How dreadful was last week? Thursday morning was a bit chilly, a bit cold, a good excuse to wear a jacket in which to hide a bomb. I was standing in our printroom chatting to our post-chappie when the first newsbulletin hit about the "explosion" on the Underground. I immediately ran through to where my team sits and told them. Accessing the net I found Sky News already carrying a brief story - they said that the explosion heard was two trains colliding and that there had been a powercut.
As the morning unfolded and I kept refreshing the website the horror of it all unfolded. No one worked that day. We didn't have a tv in the office so all the news we got was over a very slow internet. People were wandering about talking to one another in hushed tones. By lunchtime we had seen that - now iconic picture - of the bus blown open at Russell Square. It was beyond comprehension. We were told that we could leave early that day - London had basically shut down. No underground trains were running, no busses were running within Zone 1, overland trains were running haphazzardly.
I left work at quarter past three and met up with the FG at Charing Cross Station. At least we were together. As I walked across Trafalgar Square and along Pall Mall I watched the people and saw the utterly stricken looks on their faces. People weren't talking, they were walking in small groups or on their own and just had their heads down to get to wherever it was that they were going. Charing Cross was busy but very quiet. A stack of cops no older than my three year old great-nephew stood around looking worried and nervous. Our train eventually arrived and we got home safely just after four. After changing into shorts and t-shirts (the weather had changed dramatically in the meantime) we sat down and turned on the telly flicking from one channel to the next watching it in retrospect, the interviews, the pictures. My family were so worried about all of this - I rang them and assured them that all of us are fine, friends and colleagues all, so they had nothing to worry about.
There was no doubt in my mind about going into work the next morning. The train was quite empty, with a few open seats, and people were talking in hushed tones, or not at all.
And it continues...as does life. I am thankful that no one Mark and I know have been caught up in the terror attacks. I am grateful to the emergency services for all that they had done and their fantastic work. My heart goes out to those families who have lost loved ones. I hope that the ones who perpetrated these attacks are caught and brought to justice and that they are sent to rot in a place that would make hell seem like a holiday in Ibiza.
Now we wait and see what happens.
