‘A human skull’
When clearing out my parents’ house in Harrow we found a human skull in the attic. They relocated to Ireland in 2021, and after a few days clearing out their junk, I found a box. Something about it made my whole body scream, “Danger! There’s something weird in there!” I opened it, pulled out the bubble wrap and a human skull rolled out into my lap. I screamed bloody murder. My mum’s first reaction was: do we put it on eBay?
We called my brother, the voice of reason, who told us that we should most certainly call the police, so we did. Two young policemen turned up, and as we all stared down at the skull, one commented, “Well, this isn’t your normal Tuesday.” Forensics were called in, and since the skull had no ID number, this meant it could have been a murder victim. The top floor of our house was sealed off as a crime scene.
The story of how the skull arrived in our attic is just as barmy. My parents’ best friend came to live with us when we were children, lodging in the attic room. He was a brilliant fine artist. He started an affair with a local jewellery shop owner, whose work was very skull-oriented. She brought him the human skull (given to her by her Hells Angel husband), asking him to do a drawing of it for her and the shop. When he moved out, he apparently forgot to take it with him.
Who did the skull belong to? After a long wait with forensics, we were told it was from the 1800s, and so was likely the victim of grave robbing. The police sensitively disposed of the item. I hope whomever it belonged to is finally at rest. I feel a special fondness for them, knowing I shared my childhood home with a long deceased stranger, and had no idea. Karis Kelly, 35, playwright, Walthamstow
‘Film, photos and letters dating back to the 1930s’
I bought a Victorian house in the Manchester suburbs and in 2022 I found several boxes abandoned in the loft containing cine film, photos and letters from north-east England dating from the late 1930s discussing the second world war and expat life in east Africa. I’ve held on to everything in the hope we’ll one day reunite them with family. The cine film appears to be in very good condition, though not in a currently popular format – 16mm, I think – so I’ve not been able to view them. The owner was clearly a keen photographer, and his wife a keen gardener, judging by photos and her results.
There are at least 20 rolls of the film, which I’m guessing date from 1949-1954 and presumably contain much of their life in Tanganyika (now part of modern-day Tanzania). There are a few books on photography as well as several booklets and pamphlets on plants and gardening. There are some personal and business letters, mostly dating from and concerning their return from Africa to the UK, as well as shipping lists and invoices. Finally, there are over 60 loose photographs of family, children, weddings and sightseeing in Egypt, Iceland and other places dating from pre-second world war, in military service, in Africa and the UK. Many are photographs of their two children (a boy and a girl).
We’re not sure how they came to be there nor why previous owners of our house hadn’t come across them. There is no record of WR Clark and family having previously owned our house, though they may have rented it. There is, however, one large photo of the Beatles from BBC Publications addressed to their son, to an address quite close to where we lived. At the time, we tried to trace any family or relative of the Clarks, but without success. Bernard Robinson, 80, Derbyshire
‘Eleven boxes full of used corks’
In our loft we found 11 boxes full of used corks. I’m not sure what the previous owner was keeping them for, other than to remember some happy evenings drinking the contents, or holidays in France and the duty-free booze brought back. I might have to spend the next decade turning them into an artwork, but it will involve a lot of drilling, sticking and threading. We tipped two or three of them into the biggest box we could find, pictured above. Andrew Gray, Newcastle upon Tyne
‘A film of the Corona London to Holyhead Cycle Race, 1964’
When we bought our house, we didn’t go into the attic for quite a while. When we did, we found a large 16mm colour film of the Corona London to Holyhead Cycle Race 1964. Some previous owner of the house had loaned it from a now defunct company called Guild Sound & Vision in 1972 and never returned it. We donated the film to the BFI archive, who were very pleased to get it as they didn’t have a copy. Jeff Warren, 55, Surrey
‘An 18th-century mathematics copybook’
It was 1986 and we had recently moved into an old house in Cumbria, in a village near the Solway. There were a couple of large, dilapidated outbuildings. One had an attic with only a small trapdoor. When I first peered in, it seemed completely dark and empty. A few weeks later, I decided to investigate more fully. As I hoisted myself up into the darkness, a single shaft of bright sunlight shone through a slipped slate and illuminated a dusty, cobwebbed corner where lay an old book. It had a battered leather cover, which enclosed many yellowed and dogeared pages. I carefully brought it into our kitchen, where we gingerly opened the delicate pages. We were astonished to find that it was a handwritten illustrated book of mathematics, with dozens of beautifully inscribed pages detailing hundreds of mathematical and algebraic problems.
Later, we took it to the local museum in Carlisle, Tullie House, where they identified it as an 18th-century mathematics copybook, owned and kept by one John Robinson of Lessonhall, Cumbria in 1753. We think it ended up in our attic after a child of a previous owner of the house had taken it up there to play with. On a few pages, there are additional colourings and sketches that look more recent. It’s a beautiful book, which has given us much pleasure – and been an item of great interest to fellow academics and our grandchildren. We will eventually donate it to a museum. Jeff Adams and Wendy Hyde, West Kirby, Wirral
‘Boxes of possessions belonging to a Victorian family’
We bought a house last year, which had been occupied by the previous tenant since 1963. My husband was doing work on the attic and discovered items from a Victorian family called Baker dating back to 1896. Large boxes of possessions had been left behind and never reclaimed – photos, many books, journals, business and mortgage documents, schoolwork and even an ancient umbrella.
I searched online and discovered records of the father, mother, stepmother and five children, with three of the family members buried in the local cemetery. They were clearly a religious and relatively wealthy family, working in Leicester’s textile industry. The latest relative I could trace – the only son of the eldest son – died in London 20 years ago. I wish we knew what became of the children and why nobody ever came back for the boxes. It has made me thoughtful about what items we may ourselves leave behind. Lidia, 33, Leicester
