Parsons Green stirred, but stoical as terror strikes London yet again

It was during the peak of the school run on Friday that a plastic Lidl bag caught fire in a Tube train packed with commuters at Parsons Green in Fulham.

It is a largely residential part of west London, where people tend to live by default rather than by choice. Many of the inhabitants would rather be in Chelsea or Kensington, but the houses here, as well as being smaller, are also cheaper.

It is a place where people go when they first marry to settle down and have babies, or drive through on the way out of London toward the countryside. Nothing much happens in Fulham; even the football fans are well behaved as their team makes its way serenely down the divisions.

But all of a sudden in rush hour yesterday, the young mothers pushing their prams were all pointing upward, copied by their young charges crying “helicopter, helicopter.”

Then the scared and scarred commuters started coming out of the London Underground station, some of them screaming. They congregated on Parsons Green, best known as the site of a pub called The White Horse.

Ambulances came screeching down the roads, and a small part of the capital ground to a standstill. Homes within the immediate vicinity were evacuated. Armed police emerged from a large vehicle that looked rather like a caravan. A crowd gathered behind the police cordon, then wandered off when it seemed like nothing else was happening.

Less than half a mile, or another Tube stop away, the locals in the Shot Espresso cafe in Jerdan Place were continuing as if nothing major had happened, except a little local drama to spice up their day. The helicopters were still visible, but less audible.

“Bring me my regular comfort in times of crisis,” said a regular customer to the barista. “A large flat white coffee please, Mike.”

Outside people sat in the sunshine, until the sun was covered by a large black cloud. Then the rumor went around that a man had rushed into a school with a knife; the Fulham Road was closed to traffic, except for police cars and more ambulances.

When a tourist walking by dropped a suitcase, it made a noise like a gun going off; a few people jumped in their seats, but otherwise the mood was calm.

Back at Parsons Green there were residents offering cups of tea to the startled commuters, many of whom had decided to take this particular Friday off.

There were also the parents of children at Kensington Preparatory School, who had been told to gather there to collect their youngsters.

There was a little anger, some resentment, but mainly resignation. By 6 p.m., there was nobody there except lots of police and a number of film crews.

There was a slight scuffle between rival TV channels, who each thought the other had a better view, but otherwise all was calm. Overhead the helicopters had left, to be replaced by planes queuing up to land at Heathrow airport.

There is no other way to get around the UK capital on a crowded Friday, so before long everybody was using the Tube again, hurrying underground and looking a little more intently at anybody with a backpack, and especially anyone with a Lidl bag.

The irony is that Lidl is a cut-price supermarket, a long way from the aspirational Fulham dwellers, who would rather be seen in Waitrose or Marks & Spencer.

A small indignity, perhaps, but one the residents and commuters on the District Line will bear with the same stoicism that accompanies any terrorist incident in London.