Page 15 of Too Busy for Love

‘That piece they sang in the middle was so atmospheric. It sounds silly, but I actually felt quite emotional. What was it?’

He looks at the service sheet. ‘“Miserere” by Gregorio Allegri.’

‘Are you two all right?’ We look up to see one of the attendants gazing at us curiously. I’m sure there’s a special name for whatever he is, but I have no idea what it is.

‘Sorry, do we need to go?’

‘We’ll be locking up soon, but if you need some time for private prayer, I can come and get you in a few minutes.’

‘No, it’s fine, thank you. We were just saying how incredible the piece the choir sang in the middle of the service was.’

‘The anthem? Yes, it’s one of my favourites. It reminds us not only of our inherent sinfulness and wickedness, but more importantly of God’s great mercy. There’s a bit of a story attached to it, actually.’

‘Go on,’ I encourage him as we follow him towards the entrance.

‘According to legend, it was only allowed to be performed in the Sistine Chapel and nobody outside the Vatican was permitted to see the sheet music. However, it escaped because Mozart heard it, memorised it and wrote it all down, which is why we’re able to perform it today.’

‘Is that true?’

‘I doubt it, but it makes a good tale, doesn’t it? You do need a capable choir to perform it though, because the soloist has to hit a top C, and there aren’t that many people who can do it reliably.’

‘I did notice the boy who did it getting looks from his colleagues.’

‘Yes, I expect he’ll be dining out on that for a while. Do you live locally?’

‘It depends what you mean by local. We’re in London, yes.’

‘Well, do feel free to come anytime. We have Evensong every day. The times vary, but they’re all published on our website.’

‘Thank you, we might just do that.’

‘I can’t believe you got me to go to church and I enjoyed it,’ I say to Jock as we make our way towards the bus stop.

‘I did too. Although I don’t think I’d want to do it every day, would you?’

‘No. It would be like eating in a Michelin-starred restaurant every night; the magic would wear off pretty quickly. It needsto be a special occasion thing. Do you think God likes it? Or is he sitting up there on his cloud angrily shouting, “Change the tune!”’

‘Maybe churches are like radio stations. He just tunes in to whichever one he’s in the mood for.’

I smile. ‘I like that idea.’

The bus is just leaving as we get to the stop and the board tells us there will be a fifteen-minute wait for the next one. Although it’s still light, the heat has gone out of the day and I shiver in the cold breeze.

‘Are you OK?’ Jock asks. ‘We could take the Tube if you’d rather. At least it will be warm.’

‘No. I want to be outdoors. It sounds stupid, but I don’t want to waste a moment of this week, and being underground feels wasteful.’

‘Fair enough. I’d offer you my coat, but I don’t have one. We could do the penguin thing, I guess.’

‘What penguin thing?’

‘I was reading about it while we were at the zoo. When male Emperor penguins are looking after the eggs, they all huddle together in a circle. The problem is, while that’s lovely for the penguins in the middle, who are kept warm, it’s not so much fun for the ones on the outside.’

‘I can see that.’

‘So they shuffle constantly in a kind of spiral, which means that everyone takes a turn on the outside but gets more time in the middle.’

‘How does that apply to us?’

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