Read The Ribbon Weaver Online

Authors: Rosie Goodwin

Tags: #Fiction, #Sagas, #Family Life

The Ribbon Weaver (28 page)

BOOK: The Ribbon Weaver
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It was at that moment that the door opened and Bessie, with Toby close on her heels, appeared. They had come to say their goodbyes.

‘Now don’t you get worrying about your gran,’ Bessie told Amy kindly. ‘We’ll keep a very close eye on her, I promise. You just go and enjoy every minute.’

‘I’ll try, Bessie.’ Amy sniffed loudly as she now looked towards Toby. His hair was windswept and his large frame seemed to fill the doorway, but his eyes had that closed look about them and Amy’s heart sank. Following Mrs Forrester’s death, they had seemed to regain some of their old closeness but immediately he had heard of the proposed Paris trip the shutters had come down again and it hurt her more than she could say. The urge was on her to throw her arms about him and hug him as she had used to do, but she didn’t dare. So instead she politely held out her hand and as their palms joined she noticed that his was sweating, despite the bitterly cold day.

‘I hope you enjoy your visit, Amy.’ As he studiously avoided her eyes, Amy felt as if she was addressing a stranger. It was then that they heard the sound of the horse’s hooves in the lane outside and pandemonium broke out as Molly flew into a flap.

‘Eeh, you’ve not even got your bonnet on yet,’ she scolded and Amy laughed. Seconds later the carriage drew to a halt and whilst Molly fiddled with the ribbons on Amy’s bonnet, Toby lifted the heavy trunk as if it weighed no more than a feather and carried it outside without a word.

Seconds later, Bessie and Molly ushered Amy outside to join him and watched as Mr Forrester helped her into the carriage.

‘I promise I shall take very good care of her and return her to you all in one piece,’ he told them all, ‘and I won’t let her do anything that you wouldn’t let her do either.’ When he winked at Molly mischievously, she found herself smiling back at him as she thought to herself, Eeh, he’s all right, he is! And then almost before she knew it they were gone, with Amy leaning out of the carriage window waving until they were out of sight.

‘I have to say, I do like that Mr Forrester,’ Molly admitted. ‘He might have enough money to buy and sell us all but he ain’t got no airs and graces and he obviously still remembers his own humble beginnings.’

Bessie nodded in agreement and, hoping to delay the time when she would find herself alone, Molly promptly invited both her and Toby in for a brew.

Bessie accepted the invitation instantly but Toby said, ‘Thanks all the same, Molly, but I reckon I’ll go for a walk. I could do with a bit of fresh air to blow the cobwebs away.’ And so saying he strode away up the lane with his hands thrust deep in his pockets and his shoulders slumped.

The two women watched him go, their faces sad.

‘He loves her, don’t he?’ sighed Molly.

‘Always has,’ Bessie admitted without hesitation. ‘But your Amy is on the way up in the world now and well he knows it.’

Arms linked, the two women turned and entered the cottage, each lost in their own thoughts.

It had been agreed that Amy and the Forresters would spend the first night of their journey in London, as Mr Forrester had some business to attend to before they left for Paris. Adam was already there and it had been agreed that he would oversee the running of all the establishments whilst they were gone.

Amy was only too happy with the arrangement as it meant that she would get to see Nancy. The thought of it made her spirits lift as the train sped along on its way. The last time she had seen her, just a couple of weeks before, Nancy had been radiant because Billy had asked her to become his wife. Needless to say, she had readily accepted. The only dark cloud on the horizon was that the wedding was planned for whilst Amy was in Paris. The young couple were so besotted with each other that they saw no reason to postpone it for a day longer than was necessary. Nancy was all starry-eyed and dreamy. Amy had spent a lot of time with her recently, for once Josephine Forrester had been informed of the impending trip to Paris, she had insisted that she and Amy should have a complete new wardrobe. They had spent hours together shopping for every conceivable thing that Josephine felt they might possibly need, and the trips had gone a long way towards helping to lift the veil of sadness that had cloaked them after the old mistress’s death. Following one such trip, Amy had visited the grave in the little churchyard in Caldecote. The grave was unmarked as yet, as the fine marble headstone that Mr Forrester had ordered had not yet been delivered. It had been a day much like the day of the funeral, bitterly cold with the snow falling thick and fast. She had stood there for some time with her head bowed and the tears she had shed had fallen on to the grave making small pit holes in the snow.

