It was late June when I was told I would be working in London for a couple of days. I was booked in to “The Charnel House”, in the Clapham area, a pub that had a few rooms to let above. After a two hour drive I rolled up at the front of the pub which was on the corner of Downs View Road and a cul-de-sac called Church Way because directly opposite stood the parish church of St. John the Baptist. A quite imposing building. It had a large black, wooden gate and a gravel path led up to the church door. Although the graveyard looked unkempt and unattended there was a board with a list of services so it was still a functioning church. I noticed there was a young black guy looking intently through the gate towards the church porch.

I went up to my room, dropped my case and went out to work. I noticed the guy still standing in the same position as before. He had a large parka draped over his arm on a warm, sunny morning. He looked about fourteen or fifteen, not moving, just standing, staring intently up the path.

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