Peter Rhodes on the gentlest touches, a misguided demo and whatever happened to the slave-trade profits in Africa?

Great headlines of our age. “Spanish porn actor arrested over fatal toad-venom ceremony” (Guardian). You've just got to read on, haven't you?

Here's an idle thought. Will we become a romantically sensitised nation in these pandemic times? For years, Britain has been a touchy-feely sort of place where men and women who are fond of each other routinely kiss cheeks, shake hands and hug. But in an age of two-metre separation, how long before any form of physical contact becomes a really big deal and we crave the slightest touch that not so long ago we'd have barely noticed?

As physical contact becomes as rare as in olden days, will we revert to the stage where a peck on the cheek sends a woman off in a fit of the vapours while a young man, on having his arm lightly touched by a female, has to rush off for a cold shower? If you doubt the potency of the briefest touch in a non-touching society, have a look at the moment in the 2005 movie Pride & Prejudice when Darcy (Matthew Macfadyen) helps Elizabeth (Keira Knightly) into a carriage and their hands brush. Pure electricity. Do excuse me, must have a shower.

“We will not be silent,” declared the placards in the Hyde Park demo for Black Lives Matter. Actually, if you die from the Covid-19 virus picked up in that great throng, you will be very silent indeed. And if you take the virus home and it's your parents or grandparents who die, you will be struck dumb with grief and guilt. The scenes at Hyde Park were reminiscent of the ill-fated terraces at Cheltenham Festival. Will they never learn?

This virus doesn't care whether you are honouring a man killed by police, or putting a fiver on the favourite. It preys on crowds. The Hyde Park event may have been a great symbol of empathy and rage in a fine cause but in public-health terms it was an act of mass irresponsibility. We can only pray that its rallying chant: “I can't breathe” doesn't come true.

Inevitably, the George Floyd outrage has stirred the legacy of slavery and Britain's role in it. It was a shameful time and we should admit it. And there is one huge and unaddressed issue. By now, the billions made in Britain and America from the slave trade have been tracked and accounted for. We know exactly which cities, universities and individuals, men like Bristol's Edward Colston, grew rich from centuries of misery. But this was a two-way trade. What happened to the vast sums paid to African slave traders? Who were the African Edward Colstons and are the proceeds from their past sins still being enjoyed by their descendants?

I can only apologise, after several earlier warnings from twitchers, that the S-word somehow slipped into Friday's column. Although there are many species of gulls, there is no such thing as a seagull.