‘Thank you for the opportunity you have given me,’ she had whispered, hoping that wherever the old lady was she would hear her, and then she had finally walked away as peace of a kind began to seep through her and her heart began to heal.

And now here they were, on their way at last. For most of the journey, Mr Forrester had been reading
The Times
but now as he glanced up and saw the radiant smile on Amy’s face, he found her excitement infectious and he too began to smile. Sitting there in her fine velvet suit and her plumed hat with her head erect, looking so pretty and petite, she could well have been mistaken for a young lady of class. In many ways, Samuel recognised some of the traits in Amy that were apparent in himself. She had the same straightforward nature. She still respected her humble roots and he had a feeling that were she ever to drip in gold and jewels and become rich beyond her wildest dreams, nothing would change her. In the comparatively short time since he had known her she had touched many lives. Because of her interest in Amy, his wife was happier than he had seen her for years. The staff in both of his homes adored her. His son held a great respect for her, and before her death, he was well aware that his mother Maude had come to love her. He himself had become extremely fond of her and he knew that all this was down to Molly. The wizened-up old woman whom Amy idolised had brought the girl up all on her own to have respect for others, and the end result sitting in front of him now was a credit to her.

By the time they arrived at the house in London they were all in fine spirits and as usual, Nancy hurried to meet them, her face alight.

She bobbed her knee. ‘Master Adam is waitin’ fer you in the study, sir, madam,’ she informed Samuel cheerily as she took his hat and coat and hung them up. ‘Shall I bring yer some tea in?’

‘That would be lovely, Nancy, thank you. Would you care to join us, Amy?’

‘No sir, thank you very much but I have to go straight back out. I want to go to the
Bridal Wear
shop.’

‘Very well, my dear. We shall see you later then.’ Mr Forrester inclined his head before heading towards the study.

Meantime, Nancy’s face was a picture of disappointment. ‘Oh, do yer really ’ave to rush back out?’ she asked. ‘I was ’oping to see yer for a chinwag before yer left in the momin’.’

‘And you will, I promise,’ Amy assured her as she headed back towards the front door. ‘But first I have some important business that I need to attend to. I shan’t be gone for long, and then we can chat all night if you want to.’

Completely unaware of what Amy was up to, Nancy grinned: ‘Go on then, get yer arse movin’ an’ be off wiv yer. I dare say the sooner yer gone the sooner you’ll be back.’

Recognising one of her gran’s favourite sayings, Amy chuckled as she set off for the shop in a light-hearted mood.

It was well after nine o’clock that evening before Nancy joined her in her room, and by then, Amy was almost bursting with excitement and it was not all on account of the forthcoming trip.

‘How are the plans coming along for the wedding?’ she asked within seconds of Nancy entering the room.

The girl’s eyes shone with happiness. ‘Oh, everyfink’s fallin’ into place. The church is booked an’ after the weddin’ we’re goin’ to live wiv Billy’s ma fer a while, just till we can afford to rent somewhere of our own. Billy’s dad’s bin dead fer some years past now an’ his bruvvers an’ sisters have all left home. Billy was the youngest of eight, so I think his man will be glad o’ the company. She’s really nice, she is – the salt o’ the earth, an’ I reckon we’re goin’ to get along like an ’ouse on fire.’

She paused for breath before hurrying on, ‘Cook is makin’ us a weddin’ cake. Real fruit, wiv icin’ on top it is. It’s only goin’ to be a very small weddin’, o’ course, but that don’t bovver me. Just so long as me an’ my Billy are wed, that’s all I care about. The only sad bit to all this is the fact that I won’t be livin’ here any more, so I won’t get to see so much of yer in future.’

Delighted to see her friend so happy, Amy reassured her, ‘Oh, I’m quite sure we’ll still get to see each other. But have you decided on your wedding outfit yet?’ she now asked innocently.

Nancy shrugged. ‘To tell the truth, I thought I might wear that dress yer gave me. Yer know – the cotton one wiv the little flowers on it. An’ I thought perhaps I could get a bonnet to wear wiv it down at the market. What do yer think?’

‘I think you look absolutely lovely in that dress,’ Amy told her sincerely. ‘But don’t you think you should perhaps have something a little grander? After all, it
is
your wedding day and every bride should look her best.’

‘To tell the truth, I can’t really afford a brand new outfit,’ Nancy admitted quietly, and Amy suddenly laughed out loud, unable to keep her secret for a single moment longer.

