There are no real words to describe how I felt when I heard about the terrorist attack on London Bridge last night. Philippa texted me: "You're not near London Bridge are you?" I'd gone for an evening stroll on the Heath. I'd heard a few sirens and a couple of helicopters, but nothing particularly untoward.
I instantly texted Brother Edward - who is more likely to be in that part of town - and then emailed my Mum to say I was okay. There's very little else you can do.
Nathan was out for the evening, with friends in East London, but I couldn't get through to him. Instinctively I knew he'd be fine. As he was. But I kept thinking "what if he went off piste? What if he ended up in Borough Market for some reason?"
There's nothing else to say. London will carry on like nothing's happened. War time spirit, and all that...