The Ribbon Weaver

Chapter Five



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.

‘She should never have gone out on a day like this,’ she fretted. ‘Why, it ain’t fit for a dog to be out.’

She and Bessie were huddled up by the fire, and reaching over, Bessie patted her hand comfortingly.

‘She’ll be all right, love,’ she reassured her. ‘She might not be very big but she’s young and strong. Anyway, she’s been gone well over an hour now; happen she’ll be back soon.’

Molly hoped she was right. ‘I need to get back to me weaving,’ she told Bessie. ‘The money I had put by has almost gone, but me damn hands don’t seem to want to do what me head tells ’em!’

Bessie sighed at her dilemma until all of a sudden a solution to Molly’s problems occurred to her.

‘What about the locket?’ She had never mentioned it once in all the years since Molly had brought Amy home.

But Molly discounted it immediately. In truth, she had almost forgotten about it herself. It was still hidden in the back of the attic in the tapestry bag where she had placed it so long ago.

‘I know it seems wrong to sell it, but then desperate situations call for desperate measures, and were yer to sell it, it would probably fetch enough to keep yer both for years,’ Bessie sensibly pointed out.

‘That’s Amy’s legacy,’ Molly said firmly. ‘It’s all I have to give her of her poor mother, apart from them clothes she were found in. I know you’re only trying to help, Bessie, but if I sold that, I’d never be able to forgive myself.’

Bessie sighed, and the two women sat, trying to think of some other solution, but try as they might, nothing came to mind.

That evening, when supper was over, Amy plucked up her courage and dared to broach the subject that Molly had avoided for so long.

‘Gran … did you know that the money in the jar is almost gone now?’

‘I know well enough,’ snapped Molly, ‘but don’t go worritin’ over that. I’m feeling better by the day now. Why, I’ve already decided that come tomorrow I’m going to get back to me loom.’

Amy sighed in despair. ‘But you’re not properly well yet, and anyway, it’s freezing up in that room. If you go up there too soon, you’ll be back to square one and in your sickbed again.’

They glared at each other for a moment, each as stubborn as the other until Molly’s old shoulders suddenly slumped.

Amy’s hand crept across the table and squeezed Molly’s lovingly.

‘You’ve been really ill,’ she said tenderly. ‘I can’t let you start weaving again until you’re properly better, and in the meantime we’ve got to live. You don’t need me to tell you that though, do you, Gran?’

Molly shook her head as tears welled in her eyes, and seizing her chance, Amy went on, ‘It’s high time I got a job.’ She held up her hand as Molly opened her mouth to protest. ‘You know that all the other girls hereabouts have been working for years, so why should I be any different?’

‘Because you are different, that’s why! You’re a cut above everyone around here, just as yer mother was before yer, and I want the best fer yer.’

‘But you’ve always given me the best, Gran, and now it’s my turn.’ Amy’s eyes were bright with tears too. ‘Please let me do this,’ she begged, and Molly chewed on her lip as she sensed defeat. She could see that Amy was determined to have her own way this time and all the fight went out of her.

‘I’ll tell yer what, if yer can find a job somewhere respectable, where it’s safe fer a well-brought-up girl to be, I’ll consider it. How does that suit yer?’

Amy’s whole face lit up. At least this was a step in the right direction.

‘It’s a bargain.’ She laughed and they hugged each other fondly.

In actual fact, finding a job that suited them both proved to be a much more difficult task than Amy had anticipated. It was actually Mary on her next afternoon off who came up with a solution to their problem. They were all sitting around Molly’s scrubbed oak table and Mary was filling them in with the goings-on at Forrester’s Folly.

‘The poor master’s in a right old flap,’ she told them. ‘The influenza epidemic that has been going around has swept through the hat factory and the workers are dropping like flies. I heard the master tell the mistress when I was serving their tea that he’s desperate for workers to fulfil a big order he’s got.’

Amy’s ears pricked up immediately. ‘Do you think there’d be any chance of me being taken on?’ she asked hopefully.

Mary shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not. Why don’t yer go round there tomorrow and ask. You’ve nothing to lose, have yer? The very worst they can say is no.’

Amy hugged herself; she had always longed to work in the hat factory. ‘Would that be all right with you, Gran?’

The old woman sighed in defeat. ‘I suppose it would be safe there,’ she admitted grudgingly.

‘It’s decided then,’ Amy said. ‘First thing in the morning, I’ll go round there and try my luck.’ And that’s exactly what she did.

It was bitterly cold when she set off the next morning. The wind had dropped and for now it had stopped snowing, but the sky was grey and leaden. Molly saw her off from the door like an old mother hen.

‘It’s going to snow again, I can smell it,’ she warned Amy. ‘So just mind yer come straight home and don’t go talkin’ to no strangers.’ All the time she was talking she was tucking the collar of Amy’s woollen coat tighter under her chin.

Amy grinned. ‘I’m not a baby, Gran.’

In that minute Molly had to admit to herself that indeed she wasn’t. Besides her warm new coat she had a pretty warm shawl that she herself had decorated with burgundy velvet ribbons to match her coat, and it kept her head warm. Her hair, which only minutes before had been brushed, was already springing out, the shining auburn curls spilling down her back, and with her bright eyes and rosy dimpled cheeks she looked incredibly pretty.

As she went swinging off along the snow-covered cobbles, Molly watched her sadly. At the end of the lane, Amy turned and waved, and then she was gone. Suddenly Molly felt very old and alone. She had always known deep inside that she couldn’t tie Amy to her apron strings for ever, and now it was time to start to let go.

Amy was bubbling with excitement. She knew all the short-cuts through the labyrinth of cobbled alleys in Nuneaton town centre, and despite the hindrance of the deep snow, she made the journey to the hat factory in record time. When she got there, her cheeks were glowing with the cold and her breath hung on the air, but suddenly the excitement waned and was replaced by nervousness. The factory was a large building with the hat shop that displayed its wares to the front and a door to the side of it which led to the factory. In the hat-shop window were hats of all shapes and sizes, some trimmed with artificial flowers, some with feathers or veils, and some with the locally woven ribbons all the colours of the rainbow. She stood for some minutes admiring them as she had ever since she was a child.

From the back of the shop in the factory she could hear the dull whirr of the machinery, so taking a deep breath, Amy drew herself up to her full height and made her way in, her head held high.

By the time she left it had begun to snow again, just as Molly had predicted, but Amy hardly noticed it, and flew down the alleys in a most unladylike manner. She was breathless by the time the familiar cottages came into sight but she never once slowed her steps and almost fell into the kitchen in her haste to tell Molly her news.

‘I’ve got a job, Gran!’ she shouted. ‘Only as a runabout for now, but it’s a start, ain’t it?’

Molly couldn’t help but be pleased for her. ‘Well done, lass,’ she said, and while Amy chattered on about the factory she hurried about getting her a warming mug of broth.

Amy was so full of her good news, it was hard to get a word in sideways but eventually Molly managed it. ‘When do yer start?’ she asked.

‘Tomorrow … and I’ll get paid on Friday.’

It was going against the grain for Molly to think of Amy as the breadwinner. But the girl was so pleased with herself that Molly wisely held her tongue, not wanting to spoil it for her.

‘It’s only a temporary arrangement,’ she warned. ‘Just till I’m back in me stride.’ But even as the words were uttered they both knew that it wasn’t true, and that their life as they had known it was about to change.