Janey Godley: Does modern life let us shrug off other people's tragedies?

Published on Sunday 28 September 2008 19:42

LAST WEEK in London I was enjoying the late summer sun. I love London when it is cloaked in that red-purple light, shading the city. My iPod firmly in my ears, my feet tapping in time to the music, I was well happy with my wee world.

I hopped on a bus to go visit a mate who lived near Wandsworth Bridge Road and, as soon as I got off at the stop, I saw people run around in panic pointing towards the high flats in front of me. I followed their eyes, looked up and I watched a woman fall through the air from a balcony. My eyes snapped shut. I didn't want to see this awful image and have it in my brain for future recall.

Shock made me stagger around on the pavement and people were now running around with wide open mouths and frightened faces. I couldn't hear anything; a Steely Dan song was banging its tune into my ears.

The woman died on impact. The police were there in minutes cordoning off the area.

My wee world was shattered in seconds. As I unplugged the music, I watched some local kids screech towards the scene on their bikes. They gathered around me as I tried to get away from the flats.

I heard one of the kids shout: "That woman is dead!" and then a young girl flipped her mobile phone open, music pumped out and a few of them danced along to the beat.

Some of the children craned their necks to see the body on the ground, while their mates sang along to the music. I was horrified. This was almost as disturbing as the incident itself.

Kids who seem immune to death or shock – is that what inner city living does to the young?

Small children and families in the surrounding flats were peering over their own balconies; parents were ushering kids back inside when they saw the woman's body lying on the forecourt of their apartments. It was a very public end to this woman's life.

And what of the poor woman who was lying dead on the ground? Did she fall? Jump?

I have no idea. There is no point in trying to make sense of what had happened. You can't create an imaginary life for someone who is now dead and try to figure out how she felt when she decided to end her own life.

There is no reasoning for why it happens we just know that it does.

Life goes on. The crime scene people cleaned up the impact site, the kids cycled away and I went round to meet my mate for our dinner date.

We're a close-knit family

YESTERDAY I went over to see my great-niece, Abi. She is now five years old and I thought it was time to teach her to knit. I sat her on my knee and her wee chubby baby fingers copied mine as she fiddled about with the pink wool. After much tongue sticking-out and finger twisting, she managed to knit away under my close supervision.

I tried not to laugh as her concentration was fully locked on the bulky needles and her attention to make sure she never dropped a stitch made her wee brows knit into a pattern all by themselves.

Finally she finished and I showed her how to cast off – Bobby the hamster is now the proud owner of a lumpy pink scarf, which he tried to eat as soon as he was given the lovely gift.

Abi is now attempting to knit bootees for the rabbit.

With a publicist like that, who needs any more promotion?

THIS week I will be on a wee Scottish comedy tour.

I will be in St Andrews on Thursday, Dundee on Friday and on Saturday I'm at Stirling.

My husband has the enviable job of driving me around on these comedy jaunts.

He never comes to see me do any of my comedy shows and, when people ask him why, he often says: "I have been listening to her talk since I was 16 years old. I would rather sit in the car and listen to the radio."

Not the best quote for my posters, thank you dear husband.

www.janeygodley.co.uk