2020 Page 2

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  I THINK MANY working-class men in particular felt enough was enough. Which party cares about our existence? The Labour Party certainly doesn’t: they abandoned the working class a long time ago. They wanted to win over the undecided higher up, and so they became a middle-class party. The unions, the anti-nuclear movement, a whole lot else—all that was sacrificed on the altar. I think many men especially were angry; they felt totally abandoned. Who was representing them? Certainly not the Tories or the Liberals. I felt in a no-man’s-land, that’s for sure, with no idea who to believe any more. I think a lot of men in particular simply gave up voting altogether. What was the point? If the party wasn’t bothered about them, why should they run to defend the party?

  I think it was dangerous. It meant a lot of men from traditionally hard-working backgrounds, who weren’t getting any better off, were in danger of becoming extremists. They saw Asians and blacks getting free flats and widescreen televisions because they happened to have the right colour of skin. I think political correctness has a lot to answer for. It makes people even angrier; it doesn’t solve a thing. You have to educate to do that; creating nice slogans and putting the right faces on television solves nothing at all. It just makes people even more resentful.

  And I don’t think the race questions were really being looked at. There was a whole lot you couldn’t talk about. The fact that it was gangs of black youths that were doing most of the killing in London—you couldn’t talk about that. It was never admitted in the media. People aren’t stupid, but politicians make them out to be. Political correctness has the opposite effect in my opinion. It causes even more resentment. I don’t believe it makes ethnic minorities feel any better about themselves. Probably they feel patronised.

  So having something to join was important. It made people, especially men, feel they had something at last. The fact it was radical and ready to act mattered. They were tired of silence and inquiries and political correctness on all sides. This was about marching and about telling the truth. About getting our country back. I’m not sure we hated anybody, not to begin with. We were angry, pure and simple. I don’t think it takes a detective to work out where that anger came from. I don’t feel ashamed of it. I never have. We believed that what we were doing was for the best. I still believe that. I always will.

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  I HAVE AGREED to talk about my son for one reason only: I am ashamed of him. I never believed that such a thing would be possible, but it is. When you bring a child into this world, when you are a mother especially—how can you feel shame? Love is unconditional: all parents must see their child making mistakes, but they have to forgive again and again. As a Muslim I forgive, but I am ashamed just the same, and I cannot believe that shame will diminish. I had such high hopes for my son; both my husband and I had such high hopes. What do you do with the memories of those hopes when such a thing as this happens? I have to carry the shame of this within my community; the anger comes from both sides—from all sides. And I am not surprised.

  It was my parents who came to settle in England from Pakistan, and my husband’s parents. You could say our marriage was arranged; perhaps it is better to say it was planned. They were grateful for what they had been given. They did not talk about that much, but I knew it in my father especially. He had a harsh upbringing and coming to England for him was a kind of escape. He carried a gratitude within him that I saw now and again, that I could almost hear in his voice sometimes.

  So I feel shame and I also feel guilt. I feel guilt that I did not pass on this sense of gratitude to my son and my daughter. But I am not sure they would have understood what he felt; I am not certain that gratitude would have made any sense to them. My children grew up with everything they needed. They never knew what it meant to go without. In that respect it was no different from how the other children round about them lived.

  I blame a virtual world for stealing my son away. We did everything we could to set him on the right road, but how do you bring someone back from a virtual world? Yes, I was aware that I was losing him at the end of his school days. He went to his bedroom at ten o’clock every night, school days and weekends, and I knew he was not sleeping. I knew he was on the computer, but we trusted him never to watch pornography. We were certain that was not an issue.

  Yes, he had two friends in particular. He met them in his first year at university and they came a few times to visit. They would always be in his room talking. I never heard laughter from them, just their voices. Sometimes I came upstairs to find something and I heard their voices. They would go quiet as if they knew someone was there outside. Once I knocked and asked if they wanted anything, but my son answered and said they were fine. They were always polite, but my son never introduced them and they always left the house together. He didn’t want to talk about them. By then he didn’t want to talk about anything. I felt I had lost him. Perhaps that is looking back on it now. I am not sure how much I thought about it then. He still seemed so young, only one year out of school.

  I feel shame and guilt, one as much as the other. And I do not know what to do with either of them. I believe I will take them with me to my grave.

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  I SAW THE whole thing as it happened. We live on a farm and the London line is almost exactly a mile west of us. When you’re outside you can generally hear the trains going past, if the wind’s right especially. You just take them for granted; you get used to them.

  I simply got up that night to open the window. It had been very still that day and quite hot. We’d gone to bed and the room was too warm. My partner Kevin suffers from asthma and that kind of airlessness is what he finds almost the worst. I think we’d woken up about twenty minutes earlier and he was wheezing. I got up to open the window and let in some fresher air.

