The Ribbon Weaver (8 page)
Hardly daring to look, Amy followed her gaze and saw Molly’s old chest rise and fall regularly beneath her nightgown. A huge wave of relief swept through her and now she was laughing and crying and hugging Bessie all at the same time.
‘She’s alive,’ she sobbed gleefully as Bessie beamed through her own tears.
‘Aye she is, lass,’ she agreed. ‘Mind you, I don’t know now why we was ever worried in the first place. She’s as tough as old boots, is our Molly.’
By the time Dr Sorrell arrived back that evening, although still very weak, Molly was awake.
‘What are you doin’ here?’ she demanded rudely, and they all began to laugh with delight.
‘Now we
know
she’s on the mend,’ grinned Bessie. ‘She’s got her bloody cheek back.’
The recovery was slow but sure, and after two weeks Molly was well enough to leave her sickbed and sit in her rocking chair for a while. Amy fussed over her, endlessly plying her with drinks and tempting her with tasty titbits to encourage her to eat. Usually an independent soul, Molly grew deeply frustrated and snappy. But Amy endured all her moods without complaint. As long as she could keep her gran, she would have put up with anything.
Every evening Toby came round and read to them, and Molly looked forward to his visits. Bessie was also a frequent visitor and once, when Amy was out of the room, Molly slipped some coins into her hand.
‘Get Amy a birthday present fer me,’ she whispered. ‘I was hoping to buy her a new coat, but what wi’ the doctor’s bills an’ me not bein’ able to work fer a time, that’s all I can manage.’
Bessie winked, and after shopping about a bit she did Molly proud. She found a slim silver chain bracelet hung with a little engraved heart at a bargain price.
When Molly gave it to her on Christmas Eve, Amy was absolutely enchanted with it and hugged her gran fiercely, although she scolded her at the same time.
‘You shouldn’t have done this, Gran,’ she chided her. ‘You know we’ve got no money coming in at the minute.’
Molly was indignant. ‘You don’t think I’d let yer birthday pass wi’out even buyin’ you a present, do yer?’ she said, stubborn as ever.
Amy kissed her cheek tenderly. ‘Oh Gran, I love you
so
much. I don’t know what I’d ever do without you. But I didn’t need a present. So long as I’ve still got you, I don’t need anything else.’
A huge lump formed in Molly’s throat, for Amy’s words had touched her deeply.
Bessie had baked her a cake, covered with fluffy icing, and Amy was delighted with it.
‘We’ll save it until tonight when Toby gets here,’ she declared, and sure enough, amidst a merry atmosphere that evening they all had a huge wedge of the delicious treat.
Toby presented her with a wonderfully bound book all about fashion designs that Amy absolutely loved. By now Molly’s bed had been carried back upstairs, but although she was growing steadily stronger by the day, she still tired easily.
After they had all washed Bessie’s cake down with a glass of Molly’s home-made wine, Bessie went off home to her own brood, and Molly retired for the night. Amy tucked the blankets about her lovingly.
‘Thank you for my bracelet, Gran,’ she whispered, planting a gentle kiss on Molly’s papery cheek. ‘I’ll treasure it always.’
Molly gazed up at her, pride shining in her eyes. Her girl was teetering on the brink of becoming a woman and it was a frightening thought. When Amy eventually descended the stairs again after making sure that Molly had everything she needed, Toby pointed to the chair at the side of the fire.
‘Sit there,’ he smiled. ‘I’ve got another surprise for you.’
‘Oh, Toby, no, my book was more than enough.’ she exclaimed, but all the same she sat down and did as she was told.
‘Now close your eyes,’ he commanded and giggling, Amy closed them.
Presently he dropped a bulky parcel into her outstretched arms, and she frowned as she felt it and tried to think what it could be.
‘Well, go on then … open your eyes and take a look. It won’t bite you,’ he teased.
Amy began to tear at the brown paper as excited as a child, with a radiant smile on her face. However, when she saw what the parcel contained, the smile vanished from her face and her huge velvety brown eyes filled with tears.
‘Oh, Toby,’ she whispered. ‘This is just too much.’ And to his dismay she began to weep. Inside the parcel was the beautiful woollen coat that Molly had hoped to buy for her. The old lady had shown it to him in the shop window weeks ago, and determined that Amy should have it, he had saved for weeks to buy it.
