The Ribbon Weaver (16 page)

Chapter Ten

For the next week Amy barely had time to think of anything as the very next day Mrs Barradell was taken home from work suffering from severe pains in the spine. Her back had been troubling her for months until now it was almost unbearable. Mr Forrester had ordered her not to come back until she was fully recovered. It was whispered that she was lying in bed with a board beneath her mattress to help relieve her suffering, and that she could remain that way for weeks.

Surprisingly, although Amy was still as yet only classed as an apprentice, it was to her that the designers now came for advice, and she found herself almost rushed off her feet. She saw very little of Toby or even of her gran, for that matter. She would arrive home at night and fall exhausted into bed.

The following week, yet another order arrived from London and the factory was working overtime already. Word came that Mrs Barradell was slightly improved and Amy was pleased to hear it as she liked Meg Barradell. She had been so busy that she had had to forego her weekly visit to Forrester’s Folly and she found that she missed it. She had become very fond of old Mrs Forrester and enjoyed their chats and lively discussions on designs. Underneath she felt it might be a long time before she could even think of going again, as they were all so busy trying to meet the latest order. She also guessed that although it was said that Mrs Barradell was on the mend, it would be some while before she was fit to return to work again. However, on that score she was very quickly proven to be wrong, for the very next morning, Meg Barradell hobbled into the factory leaning heavily on Mr Forrester’s arm.

Mr Forrester quickly whispered something into Mrs Davis’s ear and she began to hurry about, asking the workers to stop their machines. Slowly the factory ground to a halt and after sitting Mrs Barradell on a chair, Mr Forrester took up his usual position on the staircase to address his workforce.

‘I am sorry to pull you from your labours.’ He grinned as a ripple of amusement went through the factory and he held up his hand to silence them. ‘Before I begin what I have come to tell you, I would just like to say that I appreciate how hard you have all been working. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed, I assure you!’

He stared out at the sea of upturned faces; many of those there had worked for him for years. Then on a more solemn note he continued, ‘As you will all be aware, Mrs Barradell here has recently been unwell with back pains. It is a recurring problem that has troubled her for many years, and I must say it is to her credit that she has never let me down.’ His eyes were kindly as he looked down on his loyal employee’s scarlet face.

‘Yesterday I visited Mrs Barradell at her home and we both agreed that it is time she retired. She will be a great loss to us all, as I am sure you will agree, which is why I asked her to come here today to say goodbye to you all.’ He paused and then went on softly, ‘I have searched my mind for an appropriate leaving gift for this dear lady. A gift that would befit someone who over the years has become my right hand.’

He was now making his way down the staircase, and when he stopped before Mrs Barradell’s chair he withdrew a long sealed brown envelope from his inside jacket pocket and placed it into her trembling hands.

‘Please accept this,’ he said humbly, ‘with my heartfelt thanks for all your years of loyal service, and know that you will be sadly missed.’

Necks craned as Meg Barradell fumbled with the seal. When at last it was broken she tore her eyes from her master’s and withdrew a stiff parchment. Then, as her eyes scanned the paper, her mouth suddenly gaped and tears sprang from her eyes.

‘Why – it’s the deeds to me cottage, and made out in my name.’ Her voice was incredulous but Samuel Forrester only smiled.

‘It’s no more than you deserve,’ he assured her, and pleased at her reaction, he again turned to his workers.

‘Now to my next issue.’ His voice was businesslike again. ‘Obviously yesterday when Mrs Barradell and I met to discuss her retirement we were also obliged to discuss appointing her replacement. As we all know, the design department is the very heart of our business. No matter how well the hats are made, if the design is unpopular then we lose trade. On this decision I must admit I was happy to be governed by Mrs Barradell’s opinion. Lately, as you all know by the hours of overtime you have been forced to work, to meet our orders, we have been doing extremely well. In fact, I am already in the process of setting on more workers to meet the demands. Much of this success is due to a young lady whose new ideas and designs have been like a breath of fresh air. I am referring of course to Miss Amy Ernshaw.’

Amy’s eyes almost started from their sockets.

‘Therefore,’ Samuel grinned, ‘I am delighted to say that I am following Mrs Barradell’s sound advice and appointing Miss Ernshaw as the new Head of Design.’