  I saw the whole thing, you could say, in slow motion. My eyes were right on it as I heard this colossal bang and the train seemed to light up, turn this orange colour, and the carriages just went this way and that. It’s hard to piece it all back together now: you can’t tell afterwards how long the whole thing lasted. You’re so much in shock, you don’t know. I don’t know whether I screamed or was silent. I think it was all the stranger, all the more horrible, because after the explosion I don’t remember hearing a thing. You just saw the crumpling of all these carriages that were lit up. You imagine afterwards those who must have been inside and the noise there would have been: the absolute terror and the screaming. And I could see it all happening in front of me and not hear a thing. Total silence.

  Even now I don’t remember a thing. I must have turned away from the window but it was like swimming through deep water. I don’t know what I said to Kevin but I could hear myself speaking; I could see him coming towards me and I knew that everything else was forgotten. He was throwing on his clothes to go out there, telling me to do things. It was just a total nightmare, but you do things all the same—you have to. Something else takes over and you do what you have to—I suppose it’s what they call automatic pilot. The next thing I remember is being on the phone, but I have no idea how much later that was. I have no earthly idea. I don’t think time meant much any more. Every second was cut up into hundreds of little bits, and afterwards you see them all like in a film. That was the way it was.

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  IT IS BELIEVED there was an explosion at just after four thirty this morning on an East Coast sleeper train travelling from Edinburgh to London, which come off the line about sixty miles north of London. At least a hundred and sixty-four passengers are known to have been killed, but it is feared the death toll may rise considerably. There is speculation that a bomb was detonated on board, and the whole area around the crash site is being treated as a crime scene. An emergency meeting of the COBRA defence team will be held later this morning, and it is understood that the Prime Minister will make a statement when he visits the scene of the crash thereafter. The Archbishop of Canterbury has asked that people “of all faiths and none” stop what they are doing at
some point in the next hours to keep all those who have been killed or injured in their thoughts and prayers. It is believed that a class of primary children who were to be performing at a concert later today in London were among those travelling: it was the first time that some of the youngsters had been away from home on their own. Representatives from all of the political parties have spoken of their utter revulsion at the tragedy, and of their fears that this might have been some kind of terrorist attack. However, no group has claimed any kind of responsibility for the crash, and police are stressing that it will be some hours before any kind of detailed picture of precisely what happened can be given. In the meantime, those anxious about the well-being or relatives or friends are asked to call one of several special numbers set up by East Coast. Those numbers will be given in full at the end of this bulletin, and they are also to be found on our website and on that of East Coast. Extra staff have been drafted in to cope with the expected volume of calls over the coming hours, and East Coast have asked that callers remain patient because of the unprecedented nature of the situation.

  Our main headline once more: it is believed there has been an explosion on an East Coast sleeper train, which came off the line at just after four thirty this morning in open country about sixty miles north of London. There is some speculation that a bomb was detonated on board. The death toll stands at present at a hundred and sixty-four, and there are reports of large numbers of people with serious injuries—especially of passengers who have suffered severe burns. The site of the crash is difficult to access, and it took some time for the emergency services to reach the derailed carriages, several of which are believed to have been on fire. Sufficient medical staff are now in attendance, but there are still urgent pleas for further blood donors to come forward. Colleen Phillips, a London nurse who happened to be close to the location of the tragedy at the time and who offered her services to the rescue team, said that conditions were, and I quote, “very difficult indeed.” Let’s speak now to our reporter Simon Andrew, who’s in a radio car about a mile from the site of the crash.

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  JUST TERROR, WHAT else can you say? One minute you’re asleep and the next there’s the most almighty bang, and the whole train’s in the air and being torn apart. I think it was the noise; you can’t imagine what that sort of noise is like, and it comes out of nowhere. It felt as though our carriage went down some kind of embankment; I thought it was going to turn over but it didn’t, thank God. It was somehow up in the air, though, and there was a fire at the far end. Everything suddenly went dark and a woman was screaming and screaming; I think she must have been on fire. I can’t forget that screaming; I don’t think I ever will. Then I felt this guy hauling me up out of the seat and I somehow seemed to waken up. I suppose I was in total shock and just sitting there trying to make some kind of sense of the whole thing. He was saying to me he was going to get me out, that I was going to be all right, and he basically dragged me down onto the bank. I don’t know where he went after that. I half lay there and it was as if all the sounds started coming through to me; it was like somebody turned up the volume. I had no idea where I was, but I suddenly felt freezing cold. And I don’t suppose I was thinking straight; I realised I didn’t have my jacket and that I should go back for it. And then all this wailing seemed to hit me; I could see a fire ahead of me and there was this terrible smell of burning. I thought of what must have happened and I just began crying; I remember calling out my husband’s name, even though he hadn’t been with me. The full shock of it just hit me and I felt terrified; it was a wave of fear that went through me, over and over. I don’t know how long that went on for, and then this woman was holding me and just cradling me, rocking me. I suddenly looked at my hands and saw they were completely covered in blood. That was the first time I became aware of any pain; before that I hadn’t felt a thing. She just asked me what my name was and held me and rocked me, said my name over and over again as though I was a child. I still want to find the guy who must have saved my life. I realise I was incredibly fortunate; I imagine an awful lot of people must have been horrifically injured. All I think of still is that woman screaming, the one who must have been on fire. You can’t get a sound like that out of your head. I don’t know how you ever do.

