I’m sorry, but I can’t work up the enthusiasm for this task.
The Husband and I both had meetings in London today and planned to meet up for a romantic dinner before heading home. He went on the 6.30am and I went on the 8.30. He got to Kings Cross at around 8.40. I was already on the train and, effectively, incommunicado. The office rang me and told me what was going on and what was expected – one of the pros and cons of working for the Government. I spent a relatively hassle free five hours being shuttled around between London, Luton and Leicester before getting back to Nottingham at 1pm. Worryingly, there was no news of my husband. Finally, at 3pm I get news that he’s safe and was now attempting to get back home.
I can’t help but think of the 'what ifs' - What if he had been on the tube a few, brief moments later. What if he'd been going through Kings Cross or had been on or near the bus.
And I am obviously thinking that my joy at finding him unscathed, whole and - above all - merely frightened, means another’s grief.
So for what it’s worth, here’s my task.
- It’s called the Don’t Kill People Party.
- The manifesto is simple. Don’t kill people. Don’t blow them up, don’t rip apart lives and families and a way of life just because YOU think we should all do it YOUR way. It’s the equivalent of playground bullying, violence solves nothing and escalates into brutal rhetoric, which fires other stupid, bigoted people into a round of tit-for-tat retaliation.
- The Leader will be….I don’t know… Gandhi? Bertrand Russell? Or maybe just someone’s mother.