Why I used to hate Good Friday

If you’re of a certain age and you were brought up Catholic, you’ll remember ‘Good Friday’ as the most awful misnomer. It was the most miserable day in the Catholic calendar – the day we commemorated the death of Our Saviour.

Any display of happiness or cheer was strictly forbidden on Good Friday. A dark pall of gloom would descend every year and engulf Irish Catholic strongholds like Kilburn, Cricklewood, Wealdstone and Wembley. These normally convivial communities that had coalesced around Irish pubs, dancehalls and the Catholic Church were suddenly subject to a blanket ban on all forms of pleasure. Watching TV, playing records in the house or football in the park were all stringently prohibited because Good Friday was a day devoted to solemnity.

Or should I say mock-solemnity.

Even as a child, I could see that it was all a bit of a charade. It was like an old Hollywood movie that we’d all seen before.