The Ribbon Weaver - By Rosie Goodwin Page 0,160

him one evening when her gran had retired to bed. His mouth gaped in amazement as he looked at the scar as if he was seeing it for the first time. ‘You … ugly?’ He laughed as his head wagged from side to side. ‘You could never be ugly, not even if you were covered in boils,’ he told her.

‘But what do you think François’ reaction will be when he first sees me like this?’

Toby considered his reply for some time before saying, ‘I would hope he would see the same girl that he saw the last time he came here. ‘Cos that’s what I see. To be honest, I never even notice it.’

Amy had sighed, hoping he was right. But then, François was not Toby.

‘The doctor that Mr Forrester contacted in London is coming to see me in November,’ she told him. ‘He thinks that my leg should be healed enough to measure me for my wooden one by then, and he says that if I try very hard and persevere with it, I will be able to walk down the aisle without my crutch.’

Toby lowered his eyes. It was hard to think that Amy would be a married woman next year. His thoughts moved on to Annie. She had never made a secret of the fact that she was his for the taking, but lately he had got the feeling that she was growing impatient with him, so perhaps it was time that he did something about it. His life was going to be very empty once Amy was gone, and a lonely future stretched ahead of him.

Yes, he thought to himself. I’ll call in an’ see Annie on me way home from work tomorrow. He knew that he would be welcome, but he did not tell Amy of his intentions. She was too wrapped up in her own wedding plans to care.

Now that Amy was no longer staying at The Folly, time was weighing heavily on Josephine’s hands and so she renewed her efforts at finding Jessica, badgering Mr Burrows almost daily.

Samuel was growing increasingly concerned about her. She seemed to be slipping back into the melancholy place that she had been in for years following Jessica’s disappearance, and he had no idea at all what he could do to stop it. He was also worried about Adam. The young man seemed to have lost all interest in everything, even his businesses, which were being kept going now by temporary managers who Mr Forrester had employed both in London and Nuneaton to take Adam’s place. There was no way that he could see to the running of them and his own as well. The only thing he could hope for was that it would be a temporary measure, but as time moved on he began to have his doubts.

It was on a bitterly cold Saturday afternoon in October, when the leaves were fluttering from the trees, turning the lawns of The Folly to russets and gold that Josephine returned from one of her frequent visits to Mr Burrows.

Samuel was sitting in the drawing room reading his newspaper and Adam was slumped in the bay window staring out across the grounds when she joined them and promptly burst into shuddering sobs.

‘Why, my dear, whatever is the matter?’ Samuel was out of his seat in a second and leading her to the settee.

‘Despite all his best efforts Mr Burrows has still not been able to discover anything at all about Jessica’s whereabouts since the night that Molly found her in the church doorway.’ Josephine’s sobs were echoing around the room and tears were spurting from her eyes. ‘And today, he said he fears there is no more he can do. He said it might be as well if we settled up what we owe him and leave our daughter in the past. But how can I do that, Samuel? When our child might still be out there somewhere, in need of us. Oh, I just cannot bear it.’ And she broke into a fresh torrent of sobs that were heartbreaking to hear.

Adam stood up from his seat and strode past his parents without a word, his face set. Once in the shelter of the stable-block he dropped his head into his hands and began to weep.

It was there that Seth found him sometime later when he came to feed the horses. He had loved this young man almost like his own since the second he had drawn breath, and

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