The Ribbon Weaver

Epilogue



‘I now christen you Benjamin Tobias Bradley, in the name of the Son, the Father and the Holy Ghost.’ As the vicar solemnly made the sign of the cross on the tiny infant’s head with holy water, Molly felt as if she would burst with pride.

Amy and Toby were beaming as they stared at their baby in his fine robes cradled in his mother’s arms. He was a beautiful child, in both looks and nature, as was their three-year-old daughter, Sophia, who was now tugging restlessly at her father’s trousers. Toby grinned as he bent to sweep her into his arms, and she gave him a mischievous smile.

She was so like Amy had been at her age that sometimes when Molly looked at her she felt as if she had been transported back in time. Yes, they were a fine family all right, and there was not a happier one anywhere, from what Molly could see of it. Sophia had come along ten months after their marriage and Amy had positively sailed through the pregnancy and the birth, much to Molly’s relief. And now here was little Benjamin, who looked exactly like a miniature version of his father. Amy absolutely doted on her children and Toby spoiled them both shamelessly, which to Molly’s eyes was just as it should be.

Nancy was there with Billy and their two-year-old son, Simon, who was Sophia’s constant companion and, as the two youngsters linked hands, Molly wondered if she was seeing the beginnings of yet another future romance?

Bessie and Jim were there too, along with Josephine and Samuel, who couldn’t seem to be able to stop smiling.

The christening was such a joyous occasion that as they all left the small church in Caldecote the sound of laughter floated on the air. They would all now go on to a small reception at Treetops and then Molly would return to her cottage.

Amy had not been at all happy at first at Molly’s decision to stay in her old home, following the wedding, but Nancy now went along daily to do Molly’s chores for her and Samuel regularly sent the carriage to collect her so that she could go to Treetops and spend time with Amy and the children, so all in all, things had worked out well.

Amy still produced her designs, which continued to sell successfully, although she no longer travelled to London, choosing to leave that part of the business to her grandfather; her time was too taken up with her children, and the arrangement suited them both.

Toby was like a changed man and had thrived in his position at the newly erected village school. It had been hard work at first as the locals had been cautious about their children attending, but now, thanks to his efforts and Josephine’s support, the room was full each day and Toby had a newfound confidence about him.

Josephine was cooing over her new great-grandson as Samuel helped Molly into the carriage and Molly looked on affectionately. As the afternoon had advanced into evening, she had begun to tire and Samuel thoughtfully sent for the carriage to take her home. She would leave the young ones to their merrymaking now. All she wanted now was her bed. It had been a long day.

Amy reached up to kiss her soundly, then settled a warm travel rug about her gran’s scrawny legs.

‘Now don’t you get doing anything,’ she warned. ‘Nancy will be there first thing in the morning to help, and I shall be along in the afternoon to see you with the children, do you hear me?’

‘I hear yer, lass,’ Molly replied with a grin. ‘But now you get back to the party an’ that lovely family o’ yours, eh?’

Amy lifted her skirts and turned to do just that, but then she paused and turned back to say, ‘Do you know something, Gran? I never thought it was possible to be this happy.’ And then as she tripped away, Molly’s heart swelled as she settled back in her seat.

When the carriage arrived back in the lane, the coachman lifted Molly down and escorted her into the cottage, and she looked about her contentedly. Everything was spick and span, thanks to Nancy’s hard work. She thought briefly about making herself a cup of tea, but then the pain that had been gripping her heart more and more of late had her bending over the back of the nearest chair. When it had finally passed she lifted the lamp from the table and slowly climbed the stairs. The tea could wait till morning.

Once on the tiny landing, she entered the room where her beloved husband had spent so many hours, and as she held the lamp aloft, its light spilled on to Wilf ’s old dusty loom. She paused to stroke it lovingly before moving on to her bedroom, then stepping out of the fine new outfit that Amy had insisted she should have for the occasion, she slipped a long cotton nightgown over her head. After then, taking the pins from her hair, she wove it into a long grey plait and painfully clambered on to her comfortable new mattress, the latest gift from Amy. Reaching over to the small table at the side of the bed she extinguished the lamp and lay there as the moonlight spilling through the small leaded window cast a cold glow about the room.

Molly was totally exhausted, but the pain in her chest had returned again now, and for some reason sleep would not come. It was as she was lying there that a strange feeling of waiting settled around her. She found herself thinking back over her life, right from the time when she was a very small child. In her mind she saw herself as she had been on her wedding day with Wilf standing beside her, handsome and dashing with their whole lives stretching away in front of them. Then she was holding the three tiny daughters whom she had only been allowed to keep for such a short time, then there was Amy on the night she had fetched her back, all unknowing, to what was to become her home. From that day on, the child had become the centre of her world and all the love that Molly had stored away inside her for her own children had been poured into the tiny orphan. But now at last she could rest easy, safe in the knowledge that Amy was truly loved and content.

She sighed happily as the memories rushed back, but then the pain returned a thousandfold and Molly was afraid, for she suddenly felt very old and alone.

Fearfully she pressed her hands into her chest and that was when she noticed a strange light seeming to glow at the end of the bed. She shuddered, wondering if she had perhaps forgotten to turn the oil lamp off. But no, a glance towards the small table assured her that the lamp was extinguished. As she stared back towards the foot of the bed the pain became unbearable and the light seemed to intensify. And suddenly she found herself staring into a gentle face that she could never forget. Jessica was standing there smiling at her.

Trembling in her fear and pain, Molly pulled the blankets up under her chin but as she gazed into the girl’s kindly eyes, peace of a kind descended on her, as it had during Amy’s wedding, when the young woman had appeared to her before, and Jessica’s eyes seemed to have the power to soothe the pain that was tearing through her.

‘Don’t be afraid, Molly.’ The girl’s voice was as sweet as a choirboy’s as she held her hand out towards her, and now in the light behind her, she could vaguely see her Wilf waiting patiently. His eyes were full of love, and without fear now and with joy in her heart, she stretched out her hand to Jessica’s and the pain was gone.

Hand-in-hand with her fallen angel she walked into the light, leaving her little cottage behind for the very last time without so much as a backwards glance, as she went to join her husband.