January is renowned for being a difficult month, and sometimes with the best will in the world it’s hard to shake off the blues. In Bristol this year we’ve had the additional cloud of the murder of Jo Yeates and its aftermath. Even out here in the South Glos sticks, everyone has been to Canynge Road at one time or another, everyone knows someone who knows the school teacher arrested soon after, or who works at the place where Jo or the current suspect was employed. And everyone, including me, has wished for the guilty person to be found, sooner rather than later.
But last night when Vincent Tabac was charged, I felt no relief. If anything, the awfulness of it all just grew more real.