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March 30th 2011 was a normal day except for one big difference, I wasn't based at home, but instead had gone with my friend Sarah to The Old Bailey, two writers doing random research. When my train came through the last tunnel, after our interesting day, it bleeped continually with messages. I am not that popular. Something was wrong. I called my youngest son. 'Mum,' he said, 'They've just taken a stretcher in to go and get you.' I didn't understand and said so. 'We've had a
