The Ribbon Weaver (20 page)
‘What about this?’ she asked, holding up a smart grey skirt, then before Amy could protest she selected a pretty white blouse with lace ruffles all around the neckline and cuffs, and tiny gold buttons all down the front.
‘Do try them on,’ she urged, and obediently, Amy followed the hovering assistant to a private dressing room. She was dreading revealing her plain cotton underthings, but they were sewn by herself and had pretty flounces, so in the end she was not too ashamed.
When she reappeared, Josephine clapped her hands in delight
‘Oh, my dear, you look absolutely charming,’ she said.
Amy blushed. She had never worn clothes of this quality in the whole of her life and felt a little out of her depth. But Josephine’s mind was made up.
‘We’ll take them,’ she told the smiling assistant. She gave the woman her address and asked for the items to be delivered along with the bill, before dragging Amy off to the next shop, enjoying herself immensely. By lunchtime, Amy’s head was spinning; Mrs Forrester had bought her outfits that she had only ever dreamed of owning. Apart from the skirt and blouse there was a smart day gown, petticoats, shoes and stockings, not to mention a large amount of new underwear. Mrs Forrester then took her to a very upper-class tea room in Regent Street for lunch, and there they were served with soup, tiny wafer-thin sandwiches and cream pastries, all washed down with tea.
When they had both eaten their fill, Josephine dabbed daintily at her mouth with a linen serviette before saying to Amy, ‘Now, my dear, I’m afraid I have a confession to make. I’ve already spoken to Samuel about this and he is in full agreement with me, although I do have to admit that it was my mother-in-law’s idea in the first place.’ Suddenly realising that she was rambling on a little she giggled self-consciously and Amy was highly amused. This was a side of her mistress she had never seen before. The girl had always thought that Josephine was attractive, but when she laughed she was positively beautiful.
‘You’ll have to excuse me, but I haven’t enjoyed myself so much for a long time,’ she said. ‘Which brings me back to what I was about to tell you.’
Amy was all ears and stared at her expectantly.
‘The thing is, we felt it wouldn’t be right for you to come to London without visiting the theatre, and so Samuel is going to get us all some tickets to see a play at the Theatre Royal in Drury Lane next Wednesday evening. You
will
accompany us, won’t you?’
Amy stared back at her blankly. Surely she must be hearing things? Her gran would never believe it and she was so thrilled at the prospect that she was momentarily struck dumb.
‘Come along, dear,’ Mrs Forrester ordered, taking her silence as an agreement. ‘I’ve saved the best bit until last. We’re going to go and get you an evening gown now. As I’m sure you are aware, London society dresses for the theatre and we do want you looking the part. I might even have a new one too if something catches my eye. And of course we must also find you a nice new cloak to go over your other new clothes.’
Rising, she waited for Amy, who was suddenly all fingers and thumbs, then she gaily tripped away with the girl following in hot pursuit. They took a carriage through the teeming streets of what Josephine called ‘the West End’ and Amy was soon hopelessly lost. However, Josephine seemed to know exactly where she was going and eventually they came to a halt outside a very ornately decorated shop called
Isabelle’s Modes
. Amy could only gape open-mouthed at the colourful array of gowns displayed in the window.
‘This is one of my very favourite shops,’ Mrs Forrester confided as she paid the cabbie and alighted from the carriage. ‘I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.’ And without further ado she led Amy inside.
The next hour would remain in Amy’s memory for the rest of her life. She tried on one beautiful gown after another and paraded up and down in them for her mistress’s approval. She herself thought every single one was lovely, but Mrs Forrester kept shaking her head until she finally emerged from the dressing room in a dark green silk evening gown. An off-the-shoulder design with a low neckline, it was tucked in tight to the waist then the skirt billowed out in shimmering folds. It was without doubt one of the simplest gowns that Amy had tried on, but it made her look elegant and sophisticated, and emphasised the colour of her hair and her tiny waist.
Mrs Forrester drew her to a full-length mirror and pointed at the reflection there, and Amy could scarcely believe that the person staring back at her was herself. She looked so totally different that she suddenly wished with all her heart that Molly were there to see her.
