I was in manchester for an extended weekend of celebration. On Saturday I performed at The 02 Apollo with Leftfield, On Sunday I had my birthday party at King St Townihuse, on Monday I had a meal at the Lord Mayors Parlour in tribute to Maria Balshaw CBE. I was riding high on a tidal wave of love. I awoke on Tuesday morning to a distraught city amongst a tidal wave of bodies.
I walked down Market St, with my friend Jason, to The Royal Exhange. A woman stopped me with tears in her eyes “I’m glad you’re here. Thankyou.” The whole city was caught inside the storm surge. We hadn’t come up for air yet.
The flagship newspapers, tv and radio news programmes started calling. Do I have a statement? I felt alone. Do I have a statement? I felt the cold hands grab my ankles. Do I have a statement? I had a train to catch back to London. Do I have a statement. I promised the guardian I would write an article on the train. I’m numb. I receive a call asking me to be on the steps of the town hall for the people. I arrive back in London unable to write the article. And feel a real sense of guilt for not being back in Manchester.
BBC World at One call me. “we just want to broadcast your morning tweet.” They say.
— The World at One (@BBCWorldatOne) May 24, 2017