He laughed at whatever comment she had passed and as the sun slid behind a cloud the joy suddenly went from Amy’s day.
She was in a sombre mood when she arrived back at the cottage and Molly was quick to pick up on it.
‘What’s up wi’ you then – have yer lost a bob an’ found a penny?’
‘No, no, Gran, I’m just tired, that’s all. I reckon the last few weeks have caught up with me.’
Molly placed her evening meal before her, but Amy moved the food about listlessly before finally pushing it aside and rising from the table.
Molly kept a close eye on her until eventually Amy joined her at the side of the low fire.
Dropping to her knees, she placed her head into her gran’s lap and Molly gently began to stroke her hair.
‘I saw Toby on his way home tonight,’ Amy mumbled. ‘He was walking with Cathy Hickman, you know the one? She lives in the village; I used to go to Sunday school with her.’
‘Oh aye, I know the one,’ Molly replied. ‘Turnin’ up on Bessie’s doorstep regular as clockwork now, she is. I reckon she’s set her cap at Toby.’
She waited for Amy’s reaction but when none was forthcoming she went on, ‘A nice girl, is Cathy. As I said to Bessie, Toby could do far worse fer himself. But then again I’m amazed he’s escaped the net fer this long. Toby would make a fine catch for any girl and no mistake.’
Amy rose abruptly, confused by the feelings that were flowing through her. She had always imagined that Toby would always be there for her, solid and steadfast like her gran and their little cottage. The thought of life without him was unthinkable. But then as Molly had pointed out, Toby was well past the marrying age.
Heading for her bedroom, she said huffily, ‘I’m off for an early night, Gran. If Toby comes round, tell him I was tired. Night.’ And with that she was gone.
As Molly listened to her stamp away up the stairs, she raised her eyebrows. Could it be that Amy was finally realising what a good husband Toby would make? She could only hope so.
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