When Mr Forrester had sent for the door, he had also sent word for his wife to call in the doctor, and now they saw that his pony and trap were already outside.

They were barely halfway across the grass when Josephine ran out to meet them, heedless of the atrocious weather. She began to sob when she saw Amy’s ashen face. Her husband took her arm as they hurried along at the side of her, their hair plastered to their heads and their saturated clothes clinging to them.

‘Take her straight up to the middle bedroom on the first landing,’ Josephine ordered the men as they entered the hallway, and heedless of the mess they were making all over the highly polished parquet floors and fine carpets, they did as they were told.