Someone had made a list of the most popular hymns of all time- and one of them was being sung. Ailz's mother and father came down the sloping lawn dressed as if for a wedding, with Eric in his grey topper looking like Stanley Holloway as Alfred Doolittle in My Fair Lady. "Do you know these hymns?" they asked and I said, "No. We didn't sing them where I was, but we did use the same hymn book."
I gathered they owned the park where we were meeting- and that Ailz and I stood to inherit it. "It would be a shame to sell any of it off." I said. They had plans to put up a retirement cottage on their land- or rather add an annexe to the building we were stood beside- a lodge with porticoes and big plate glass windows, part neoclassical, part modernist, comprising one large, unfurnished room with a big round thing- an altar or an old fashioned stove- in the middle of the floor. Those parts of it which weren't steel and glass were brick- a very unusual brick- milky white but shot through with rainbow colours. "Why would you use that instead of ordinary pink brick?" asked Eric and I said, "Why not? It's beautiful..."