I’m not sure he bought my explanation. And I had to admit, when Guiseppe launched into the Italian version of “White Christmas,” in a passable imitation of Bing Crosby’s mellow baritone, even I found it a little strange.

But listening to Guiseppe was a good appetizer for the New Life choir’s second concert, which was just as splendid as the Saturday night version had been, even though we did get stuck sitting in the front row again. Josh insisted on singing with the choir, which would have passed unnoticed if, at the end of “Angels We Have Heard on High” he hadn’t gotten carried away and added a few more “Glo-o-o-o-o-rias!” to the song, to the great amusement of both choir and audience. Jamie spent most of the concert craning his neck to look up at the overhead decorations, trying to spot a snake, but at least it kept him occupied.

Even Barliman Vess seemed in a good mood, although I doubted he was enjoying the music. More likely he was comforted by the thought that every verse brought us closer to the moment when Lightfoot and the choir would be leaving Trinity. By the end of the concert he was actually smiling.

As Michael, Rob, and I were filing out with the boys we ran into Robyn. When she spotted us, she looked relieved.

“Is there any chance one of you could do a quick check around the church before you leave?” she asked. “Make sure everything’s locked up with no stragglers? I could do it of course, but for now, I have to stay here to make sure everyone really leaves—we think the pranksters got into New Life by staying after the choir rehearsal. And that’s going to take a while, and—”

“And if someone checks all the doors and windows and closets while you’re guarding the exit, you’ll get home all the sooner.” I turned to Michael. “I need to drive my car home anyway. Why don’t you take the boys home and start the bedtime process? I should be there before you get them tucked in.”

“Can do,” Michael said. He and Rob exited.