Letters From an Antique Desk That Cost Me 1400 Quid: Letter 1
Author’s note: I frequent the shops at Burberry Square once a month on Sundays when the stores display their wares directly on the footpath, and snack vans are conveniently stationed every 20 meters or so to keep us shoppers shopping. The outdoor portion of the market had been rained out for three months in a row, which meant no pavement shopping, which meant I stayed home. (The novelty of a closed street and selecting goods from the footpath is what I like about those Sundays. That and the burger van just south of the K6 red box.) My point is, I was very eager to buy something on that fourth month, which is probably how I ended up spending some fourteen hundred pounds on an antique desk. And all that to say I found a series of letters wrapped in a cutting of an old ship sail, underneath a false bottom in the middle drawer (I didn’t notice when I purchased it but when I went to examine my impulse buy, I could tell that the drawer was a different depth than the others). And I know there may be ethical or moral dilemmas about posting writing that is not mine on here, but I thought for posterity and general interest I’d share the content of these letters, in part because they are so sensational at times that I can only assume they are farcical and don’t carry any true personal secrets, and in part because the oddities they contain are quite intriguing.
Here is the first letter:
29 February 1872
Dearest Mary,
I shan’t write too long, as I can see Lord Garreth’s carriage at the gates to our estate. I think today is the day! Papa made the grounds staff work double yesterday to prepare the gardens, I can tell poor old Falk has hit his limit. Can you believe he’s been with the family some fifty years?
The azaleas are quite the sight, how I wish you could visit. I do hope when you return to the countryside we may both finally discuss our nuptials (and not in the hypothetical way as we did for much of our childhood).
For now, I must tell you about an odd circumstance I witnessed earlier today from the drawing room window. I noticed Cranston (our second butler if you remember) acting quite out of sorts, carrying a small wooden box, a little larger than the size of his hands, out of the azalea maze. I think Falk may have discovered it there, because he had been digging up weeds one moment (having already trimmed the hedges the poor dear) and the next, I could partially see him standing and talking to Cranston. I then saw Cranston with the box, brushing dirt off each of its sides. It must have been a trick of the light, (maybe the sun reflecting a metal clasp?) but I swear to you, Mary, as I live and breath, the box appeared to be glowing from the inside!
More later my dearest, I hear Lord Garreth’s horses approaching!
Sincerely,
Jane
All of the letters published so far may be found here:
