though she'd started singing a drunken ditty.
Chung seized the moment to detach herself from the sacred and profane pair and head back to the bar, onto which willing hands hoisted her when she requested quite unnecessary assistance.
She didn't need to call for quiet. Her seventy-five inches of perfectly proportioned beauty would have stopped people looking at the Boy David.
'No long speech,’ she said. 'I've got myself a team of doers, not debaters, and because of your efforts, every obstacle has been overcome, and now it's all systems go and I can promise you that in just over three months' time, this city is going to see the greatest dramatic event mounted here for nigh on four centuries!'
Everyone applauded enthusiastically. Pascoe guessed that a large majority of those present had done even less than himself to further the project. But Chung had the power to make everyone feel good.
'The main casting is practically complete,' she went on. 'But I'm not going to publish this just yet. These aren't professional actors but private people with their own lives to pursue. I want to work with them individually for a while before introducing them to the media. As well as their lines, perhaps I can teach them a few survival techniques!
'One thing that has changed is the performance site. The Council generously offered us Charter Park for the duration, but I didn't feel good about taking over the city's largest and most popular green space, particularly during a holiday week. Then I got an offer I couldn't refuse because it was a suggestion of sheer genius. The man who made it won't thank me for revealing his name. In his line of work, doing good by stealth is considered the virtue, but I'm afraid he's going to find, now he's got mixed up with show business folk, that it's hiding your light that's considered the sin. So put your hands together for the man who not only spotted that the best site for our performances dramatically, historically, and atmospherically, was the ruins of St Bega's Abbey in the lee of our great cathedral, but also got us permission to use it. Canon Eustace Horncastle!'
The Canon looked genuinely distressed as his fellow guests began to applaud. Pascoe noticed his wife did not join in but her defection seemed more than compensated for by a sudden swell of noise from the entrance to the bar. It took a second or two to register that this after all was not a spontaneous overflow of applause. A man and two women had entered the bar. One of the women was hidden behind a placard on which was printed THOU SHALT NOT TAKE THE NAME OF THE LORD THY GOD IN VAIN. The other two intruders were chanting, 'Anti- Christ! Sabbath-breakers!' more or less in unison, with a curious mixture of religious fervour and English embarrassment at creating a scene.
Slowly the clapping faded away till only the chanting remained. The woman, middle-aged with an anxious, washed-out face, soon gave up under the puzzled scrutiny of the assembled guests but the man kept the burden going with harsh insistence. Dark-suited, white-shirted, black-tied, he looked familiar. Then it came to Pascoe - this was Arnie Stringer, Swain's building partner, hitherto only seen in a cloth cap and overalls.
'Shouldn't you intervene?' wondered Mrs Horncastle.
'Senior officer on the scene makes the decisions,' said Pascoe smugly.
And sure enough, there was Dalziel, glass in hand, beginning to move from the bar. Whether his purpose was honeyed diplomacy or cracking of heads was not to be revealed, for Chung leaned forward, rested her hand on his shoulder and jumped lightly to the ground.
She walked forward to the intruders and stood smiling at them till even Stringer's voice faded.
'Hello,' she said. 'I'm Eileen Chung. This is my party. You're very welcome.'
For a second they looked nonplussed, then the woman said with nervous force, 'Remember the sabbath day and keep it holy!
'I hope there's nothing unholy going on here,' said Chung. 'And wasn't the sabbath made for man, not man for the sabbath,
The woman looked ready to collapse under this unexpected counterblow, but suddenly Arnie Stringer intervened.
'It's not what's going off here that's the trouble,' he said. 'It's these plays.'
'You don't like the plays?' said Chung.
'I'll not object to a good play in its rightful place but that's here, in a theatre, not out in the street and on consecrated ground,' he said. 'Especially not when there's going to be papish processions and men pretending to be God and Jesus. I find that offensive, missus. And there's a lot more like me.'
'We tried to consult every aspect of local opinion,' said Chung.
'Oh aye? You consulted him -' a finger stabbed at the Canon - 'whose bosses want to sell out to Rome. And him -' the President of the Chamber of Commerce - 'who'd sell his own grannie if he could get a good price. And him -' the Head of the Community Project Group - 'who reckons charity begins in the Indian Ocean and equality's about being black. And him -' the local NUM boss - 'who's spent so long acting as a worker, no wonder he feels at home in a place like this. And him -' Dalziel - 'who sups so much of that stuff, he probably thinks he's still in the Middle Ages anyway. Oh aye, you asked all them, missus, knowing the answer you'd get. But you didn't ask me what I thought. Nor a lot like me either.'
It was a statement not without force and dignity, and Pascoe could see Chung was professionally impressed. Poor sod, he thought. He'll end up as St Peter if he's not careful!
'I'm sorry,' said Chung. 'Let's remedy that. Not now though, as I've my guests to look after. Why not stay and join us in some refreshment. Plenty of soft drinks going, I prefer them myself. No? OK, some other time. Hey, I love the banner. Who did the lettering?'
The banner-bearer lowered it and to Pascoe's surprise revealed herself as Shirley Appleyard. She hadn't struck him as being much in tune with her father's religious beliefs.
'I did,' she said.
The two women examined each other with undisguised curiosity.
'It's really very striking,' said Chung. 'Such strength, such directness.'
'She were always good at art,' declared the older woman with a pride that could only derive from parenthood.
