“Ouch!” yelled Dad as he, yet again, hit his huge finger with the hammer. The house renovations were being more difficult than usual. Currently, he was attempting to remove an access panel in the window without much success.

“What’s that?” asked Barnaby, pointing at an odd piece of wood.

“Don’t know. Oi, looks like someone’s written on my window frame!” replied Dad.

Barnaby read the inscription: P De La Mare 9th Oct. 1899. In the void between the granite, Barnaby noticed something hiding. Carefully, he pulled out an envelope that felt brittle, thin and dry. The letter inside was yellow with age and it smelt musty, but its words were clear:

“I leave these words in the hope that they end up in the hands of another.A new century is about to begin. This year has been a hard one for our island. We are still grieving after the terrible loss of 109 souls from the SS Stella off Casquets. Such a catastrophe shows how fragile our days have become.

I attended a memorial service today at Candie Gardens to remember those lost. The Michaelmas daisies were in bloom - so bright, so hopeful - and their beauty lifted my spirits.

You see, my dear future reader, even after sorrow, the future lies ahead, and I am excited to see what it brings to life.

Pierre De La Mare”

“Well, he’s dead!” joked Dad.

“It’s not funny!” corrected Barnaby.

“Ok! I’m sorry. I think we need to keep it safe. After all, it is a part of our house’s history.”

Though Dad was right, and Pierre De La Mare was long gone, his words found a new home in Barnaby - because letters, once written, have a way of out-living their authors.

*Inspired by a real finding whilst renovating.