‘Some of us found we were unable to feel any joy in being alive,’ Rachel said. ‘Every time we went to sleep we had nightmares, of banging our hands against the glass of the train, battering away, trying to smash our way out of this train that was filled with smoke. Remember we all thought we were going to die, entombed in the smoke. And none of us had expected it.’ Rachel paused for a second, then she said: ‘We’d all just been on our way to work.’
