WHENEVER breaking news unfolds of something dreadful, like a natural disaster or violence in a public place, it tends to be happening to "other people", not us.

But when I switched on the TV yesterday morning and saw the words "bomb", "Manchester" and "Ariana Grande concert" a cold sweat crept over me. I realised, with horror, that my teenage niece had been at the concert.

Fumbling for my phone, it felt like my brain was detached from the rest of me. I couldn't process the headlines, I was just gripped with a basic instinct to know that Ellie, 18, and the closest I have to a daughter, was safe. I rang my sister, who told me through floods of tears that Ellie was okay, it had been terrifying but she'd eventually got home.

The relief was immense, but still I couldn't take in what happened, and what families across Manchester and across the North were going through that morning. One thing quickly became clear though - somebody had deliberately targeted an event attended by children and young people, mostly girls.

When I spoke to Ellie, she sounded dazed and exhausted, and told me a little of what happened. They thought at first the explosion was something to do with balloons released during the show then, as people ran back into the arena from exit doors, panic tore through the venue.

She saw little girls screaming, torn from parents in the chaos. Losing sight of her best friend, Ellie grabbed hold of her younger cousin and ran towards security staff who, after a short wait that "seemed to take forever", started herding people through the backstage area.

Once out of the arena, they made their way round to Manchester Victoria station, close to where the nail bomb went off - and into scenes of horror. They saw things that nobody should ever see, let alone two teenage girls.

READ ELLIE'S ACCOUNT:

At the time of writing, we know that 22 people, including children, were killed and 59 were injured in the blast. At least 20 people are in critical care in hospitals.

This was the worst act of terrorism in the North of England, and the worst in the UK since the London bombings in July, 2005. The nation is on critical terror alert.

The UK is no stranger to terrorism - as a child in the 1970s, I grew up with regular news reports of IRA attacks - but we're now in an age when anything can happen, to any of us, anywhere, any time.

On Monday Ellie and her 18-year-old cousin, Polly, went to a pop concert they'd been excited about for months. Now they are changed forever. "It was the best night of my life, and it turned into the worst," said Ellie.

It was the worst night for many families, including several from our district. I don't know how we can move on, only that we must build on the solidarity that has arisen from this dreadful event.

Last night thousands gathered in Manchester in defiance, and a candlelit vigil was held in Otley for missing mother Wendy Fawell, who was at the concert with her daughter.

And there have been soul-stirring acts of human kindness. Idle couple Phil and Kim Dick, waiting outside the concert for their daughter and granddaughter, tended to a badly injured girl, choking on blood, not knowing if their own girls were alive or dead.

In the wake of terror, it's natural to be afraid. But it's also a time to cherish the goodness in people, and to stand together.

Those who are capable of blowing up children at a pop concert prey on divisions in our communities; fertile for radicalisation. This is a time for faiths and communities to unite against what is essentially evil, in anyone's name.

* THE shameful pitch invasion following Saturday's play-off final at Wembley has been widely condemned, but for some City fans it was sadly predictable.

"It's what Millwall do," said my brother, who was taunted by Millwall knuckle-scrapers on his way to the match. He and his mates took it in their stride. They've seen it all before.

Invading the pitch at Wembley, however, is something else. Not content with simply celebrating their Championship dream, Millwall 'fans' goaded City players and Stuart McCall, wallowing in the Bantams' defeat.

Isn't it time the EFl dealt with this mob by only allowing Millwall season ticket holders to such matches? That might at least keep out the rent-a-mob.

* CAN you recall the names of Princess Diana's sisters? Me neither. Nobody was interested in two frumpy Sloanes in frilly blouses.

So why the obsession with the Duchess of Cambridge's younger sister? Why the need to cover every detail of Pippa's wedding, from the peonies adorning the church entrance to the posh marquee toilets?

The groom and best man wore dusty pink ties, apparently. Pips arrived in an open-top grey 1951 Jaguar MK V. There was a bit of larking around by a page boy, and table-tennis was played at the evening do.

Does anyone really care?

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