Mrs Forrester’s mind was made up. ‘It might have been made for you!’ she cried. ‘We couldn’t have found one more perfect if we had scoured the whole of London. And now … we must find you a pretty evening shawl to go with it, and some evening slippers, of course.’
Within minutes she had the shop assistants scurrying to and fro with various articles until she had selected the ones that she felt were just right. The shawl she chose was pure silk and almost exactly the same shade as the dress, with a deep shimmering fringe that complemented the gown to perfection. Josephine placed it about Amy’s shoulders personally and stood back to study the effect. She then chose silk evening shoes and a small matching bag and beamed with satisfaction.
‘That’s excellent,’ she said. ‘And now I’m going to choose a new gown for myself.’
So for the next hour, roles were reversed as Josephine tried on various gowns and sashayed up and down in them, asking Amy for her opinion. They eventually both agreed on one in a rich, sapphire-blue velvet, and as their purchases were being carefully wrapped they then chose a new day coat for Amy and smiled at each other like two schoolgirls.
It was late afternoon by the time they left the shop, and once out on the pavement, Josephine sighed with contentment.
‘Do you know,’ she said regretfully, ‘I would love to go on, but unfortunately I’m still rather weak after my illness, so I’m afraid it’s time that we headed for home or Samuel will be getting concerned.’
She hailed a passing carriage and when the driver drew the horse to a halt, Amy helped Mrs Forrester inside, where she sank back gratefully against the seat. They arrived home tired but happy to find Mr Forrester waiting in the hallway for them.
Samuel’s eyebrows rose as he noted the parcels in the hall that had already been delivered. ‘Mm, been spending all my hard-earned money, have you?’ The words were stern but Amy was relieved to see that his blue eyes were shining with affection as he looked at his wife. He couldn’t remember when he had last seen her looking so happy, and decided that whatever her little shopping expedition had cost him it was worth every penny. Old Maude Forrester had been impatiently waiting for the shoppers’ return too and now her voice carried to them along the hallway, ‘Well, get yourselves in here then an’ let’s have a look at your purchases.’
They hastily joined her in the drawing room but Josephine stubbornly refused to let them see either of the gowns.
‘You’ll just have to wait until we wear them to the theatre,’ she told them determinedly and no amount of persuasion would make her change her mind.
It didn’t stop Amy from showing Nancy her dress though, last thing at night in the privacy of her room. ‘Cor, you ain’t ’alf lucky,’ Nancy sighed dreamily as Amy held the gown to her. ‘I know,’ Amy said. ‘I just can’t believe how kind the Forresters have been. I never thought that things like this would happen to me.’ She hung the dress on the wardrobe door and joined Nancy on the bed where they sat admiring it.
‘The Forresters are kind people,’ Nancy said pensively as she tucked her knees beneath her chin and wrapped her arms around them. ‘When I first come ’ere I felt as if I’d died an’ gone to ’eaven – a clean warm bed to sleep in, food on the table an’ not having to worry about me da rollin’ in blind drunk all the time. ’Sides that, me wages have helped me ma out no end. I still missed ’er though, even if she were a bit rough an’ ready.’
Amy’s kind heart went out to her. At least she had always had Molly’s unconditional love and a stable home-life.
The girls lapsed into silence. The rest of the household had long since retired to bed and now all they could hear were the night sounds of London through the slightly open window.
‘I’d never really met Mrs Forrester properly until we set off to come here,’ Amy confided to her new friend eventually. ‘But I do think that she’s a lovely lady. I used to dream that my mother would be just like her …’ Her voice held such a wealth of sorrow that Nancy peeped at her from the corner of her eye.
‘Did yer never know yer ma then?’
‘No,’ Amy admitted sorrowfully. ‘She died just after I was born and my gran brought me up.’ She had never told anyone that before but she found Nancy remarkably easy to confide in.
‘An’ what about yer da?’ Nancy probed gently as she hugged her knees.
‘He died too in an accident before I was born.’
‘Cor, that’s really sad,’ ‘Nancy sympathised. ‘But what about yer gran? Is she kind?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Amy was quick to answer. ‘She’s been my whole world and I don’t know what I would do without her.’ She began to tell Nancy all about the little cottage they lived in and her friend listened, enthralled. She had never stepped outside of London and the sound of the cottage where Amy lived, skirting rolling green fields, sounded idyllic. She had been brought up in the back streets with only cobbled alleyways as her playground, yet still she begrudged Amy nothing. It was not in Nancy’s make-up to be envious. She had an optimistic cheery nature and instead of dwelling on what might have been she tended to count her blessings.
