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Chapters (77)
  1. Landing Page
  2. A TERRIBLE KINDNESS
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. ABERFAN
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. CAMBRIDGE CHOIR
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. FAMILY BUSINESS
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. MIDNIGHT CHOIR
  58. 50
  59. 51
  60. 52
  61. 53
  62. 54
  63. 55
  64. 56
  65. 57
  66. 58
  67. ABERFAN
  68. 59
  69. 60
  70. 61
  71. 62
  72. 63
  73. 64
  74. 65
  75. Acknowledgements
  76. About the Author
  77. Copyright

Colin stands up, lurches to one side and then falls back onto the seat. ‘It’s today, isn’t it? The “Miserere”. Come with me.’

‘No, thanks.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Colin starts to walk in the wrong direction, dropping the photo. ‘Thanks for the food.’

‘You’ve dropped your picture.’

‘I know.’

‘Don’t you want it?’

He shakes his head. William watches from the bench as twice, Colin stumbles, but when he actually falls and knocks his shoulder on a gravestone, William bends down to pick up the photo, runs over to him, lifts his arm and puts it over his shoulder.

It takes them half an hour to get to the college. With his forehead dripping, his right arm stiff from supporting Colin, and his armpits sticky and damp, William breaks his promise to himself, and for the first time in thirteen years, walks through the college gates towards the chapel.

55

The doors are as high as he remembers. Their scale is grand whether you’re four foot or six foot. Still majestic and lofty, yet still (and this surprises him), still it feels as if he’s being welcomed. Trusting Colin to support himself now, William enters the narthex and a waft of ancient air leaves a grainy taste on his throat.

‘Come on, William, you’re in for a treat,’ says Colin as they cross the threshold.

And here it all is; the rich ceiling, the glint of gold on the floor, and the deep colours, as window after window fills the chapel with refracted light.

Colin spots the others and sets off in a stumbling half-trot. The men shuffle up to make room on the pew. Jenny is here, excited and alert, pointing out something in the order of service to one of the men, a scarlet scarf over her jacket. William sits on the end with Colin to his right, but from further down the row, Martin stands up and waves his hands for everyone to move along so he can sit next to William at the end of the pew.

‘You’ve come.’ Martin pats him briefly on the leg.

‘By accident,’ he mutters.

He picks up the order of service: Rachmaninoff, Purcell, Weelkes. Old friends.

The pews are filling; raincoats, tweed jackets and anoraks like in his day, but now, bright wool scarves trail the floor, an afghan coat, a rainbow cardigan with toggles. There’s a flash of purple and white to his left, and here they come. He feels a surge of adrenaline, as if it’s him about to sing. Tiny and slight, tall and rangy, plump and spotty, in cassocks too long and too short, the boys process past, their light surplices billowing and white.