‘They’re from the Book of Revelation. “Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth . . . And He hath on His vesture and on His thigh a name written, King of Kings, and Lord of Lords . . . And He shall reign for ever and ever . . .”’

‘Hallelujah!’ Boon said. He turned on the turntable, gently placed the needle on the LP and turned the volume up a little. As the violins came in and the chorus of ‘hallelujahs’ began, Margaret smiled, closed her eyes and started to move her hands as if she was conducting.

Jane whispered to Boon, ‘We haven’t got time to sit and listen to music with her.’

‘Be patient, sarge,’ he replied as Sister Margaret started to sing along softly to herself.

To Jane’s surprise Boon suddenly joined in:

‘King of Kings . . . forever and ever. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!’

Sister Margaret opened her eyes, then she joined in the chorus singing, ‘Forever and ever. Hallelujah! Hallelujah!’ in a cracked but still impressive voice.

Jane began to understand what Boon was trying to do. He turned the music down.

‘May I say, Sister Margaret, you have the most beautiful voice. It’s as if I were listening to an angel singing!’

Sister Margaret smiled. ‘And you are a very good baritone, Simon.’

‘I see you have other skills as well,’ Boon said, picking up a large hand-carved wooden ladle from the chest of drawers. ‘This is lovely. Did you make it?’

‘No. My friend made it. She gave it to me as a present.’

‘What was your friend’s name?’ he asked.

‘Mother Adele.’

‘Did she make all these lovely little animals, too?’ Boon asked, pointing to the miniature figures, amongst which were a mouse, a rabbit and an owl.

‘Yes. She’s very good at carving wood,’ Sister Margaret replied.

‘Could I borrow the little owl to show my friend the pieman?’ Boon asked.

‘As long as you bring him back,’ Sister Margaret replied, wagging her finger.

‘I will, and thank you.’ Boon slipped the owl into his pocket, then removed the calendar from the folder and handed it to her.

‘This is for you. There are some pretty flowers in it.’

Margaret looked at the cover picture, then the next. By the fifth one a tear was trickling from her eye. ‘These are the gardens where I used to live.’

‘Did you plant the flowers and look after them?’ he asked.

‘Yes. We all did.’

‘Mother Adele as well?’

‘Yes. She taught me a lot about plants and how to make tea and herbal remedies from them.’

Boon removed the copy of Dorton’s photograph. ‘Is your friend Mother Adele in this picture?’

Margaret scrutinised it, as if she’d never seen it before. ‘That’s her there, on the bench next to me.’ She pointed to Adele Delaney.

‘You never cease to amaze me, Boony,’ Jane said with a smile.