“THERE’S an estate in North London which is the sort of place where nobody steps out alone after dusk. Concrete concourses overrun with weeds, bars on every front door and the occasional shadowy hooded figure darting behind pillars make this a place riven with undercurrents of fear, despair and threat. Yet recently I found myself alone there one night, stumbling around in the fading light while dressed in my smart business suit and with £750 stuffed into my handbag….”
Council estates get a bad rap, don’t they? Full of ‘shadowing hood figures darting behind pillars’. This image of the badlands is the intro to baby food guru Annabel Karmel’s account of how she was reunited with her stolen dog, Hamilton, published in today’s Daily Mail. Karmel admits in the piece that she lives in a contrasting “leafy haven of St John’s Wood”, but she does not name the estate where she went to meet a woman who had information about missing Hamilton. We can only guess where she is referring too, but it was very much a north west London story, as the New Journal cuttings remind us. People live there. Sounds like it needs some help or some kinder press.