I remember, 9 years ago today, that it was my first day off after thirteen shifts in a row.

I remember, 9 years ago today, driving my car to the garage for its annual MOT test.

I remember, 9 years ago today, walking the mile or so home to be greeted by a yell from upstairs telling me that there’d been “Some sort of power surge on the London Underground.”

I remember, 9 years ago today, of a shiver going down my spine and me yelling back “That’s no power surge, that’s terrorism. Just wait ten minutes for the official news.”

I remember, 9 years ago today, of running upstairs, putting on the uniform and boots that I’d thought were going to have a day’s rest.

I remember, 9 years ago today, of calling the garage, explaining, apologising, telling them I need the car back and that I’d rebook the test.

I remember, 9 years ago today, running back to the garage, finding that they’d done the test, refused to charge me for it, and the manager saying “I hope it really is just a power surge.”

I remember, 9 years ago today, that London was taken back to darker days. To days of fear and terror and explosions and loss of life.