Elizabeth had been to the church a few times. It was just a simple building, rather like the ones around it, but the fact that it'd been designated church meant that it was something special. They had no priest, so there was no sacrament and no altar but, all the same, Elizabeth bowed eastward when she entered and settled in one of the chairs.

Someone else was there which, all told, wasn't that uncommon. She knew vaguely of the man who'd started the church and so far as she knew, he was Catholic, but God was God no matter which side of things she fell on at the moment. She might be the Supreme Head of the Church of England but here, in this place, she was a parishioner.

Without a prayer book, the order of the service was a little harder to recall but Elizabeth tried to keep to it as she could and she recited the only psalm she knew by heart - the 23rd.

"The Lord is my Shepherd and I shall not want. Lord God, if you're tired of this one, you ought to help me remember another one."