Memories take on a darker hue

THE pained faces of families fleeing the heart of London will forever be etched in my memory.

Mothers clutched their children while panicked tourists with tears in their eyes backed away from the shadow of Westminster Palace and an ever-expanding police cordon.

It was clear many of the children were too young to understand, as I would have been when I first visited Big Ben and Buckingham Palace at the age of seven.

Those memories have been replaced by that look of fear and sadness on the faces of people there watching a tragedy unfold.

“We don’t want more people in there mate, we are trying to clear people out of the road,” said one police officer at Lambeth Bridge as he erected a barrier.

The officer was visibly shaking and on edge. It was understandable as one of his colleagues had been stabbed to death just 45 minutes earlier.

The city was in lockdown in a way I had never seen before.

Groups of people were trying to get through blockades but access was being denied and there was confusion for those who had just arrived.

“What is going on, are we in danger here?” asked one Canadian woman with a camera around her neck.

She gasped when police told her of the attack.

The Tube was shut down and people were worried it would be hours before they could get home.

On a side street overlooking the Palace of Westminster many people had gathered at nearby pubs to talk through what they had seen.

Others called loved ones to let them know they were safe.

“We all walk across that bridge every day,” said Kate Brents, 25, who works in event management.

For many living in London, including myself, the attack was too close to home.

It is unlikely the feeling of safety will return anytime soon.