A murmur of approval rippled through the crowd and the next moment they were applauding and all smiling her way.

Amy wanted to pinch herself to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming, but as the workers streamed across to shake her hand and clap her on the back, it slowly sank in. It was true; she was the new head of the design department. Her dream had come true.

Before Samuel Forrester left to take Mrs Barradell home he made his way across to Amy and shook her hand warmly.

‘Congratulations, my dear.’ He smiled at her. ‘You deserve it, and may I tell you that my mother is delighted too. She has taken quite a shine to you, if you did but know it. Anyway, I would much appreciate your calling at The Folly tomorrow at two o’clock prompt. There are a few things that my mother and I need to discuss with you. And furthermore, I think I may have some more good news for you. At least, I hope you’ll think it is. But then, I’m sure it can wait until tomorrow. I think you’ve had quite enough of a shock for one day.’

Amy nodded dumbly into his smiling face and turning about, Samuel Forrester hurried away.

She was bursting to share her good news by the time she got home that night. She nearly fell inside the cottage in her haste, but then wondered if her good news had somehow preceded her, for there seemed to be a party going on already. Molly, Bessie and Toby were all seated at the table, a half-empty jug of ale and a bottle of elderberry wine between them. They all seemed to be in good spirits and Amy beamed at them.

‘Oh, so you’ve heard then,’ she said.

Molly nodded. ‘Oh aye, lass, we’ve heard all right. It’s wonderful news, ain’t it? Bessie here is as proud as a peacock.’

Toby raised his glass to her, more than a little tiddly. ‘I reckon I’ll enjoy being an uncle.’

‘A what? What are you on about?’ Amy was totally confused.

‘Why – the
baby
, o’ course. Our Mary is to have a baby. Me mam’s goin’ to be a gran just like yours.’ He fell about laughing at his own joke as Bessie cuffed him playfully around the ear.

‘Cheeky young bugger,’ she grinned. ‘I just hope that the little ’un has better manners than its uncle.’

As the meaning of their words sank in, Amy pulled up a chair to join them and her eyes shone.

‘You mean Mary is expecting a baby?’ She was so delighted that she momentarily forgot her own good news.

‘She is that. About seven more months, the doctor reckons, so you’d best get yer knittin’ needles out, or better still, get designin’ some baby bonnets.’

The mention of bonnets brought Amy’s mind back to her own news.

‘Well then, we’d better make this a double celebration as I’ve got some good news of my own to tell you.’

‘Oh, God above, don’t tell me you’re wi’ child an’ all,’ Molly cackled playfully.

Laughing, Amy slapped her hand. ‘Now then, Gran, I reckon you’ve had enough of that wine, you know it always goes to your head.’ Her voice was stern but her eyes were dancing, and now that she had their attention she hurriedly began to tell them of the day’s events. She was so excited that her words ran one into the other, and every now and then she had to stop to draw breath.

‘I’ll tell you, you could have knocked me down with a feather,’ she confided as they stared at her in awe.

Molly shook her head as if to clear it, then placing her hands firmly on the table, she stared into Amy’s sparkling eyes.

‘You mean to tell me,
you
are the new head o’ the design department?’

When Amy nodded, Molly gaped incredulously.

‘Well I’ll be,’ she muttered softly. ‘Didn’t I allus say my girl was destined fer better things?’

‘Yer did that, Molly, yer surely did,’ Bessie agreed. ‘By, what wi’ our Mary’s news and now this on top, well, it’s turned out to be a day to remember an’ no mistake.’

Toby, who had said not one word whilst Amy had been speaking, leaned across the table and squeezed her hand.

‘I always told you you could do it, didn’t I?’ he said quietly. ‘You were always meant for greater things.’

And inside his heart was saying, ‘Yes – far greater things than I could ever offer you,’ and although he smiled and offered his congratulations, inside he knew that she had gone yet one step even further away from him.

She arrived at Forrester’s Folly promptly at two o’clock the next day, boldly going to the front door as the elderly mistress had told her to. Lily was sick and confined to bed in the servants’ quarters, so it was Mary who opened the door to her and gave her a crafty wink. She looked smart in her frilled apron and mob cap, and as they walked along the huge hallway, she whispered, ‘Well done, Amy.’