‘Don’t you like it?’ His voice held such disappointment that her head snapped up.
‘Not like it?’ she cried. ‘Oh, Toby – why, it’s
lovely
. It’s the most beautiful coat I’ve ever had; I just can’t believe how kind you are. What with Gran pulling through and now this, it’s just turning out to be the best Christmas and birthday ever. I can’t believe how lucky I am.’
And with that she threw herself into his arms and gave him a resounding kiss on the lips, which made him blush to the very roots of his hair and caused Amy to burst out laughing again.
The coat fitted perfectly and Amy strutted up and down the kitchen in delight. Toby thought secretly that it set the colour of her hair off to perfection, but was too shy to tell her so.
She in turn looked at Toby as if for the very first time. Tall and broad-shouldered, with straight fair hair, his mouth was wide and his nose not quite straight – and yet his eyes, which were his best feature, more than made up for that. They were a lovely deep blue, almost sapphire, and when he smiled they lit up his whole face. Amy suddenly realised that he had grown into a very handsome young man and wondered why he wasn’t courting or married. She knew that there was more than one girl who had set her cap at him, yet Toby had never seemed interested. Still, she supposed it was none of her business at the end of the day and they spent the next hour admiring the designs in her new book.
Later in the evening, however, her mood became more sombre and she decided to confide in him.
‘Toby, I
have
to get a job now.’ Her voice was heavy with anxiety. ‘I know Gran doesn’t want me to, but the savings are almost gone. It will be months before she’s strong enough to start weaving again, and we can’t live on fresh air, can we?’
Understanding her dilemma, Toby nodded his head, waiting for her to continue.
‘As soon as she’s well enough to be left on her own I’m going job-hunting,’ Amy declared with a defiant toss of her head. ‘Beatrice has been working up at The Folly for ages now and here’s me still stuck at home.’ Amy missed her friend dreadfully.
‘Then if that’s your intention I’d say nothin’ about what you’re proposin’ to do until after Christmas,’ Toby advised. He could have said much more on the subject but wisely held his tongue. He knew Amy well enough to be aware that, once she had made up her mind to do something, nothing would change it. He also knew that once Molly learned of her decision, fireworks would go up and no mistake.
‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you tell her,’ he chuckled, and before they knew it they were both laughing naughtily at the thought.
Christmas came and went and Amy and Molly enjoyed it. Amy had decorated the cottage with holly branches and mistletoe, and they had a nice fat chicken for dinner. Wisely, Amy had followed Toby’s advice not to mention her intentions of getting a job until the festivities were over, and the fact that she had almost lost her gran made them treasure their time together all the more.
December gave way to January 1846 and Amy became increasingly concerned about the dwindling money in the savings jar. But Molly still wasn’t strong enough to be left alone yet, so she patiently bided her time.
Today was Mary and Beatrice’s day to visit, and since she was still unable to get out and about, Molly looked forward to this treat immensely. Both girls always called in and had a cup of tea with them, and Molly never tired of hearing about the happenings at Forrester’s Folly. Every few minutes Molly would glance at the mantel clock impatiently until at last Bessie entered with Mary and Beatrice close on her heels.
It was a dull overcast day with heavy rain-laden clouds dotting the sky, but Bessie’s smile was brilliant as she entered.
‘You’ll never guess in a month o’ Sundays what’s happened,’ she beamed, barely able to contain her excitement.
Amy and Molly stared at her expectantly.
‘Our Mary is engaged,’ she announced, and Mary flushed.
Amy hugged her delightedly. ‘Congratulations,’ she said, as Molly struggled stiffly from her chair to hug her too. ‘I don’t suppose the lucky chap would be Joe the stable lad you’re allus on about, would it?’ she teased.
Mary blushed and nodded.
‘Well, that didn’t take much working out, did it? Why, a blind man on a galloping donkey could see that you two were made fer each other. I just wonder why it took yer both so long to get round to it. I was startin’ to fear you’d become an old maid.’
Mary laughed, before telling her excitedly, ‘We had a word with the master yesterday and he’s going to let us live in one of the cottages within the grounds.’
‘That’s grand then, lass.’ Molly was genuinely pleased for her. ‘I just hope Joe appreciates what a lucky chap he is.’
