Mr Forrester swirled his port about in his glass and peered into its depth, considering. ‘Well, from a purely selfish point of view I would be sad to lose her so soon,’ he admitted. ‘But if François was asking her for the right reasons and it was what Amy wanted, then I would not stand in their way.’
Monsieur Laroque stared into the fire with a wide smile on his face. ‘Then that is good,
monsieur
, and it would certainly cement our partnership. Why, with our two businesses combined there would be no stopping us. Come, let us drink to young love.’
And their glasses clinked merrily together.
The next morning, Amy arrived back at The Folly bright and early. There were just two days to go to the ball and she was buzzing with happiness. Also, today she intended to take François to meet her gran. She found him just leaving the dining room when she slipped into the hallway, and he instantly hurried to meet her. He noticed that she was looking extremely pretty in an elegant sky-blue day suit, with a jaunty little plumed hat perched on her head, and he gazed at her sparkling eyes and rosy dimpled cheeks admiringly.
‘Today we shall spend the whole day together, yes?’ he asked beseechingly.
Without hesitation she nodded. ‘Yes, we shall, François. I am going to show you our shop in town and then I shall take you to meet my gran.’
He clicked together his heels and bowed gallantly. ‘I am yours to command,
mademoiselle
.’ He laughed as, hand-in-hand, they made their way out into the summer sunshine.
The day turned out to be very enjoyable. Amy gave him a guided tour of her hometown and introduced him to the staff in the shop as well as in the factory. The women were enchanted with him and blushed as he kissed their hands. François obviously found it all very interesting, if tiny compared to Paris.
Amy eventually led him back to the carriage, telling him, ‘I shall take you to meet my gran now.’
‘Lead the way,
ma petite
,’ he agreed, and soon the coach was swinging through Attleborough on its way to the cottage.
When it drew up outside, François jumped out and stared at the humble dwelling. ‘This is your home?’ he asked.
Amy nodded as he helped her step down from the coach. ‘Yes, it is. But do excuse my gran if she is a little quiet, won’t you? She hasn’t been at all well.’
When they first entered the cluttered little kitchen, François had to screw his eyes up so that they could adjust to the gloom after the bright sunshine outside. And then he slowly looked around in amazement. The cottage was tiny. He noted the crude dresser and the flagstone floors with gaily-coloured peg rugs scattered here and there, and wondered how two people could manage to live in such a confined space. However, he also noticed that everywhere was sparkling clean and extremely comfortable. As he stood there with his hat held respectfully in his hands, Amy hurried over to an old rocking chair that stood beside a highly polished brass fender that was placed around a low burning fire. Sitting in the chair was an old woman who was eyeing him suspiciously, and advancing on her he held out his hand.
‘You must be Madame Ernshaw.’ He bestowed his most charming smile on her and then, taking the wrinkled hand that Molly extended to him, he bowed respectfully and kissed it.
‘I am that, lad. But yer can call me Molly; everybody else does an’ we may as well start as we mean to go on. Now sit yerself down there an’ let me have a look at yer.’
Moving his coat-tails to either side of him, François perched uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa.
He saw the pride shining in Amy’s eyes as she looked down at the old woman, and as their eyes met he sensed the strong bond between them. It was hard to believe that a young woman as intelligent and beautiful as Amy had grown up in such surroundings and with such a wizened old guardian, but she obviously loved her.
Molly brought his thoughts back to her when she asked bluntly, ‘So what do yer think o’ Nuneaton then?’
François flashed her another dazzling smile. ‘It is most interesting,
madame
.’
She nodded before turning her attention back to Amy and barking, ‘Well, have yer forgot yer manners, gel? Get that kettle on. I’m sure as François could manage a brew an’ I know I could. I’m as dry as a bone.’
Not understanding her use of the local slang, François was perplexed, and Amy smothered her laughter with her hand as she told him, ‘You will have to excuse Gran. I’m afraid she’s not one for putting on airs and graces, as I’m sure you will discover over time.’ Then, leaving them to chat, she hurried away to do as Molly had told her.
When the lovers left, Molly sat staring broodily into the fire, and it was there that Bessie found her when she entered the cottage a short time later.
‘Well, I saw Amy turn up wi’ her handsome Frenchman. What’s he like?’ she demanded.
Molly dragged her eyes away from the fire and looked up at her, her eyes bleak.
