CHRISTMAS PRESENT

I spotted it in a junk shopping Bridport,a roll top desk. The man said it was early nineteenth century,and oak. I had wanted one,but they were far too expensive.This one was in a bad condition,the roll top in several pieces,one leg was clumsily mended,scorch marks all down one side.It was going for little money.I thought I could restore it.It would be a risk,a challenge,but I had to have it. I paid the man and brought it back to my workroom at the back of the garage.I began work on it on Christmas Eve.

I removed the roll top completely and pulled out the drawers.The veneer had lifted almost everywhere - it looked water damage to me.Bothfire and water had clearly taken their toll on this desk.The last drawer way stuck fast.I tried all I could to ease it out gently.In the end I used brute force. I struck it sharply with the side of my fist and the drawer flew open to reveal a shallow space underneath,a secret drawer.There was something in there. I

reached in and took out a small black tin box.

Sello taped to the top of it was a piece of lined notepaper, and written on it in shaky handwriting:"Jim's last letter, received January 25,1915. To be buried with me when the time comes." I knew as I did it that it was wrong of me to open the box but curiosity got the better of my scruples. It usually does. Inside the box there was an envelope.The address read:"Mrs Jim Macpherson,12 Copper Beeches, Bridport Dorset."I took out the letter and unfolded it .It was written in pencil and dated at the top-"December 26,1914".