‘JUST one question Martin – who do you think did it?

‘Because these were your people – granted you might never have met the man who planted the Bridge Street bomb.

‘But you moved in these circles for long enough, these were your ‘brothers’ in arms. And don’t forget there was the abortive gas works attack, which would have wiped out half of Orford, fancy apologising for that too?

‘Time to ditch the swish suit, climb down off the barricade. Bridge Street – who do you think did it Mr McGuinness?’ Questions which were probably not asked of Northern Ireland’s deputy first minister when he breezed into Warrington for the Tim Parry and Johnathan Ball Foundation’s annual peace lecture.

And with Wilf Ball and Marie Comerford gone, perhaps only Colin and Wendy Parry have the divine right to be so forthright with this former IRA commander turned political animal.

But one of my nearest and dearest was in the middle of Bridge Street in ‘93, and there are dozens, if not hundreds of local families who can say that their lives were irrevocably touched by the events of 20 years ago.

I’ve always respected Colin Parry for the path he chose – he’s still one of the most difficult interviews I’ve regularly had to undertake and I’ve not always agreed with everything said and done on behalf of the peace movement.

But the enduring work the Parrys have made their life’s mission, the bringing together of young people of many different backgrounds, to build on shared experiences, is its own testament.

Except, for my sins, I’m much more Old Testament about this. And I don’t necessarily think I’m alone in my ivory tower, for once.

I’ll watch you swan about, playing the international diplomat Martin, proffering mealy-mouthed platitudes, hollow expressions of sorrow tripping off your tongue on cue.

Even now, two decades on from the fact, the police file is still open and it’s never too late to make a clean breast of it, once all the gladhanding and photo opportunities are over.

And you could make your long march to respectability finally complete by turning in those who’ve skulked in the shadows since the eve of Mother’s Day 1993, while you’ve basked in the bright lights of Stormont and the Good Friday Agreement. So how about it Martin? Who do you think did it?