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Back A Season for Hope
Chapters (57)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Chapter One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Chapter Thirty-Three
  36. Chapter Thirty-Four
  37. Chapter Thirty-Five
  38. Chapter Thirty-Six
  39. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  40. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  41. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  42. Chapter Forty
  43. Chapter Forty-One
  44. Chapter Forty-Two
  45. Chapter Forty-Three
  46. Chapter Forty-Four
  47. Acknowledgements
  48. About the Authors
  49. Also by Rosie Goodwin
  50. Welcome to the world of Rosie Goodwin!
  51. Letter from Author
  52. Meat and Potato Pie
  53. The Precious Stones series
  54. The Days of the Week Collection
  55. Mothering Sunday
  56. Victorian Tales from Memory Lane
  57. Memory Lane Club

‘Good choice, lass. Pretty but practical.’ The cobbler nodded approvingly. ‘An’ what colour leather would yer like ’em made in? I’ve got a nice bit o’ soft brown here that would work a treat wi’ that style an’ I can have ’em ready fer you a week from today.’

Amber almost skipped back to work and that evening, instead of dreading the empty hours ahead, she could hardly wait to get started on her new gowns.

Mrs Carter kindly helped her cut them out. ‘I think we should go for a really full skirt and pretty short sleeves on this one,’ she suggested as she fingered the sprigged cotton. ‘It will be your Sunday best after all. And perhaps something a little more restrained for the russet one?’

Amber nodded. ‘And can we please allow for me letting them out as the baby grows? And perhaps I should make the russet one first so that I have a smart dress to wear in the shop?’ she said in a small voice.

Mrs Carter nodded in agreement and began to snip.

*

When she and her uncle returned from work on the following Monday, Amber found a letter from her mother waiting for her. She longed to open but first she had to have dinner with her uncle. He was pedantic with his habits and Mrs Carter always served their meal at six fifteen on the dot. As usual the meal was plain but wholesome. Tonight they were served lamb chops with freshly chopped mint sauce, creamed potatoes and vegetables followed by one of Mrs Carter’s delicious apple pies with creamy custard. The pudding was one of her uncle’s favourites and he helped himself to seconds before finally excusing himself and retiring to his study where he would enjoy a glass of port and a cigar with his newspaper as he did every night after his evening meal.

At last Amber could open the letter from her mother so she hurried up to her room where she would not be disturbed. Like all the other rooms in the house, it was plainly furnished but even so it was far grander and larger than any other room she had ever slept in and Amber never tired of the panoramic view across the sea from the window.

Dear Amber,