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Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. Praise
  3. About the Author
  4. Title Page
  5. Intoroduction
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EITHT
  14. NINE
  15. TEN
  16. ELEVEN
  17. TWELVE
  18. THIRTEEN
  19. FOURTEEN
  20. FIFTEEN
  21. SIXTEEN
  22. SEVENTEEN
  23. EIGHTEEN
  24. NINETEEN
  25. TWENTY
  26. TWENTY-ONE
  27. TWENTY-TWO
  28. TWENTY-THREE
  29. TWENTY-FOUR
  30. TWENTY-FIVE
  31. TWENTY-SIX
  32. TWENTY-SEVEN
  33. TWENTY-EIGHT
  34. TWENTY-NINE
  35. THIRTY
  36. THIRTY-ONE
  37. THIRTY-TWO
  38. THIRTY-THREE
  39. THIRTY-FOUR
  40. THIRTY-FIVE
  41. THIRTY-SIX
  42. THIRTY-SEVEN
  43. THIRTY-EIGHT
  44. THIRTY-NINE
  45. FORTY
  46. FORTY-ONE
  47. FORTY-TWO
  48. FORTY-THREE
  49. FORTY-FOUR
  50. FORTY-FIVE
  51. FORTY-SIX
  52. FORTY-SEVEN
  53. FORTY-EIGHT
  54. FORTY-NINE
  55. FIFTY
  56. FIFTY-ONE
  57. FIFTY-TWO
  58. FIFTY-THREE
  59. FIFTY-FOUR
  60. FIFTY-FIVE
  61. FIFTY-SIX
  62. FIFTY-SEVEN
  63. FIFTY-EIGHT
  64. FIFTY-NINE
  65. SIXTY
  66. SIXTY-ONE
  67. SIXTY-TWO
  68. SIXTY-THREE
  69. SIXTY-FOUR
  70. SIXTY-FIVE
  71. SIXTY-SIX
  72. SIXTY-SEVEN
  73. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
  74. CLIMATE EMERGENCY
  75. Copyright

Then he’d grabbed his panier bag, put his bike helmet on, and left.

Later that night, I’d received a picture message of his finger poised above a ‘book now’ button on his laptop screen – the website of a holiday company that I’d sent him the link to earlier.

I don’t know if he’d really booked that holiday or not. One of the things that got lost in the time afterwards. What I do know is, on that last Sunday evening, I’d gone to sleep in a state of happiness I didn’t realise I’d had.

Until afterwards. Until it was gone.

Dad had been on his way to that meeting when his train exploded.

Or rather, it had been exploded.

A young guy with a backpack had got on at Dad’s station, stood in the middle of the carriage, swaying with the other commuters for a few minutes. Then his backpack blew up.

They said that Dad was near the centre of the blast and would have been killed instantly.

We were supposed to see this as a kind of bonus, I think.

Some weren’t killed so instantly. One woman took a week to die.

THREE

THREE

There was a service at Westminster Abbey for all the victims’ families. Some important people talked about sacrifices and how they won’t be forgotten. We sat right at the front, just behind the important people who kept getting up to make speeches.

All the way through I couldn’t stop thinking about Greek theatre. Mrs Dinet, our drama teacher, had told us that if one of the characters in ancient Greek theatre died, they wouldn’t perform it on stage. The death would take place off stage and someone would describe it to the audience. Then, to prove that it was true, they’d part some curtains at the back of the stage, or bring in some kind of trolley on wheels, and reveal the body. Sometimes they’d use animal blood or intestines to make the death look realistic. Especially if it was a violent one.

All the way through that service I wondered whether they were going to open a curtain or roll out a trolley. I couldn’t decide whether I wanted them to or not.

How do you show someone who’s had a bomb rip through them?

The papers were all saying how it could have been worse. There was only one bomb, but they’d planned another one. The other bomber was left paralysed after his bomb didn’t go off properly and the detonation blast took a chunk out of his spine. His trial was very public. And quick. This was supposed to show our efficient justice system and our intolerance of acts of terror against our way of life.

A few weeks later, the train line re-opened. This was supposed to be an act of defiance against the people who killed my dad.