Postcard Stories // Louie & George

If you'd like to lose me for an hour or two steer me in the direction of an antiques shop and I'll happily flick through boxes and boxes of postcards until I've found an intriguing message, battered Victorian photograph or unopened letter to bring home!

Over the years I've slowly started building a little collection of postcard curiosities - glamorous silent film actresses sent to old school friends in 1922, souvenir postcards with a beautifully written 'wish you were here' etched in 1951, colourful cartoons with holiday messages written in 1916 - if it catches my interest it's mine! Luckily, antiques sellers are usually knowledgeable and kind in equal portions, so don't mind me dumping my bags and sitting on the floor next to a dusty box for the better part of a Thursday afternoon.

Knowing the types of lovely readers I have, I thought you'd love to join me for a new series I'm starting called 'Postcard Stories'. Here, we'll have a read of a postcard snatched from the past and try and speculate about what happened to the writer and receiver together - trust me, there are some sordid little stories tucked up in the back of antique shops across the country!

Louie & George

This time we're meeting Louie (I'm assuming short for Louise), who has managed to squeeze so many beautifully crafted words onto half a postcard that I feel as though I'm familiar with her busy thoughts and earnest heart. The picture caught my eye first off - I can't think there was ever a hint smacked down in front of a sweetheart as unsubtle as this before!

This lady is on a mission - that's for sure!

My untrained eyes, so used to reading simplistic computer fonts, can just about make out her beautiful handwriting. To make sure the internet has the benefit of Louie's story, it reads as follows:

My Dearest George,
Just a PC trusting this will find you in the very best of health.
Well my Dear, I am very much put out to think you did not come
up tonight. I did not know what to think.
I waited for you until 7:30 but it was all in vain.
I do hope there is nothing the matter.
Well my love I must tell you I shall be out Thursday evening
6:30 at the fountain so trusting to see you at that time.
I am longing to see you again. I got your Mother's stockings so
will give them to you tomorrow evening when I see you.
So now I must close with love & kisses,
from your own ever-loving sweetheart Louie.
Love to all. Goodnight
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x

How. About. That. Can't you just see Louie waiting by the fountain, wearing her best gloves and anxiously clutching her hands together in anticipation for George? Why did George not turn up?

To say Louie is keen on George can only be an understatement - I mean she's darned his mother's stockings! She seems an absolute sweetie and was perhaps, I think, too kind for her own good.

Adding an ever-intriguing backdrop to this story is the postmark, dated April 16th 1914. Just two months after Louie posted this the most devastating war the world has ever seen broke out across Europe, and if George was anything like the patriotic young men of the time he most likely signed up alongside them. My mind is still reeling with possibilities. Did Louie and George end up together? Did they marry before the war? Did George come back from the war at all? Did he shaft Louie beforehand? And most importantly - did George's mum ever get her stockings back?! We might never know...

If there's a way I can check marriage records you can sure bet I'll be posting an update on 'Louie & George' - the couple left half-written.

What do you think happened between them?

If you would like to follow along with 'Postcard Stories' along with my other posts, you can follow Snug  on Bloglovin', Instagram and Twitter.

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