I take out a heavy, red beaded dress, with fine shoulder straps and a deep V-neckline, which wouldn’t look out of place in any high-end boutique even nowadays. I nod slowly and my heart gives a leap as I recognize it from a story she once told me with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. It was one of my favourite stories of hers, one I asked her to tell me many times over.
It’s the dress she wore that made Peter’s eyes almost popout of his head. It was the dress she wore when he spontaneously proposed to her in New York City.
‘Oh, Mabel!’ I say, lifting the dress out with tender loving care, fingering the fine silk base and the tiny beads that decorate the bodice so tastefully. I stand up from the floor and hold it under my chin, my mouth open with glee at how I’m actually holding a piece of history in my hands. The skirt drops and falls into place, and swirls as I sway, hugging it now close to me. I can barely speak. I’m right back in time.
I close my eyes and I picture the scene. I feel her anticipation, her excitement, and the romance of it all.
‘Wow, that’s a pretty amazing dress,’ says Aidan, looking up at me from his position on the floor. ‘That’s a piece of history, right there.’
I can hardly speak and I want to dance around the place with the man of my dreams in this dress one day. I want to feel the love that she felt, and I want to know that there’s magic and companionship out there for all of us, if we find the right person.
‘There’s something pinned to the back of it. Is it a note?’ Aidan tells me. ‘I think she’s left this dress for you.’
My eyes widen and I try not to let my hopes build up. Could this be the keepsake I’ve been waiting for? Could she really have wanted to pass this on to me?
I find a small envelope pinned to the side of the dress, then sit back down on the floor as Aidan and I exchangeglances of anticipation, both eager to see what is coming next.
I put my hand to my chest.
‘I’m nervous,’ I say, unable to get a grip on my emotions. ‘I know how much this dress meant to her, but I’d no idea she still had it.’
From the envelope, I slide out a photo, which has a note paper-clipped to the back. I look at the photo first and Aidan shuffles over beside me, sitting so close that our arms touch.
Slowly, I open my eyes and look down at the photo in my hands to see Mabel, wearing this very special red dress looking back at me. Her hair is a pale blonde, styled in soft messy waves, long parted bangs, and a small bouffant. Her eyeliner is winged and feline, while her lips are pouting and full. She was an absolute beauty, but it’s not Mabel who steals the show in this photograph. It’s the man beside her, and it’s the way he looks at her with a mixture of admiration, awe, and lust. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before in my whole life.
I flip over the photo and I read aloud a note written in Mabel’s neat hand.
Aidan, this photo is for you, my darling boy. I know how much family means to you, so this is my favourite photo of your Uncle Peter, taken on the night he proposed to me in New York. We called this photo ‘the look of love’– I don’t think I need to explain why! But I want you to have it for reasons that only you can interpret. I hope it gives you direction and guidance for the rest of your life.
We love you, Aidan. We always will.
‘Wow,’ I whisper. ‘Gosh, they really were like something from a movie, weren’t they?’
‘That’s pretty awesome,’ says Aidan as he takes the photo from me and we both stare at it a little longer.
I catch my breath and he reads aloud to me now.
Roisin, this dress is now yours, my little rose. I know you will wear it well, but please do so only when you find a man who looks at you the way my Peter looks at me in this photograph. I know he’s out there somewhere for you. Promise me you’ll never give up on finding him, and when you do, that you’ll never let him go.
Mabel x
I bite my lip as tears prick my eyes, and I look up at Aidan. Our eyes lock, and for a fleeting moment I can hear my heart beat in my chest and my hands shake as I take the photo back, still looking at Aidan, who is looking at me.
‘Anyone for coffee?’
Camille’s voice echoes up the narrow stairwell and I hear her footsteps on the wooden stairs in what is perfect timing.I have no idea what just happened, but what I do know is that Aidan has made his way to the window again and is staring outside. Something is bothering him deeply – something that perhaps has nothing to do with Mabel or Ballybray. I can tell by how one moment he is laughing and joking then the next he just switches off, that he has remembered something in real life that is anchoring him down.
Or maybe it’s just grief, and I’m putting two and two together and coming up with five.
‘Yes please, that would be amazing, thanks Camille,’ I manage to respond.
I try to distract my mind from Aidan’s pain by picturing Mabel, in her beauty and prime, linking Peter’s arm as they walked down 42nd Street, looking very much the pretty woman with her gorgeous man beaming with pride beside her. Jazz music spills out of open doors, trying to lure them into basement bars, but they’re too caught up in each other to notice. I can hear Mabel’s thin stiletto heelsclick-clickingon the sidewalk, her infectious bursts of laughter as she throws her head back so seductively, the way she looks up at Peter beneath her luscious lashes, stroking the warmth of his woollen suit on his arm as he blows cigarette smoke into rings into the night sky.
And then I look down at the photo, and the red dress that lies draped over my lap in real life, here in Peter’s home town of Ballybray all these years later, and I’m in absolute awe.
I don’t think I’ll ever find a man to look at me the way Peter Murphy does Mabel in that photo. I don’t think I’ll ever find a man who could make me feel the way Peter made Mabel feel.
Promise me you’ll never give up on finding him, and when you do, that you’ll never let him go.‘I won’t,’ I whisper to Mabel and I hold the dress up to my cheek, drifting back in time to her heyday when she found the love of her life in New York, all the way from Ballybray here in Ireland.
