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Catherine's day job is as Professor of US historyÌýat .Ìý She joins Sian and Richard to talk about her role as historical adviser on Stephen Speilberg’s film ‘Lincoln’.

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AdamÌýhears voicesÌýand joinsÌýSianÌýto talk about his condition.

Jeff chooses ‘If I loved you’ from Carousel by Rodgers and Hammerstein and ‘Only the Lonely’ by Roy Orbison.

Live poetry from Kate down the line from Yorkshire.

I’ve been in Coventry this week at a conference – how exciting my life must seem! – and have reacquainted myself with a city I used to know a bit, partly though living near it during the days of Ska, partly though playing in it through the days of the Communards, partly through its cathedral, a place with a history in the hard work of reconciliation. The cathedral is itself an effort of reconciliation, built out of the ruins left by the Luftwaffe’s redesign of the city centre during the Second World War, and is one of the great sights of Britain. Modernism working, with humanity at its centre, in beautiful materials that make you go ‘wow’, and with a delight and elegance that would make a curmudgeon skip down the aisle. It was the setting for a three day exploration of conflict and its repair, both of which churches are good at providing, and we heard from speakers who had been kept busy with such things around the world, in Northern Ireland, in the Sudan, in the Middle East and in the United States. In spite of our remarkable capacity for exciting disagreement and fomenting strife the churches also have a rich tradition of conflict resolution. I say ‘in spite’ it’s more a case of ‘because of’, for conflict is normal, not something we accidentally stumble into, like falling into a pond, but an inevitable consequence of being alive around others being alive. And even the most peaceable among us can lose it sometimes; I heard recently of a Quaker throwing a chair at another during a silent meeting. Sometimes words are not enough.

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Like most people attending conferences I bunked off once or twice, to have supper with someone I’ve made friends with on Twitter who lives nearby. He’s a twenty two year old art student called Charlie with more piercings than the Forth Rail Bridge and blue hair and he flung open a window on a world I know little about. Then I was minding my own business in a pizzeria when a lady came over and said hello. I thought, 'You're the Archdeacon of somewhere, but I can’t remember where’ and then she said her name – Alison Steadman – and I blushed because she’s not only one of my heroes but she’s also been a guest on Saturday Live. She gave me her surplus olives, thanks very much. Which was nice...

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I wonder if our guest this week, Judy Finnigan, will have thought to bring a snack? We had her other half on a while ago, Richard Madeley, and I'm sorry to say he didn't, mind you he’d been hanging out with squatters that week. Judy will be joined by a man who hears voices - auditory verbal hallucinations - and a historianÌý who advised StevenÌý Spielberg on how to get Lincoln's stovepipe hat right.

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All these and more on Saturday Live