Michelle Langan is a 44-year-old writer who was working in parliament on the day that Khalid Masood struck. Here is her account of what happened on that awful day.
If I have learnt anything over the past week, it has been the lesson that every day is a gift, and should be lived accordingly. I've also learnt that no matter how much we plan, sometimes life is out of our control.
Last Wednesday morning, 22nd March, I was travelling to London from Liverpool, with a charity I work for, to meet with MPs in parliament. We had a busy day planned, and were keen to get through parliamentary security as quickly as possible to ensure we weren't late. The morning went well, and parliament was particularly busy due to Prime Minister's questions. Our meetings finished at 2pm, and with some time to spare, we headed to the cafe inside the Palace of Westminster, to have some late lunch.
Michelle before the attack
It was just half an hour later, that mayhen broke out. Hearing loud screams and shouting outside, everyone in the busy cafe jumped up and ran towards the window, where the hi viz jackets of the armed police were swooping across the grounds. More screaming, and the doors of the cafe burst open, as police shouted to people walking outside to 'get inside.' Crowds rushed in, and people started to dive underneath tables, screaming and crying.
I still didn't comprehend what was going on. I'd seen a policeman fall to the ground, and thought he had been punched in the stomach by someone who had got through security. There were lots of people seeking safety. One of the groups was made up of young men from a boxing club. One of the lads was filming the chaos on his phone. 'He's got a weapon,' he shouted.
As police bundled onto the assailant, who we now know was Khalid Masood, another police officer on the other side of the glass yelled at everyone to get away from the window. We were all rushed into a back corridor, where I pulled out my phone and called my mum to let her know I was safe. At this point, it hadn't hit the news, as it was still unfolding, so she had no idea what was going on. Nor did I, and still thought it was just a fight breaking out.
During the lockdown. Photograph by Michelle Langan.
We were moved into another area, Central Lobby, along with hundreds of other people including several school groups who were visiting parliament that day, and the sound of helicopters directly above was unmistakeable. It was only at that point that I was able to piece together what had happened. Through social media, and panicked friends and family calling me, I realised that we were in the middle of a serious attack. I was devastated to hear that the police officer, PC Keith Palmer, had died, and that there were more casualties on Westminster Bridge. We were held on lockdown for several hours, and finally released at around 8pm. I was desperate to get back to Liverpool and my family, and luckily, we were able to make the last train home.
The days following have hit me harder than I thought. I have no doubt that without the selfless actions of PC Palmer, there would have certainly been more casulaties. I feel guilty that he lost his life protecting all of us. Sadly, my workplace has been less than sympathetic. Sometimes without physical injuries, people find it difficult to understand that you are affected. I was meant to be back in parliament a few days after the attack, but couldn't face it. Even seeing pictures of the flowers laid by school children and visitors has had an effect on me. With time, I will heal, but many won't. There was a lot of bravery that day, and somebody told me that in events like this, always look for the heroes, as they are there. They are the ones running towards the danger rather than away from it. PC Palmer and his colleagues are those heroes. Nobody should ever go to work and not come home.
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