She glanced up at the shelf above the hanging rail. One side was full of folded jumpers and cardigans. The other half seemed to contain nothing but a rolled-up yellowing duvet. Elizabeth thought it might be useful if the heating didn’t come on, so she pulled it forward. It spilled out into a large soft pile at her feet. With the duvet gone she could see a dark wooden box shoved right to the back of the wardrobe. She couldn’t remember ever having seen it before and reached in to retrieve it. Disappointingly, it didn’t feel very heavy. She placed the box on the floor and knelt in front of it. Wiping the dust from the lid, the dark sheen of the wood was revealed. Walnut? The corners were protected by small inlays of brass. She hoped it wasn’t locked. No, the lid lifted easily. Peering in, the contents were a bit of an anti-climax: a tiny yellow knitted baby booty and beneath that a thin pile of letters held together by an ancient cream ribbon. Elizabeth slipped the first letter from the pile and began to read.
*
Castle House,
Muirinish,
West Cork
30 November 1973
Dear Lonely Leinster Lady,
I’m not really sure how to begin. I have never replied to one of these ads before. I suppose I should just tell you a bit about myself and you can see if you like the sound of me!
I’m forty-one, so well below your cut-off age of fifty! I’m six feet tall and I still have most of my hair. I enclose a photograph so you can decide if I am decent-looking or not! I’m a farmer, which you specified you were looking for. The farm is near Muirinish in West Cork. It is one hundred and twenty acres but if I’m being honest only eighty are any good, the rest being a sea marsh. It’s a dairy farm, which I enjoy even though it’s a bit of a tie.
So why is this great catch on the shelf? Well, things haven’t been easy at home. My brother was running the farm after my father died but then when I was seventeen he was killed in an accident so I had to take it over and help my mother as much as I could. It meant I have found it very hard to get out to meet anyone and to be honest it has also made me a bit shy. Time has a way of slipping by and I felt I had to do something about finding a wife before it was too late.
Because of milking it would be difficult for me to get up to see you but I would be happy to meet you in Cork city for lunch or even a cup of tea. If you wanted me to send you the train fare I’m sure that could be arranged. I don’t want to sound rude but it would be good if you could also send me a photograph so I can see if you are as lovely as you sound!
I hope to get a letter back but if I don’t then I wish you happiness in your life.
With every good wish,
Edward Foley
*
Castle House,
Muirinish,
West Cork
15 December 1973
Dear Patricia,
Thank you very much for your letter. I was very happy when I got it. Thank you also for your photograph. You are as lovely as I had imagined. Well guessed about my photo – yes, it was taken at a steam rally in Upton!
My sympathies for the loss of your mother. It must be very hard for you especially with Christmas coming. It is a shame your brother has not been more help to you. I didn’t mention in my last letter but I live with my mother. Don’t worry! If I find a wife we have planning permission for a bungalow so you would be the lady of the house! Not that I’m counting my chickens of course!
I am very happy that you want to meet up in the new year. My mother says the Metropole Hotel do a nice carvery and it is almost beside the station. Does that sound suitable? To tell you the truth I am very nervous about it and I hope I’m not too quiet for you.
I hope you have a good Christmas and you aren’t too sad.
With every good wish,
Edward
Castle House,
Muirinish,
West Cork
3 January 1974
Dear Patricia,
Thank you for your card. Was the town on the front Buncarragh? My mother says thank you as well.
I am very excited about next week. I’ll meet you off the train. Hopefully we will recognise each other from our photographs but just in case I’ll be standing by the Cork Examiner kiosk just by the entrance. I’ll be wearing a tweed jacket, because to be honest I only have the one decent jacket!
It’ll be a bit early for the lunch but maybe if the weather isn’t too brutal we could go for a walk along the river first. If I am a bit quiet please don’t think it is because I don’t like you. I’m just not sure how I will be with the nerves.
See you on the 10th – oh and if your train is delayed don’t worry, I will wait.
With every good wish,
Edward