Amy grinned at her. ‘You too,’ she whispered back, and Mary proudly patted her stomach. Then she knocked sedately at the door, formally announced the visitor and showed her into the study before quietly withdrawing.

Mr Forrester and his mother were waiting for Amy and both immediately noted her glowing cheeks and bright eyes.

‘So, how’s our new Head of Design feeling today then?’ asked the old woman.

Amy beamed at her. ‘I’m feeling wonderful.’

‘Good, good, well come and take the weight off your feet. You know I’m not one for formalities and then, happen when we’ve had a cup of tea, I’ll have something to tell you that will make you feel
even more
wonderful.’

Amy was intrigued and sat impatiently while another maid pushed the tea-trolley in. As was habit now, once the maid had gone, Amy began to set out the cups and saucers and pour out the tea, but it was not until Mrs Forrester was noisily sipping that she spoke again.

‘Do you think that you can handle your new position?’ she questioned bluntly.

Without hesitation, Amy said, ‘Yes I do, ma’am, although I am very aware that I still have a lot to learn.’

‘Good – that’s exactly what I thought, which is why I’ve come up with an idea.’

Amy remained silent but stared at her curiously.

‘As you may be aware, I lived for some years in London in Samuel’s townhouse, until I came to Forrester’s Folly,’ the old lady went on. ‘In actual fact, I was the one responsible for opening Samuel’s shop there. And I also helped Adam to open his shop there too.’

Amy hadn’t known that and she listened with interest.

‘It was in London that I learned a lot. Now
there’s
a place to learn. Puts this backwater to shame it does, for fashion. Anyway – I got to thinking and I reckon that a month in London would do you the power of good. Let you see how the other ’alf live. Samuel ’ere agrees wi’ me, so what I’m proposing is we all go. It won’t be a holiday, mind – you’ll spend a lot of time working there, getting some new ideas into your ’ead. What do you think?’

Amy was speechless and the cup she was holding began to rattle in its saucer.

‘It will also give us a chance to get you some more fashionable clothes – not that yours ain’t perfectly clean and respectable, o’ course,’ the old lady added hastily, not wishing to cause offence. ‘But as the head o’ the design department, part of your duties will be meeting with the buyers and suchlike, so we’ll need you to look the part.’ Her piercing blue eyes bore into her but Amy could only nod speechlessly.

‘Good, good. That’s settled then.’ Taking Amy’s silence for agreement the woman nodded with satisfaction. ‘You get off ’ome now and clear it wi’ your gran, and then we’ll set a date, eh?’

Again, Amy could only nod soundlessly and Samuel, who had been listening to the interchange with amusement, quickly stepped in. ‘All right, Mother, that’s enough for now. I think you’ve made poor Amy quite lose her tongue.’

Turning his attention to the dumbstruck girl he said kindly, ‘Off you go, Amy. Take the rest of the day off and talk it over with your gran as my mother has suggested. But do please assure her that you will be very well chaperoned and well taken care of. If she has no objections to you going, I thought we might take the train from Trent Valley station to Euston in London, and then we can go from there to our family house by pony and trap. My wife and mother will be accompanying us, and if you have never visited London before I think I can safely predict that you will find it most interesting, as my mother has already said.’

‘Y … yes, sir.’ Amy’s voice came out as little more than a squeak. Everything was happening so fast that she could barely take it in, and suddenly she longed to escape so that she could put her thoughts into some sort of order before seeing her gran.

On legs that seemed to have developed a life of their own, she stood up and, after excusing herself, set off for home. Her mind was so full that she even forgot the formidable Eugenie as she almost floated across the well-tended lawns. It wasn’t until she reached the shelter of the bluebell woods that her footsteps slowed and she hugged herself with excitement. Not only was she now the head of the design department but she was going to London too.
London!
To Amy, who had never been further than her hometown it seemed like a world away. Oh, she had seen pictures of it in books that Toby had shown her, but the thought of actually
being
there made her dizzy. Her lively imagination was running riot. Suddenly throwing back her head she laughed aloud and clasping her arms about the trunk of a great tree she hugged it fiercely as if it could share her joy. Then, gathering up her skirts in a most unladylike manner, she sped from the woods at breakneck speed, intent on getting home and sharing the news with her gran.