It's a very, very, mad world in In other news

I don’t even know what to say about the terrorist attack on Manchester last night. It’s 45 minutes from home, I’ve been in that arena I don’t know how many times over the years, from my first gigs as a teenager to recent years.

I thought London was bad, my best friend works in Westminster but thankfully escaped unscathed. Manchester, where do I start. My sister’s friend L was there last night, with another friend of theirs, M. They haven’t been able to find M and have had no contact from him. I hate to even think it but the longer it goes without contact the more and more worried I become.

I’ve obsessively checked my Facebook feed today, in work, hoping for some good news. Every time I’ve been greeted with the appeal to find M being shared far and wide but no news as to his whereabouts.

It makes my blood run cold every time I think about what might have happened to him. They’re 26, just kids. It could have been my sister, she could so easily have been there. I think that’s what’s upsetting me most, I know it doesn’t do to dwell on what could have been and I am so so thankful that she was safe at home. But missing M has a brother who’s sat there wondering where the hell he’s got to, who’s frantically appealing to anyone who might have seen him, who’s frantically calling the helpline numbers hoping for good news.

I just don’t even know how to process this.

Xx