We learn, slowly, quickly, there’s the pace that’s the trick and that much you know. We’ve learned that the Tube is griding to a halt, petulant TFL staff watching mothers carry prams down stairs while they stand with their plastic cups of water at the ticket gates. There are haunted looks on the faces of the commuters. I’ve learned that confessionals are pointless. I stand at the entrance. Discourse is escalating, fragmenting, accumulating.