Portland Road, Notting Hill, London

Grenfell Tower, or rather the burnt-out remains of it, stands close to where I work. 

Sixty-eight days after the tragedy, it's a gruesome monument to the negligence which resulted in more than 80 people in one of London's most deprived neighbourhoods being incinerated.

Three minutes' walk away is Portland Road, where a four-bed terrace goes for £6.5million.

In Florence, there's no escaping the Duomo in the historic centre. Its giant dome seems to appear at one end or the other of every street. 

Grenfell Tower is like that as you wander round the mewses, places and squares on the western edge of Notting Hill. There are hideous glimpses of its blackened shell at every turn.

Shamefully, it's being reported that only a third of the relief money raised is finding its way to the bereaved and the survivors of the June 14 fire.

Meanwhile, some MPs gathered outside Parliament today to protest that Big Ben won't chime for four years. One of them, a Labour member I'm embarrassed to say, was crying.