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  “I WOULD LIKE first of all to express my outrage at the carnage inflicted on our nation in the early hours of this morning. We do know now that this was indeed a terrorist attack, and in choosing a train travelling from Edinburgh to London—from the north of our country to the very south—the terrorists were attacking representatives from every corner. There was a class of schoolchildren travelling to participate in a choir competition; there were ordinary men and women making journeys to visit relatives and travel home from holiday. It would be impossible to visit a site like this and not be moved by the evidence of such indiscriminate killing. But I’m also left angry—angry that this crime should be perpetrated in such a sickeningly heartless manner. Many people have been left with terrible burns; many more may die as a result of their injuries. We do not know precisely who has carried out such a cowardly attack but, make no mistake, we will turn over every single shred of evidence at this place of killing to ensure we do find the terrorists. I would ask all of you to be vigilant at this time and to inform the police of any suspicions you may have. Even the smallest piece of evidence may be important in tracking down those who committed this atrocity here at Burroway.

  “I don’t believe this is the time to stand on any kind of political platform. I am standing here this morning as a husband and a father, and my heart goes out to those who have lost their loved ones in a truly horrific manner. There must be a time for grieving first of all—that goes without saying—but then will come a time of root-and-branch searching for every clue that leads to the perpetrators of this hideous crime. And make no mistake, they will be hunted down, caught and punished—however long that may take. My thanks go to those of you from the media who have made the journey from London, and elsewhere, to be here at very short notice.”

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  “I WOULD LIKE to remind those assembled here today that this hearing is being held in complete secrecy, and that the anonymity of our witness is totally assured. He has volunteered to speak to the committee because of the information he possesses; it was his wish to make us aware of his evidence for the benefit of our inquiry. All we are at liberty to mention is that he is a senior officer with the Metropolitan Police, and that he has been in their ranks for over twenty years. So we would like to offer our sincere thanks to you for your willingness to address us today. We’re extremely grateful.”

  “Well, I realise the gravity of the situation and the responsibility that is placed upon us. I am also self-evidently aware of the vulnerability of my position and the need to speak cautiously, especially in light of recent revelations concerning the Met, and the unfortunate attention that has brought us. I think it’s important to mention from the outset that my immediate superior—I am not even revealing his official rank to do all possible to protect his identity—lost his only brother in the Burroway bombing that morning. I would ask that this be kept in mind as I give my evidence, and may I assure the committee that I am providing as full an account as is possible.

  “We did realise very quickly that this was a terrorist incident. I think that was officially revealed at about eleven o’clock in the morning, shortly before the statement the Prime Minister gave to the nation from the site of the bombing. But it was actually understood very early on: it was suspected from almost the first moment.

  “Three of the four members of the terrorist group were killed outright by the blast; for some reason that we don’t fully understand, the fourth member was farther back in the train at the time of the explosion. It may be that he actually lost his nerve at the last moment, or that he had perhaps started to doubt the validity of the whole operation long before. As I say, we simply don’t know the answer to that at this point, but whatever the reason, th
e result was that he did manage to preserve his own life. In fact, it’s not just a case of his surviving the explosion and the derailment and fire—he was actually all but unscathed. We were investigating the carriage where the bomb had been detonated and he basically staggered up to us. He was in a very distressed state and confessed his part in the atrocity from the outset. He was immediately put under arrest and taken to our car. It was still not fully light, and the whole episode was witnessed by no one else. Well, perhaps a more helpful way of expressing it is that there were few at the site of the bombing who would have paid attention to his presence or arrest at that moment. It has to be remembered that it was a scene of utter devastation: the living and the dead were being pulled from the remains of twisted carriages and life-saving treatment was being given to numerous individuals. From a police perspective, his appearance was almost too good to be true. Here was one surviving terrorist, completely unharmed, who could be removed from the scene without anyone observing a thing. From there he was taken to a secret location in London.”