A bacon sandwich and a flat white from Greggs is £3.55. Early Easter Sunday morning, at 8.10am, in I wandered – and ordered.
Behind the counter, I was surprised to see Bishop Myriel smiling and serving. I smiled back as I scanned my phone to pay. It was declined. So I plucked a card from my purse only to see that declined too. The still smiling Bishop watched silently as I apologised, retreated, and slunk into a nearby seat to text-seek a bank transfer from Lisa.
Another Greggs worker, Javert (badge check), scowled. After just a few seconds, Javert’s gaze was blocked by Bishop Myriel crossing the small Greggs concession, to where I sat. The Bishop was carrying two things.
Candlesticks, I assumed.
But no. It was one flat white and one bacon sandwich. He smiled, muttered, ‘Jean. Don’t worry’, left them on my table, touched my hand, and walked back behind the counter.
I felt awkward and alone as I glared at my phone, waiting for rescue by text. I could have walked away. Bishop Myriel was not watching me. He was serving others. I thought about doing the wrong thing – or the right thing. One would make me a worse man. The other, a better one.
I stayed. And after a few more minutes, money appeared – and I paid my dues.
This entire episode lasted ten minutes, one Sunday morning in 2025. Les Misérables spanned 17 years, from 1815 to 1832. But, I think, both stories would be just as important as a film, film musical, or record breaking musical theatre.
I’ll see if Hugh Jackman is free to play me.