When his turn with the chalice came Detective-Sergeant Sparrow took a very long swig, and I noticed afterwards that more wine had to be fetched before the Communion was finished. When I returned to my seat, the detective-sergeant trod on my heels, and in the pew behind me the whispers broke out again. ‘My throat’s like a grater,’ I heard the sergeant say. I suppose he was apologizing for his performance with the chalice.