As she padded across to her wardrobe with her hair flying loose about her shoulders, Nancy looked on in bewilderment. Then, after withdrawing a large cardboard box, Amy carried it back to where her friend was sitting and placed it on the bed between them.

‘What’s this then?’ Nancy frowned.

‘Open it and find out,’ Amy ordered her.

Nancy hesitated for just a fraction of a second before cautiously lifting the lid to be confronted by a thick layer of fine white tissue paper.

‘Go on, go on,’ Amy demanded impatiently and as Nancy drew aside the paper her frown deepened.

‘I … I don’t understand.’ She drew back and suddenly Amy could stand the suspense no longer.

Delving into the box she quickly withdrew an ivory satin gown and holding it up by its shoulders she displayed it to her friend.

‘It’s your wedding dress, Nancy,’ she told her breathlessly. ‘I designed it myself and the seamstresses have been working all hours to finish it for me so that I could give it to you before I left for Paris. I have to admit, I sneaked into your room and measured your clothes to be sure I got the size just right. This is what I shot off to collect earlier on. You
do
like it, don’t you?’

Nancy was speechless and sat there open-mouthed as the smile slowly slid from Amy’s face.

‘You
don’t
like it, do you?’ she muttered miserably. ‘It’s my fault; I should have asked you what sort of styles you liked.’

To her horror, Nancy began to sob uncontrollably.

In the blink of an eye, Amy had laid the dress over the end of the bed and snatched the girl into her arms.

‘I’m so sorry, Nancy,’ she muttered, deeply distressed. ‘I didn’t mean to offend you, really I didn’t.’

‘Offend me, yer silly bugger!’ Nancy exclaimed as she pushed her roughly away. ‘Why, I can’t believe me bloody eyes. I’ve never seen a dress like it an’ I can’t believe that yer’ve done this fer me.’

Relief flooded across Amy’s face as she visibly relaxed. ‘So, you
do
like it then?’

‘Like it?
Like it?
Why, it’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen in the whole o’ me life. It would suit a bloody toff, that would. Not a guttersnipe like me.’

‘Rubbish!’ Amy retorted. ‘Now come along, I want to make sure that it fits. Let’s try it on, eh?’

Needing no second bidding, Nancy threw aside her shawl and dragged her cotton nightgown over her head. Amy helped her get into the garment and once she had fastened the row of tiny pearl buttons that ran from the neckline to the waist she adjusted the skirts and drew Nancy towards the full-length cheval mirror.

Nancy gazed astounded at her reflection. The gown fitted tight into the waist then ballooned out into a billowing skirt with a short, pearl-encrusted train trailing behind. The same heavy beading was all around the neckline and carried on to the leg of mutton sleeves.

‘Why, it fits like a glove!’ Amy exclaimed joyfully. ‘Now you’d better see the bonnet that I had made especially to go with it.’ Rushing again to the wardrobe, she withdrew another smaller box and carefully lifted out a bonnet in the same material as the dress.

She then placed it gently on Nancy’s head and tied the ribbons beneath her chin. It was a beautiful bonnet with pearls to match the ones on the gown sewn all around the brim. A short veil had been cleverly attached to its crown and now it floated around Nancy’s shoulders like filmy butterflies’ wings.

‘There,’ Amy said approvingly. ‘Your Billy will fall in love with you all over again when he sees you looking like this. I just know that you’re going to have a wonderful wedding!’

Tears suddenly slid again from Nancy’s eyes and her face became sad.

‘Oh Amy, I wish yer were goin’ to be there,’ she sobbed.

Taking her hands, Amy smiled. ‘But I
will
be there, every single second in my mind. You’ll think of me when you wear this and when I come back you’ll be able to tell me all about it. And all day I shall imagine you looking just as beautiful as you do now. So stop crying now, otherwise you’ll set me off too and you’ll get tear-stains all down your dress.’

Nancy giggled then hiccuped and within seconds they were both giggling.

The tears started again the next morning when Amy and Nancy said goodbye on the steps.

‘You just be careful now,’ Nancy warned. ‘I’ve ’eard tell what some o’ them Frenchies can be like. Remember Old Boney and what he got up to, eh?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Amy told her as she hugged her. ‘You just worry about your wedding. Just think, by the time I see you again you’ll be an old married woman.’

BOOK: The Ribbon Weaver
8.14Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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