It occurred to me as I watched the story unfolding on my
TV, of a suspected plot by a group of at least 20 British Muslims to blow up planes between the
UK and America, that the course of my life and that of the alleged “terrorists” may have run in parallel in more ways than one. Like a number of them, I am originally from High Wycombe, one of the non-descript commuter towns that ring London. As the
TV showed aerial shots wheeling above the tiled roof of a semi-detached house there, I briefly thought I was looking at my mother’s home. But, doubtless, my and their lives have diverged in numerous ways. So, even though we may have been neighbours of a sort in High Wycombe, my life and theirs probably had few points of contact.