‘Well, I reckon yer’ve done wonders fer the mistress,’ she now told Amy. ‘I’ve ain’t never seen her so happy as she has been this visit an’ I reckon yer’ve got somethin’ to do wiv that.’
When Amy cocked a curious eye at her, Nancy grinned. ‘I reckon it’s because yer remind her of Miss Jessica, her daughter. I ’eard Cook sayin’ yer was the spittin’ image of her.’
‘And do you think I am?’
Nancy shrugged. ‘I couldn’t rightly say. I’ve ain’t been ’ere that long but Cook can remember both Master Adam an’ Miss Jessica when they was nippers, and she says they were as close as two peas in a pod. Apparently, Miss Jessica thought the world of ’er little bruvver an’ there weren’t an ’appier family walkin’. But then, as yer probably know, when Miss Jessica was nearly grown, she ’ad an almighty ruckus wiv the master an’ he ordered ’er from the house. Nobody seems to know what it was about though, an’ Cook reckons he regretted it almost immediately. But as far as I know she ain’t been seen from that day to this, which I suppose accounts fer the mistress usually bein’ so low.’
Amy’s heart ached for her kindly mistress as she listened to the sorry tale.
‘Master Adam ain’t been quite the same since Miss Jessica left home neither, accordin’ to Cook,’ Nancy went on. ‘Apparently he married Miss Eugenie wivin months of ’er bein’ gone. Eugenie is from a very well-to-do family an’ they reckoned ’e worshipped the very ground she walked on. But that didn’t last fer long. She’s given him an ’ell of a life, poor sod. I ’ate it when she comes here, dishin’ orders out left right an’ centre. Cook says she wanted a family an’ when no babies were forthcomin’ she blamed poor Master Adam. Plus, she never lets ’im live down the fact that she’s ’igh above ’im in class, because her father is Sir Something-or-other. She reckons she married below ’erself an’ she treats ’im an’ the rest of us like dirt now. Still, Cook reckons he’s lookin’ to get a house of ’is own soon in London, so wiv a bit o’ luck when he finds one we won’t ’ave to see
her
again.’
Amy nodded in the darkness. Having sampled a taste of Eugenie’s temper herself, she could well believe what Nancy was saying.
When Nancy finally retired to her own room, Amy lay in bed gazing at the gown that was catching the light of the moon as it shone through the window.
One way or another it had been a long day and soon she slipped into a contented sleep.
The following Monday, Mr Harvey allowed Amy to serve a customer for the first time. She was looking very smart in her new skirt and blouse, and when the customer had finally gone he congratulated her on her efforts. The woman had wanted a hat to wear for her daughter’s wedding and had not been easy to please. But Amy remembered what she had been taught – ‘The customer is always right’ – and patiently brought one hat after another for the woman to try on until she had tried almost every hat in the shop. Eventually, to Amy’s delight, she chose one of Amy’s own designs and went away with it in a smart hatbox, very pleased with her purchase. Amy was amazed at how many women did come in wanting hats to wear for weddings and as she pondered on this, an idea began to form in her mind.
Immediately after dinner that evening, Amy retired to her room and set about sketching. By the time she arrived at the shop the next morning she was eager to share her idea with Mr Harvey, but they were all kept extremely busy and it was mid-afternoon, when Miss Drake had left, before she got the chance. At last she fetched her sketches and laid them out on the counter before him. Besides being an expert salesman, Mr Harvey also had a very good eye for detail and she would value his opinion as he had a knack of seeming to know what would appeal to the customers.
Slowly thumbing through the sketches, he listened to what Amy had to say. The designs were extremely good and he had to admit that he was impressed with them.
‘I’m sure there would be a market for these,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I’ve been amazed at how many of your customers come in looking for wedding hats, and if we could offer a range for the bride as well as for the bride’s mother … Well, we might make a double sale, particularly when word got around.’
He stroked his chin thoughtfully, peering through his pince-nez at the drawings. Amy could just have a point and he had never been one to dismiss a good idea without giving it a chance.
