To: Professor Mary Beard

Somewhere among the busts of marble men, Cambridge-ish

Subject: “Do you know anything about Roman curses that involve jam?”

Dear Professor Beard (or Mary, if I may – I’m sure we once shared a bench in a colonnade somewhere near Cirencester, although it may have been a Co-op car park),

I trust this finds you in good spirits and unmolested by vengeful household gods. I am writing regarding a small but unnerving discovery unearthed from the northern quarter of my compost heap (not the one by the goose shed – the other one, behind the rusting wheelbarrow that smells faintly of fish guilt).

I was turning over some rather fussy rhubarb when I came upon what I am convinced is a Roman curse tablet. It was scratched onto what looks like an old Birds Custard lid, but bears all the hallmarks of Latin malevolence. The inscription (transcribed below) appears to read:

> “LEGVMEN ATRAMENTVM DAMNATVS CVM FRAGARIA ET NVX”
(Roughly: “May he be cursed with jam of darkness, strawberry and nut-based.")

It was buried beneath a stone shaped like a duck, which quacked once and then did not again. My neighbour Carol says it might have been the wind, but she also believes beetroot is a sin, so I’m wary of her opinions.

The upshot is this: since unearthing the object, my preserves have turned inexplicably runny. Even my quince jelly has assumed the texture of lukewarm regret. There’s also a persistent whispering whenever I open the cupboard that holds the jam jars – something about “vengeance of the vinegary one.”

I enclose a rubbing of the object (done in beetroot on kitchen roll – sorry, the printer is full of wasps), and a photograph of a ghostly thumbprint I found inside a jar of bramble and rosehip. I would be most grateful if you could advise on the following:

1. Should I rebury the object?

2. Is there a traditional Roman counter-curse involving scones?

3. Do you have a reliable recipe for plague-resistant marmalade?

Do let me know if you’d care to visit for a cup of tea and a rummage in the haunted larder. I can promise you a biscuit and mild supernatural peril.

Yours in jam and jeopardy,
Virgil Twobyfour
Shwami-in-Residence
Senior Member, Order of the Slotted Spoon
Current Guardian of the Wasps Nest Library (East Wing)

P.S. I’m told by my niece’s optician’s hairdresser that you had a birthday recently – many happy returns! You’re catching up to me, Young Mary, but I’ve got the lead by a brisk several decades.