The Ribbon Weaver Read Online Free PDF Page B

sorely.
    Noting the unshed tears in Bessie’s eyes and guessing at her feelings, Molly rose noisily from the table. ‘I think this calls for a celebration,’ she said loudly, winking at Amy and Beatrice, and the two little girls clapped their hands with glee and went to fetch the others.
    Within minutes they were all tucking into great wedges of Molly’s own home-made sponge cake and the occasion took on a party atmosphere with much giggling and laughing. But all good things must come to an end and eventually Bessie rose, eyeing the mantel clock.
    ‘Come on then, you lot,’ she grinned. ‘Let’s be havin’ yer back round home. Yer dad an’ Toby will be home from work soon and expecting to find their meals on the table.’
    With much merriment the little family departed and after clearing away the pots into the deep stone sink, Molly set about preparing their own meal of scrag end of lamb with a good handful of barley and carrots.
    Amy hurried away upstairs and soon reappeared with her treasured pencils and papers, and within minutes was seated at the old oak table contentedly drawing. Molly never ceased to be amazed at Amy’s sketches. She was obviously going to be a gifted artist, for already she could draw pictures that could put the work of most adults to shame. Were she to be given the choice between a new pencil or a sweetmeat, she would choose the pencil every time.
    Lately she had taken to drawing hats, and when she went into town with Molly she would always insist that they stopped before the hat-shop window so that she could admire the designs. Forrester’s Millinery hadn’t been open for long and was doing extremely well, as did most of Samuel Forrester’s ventures. He already owned nearly all of the ribbon factories in Abbey Street and another hat shop in the nearby town of Atherstone as well as one in London.
    But then Molly begrudged him none of his success. It was a well-known fact that Samuel Forrester was a selfmade man who had worked himself up from selling ribbons from a barrow in the town centre to being one of the wealthiest men in Nuneaton.
    It was at his home that Mary would be going to work. Forrester’s Folly had been the talk of the town when it was built almost twenty-five years before. It was a folly of Regency architecture with turrets and towers, built on the outskirts of Caldecote, a little hamlet approximately three miles outside of Nuneaton. Samuel had ordered it to be built after announcing his engagement, and it was even said that he himself had set to and helped the workmen to build it with bricks all made and fired in Nuneaton.
    Samuel Forrester had married far above his class and it was to Forrester’s Folly that he had taken his new bride once it was completed. The couple had lived there ever since, and it was known that Samuel Forrester still doted on his wife who was said to be a beautiful fragile creature. It was rumoured that he was a hard taskmaster but fair, and Molly had no doubt that Mary would be well cared for once she had entered his employ. She suspected that beneath his crusty exterior beat a heart of gold and had heard over the years of many kindnesses he had done for employees of his who had fallen prey to illness or hard times. It was actually he who paid her wages and those of the many other weavers hereabouts who worked at their own looms, for they all sold their ribbons to the factories in Abbey Street, many of which were owned by Samuel Forrester.
    He was often to be seen about. A tall dark handsome man, he regularly walked about the town and visited the factories, although the same could not be said about his family. Of them he was extremely protective and private. It was thought that his wife had given him only two children, a son and a daughter, but no one was really sure, for he guarded them jealously. When he was young the son had been sent away to a private school, whilst his daughter had been educated at home by a governess until she was in her