Fact is, his first marriage only happened because of a deluge. He was in Wells to give a presentation, pitching for new clients for his agency, but it was all cancelled at the last minute because the rain was so severe it caused a landslip and disrupted all the trains. And the only reason he went into the coffee shop was to shelter from the relentless downpour. And if he hadn’t gone to the coffee shop, he would never have gone to the cathedral.
He was twenty-five – just a few years out of uni. He’d been in a marketing job for a mid-size agency for just eighteen months and was still enjoying the novelty of travelling for pitches and meetings. A hotel on expenses. But with his presentation suddenly cancelled, he was at a loose end. He was bored with his hotel which had over-enthusiastic air conditioning so he’d wandered into town, optimistically hoping the rain would ease. It didn’t. And so, on his second cup of coffee, he found himself tuning into the conversation of two women at the adjoining table. They were hurrying their drinks and checking their watches, apparently anxious to make it to the cathedral ‘in time for the clock thingy.’
What clock thingy?
Ed couldn’t help himself. He turned to stare at the women as they gathered up their things and for a beat considered asking out loud. But that would mean owning up to earwigging so he turned back to his coffee instead, pretending to consider adding a sachet of sugar.
One of the women was now telling the other to hurry. Come on. Noon is the best time for the clock. We need to get a shift on.
That decided it. Ed liked clocks, especially unusual ones. But what could be so special about a clock in a cathedral?
He reached into his jacket pocket for the tourist pamphlet, picked up from hotel reception, just as his two neighbours made for the door.
Wells Cathedral had half a page – and yes; the clock had a special mention. It dated back to around 1390. Right. Decided. He stood, slurped the last of his coffee and headed for the door himself.
It was too windy for his umbrella so by the time he reached the cathedral, he was pretty much wet through. It was not the largest of cathedrals, but he loved the mellow colour of the stone. The arches. At the information desk, he was told there were no official tickets that day. A woman in a bright pink blouse signalled the voluntary-contribution box. He dropped in some pound coins, asked about the clock and was told to hurry. There’s a guide at midday to explain it all.
It was easy to see where to head. A small group of visitors were craning their necks to view something high up. A guide had a small torch that he was shining up on to the wall, sweeping his other arm as he continued his spiel.
Ed moved forward to perch on a little stone shelf that others were also using as a seat. Somehow, he lost his grip on his redundant umbrella and it slid with a clatter to the floor. All eyes turned. A woman with long strawberry-blonde hair smiled at him as the guide paused to check on the noise before moving the torch back to the clock high up in front of them.
The story was impressive. The oldest clock face in the world, apparently.
‘But what you will enjoy, ladies and gentlemen, is the unusual action with the chime.’ The guide checked his watch. ‘Just a few more seconds and you’ll see what I mean.’
Ed stared up at the clock and wondered what to expect. Some kind of unusual bell? Music? He was surprised to find the anticipation so enjoyable. An unexpected boost to this dismal, wet day.
At last the chimes began and little doors at the top of the clock opened to reveal the twist. Not cuckoos, not birds of any kind but knights on horseback . . . jousting.
He smiled and turned to see everyone in the little crowd smiling with him. Two sets of knights were on some kind of circuit travelling in opposite directions, so it really did look like a mini joust. Very clever.
Given the time, the display lasted through the whole twelve chimes and Ed at last understood the noon recommendation. When the chimes finished, everyone clapped. The tour guide then turned off his torch and, to Ed’s slight embarrassment, encouraged them all to join in a little prayer together.
It was not that Ed was an atheist, more that he was entirely indifferent about religion. But he paused politely as a short prayer and blessing was announced. And it was during this little ‘moment’ that the woman with the strawberry-blonde hair caught his eye again, apparently stifling a laugh.
As everyone then slowly dispersed, Ed was surprised to see the woman move towards him.
‘I’m so sorry. That was very rude of me. Disrespectful. I didn’t mean to cause offence. Are you religious? Please forgive me if you’re religious. I can’t help it when I get nervous; I really didn’t mean to—’