Over the weekend the older child begged for a trip to London; she desperately needed to see the Mr. Clement show before it closed. I was opposed in theory not only because of the bombings, but because I do not wish to see undercover police officers shoot innocent people in the head. But since I walk through life anticipating imminent destruction I rarely let these things dictate my actions.
It seemed statistically improbable that we would get blown up.
The first thing we saw upon entering King’s Cross was a poster for the film Me and You and Everyone We Know. My daughter stopped, pointed, and exclaimed Hey! I was in one of her movies!
I nodded and nudged her to move because she was blocking pedestrian traffic. But the poster appeared around every corner, in every tube station, throughout the day. Byron didn’t notice because he was lost in his own internal world of maths but the small boy, who appeared in The Swan Tool, counted dozens of posters throughout the day.
The children were nicely distracted by the posters, and the macabre toys they purchased at the store featuring the Mr. Clement show. They did not even notice that we were evacuated from Liverpool Street Station.