I decided to show the terrorists that I wouldn't be cowed and tried to get a bus home from Euston upon my return from Liverpool. It was another sunny day, but the bus trip was not as carefree as
this one which didn't even take place a month ago. I had been loving London this afternoon and how we were carrying on with things and still enjoying the slight frisson to living life knowing that you could be snuffed out any second by a stupid idiot who would be about to discover that he isn't actually going to spend eternity in a Heaven full of virgins, because there isn't a Heaven and so he is just going to stop existing along with some other people who were quite happy with the way things were going.
The atmosphere on the bus was weird. I deliberately sat on the top deck and deliberately sat in front of the most shifty and strange looking character, who had a bag on his lap. Everyone eyed each other a little suspiciously, but at least we were here.
It of course brought everything into sharper focus and I didn't feel quite as exhilirated anymore and a little sick. But also proud that people were carrying on.
A woman came up the stairs with a face that spoke volumes of how sick and afraid she was feeling. Her husband behind her gave her a reassuring pat on the back. She looked at me, unshaven and long haired with a big rucksack on the seat next to me and giving off a kind of "I hate humanity" kind of air and I think her eyes rolled a little bit. I wanted to tell her, "it's not me that's the terrorist, if it's anyone, it's that bloke behind me," but I was too polite.
I texted my girlfriend to let her know how brave I was being.
The bus was going slowly and I was keen to get home to prepare for my poker birthday party and then the man behind me started digging around in his bag. Suddenly my bravery deserted me a bit and I decided I would go and stand downstairs instead, because of course if he was about to set off a bomb then that would be a very safe place to be. But I didn't yet get off the bus as I didn't want the terrorists to win.
The bus was stuck in traffic and wasn't as close to Paddington as I had thought so I waited downstairs for about ten minutes and remained un-blown up. There were a couple of shaky moments where I felt a bit claustrophobic and thought about pulling open the emergency doors and fleeing, but knew that it was important to make this first step back to normality.
As we rounded one corner an elderly woman on the pavement crossed herself, presumably out of fear that the bus might blow up and take her with it.
But we made it through and despite not being as brave as I had boasted of being, I lived to see another birthday through.
