There was some row at home about nothing and I went for a walk to the cathedral and the liturgy was over and only the evensong Rosary group was left.

The Rosary at first sight seems either pointless or a mere mantra, but the repetition is deeply soothing precisely for that reason. It was coming to the end of a sorrowful mysteries. They rolled by – the compelling and violent story: The agony in the garden, the Trial, the flogging, the crowning with thorns, the carrying of the cross and the crucifixion. Each reached its inevitable conclusion, interspersed with the quiet decade of five Hail Marys – a gentle counterpoint to the struggle of defeat and of life.