I went to the city today. I went into London. Our security alert is critical following the slaughter of innocents in Manchester on Monday night. Murdered by a possessed young man who dreamt of something I can never fathom, and my grief for the parents, friends and colleagues of those killed and wounded will stay with me.
My children had to go to work. Many thousands did the same and life does not stop, regardless. Evil is never far, and I did hesitate, as I did times before, and then with the weather as beautiful as this, I went into the city. The presence of our British police was everywhere and I, rather than fear, am comforted by it. They work tirelessly to protect us, and God knows how many attempts have been thwarted of which we do not know. Friendly, all. Helpful, always. The enemy now do not announce the battle, but steal their way into happiness to kill.
There was nothing noble in my gesture to go into the city. It is my home and I had errands to run. Believe me, as one who has lost two family members to murder, I am not naive. What I do know is that when it happened, I wanted more than anything for normality, never the same person, but a sense of normality. So I went to the city, the first real day of summer, to find the worshippers of rays littered across the parks. London is strong and a lovely place to be.
Of course I am vigilant. My children have learnt how to travel on the public system and be alert. But we cannot deny our children the opportunity to live, to go to concerts and meet friends. Go shopping, to school or the playground. So you fanatical, unfaithful madmen, I cannot see you, will not hide from you but carry on for those you stopped.
Now if Trump came to London, I might stay home.