‘Oh no, Molly, it’s
me
that’s lucky. I think I’ve loved Joe ever since the first day I set eyes on him, but I never thought he’d look at me.’
Amy sighed dreamily, her young heart alight at the romance of it all.
‘Will you be having a white dress and a veil?’ she asked.
Before Mary could answer, Bessie spoke for her. ‘Yes, she will,’ she said firmly and they all laughed. There was nothing quite like a wedding to lift everyone’s spirits, and it had come just at the right time.
‘How are things up at The Folly?’ asked Molly curiously.
Mary frowned. ‘To be honest, apart from me, the rest o’ the staff rarely see the mistress at all now; she keeps to her own rooms much o’ the time. I overheard Cook sayin’ the other day that the master’s sorely worried about her. As I once told you, it’s been years now since the master ordered Jessica, the daughter, out o’ the house, and the mistress has been going steadily downhill ever since, which is why he promoted me to fetch an’ carry for her. She’s a kindly lady though, an’ I like workin’ for her.’
‘Poor soul,’ said Molly. ‘Have yer never found out why he threw the young mistress out?’
Mary shook her head. ‘It’s more than yer job’s worth to even mention her name in front o’ the master,’ she confided. ‘Mind you, there’s the other madam, Miss Eugenie, Master Adam’s wife – now
there’s
one I’d like to see go. I reckon as even
he’s
getting sick of her tantrums now. He stays away from the house more and more. He’s either out riding on his horse, Pepperpot, or it’s rumoured that he’s taken to drinking – when he isn’t working in his hat shop, that is. Not that you can blame him. That one could make a saint turn to drink from what I’ve seen of her.’
‘Sounds to me like Mr Forrester’s got his hands full and no mistake,’ Molly said sadly. ‘But then happen things wouldn’t have turned out as they have if he hadn’t thrown his daughter out.’ And with that the women turned their talk back to the good news and the rest of the visit was spent discussing the wedding. Molly insisted that they should celebrate properly and ordered Amy to fetch a bottle of her homemade elderberry wine from the pantry.
‘Ain’t it a bit early in the day?’ Amy questioned.
‘It’s never too early in the day to celebrate good news,’ Molly told her. ‘Besides – I’ve been keeping a few bottles o’ me elderberry wine fer a special occasion an’ it don’t get much more special than this from where I’m standin’, so just go and fetch it and do as you’re told fer once.’
Thrilled to hear her gran sounding so much more like her old bossy self, Amy scurried away to the pantry. One bottle turned into two and two into three, and by teatime, when Mary and Beatrice finally made their unsteady way back to Forrester’s Folly they were more than a little tiddly and in a merry mood, as indeed were they all.
With February came the snow. Molly had been expecting it for weeks, insisting that the skies were full of it, and when it did come it came with a vengeance.
They woke up one morning to a silent white world. When Amy pulled aside the pretty flowered curtains at her bedroom window, all she could see was a blanket of white. The windows were frozen over inside into intricate little patterns and she had to breathe on them and rub a little space to peep out. The sight that met her eyes made her shudder, and after washing as quickly as she could at the little pot bowl in her room, she got dressed and tied a warm woollen shawl about her. Then, hurrying downstairs, she skilfully banked up the fire and pushed the kettle into it. Molly was still in bed. Since her illness, Amy had insisted that she lie in until she had got the kitchen warm each morning, and today she almost envied her. It was so cold that her teeth were chattering, and after hastily brushing her unruly curls and tying them into a ponytail with a ribbon, she caught up the copper coal-scuttle and bracing herself, went out to the little coal shed in the yard. The snow had drifted halfway up the door by then and she began to shovel it aside with her hands. By the time she was done, her fingers were blue and she looked as if she were dressed all in white.
After finally managing to drag the door open she stared in dismay at the contents. There were still a few logs and odd bits of wood inside, but the remaining coal was little more than slack, and not much of it at that.
Filling the scuttle as fast as she could, she scurried back into the homely little kitchen and slammed the door shut behind her. Luckily the fire was burning brightly now and the room was getting warmer, so after she had mashed the tea, she poured out a cup for Molly and took it up to her room to her.
Later that afternoon, much against Molly’s wishes, Amy took the old pram out to the slagheap to try and replenish their dwindling coal supply. Molly’s troubled eyes kept going to the window.