the same girl she loved. The subject of Amy leaving home was never mentioned again.
Now with a last glance at the letter on the shelf, Molly dragged herself from her comfy chair. Amy would be home soon and the old woman had no doubt that she would be ready for a good strong brew. It was bitterly cold outside and although it was only five o’clock in the afternoon the lane outside was already as dark as pitch. After pushing the sooty kettle into the heart of the fire, Molly measured some spoonfuls of tea into the well-used brown teapot and shuffled away to check the shepherd’s pie that was cooking in the oven of the black-leaded range. Happy now that all was as it should be, she returned to her chair and settled back to wait for Amy’s return.
Meanwhile, Amy was hurrying through the cobbled streets of the town centre, gripping the smart overnight valise that she had treated herself to for her stays in London. She had left the house in Kensington that morning in a happy frame of mind following a most enjoyable early-morning gossip with Nancy. Married life was obviously suiting her and Amy had never seen her friend so happy. Nancy was getting along famously with Billy’s mother, so much so that their plans to start searching for a home of their own had been temporarily shelved. Even now, months after the wedding, all she could talk about was her wonderful Billy and what a lovely wedding they had had. After leaving the house, Amy’s day had continued on a good note. Each of the shops she visited was doing extremely well and she knew that Mr Forrester would be pleased when she passed on the news to him tomorrow.
Humming to herself, she hurried along and soon was passing the Parish Church on the last leg of her journey home. She thought how pretty it looked with the frost on the roof sparkling in the glow of the new gas lamps that had recently been installed, but then her thoughts turned to François as they so often did and she wondered if there would be a letter from him waiting for her when she got home. She smiled at the thought. She now had a whole pile of letters from him all tied with a ribbon and tucked beneath her mattress. But sometimes lately she had to screw her eyes up tight and concentrate with all her might to remember his face in detail. Still, she supposed that this was to be expected. After all, it had been some long months now since she had returned from Paris, and she had been so busy that many things about the trip were slowly fading in her memory.
When she entered the warmth of the kitchen, the smell of the shepherd’s pie greeted her and she said, ‘By, Gran, that smells good enough to make my mouth water.’
Molly chuckled. ‘Well, sit yourself down at the table then an’ get some of it inside yer. Then you can tell me all about what’s been goin’ on in London.’
Amy obediently took off her coat and bonnet and after hanging them on the smart new coat-stand and having a good wash to get rid of the grime of the journey, she gratefully tucked into the plateful of steaming food that Molly placed in front of her.
Between mouthfuls she told her gran of all the news from London and as always, Molly listened avidly. She now heard so much about Nancy and the staff in the shops that she felt as if she knew them personally, for Amy could almost bring them to life with her tales.
‘Has anything interesting happened here while I’ve been away?’ Amy asked casually,
Knowing exactly what she meant, Molly nodded towards the mantelpiece. ‘Well, there’s another letter from Paris arrived if yer could call that interestin’,’ she said.
Amy’s eyes lit up as she hurried to the shelf and popped the letter into the pocket of her dress. ‘Oh, thanks. I’ll read it later.’
Molly’s eyebrows rose but she had no time to comment because at that moment, Toby ambled in.
Seeing Amy, he smiled. ‘Ah, so you’re back again then. I was just callin’ in to see if yer gran needed her coal-scuttle fillin’. But seein’ as you’re here I’ll do it and be on me way.’
‘Can’t you stay for a drink?’ Amy asked him when he had brought more coal in and was washing his hands. ‘There’s fresh tea