Every trip I make to the altar seems destined to be fraught with difficulty. One Sunday the Princess did the second reading and the psalm without a hitch. She, Daniel and Michael sailed through the prayers of the faithful. Why oh why did my two lines at the start go wrong? I despair. I started. The priest looked at me making frantic eyebrow gestures, I turned on the mic and started again. His eyebrows became even more contorted. The verger came and switched on the mic. It had been on originally. I understand that the third time is a charm. I am not cut out for this.
