When news emerged yesterday that there had been an explosion outside Liverpool Women’s Hospital, I didn’t think to myself, ‘terrorism’. Not knowing any of the facts – and let’s me honest, we still don’t know anything like the full set of facts yet – I just thought it had been some awful accident. Why would an explosive device go off outside a hospital? Even the maddest terrorist maniac wouldn’t choose a hospital, would he? (I say ‘he’ because it’s usually a ‘he.) But maybe there is more to this than first meets the eye.
The explosion occurred just before 11.00am, just round the corner from Liverpool Anglican Cathedral. At precisely that time, there was a religious service in progress, attended by thousands of people, for Remembrance Day. Once you learn that bit, the brain goes into overdrive.
Already, I have almost made up my mind that this was a failed attempt at mass murder, carried out by psychopathic islamists on innocent worshippers paying tribute to those who fought in wars.
Of course, we know none of this. And because my social media pages are essentially an echo chamber, I have not seen similar suspicions raised by others. I don’t doubt that there are many, many people who fear, as I do, that this was a terrorist attack along the lines of Westminster Bridge and Borough Market.
I am hoping against hope that I’m completely wrong, that there is an innocent explanation, that everything will turn out to be fine. And until I hear otherwise, I shall presume innocence before declaring guilt, even if my head is saying something quite different.
A deliberate attempt to inflict mass murder and carnage on such a day would be a new low. My fear is that each time we reach a new low, someone usually comes along to go even lower.
