I had an odd driving lesson on Friday. I'm becoming a bit more confident, executing perfect 3-point turns in no less than 5 or 6 manoeuvres, changing gears effortlessly (if you ignore my nervous glances down at the gearstick and abysmal clutch control) and I even had a jocular exchange or two with my driving instructor. Perhaps she sensed my increasing confidence and felt the need to bring me back under her command, but she chose the halfway point in the lesson to break some news to me.

My driving instructor and I have a mutual acquaintance – well, a friend of mine and an ex-pupil of hers. This friend has been extremely unwell recently, and she has been in and out of hospital a great deal. As I was approaching some traffic lights, the instructor asked if I'd spoken to the girl's husband recently. “Er, yes,” I said, ” A couple of days ago in fact, why?” “Hm. Well, I'm afraid that I heard yesterday that she has passed away.”

No. I started sweating (more than I usually do when negotiating my way around the streets of South London) and asked if I could pull over. Fortunately there were no double yellows or zig zags, and we sat there for a few seconds, while I exhaled heavily and apologised for being upset. “No, it's fine,” she re-assured me, and after a minute or so I pulled out into the traffic and carried on the lesson while pondering mortality, wishing I could get out of the car and go for a long walk, and not deal with bus lane etiquette or width restrictions. My instructor interrupted my train of thought. “Don't worry, Rhodri, because it's good for her. She's with Jesus now.” Mm. “Er, yes,” I replied. “Yes, she'll be in heaven,” she continued. “And you know what, I'd be happy to go today, to join Jesus.” Conversely, I was keen not to join Jesus just yet, and kept my eyes on the road.

As soon as the lesson finished I got out of the car and phoned a friend, to ask after the girl's health and to check that this wasn't just a rumour. “Oh, I saw her yesterday, she was making a dress, she's fine,” he replied. I passed the good news onto the instructor. “Oh, that's good,” she said, filling in my progress report card. Confronted with life, or death, she seemed equally unperturbed. What an extraordinary and slightly creepy thing faith can be.