she suggested. ‘I’ll fill that stone bottle with nice hot water and bring it up to you, eh?’
Molly nodded; if she were honest with herself she was feeling far from well and wishing that she hadn’t ventured out today. Amy had begged her not to go but she had been saving the money she usually gave to the coalman by coalpicking from the slagheaps. She had seen a lovely woollen coat in a pretty shade of burgundy in a shop in town and had been saving the money so that she could surprise Amy with the coat for a combined birthday and Christmas present.
‘I’ll warm that stew up before you go to bed so that you get something hot inside you, shall I?’ Amy offered, but Molly shook her head as she struggled from the chair.
‘No thanks, lass. To be honest I ain’t hungry. Just me bed’s all I need, you’ll see. I’ll be fit as a fiddle in the mornin’ after a good night’s sleep. I’ve just picked up a bit of a cold.’
Amy’s troubled eyes caught Toby’s as Molly hobbled off to the stairs. Her bed was upstairs in the tiny room next to the one that housed her loom.
‘See yer lock up now when Toby’s gone,’ Molly ordered as she climbed the wooden staircase. ‘Goodnight, me darlin’s.’ Every step was an effort. She felt as if she was climbing a mountain and ached in every bone in her body.
The two young people watched her slow progress, and when she was out of sight, Amy said worriedly, ‘She does too much.’ Pushing the plug into the large stone bottle she had just filled from the kettle, she wrapped it in an old pillowcase, saying, ‘I’ll just take this up to Gran and then I’ll show you the sketches I did last night.’
Toby nodded and his eyes followed her as she skipped lightly up the steps. Then, turning, he placed one hand on the mantelpiece and stared down into the flames, his thoughts racing.
Amy would be fifteen soon and old enough to marry, and he would have plucked up the courage and asked her in a second, if he’d thought she’d accept. But in his heart he knew that she wouldn’t, and it hurt him deeply. Oh, he had no doubt that she loved him, but as a brother, whilst his own feelings for her had been growing steadily with the years. Why else would he still be living at home at twenty-two years old with his mam and dad? Still, life had its consolations and as long as he could see her and be near her every day, then he was happy.
When Amy had tucked the stone bottle into the bottom of the bed she pulled the counterpane up to Molly’s chin and planted a gentle kiss on the old woman’s brow. The skin felt feverishly hot and Amy said, ‘Look, Gran, if you need me in the night just call, eh? I’ll be in straight away.’
Molly offered her a weak smile. ‘Will yer just stop fussin’? I’ve told yer all I need is a good night’s rest an’ I’ll be right as rain. Now be off with yer an’ let me get some sleep.’
Amy grinned and within seconds was back in the kitchen with Toby where the grin slid from her face. ‘I’m really worried about her,’ she confided fretfully. ‘Do you think I should fetch the doctor in?’
Toby shook his head. ‘No, Molly’s a tough old bird, happen she’s just caught a chill as she said,’ he reassured her, and soon they were sitting with their heads bent at the table, as Amy showed him her latest sketches.
Upstairs in her tiny room, Molly lay shivering beneath the heavy layers of blankets. She had on a warm flannel nightdress, a thick woollen shawl and knitted bedsocks. Yet even with all these and the hot stone bottle pressed to her feet she couldn’t seem to get warm, and sleep evaded her. She was thinking of the two young people whom she loved most in the whole world, who were at this minute sat together at the kitchen table, no doubt poring over some book or sketch.
This winter was taking its toll on Molly and it wasn’t even Christmas yet, which meant there were still months of cold weather to come. Lately it was becoming harder
Molly nodded; if she were honest with herself she was feeling far from well and wishing that she hadn’t ventured out today. Amy had begged her not to go but she had been saving the money she usually gave to the coalman by coalpicking from the slagheaps. She had seen a lovely woollen coat in a pretty shade of burgundy in a shop in town and had been saving the money so that she could surprise Amy with the coat for a combined birthday and Christmas present.
‘I’ll warm that stew up before you go to bed so that you get something hot inside you, shall I?’ Amy offered, but Molly shook her head as she struggled from the chair.
‘No thanks, lass. To be honest I ain’t hungry. Just me bed’s all I need, you’ll see. I’ll be fit as a fiddle in the mornin’ after a good night’s sleep. I’ve just picked up a bit of a cold.’
Amy’s troubled eyes caught Toby’s as Molly hobbled off to the stairs. Her bed was upstairs in the tiny room next to the one that housed her loom.
‘See yer lock up now when Toby’s gone,’ Molly ordered as she climbed the wooden staircase. ‘Goodnight, me darlin’s.’ Every step was an effort. She felt as if she was climbing a mountain and ached in every bone in her body.
The two young people watched her slow progress, and when she was out of sight, Amy said worriedly, ‘She does too much.’ Pushing the plug into the large stone bottle she had just filled from the kettle, she wrapped it in an old pillowcase, saying, ‘I’ll just take this up to Gran and then I’ll show you the sketches I did last night.’
Toby nodded and his eyes followed her as she skipped lightly up the steps. Then, turning, he placed one hand on the mantelpiece and stared down into the flames, his thoughts racing.
Amy would be fifteen soon and old enough to marry, and he would have plucked up the courage and asked her in a second, if he’d thought she’d accept. But in his heart he knew that she wouldn’t, and it hurt him deeply. Oh, he had no doubt that she loved him, but as a brother, whilst his own feelings for her had been growing steadily with the years. Why else would he still be living at home at twenty-two years old with his mam and dad? Still, life had its consolations and as long as he could see her and be near her every day, then he was happy.
When Amy had tucked the stone bottle into the bottom of the bed she pulled the counterpane up to Molly’s chin and planted a gentle kiss on the old woman’s brow. The skin felt feverishly hot and Amy said, ‘Look, Gran, if you need me in the night just call, eh? I’ll be in straight away.’
Molly offered her a weak smile. ‘Will yer just stop fussin’? I’ve told yer all I need is a good night’s rest an’ I’ll be right as rain. Now be off with yer an’ let me get some sleep.’
Amy grinned and within seconds was back in the kitchen with Toby where the grin slid from her face. ‘I’m really worried about her,’ she confided fretfully. ‘Do you think I should fetch the doctor in?’
Toby shook his head. ‘No, Molly’s a tough old bird, happen she’s just caught a chill as she said,’ he reassured her, and soon they were sitting with their heads bent at the table, as Amy showed him her latest sketches.
Upstairs in her tiny room, Molly lay shivering beneath the heavy layers of blankets. She had on a warm flannel nightdress, a thick woollen shawl and knitted bedsocks. Yet even with all these and the hot stone bottle pressed to her feet she couldn’t seem to get warm, and sleep evaded her. She was thinking of the two young people whom she loved most in the whole world, who were at this minute sat together at the kitchen table, no doubt poring over some book or sketch.
This winter was taking its toll on Molly and it wasn’t even Christmas yet, which meant there were still months of cold weather to come. Lately it was becoming harder
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