Miserere mei, Deus: secundum magnam misericordiam tuam.
Have mercy on me, O God: according to Your great kindness.
Et secundum multitudinem miserationum tuarum, dele iniquitatem meam.
According to the multitude of Your mercies, do away mine offences.
The door swings open to reveal a younger-looking, elegant Evelyn, in a fitted cream dress with an orange rose pinned to it. There’s a bottle of nail varnish in her hand and her mouth is open ready to say something, but when she hears the music she stops.
‘Sit down, Mum.’ William holds his hand out to her. She gives him the bottle of varnish. It tick-tick-ticks as he shakes it.
Amplius lava me ab iniquitate mea: et a peccato meo munda me.
Wash me thoroughly from my wickedness: and cleanse me from my sin.
Quoniam iniquitatem meam ego cognosco: et peccatum meum contra me est semper.
For I know my faults: and my sin is ever before me.
She sits next to him and their eyes meet briefly before he gently takes her left hand in his. Carefully, he draws the brush, plump and glistening with orange varnish, down the length of the nail. The sound is so good, the choristers may as well be in the room with them.
Tibi soli peccavi, et malum coram te feci: ut justificeris in sermonibus tuis, et vincas cum judicaris.
Against You only have I sinned, and done this evil in Your sight: that You might be justified in Your saying, and clear when You are judged.
He lays her hand down in her lap and she offers him the other. He feels the tremor in it, the warmth of the blood in her body.
Asperges me hyssopo, et mundabor: lavabis me, et super nivem dealbabor.
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.
Auditui meo dabis gaudium et laetitiam: et exsultabunt ossa humiliata.
Let me hear of joy and gladness: that the bones which You have broken may rejoice.
Averte faciem tuam a peccatis meis: et omnes i niquitates meas dele.
Turn Your face from my sins: and blot out all my misdeeds.
Second coat. He has so much he wants to say, but right now, her warm, soft hand is in his, and he is making her beautiful for her wedding and they are listening to Allegri’s ‘Miserere’。
Cor mundum crea in me, Deus: et spiritum rectum innova in visceribus meis.
Create a clean heart, O God: and renew a right spirit within me.
Ne proiicias me a facie tua: et spiritum sanctum tuum ne auferas a me.
Do not cast me away from Your presence: and do not take Your holy spirit from me.
Redde mihi laetitiam salutaris tui: et spiritu principali confirma me.
O give me the comfort of Your help again: and ’stablish me with Your free spirit.
Once it’s over, he looks up to meet her eyes, which are fixed on him.
‘I’m so sorry for how I treated you, Mum.’ He’s worried he might cry.
She smiles gently and puts her hand on his. ‘I tore you in two with the way I treated Robert and Howard.’ She withdraws her hand and sits back. ‘You know, there’s a madness that comes with grief. For a good few years after your father died, I had a layer of skin missing.’ She rubs a hand slowly the length of her arm. ‘I was raw. The sight of your uncle was like having salt rubbed onto that rawness.’ She scrunches her face. ‘I was so jealous they still had each other. I’ve apologised to them, but I’m glad I can apologise to you now. I hated how close you were to them, when really that was a wonderful thing.’
‘I’m glad you’re getting married. Dad would be too, I’m sure of it.’
‘Thank you, William. I’ll never forget him.’
‘I know.’ They sit in easy silence for a few moments. ‘I didn’t think you’d actually go to Swansea without me.’ He didn’t plan to say this, and worries he sounds churlish.
She nods. ‘I didn’t think you wouldn’t come! For the first six months I changed the bed in the spare room every week, so it would be fresh if you turned up.’ She shakes her head. ‘What a terrible mess we can make of our lives. There should be angel police to stop us at these dangerous moments, but there don’t seem to be. So all we’re left with, my precious son, is whether we can forgive, be forgiven, and keep trying our best.’
‘We’d best go for it then, hadn’t we?’
‘Let’s.’ Breathing in sharply, she splays her hands and surveys her nails, the exact colour of the rose pinned to her dress. ‘Nice job, William. Who’d have thought it?’ She lays them neatly on her lap. ‘You know, I only pretended to drop out of your life, I’ve kept a very close track on you. I know more than you think.’