‘He don’t seem a bad sort, Bessie,’ she admitted grudgingly, ‘but I’ll tell yer now, he ain’t the one fer my Amy. They’re from two different worlds, as different as chalk from cheese.’
Bessie hitched up her ample bosom before asking cautiously, ‘Are yer goin’ to tell Amy that?’
‘No, I ain’t.’ Molly shook her head slowly. ‘It ain’t my place to interfere. Amy’s old enough to make her own mind up an’ she’ll have to learn from her own mistakes, same as we all do. She’s movin’ in different circles now; hobnobbin’ wi’ the gentry. O’ course, there’s no reason why she shouldn’t, seein’ as it’s turned out she’s gentry herself. I always told yer I thought she were a cut above, didn’t I? But I just worry about her, that’s all. She were brought up here, a world away from the types o’ places she’s visitin’ now, an’ it’s a big change fer her.’
‘Yes, you did always say that Amy were somethin’ special.’ Bessie’s head wagged in agreement. ‘An’ it turned out that you were right. But yer know, Molly, I think underneath all her fancy clothes, Amy is still the same lass that you brought up as yer own, an’ it will take a lot more than a fancy-talkin’ Frenchman to alter that. She may have the Forresters’ blood flowin’ through her veins, but it’s your morals that she lives by an’ it’s you that’s made her the person she is. Amy’s got her head screwed on, so don’t go worryin’ about her unnecessarily, eh?’
Molly sighed as she pulled her shawl tighter about her scrawny shoulders. At the end of the day all she really wanted was for Amy to be happy.
The day of the ball dawned bright and clear, and Amy skipped about the cottage as she prepared breakfast for her gran and herself. Her own gown and Molly’s were pressed and hanging on the back of the door, and every time she looked at them she smiled. She could hardly believe that Molly had agreed to attend the ball with her, and could scarcely wait to show her off, although she was a little apprehensive about how Molly would cope with such a formal occasion. Molly was a home bird through and through, never happier than when she was sitting at her own fireside, but Amy hoped that she would view the event as a treat and enjoy herself.
Once the tea was mashed, she took a cup up to Molly – but the second that she set foot in her room she knew that something was wrong. Her gran’s face was as white as the linen pillowcases that she lay upon and her chest was rising and falling rapidly.
‘Gran, what’s the matter?’ Amy cried as panic gripped her.
Molly looked at her wearily. ‘Oh, it’s just this damn cough again, lass,’ she told her in a weak voice. ‘It’s had me up half the bloody night, so it has, an’ I don’t feel as if I’ve been to bed.’
‘Right, that’s it then. Enough is enough. I’m going to fetch the doctor!’ Amy declared, and when Molly began to protest she slammed the cup of tea down on the small chest-of-drawers at the side of the bed and glared at her. ‘You can moan as much as you like, Gran, but this has gone on for
quite
long enough. I don’t usually go against your wishes, as you well know, but this time I am going to fetch the doctor whether you like it or not.’ And so saying, she swung about in a swish of skirts and hurried away.
Amy went through the back door intending to take the short-cut across the fields and as she banged it to behind her, Bessie, who was in the process of putting a dripping sheet through the mangle in her back yard, called over to her, ‘Where are you off to in such a tearin’ rush, pet?’
Amy sped past her, shouting across her shoulder, ‘I’m going for the doctor. Gran isn’t well again so I’ve put my foot down. She should have let me fetch him weeks ago.’
Bessie nodded at her retreating back as she dried her hands on her coarse calico apron. ‘Well, I’m with yer there, gel. You’re right, but take yer time an’ I’ll go an’ stay with her till yer get back.’ And true to her word Bessie pottered away, leaving the sheet to steam in the warm sunshine.
The doctor arrived almost two hours later. By then, Molly was feeling slightly better. Bessie had helped her to wash and dress, and she was sitting in her chair by the fire.
Even so, the big man tutted when he had finished examining her. ‘That’s a rare bad chest you have on you there, Mrs Ernshaw,’ he scolded. ‘You should have seen me sooner and then I could have given you something to stop it from getting to this stage.’
‘Pah! You know I ain’t never been one fer runnin’ to the quack wi’ the least little ailment,’ she grumbled.
