I was on my way to morning assembly when my friend Smith called out: “Oy, Thompson, did you hear that the Pope’s dead?” I knew most boys couldn’t care less about the Catholic Church – but the Pope had died weeks ago and we already had another one. So I rolled my eyes and suggested that he really ought to keep up with the news. “No, the new Pope’s dead!” said Smith triumphantly. He’d heard it on the radio. I still wasn’t convinced, but a shocked Brother Simon confirmed the news in assembly. Thirty-three days. Incredible.