I saw you walking around the cathedral in Antwerp with a baby and I wanted to say something but thought I might be intruding on your space. The show at Sportpaleis was massive. I can’t stop thinking about it. I had so many feelings. How was your time in our lovely city? Should I have said hello?

Dear Bernadette,

The three days I spent in Antwerp were very special. It is a city I have grown to love very much. The Bad Seeds performed two concerts, perhaps the best we’ve done. On a personal and utterly delightful note, my son Luke and his wife, Sasha, joined the tour with their little boy, Roman, my grandson.

On the first day, we walked through the Grote Markt and visited the Cathedral of Our Lady, where you saw me with Roman. I appreciate that you allowed me this undisturbed moment with my grandson.

I was excited to show little Roman The Descent from the Cross, one of the two masterful altarpieces by Peter Paul Rubens. This Mannerist triptych depicts the dramatic deposition of Jesus from the cross. The characters in the painting support the pale and lifeless body of Christ with extraordinary tenderness, each carrying Him down from the cross and bearing Him. On the panel, to the left, is a pregnant Mary and her cousin, Elizabeth, who is also pregnant. Elizabeth points to Mary’s belly, where the unborn baby “leaped for joy”, as told in Luke. This is an indication that Mary carries or bears Christ. On the opposing panel, Simeon, a “just and devout man,” presents the Christ child in the temple as a revelation, holding the child aloft. On the back of the left panel, Saint Christopher, the patron saint of the guild that commissioned the painting, carries the infant Jesus across the river on his shoulders.

In each section of the triptych, the characters depicted bear the burden of Christ, literally carrying Him. I explained all this to Roman about the bearing and carrying in great detail, and he gurgled and gooed – he’s six months old – then fell asleep. Babies are sleepy and become heavy. Finally, at a small altar to the side, I lit a candle for those no longer with us, and then we all made our way back to the hotel.

Luke and Sasha took Roman to their room across the hall. I stood in my room, my arms tired from the little boy’s weight, still feeling him there as a consolation. There was a cold, familiar shifting of air in the room. I realised at that moment that joy, a state of being we talk so much about in the Files, is often experienced retroactively, as a carried memory or as a sudden, overwhelming recollection, and that this joy is frequently expressed, not just in a bearing up of the smiling heart – but in tears, as well.

Thank you, Bernadette, for your kind consideration. I’m pleased you enjoyed the concert.

Love, Nick