It must have been shortly after 10am when the phone rang... I was in bed asleep, taking a day off sick with, unbelievably, my third bout of ‘flu since I arrived over here. In a groggy stupor and somewhat irritated at having been disturbed I fumbled between my mobile and landline finally answering with a curt ‘hello!’. It was my mother... what on earth did she want? Something must have happened at home in Australia... She asked if I was all right. Of course, why wouldn’t I be? I was now awake and alert. She told me of the bomb blasts in London that were being reported back home in Melbourne. I took this in completely stunned. Fine, I’ll keep in touch. Thanks for calling and letting me know.....
...With dread I went to turn on the tv. At least four bomb blasts. Tube Stations: Edgeware Road, Aldgate East, Kings Cross and on the number 30 bus from Hackney to Marble Arch at Woburn Place (Tavistock Square). Images of the double decker bus broadcast across the tv. Ripped apart and reports of some of the victims having been decapitated. Some have lost limbs, burns to their bodies, head injuries, fractures from being thrown by the blast, fragments from glass and masonry lodged in them....
Tavistock Square is such a lovely part of London. On a sunny day my boyfriend and I meet up and have lunch there in the gardens, sitting on the grass and enjoying the surrounds. Situated between Russell Square and the University of London (Bloomsbury), it is a precinct often full of commuters, tourists, travellers and uni students.
My boyfriend and I both work at Euston. We travel to work on one of the lines that passes through Aldgate East and ofcourse, King’s Cross is only just a short walk up Euston Road.... Logically I knew and reasoned with myself that he should be ok. However, fear was niggling at me. He’d left for work somewhat late this morning given that I was taken ill. I’d tried to call him on themobile. Message bank. ...try again... blank.... try again... a fax machine.... try again.... dead air....panic starting to creep up within me. Telling myself that it’s ok. All lines are down. The Emergency Services must be overriding the communications systems. What was his work number? Silly, I’m usually so organised with that sort of thing... keeping contact numbers for emergencies etc.... We don’t even have a phone book here at home... I tried to get on the net to look up the Yellow Pages.... useless.... no phone communications whatsoever.... rummage through some personal papers.... finally find an official letter from his workplace.....
ring the head office number.... what department does
he work for?.... umm.... glancing frantically at the letter.... that’s it....
they put me through..... oh yes, they know him... no he’s not
there....what!!!!!..... they’ll just check.....oh, sorry for the confusion, he
is actually at head office for a work induction today....I can ring head office
again and ask to speak to Human Resources to check that he made it in.... the
phone calls start again... more lines jammed.... fear in my throat... gulping...
back to Head Office.... I’m calling on behalf of my boyfriend.... just want to
speak to someone in HR and make sure he is ok...we’ll put you through...
hello?... yes, errr no, sorry he is not on our list. How do you spell his name
again?... ok, yes we have him listed here. yes, he’s here....
It was only last week my building had been evacuated in a fire/bomb drill. Casually making our way down stairs, glad to have ½ hour or so to get away from the desk. Chatting to my colleagues on the lawn. A bit of a nervous giggle and a quiet speculation about what it would be like if it was the real thing....
Weeks earlier I had been having lunch with my colleagues in the square outside Euston Station. I realised I had nowhere to put my rubbish and that cleaners were employed to walk around and pick up the litter left behind.... bizarre... I queried this practise. My colleagues informed me that it was a security measure. Terrorists could place a bomb in a bin. And indeed, this was a popular method used in previous years by the IRA. I swept my hand behind me, gesturing towards the station. Yes, but what is stopping someone from planting a bomb on the station or on one of the trains? What is stopping suicide bombers from getting on a packed tube train in peak hour? Despite all the warnings, no one could seriously notice. It would be far too easy. Everyone is squashed into those trains like sardines.... how easy would it be.... and stuck down all the way down there in the underground.... what kind of emergency evacuation plans do they have for a terror threat? And what if London gets the Olympics? How will the transport system cope then? What kind of security measures could they seriously put into place with the extra loads of travellers coming to the city? We’re all sitting ducks down there. We all know what happens when there is a signal failure or a train breakdown on the Underground. Everything grinds to a halt. With no ventilation the air becomes stifling. Not knowing exactly what is going on or how long we are going to be stuck down there. Suppressing the fear that begins to arise in the back of our minds. Imagine the carnage that someone could cause... if they wanted to...???
8.50am, Thursday 7th July, the first bomb blast occurs on an underground train between Liverpool St and Aldgate East Stations.
Yes, no doubt this abomination was designed to coincide with the G8 Summit held in Scotland, Gleneagle this week. For sure, I’d watched with interest from my floor at work the crowds gathering last week at Euston, ready to travel up to Scotland to protest against G8. The usual suspects. Dreadlocks, anti-war t-shirts etc. With amusement and raised eyebrows, we gazed over the crowd as a couple of these so-called anti-globalist activists lined up to buy their Starbucks coffee?? At the same time, feeling half guilty myself for wearing my pin-striped suit and half wishing I was down there with them. Supporting fundamentally what they were standing for. Fair Trade, Not Free Trade. End the War in Iraq.
Bob Geldof’s Live 8 concert was held on Saturday in Hyde Park. A stellar line-up of ‘global’ rock-stars. Some even who performed at the original Band Aid. Well, after watching the Nat West one-day cricket final (which, quite frankly, I was far more interested in... and sad to say drawing with England on the final ball... poor Glen McGragh) whilst working out on the treadmill at the gym I switched over to Madonna planting a big sloppy kiss on some poor bewildered African girl, apparently in the name of Making Poverty History.. However, made for a nice beat to complete my workout to.
A Saturday night at home on the couch in front of the teeves... feeling rather povo... don’t get paid for another couple of weeks. Happy to veg after almost two hours at the gym plus the walk home! Phew! I’m going to end up looking like Madonna myself at this rate. My cynical mind kicking into action as we watched Live 8 (the great masturbate...). Yeah, like what the f*%k do any of these rock-stars care about world poverty? All they are concerned with is putting on a good show, which they don’t have to pay for, and watching there record sales sky-rocket the following week. Especially the old rockers such as The Who and those whose careers seem to be ailing somewhat. ... I guess, to their credit, Pink Floyd has declared that any extra royalties received as a result of Live 8 will be donated to charity. As for Bono of U2.... disgraceful... suing for the Stetson hat he gave away backstage after the final Joshua Tree tour in 1987...What’s his problem? Ego, apparently, is still not a dirty word.
"Violence and arrests as G8 Protestors clash with Police in Scotland" – Tuesday 5th July.
A loud applause and a genuine feeling of euphoria as the London lunchtime crowd hears the news that they have won the bid to host the Olympics in 2012. Everyone is abuzz with excitement in the canteen at work. A definite jovial spirit is afoot. And I warn them that the Aussies are coming... Oi Oi Oi! ... Wednesday 6th July.
....Now I sit here feeling so desperately sad and desperately hope that this will not incite hate crimes against the Muslim community as retaliation for what has occurred today.
I checked in with work earlier. It will be business as usual tomorrow at Network Rail. At least in the Finance Department. But I sit amongst the Safety & Compliance Division. I can only imagine the immensity of the task they have ahead of them to work with other rail operators to get the trains up and running tomorrow.
I will wake up earlier than my normal time and walk to Queen’s Park (past the Islamic School, the Synagogue and Multi-Faith Centre) ... and, with trepidation, catch the Silverlink overland train into Euston...
The horror.... the horror....
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