It was a relatively normal morning. I lived with my boyfriend in Highgate, North London and was heading into university to take one of the first exams of my first year studying Journalism with Sociology. A French listening and speaking exam. I wasn't nervous. My French classes where we were taught by a particularly 'cool' lecturer who liked to talk in depth about the primal experiences she felt during childbirth without pain relief. As you do.
My sister called my mobile as I caught the bus from outside my flat. She was worried about our Dad. He'd left a 'strange' voicemail on her phone whilst she'd been working at a pub the previous night.