First to arrive in the barn is Peter from Blackpool, carrying a shattered violin that once belonged to his late wife's grandfather Sigmund. A gifted Jewish musician from Vienna, Sigmund – along with his violin – was imprisoned in Theresienstadt concentration camp during the Second World War. The camp played an important role in Nazi propaganda and was used to paint a false picture of conditions for international visitors, including the Red Cross. As part of that subterfuge, Sigmund was ordered to form an orchestra that would play to visiting dignitaries on such occasions. Now dried, cracked and broken from years hanging above a fireplace, it poses a mammoth challenge for violin restorer Becky Houghton, who painstakingly dismantles it, repairing its fractured body, filling cracks and preserving every mark left by Sigmund's hands. 

From Aberdeenshire, Katy Fennema and her mother Alison arrive with a weather-beaten enamel sign from the family's long-gone Highlands garage. The business, founded in 1901 in Braemar's snowbound Castleton district, served motorists for decades and provided a living for generations of Alison's family. Bent double, rusted and shorn of some of its lettering, the sign symbolises a proud lineage of hard work and hospitality – but right now, it's looking far from proud. A new face in the barn steps up to take on the job: Glaswegian printmaker and gilder Alasdair Mackay. With a bit of welding help from Dom Chinea, Al straightens the buckled metal, fills its deep scars and repaints its lettering with precision, all while preserving the precious patina. 

Next, Charlie Smith from North Yorkshire brings a delicate ceramic birdcage that belonged to his late mother, Jennifer. Bought in a Riyadh department store during the family's years in Saudi Arabia, it once filled their living room with light and warmth, but when Jennifer became ill, it was left shattered after an unfortunate accident, and an attempted repair has left it in pieces. Conservator Kirsten Ramsay takes on the formidable task of dismantling the failed glue joints, steam-cleaning every fragment, and reassembling hundreds of shards back into the delicate cage that Jennifer once knew and loved. 

Finally, Ross Malyon from the Isle of Bute arrives with a black leather jacket, hand painted in the 1980s by his late girlfriend Meriel, who transformed its back into a vivid Batman mural. The jacket accompanied Ross around the world during his years as a roadie to some of the UK's biggest bands, but decades living the rock'n'roll lifestyle have left the jacket faded and falling apart. Fixing it requires the joint efforts of shoemaker Dean Westmoreland, who tackles the worn leather, failing zip and torn lining, and paintings conservator Lucia Scalisi, who carefully revives the artwork's cracked colours.