The doctor winked at Amy. ‘Happen this time you should have. Now I’m going to give you some linctus and I want you to take it three times a day. And just mind you
do
take it, otherwise Amy will tell me. Besides that, I want you to rest. You’re not as young as you used to be, Molly, and I’m sure that Amy is quite capable of seeing to anything that needs doing, so just do as you’re told for a change, eh?’
Molly muttered something under her breath and when he had snapped his bag shut Amy saw him to the door.
‘Does this mean that Gran shouldn’t go to the ball tonight?’ she asked.
The doctor looked at her regretfully. ‘I’m afraid it does, Amy. It wouldn’t do her any good at all in her present condition. If we are to clear that chest of hers she should stay in the same temperature.’
Amy was unable to hide her disappointment as Bessie squeezed her arm sympathetically. ‘Never mind, love, there’s absolutely no reason why
you
shouldn’t still go. Me an’ Toby will see as she’s all right, I promise. Those grandparents of yours have gone to a lot o’ trouble to organise this affair, so you just get ready an’ leave the rest to us. Yer gran will be as right as ninepence, you’ll see. An’ she’d hate for yer to miss it.’
Amy looked at her kindly neighbour, feeling as if she was being torn in two. One half of her wanted to stay with her gran. The other half of her recognised the truth of Bessie’s words, for the Forresters had pulled out all the stops to arrange this ball in her honour. It looked set to be an occasion that would be remembered for a long, long time to come, so how could she let them down?
Seeing the dilemma she was in, Molly, who had been listening intently, added her comments to Bessie’s. ‘Don’t even
think
o’ not goin’, my gel,’ she told her sternly. ‘I shall be perfectly all right here wi’ Bessie an’ Toby. To tell yer the truth, I’m relieved. Yer know I ain’t never been one fer fancy dos. But I ain’t half lookin’ forward to seein’ you all dolled up in yer glad rags.’
Knowing when she was beaten, Amy sighed heavily then set about cleaning the cottage. She was no match for her gran and Bessie when they stood together, and well she knew it.
Amy was still getting ready in her bedroom that evening when Toby arrived at the cottage and she heard her gran chatting away to him. Molly loved nothing better than for Toby to sit and read to her, and it was a comfort to know that she would be leaving her in safe hands.
Turning her attention back to the reflection in the mirror, Amy eyed herself critically. Deciding that her gown was too sophisticated for her hair to hang loose, she began to pile it on to the top of her head. Once it was clipped into place she began to tease it into long fat ringlets that framed her heart-shaped face. The springing curls seemed to have developed a life of their own and she struggled with the style for some time, wishing that Nancy were there to help her. Nancy could do in minutes what it always took Amy ages to achieve. But at last it was done and rising from her dressing-table stool she shook out her stiff taffeta skirts and headed downstairs to the kitchen.
Molly and Toby were deep in conversation but they stopped speaking when she entered and gazed towards her in awe. Her gown was in a shade of palest gold, which complemented her thick auburn hair, and it was richly embroidered with silk burgundy thread all around its lowcut neckline. Apart from the embroidery the dress was perfectly plain and she wore no jewellery whatsoever, which only seemed to add to the stunning effect.
Deeply embarrassed at the way they were staring at her, Amy flushed. ‘It’s very good of you to come round and stay with Gran, Toby,’ she told him sincerely. ‘I hope that Annie didn’t mind.’
It was Toby’s turn to flush now as he dragged his eyes away from her to stare at the copper pans that were gleaming in the firelight. ‘I weren’t seein’ her tonight anyway as it happens,’ he mumbled.
Now that Amy came to think of it she realised that she hadn’t seen Annie around for some time. She was just about to comment on the fact when they all heard the sound of the carriage approaching and she dashed away to get her cloak and her evening bag from her room.
Toby was waiting by the door when she came back downstairs and he held her cloak for her while she ran to plant a gentle kiss on Molly’s thinning hair.
‘Goodnight, Gran. Don’t get waiting up for me, I shall likely be late in.’
‘Well, just be sure an’ have a good time,’ Molly said, flapping her hand at her. ‘Now get yourself away, gel, an’ leave an old woman in peace, eh?’
Amy stood as Toby draped her cloak about her shoulders and just for an instant their eyes met and she found herself thinking how incredibly blue his were … But then the moment was lost as the coachman rapped sharply on the door, and flustered, Amy turned away from him, her heart racing. With a final wave she was gone and Toby felt as if his heart was breaking.