down. Not many people were there. The concert finished and Frances got up to leave. While she had appreciated the music, she felt disappointed at the lack of any sense of welcome. There seemed such a contrast between the welcome of the building, into which she had been drawn a few months earlier, and the indifference of the few people there. As she walked back to the office she resolved not to go again.
A few months later, Frances was taking her lunchtime walk with a particular spring in her step on a bright, sunny day. The BBC staff were often offered complimentary tickets to sundry events, and Frances had just received tickets to Lords cricket ground. She found her mind taken back to her first schooldays, when she watched cricket with her father on the green in Bovey Tracey. As she walked through central London, she could hear church bells ringing from the tower of St Peter’s Church in Vere Street, a narrow street off Oxford Street, running along the side of Debenhams. St Peter’s was a sister church of All Souls, under the oversight of its young Rector. It was here that the Sunday services had been held after the damage was caused to All Souls by the wartime landmine, and here a weekly lunchtime service now took place.
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