Lee Lawrence was 11 when his mother, Cherry Groce, was paralysed during a botched police raid. It was the end of his childhood and the start of his fight for her life and legacy

When Lee Lawrence’s son, Brandon, picked him up from hospital after a minor operation recently, Brandon thought he saw a car following them. Lawrence looked round and told his son he didn’t think it was anything to worry about. But then the car – which turned out to be an undercover police vehicle – put its siren on. It overtook them and did a hard stop. “I expected to see guns come out next,” says Lawrence. “I thought: ‘What the hell is going on?’ I got upset. My son was trying to calm me down, because I was thinking: ‘How could this be happening to my son?’”

Lawrence was 11 when his mother, Cherry Groce, was shot and paralysed in 1985 by an armed police officer during a botched raid on her home. Community fury over Groce’s shooting would spark a two-day uprising in Brixton, south London.

The home secretary’s immigration plan is framed in punitive terms. But at least she is wrestling the debate back towards integration and belonging

In Twickenham, at the weekend, the crowd was a sea of red and white.

England’s colours were everywhere – plastered on sweatshirts and painted over faces, fluttering from flags – and the mood was unmistakably joyful. For this was of course the Women’s Rugby World Cup final, not some ominous “raise the colours” rally: a chance to remember that the St George’s cross doesn’t belong to people who daub it on roundabouts to frighten the neighbours, that there is still a kind of Englishness that inspires hope, not fear. Rugby’s Red Roses, like football’s Lionesses and Gareth Southgate’s young male England squad before them, embody a consciously inclusive form of patriotism: a message that their victories are for everyone, male or female, black or white, gay or straight.

Gaby Hinsliff is a Guardian columnist

A colossal volcanic eruption in January 2022 ripped apart the underwater cables that connect Tonga to the world – and exposed the fragility of 21st-century life

For a while, Sam Vea had been smelling sulphur on the air – only mildly infernal, like a distant sniff of hell, but sulphur nonetheless. Still, on the Saturday evening when the explosion happened, he sat up in fright. It sounded so near he thought some cataclysm had occurred right there, in his neighbourhood. The windows trembled. The curtains fell off. Vea peeked out of his house but saw nothing destroyed or on fire, so he looked at his wife and said: “This has to be the volcano.”

Vea and his wife live in Tofoa, which, if you squint and picture Tonga’s main island of Tongatapu as a long, medieval shoe, lies just below the instep, on a gentle rise of earth. They’d just returned home after dropping their daughters at a birthday party, but now Vea dashed to his van to go and collect them. On the way back, the road filled with cars hurrying away from the sea, and tiny pebbles fell from the sky. Not that long before, curious to see what a big volcanic eruption looked like, Vea had watched Dante’s Peak on Netflix. In the movie, he remembered now, a white-hot rock had punched through the roof of a truck and killed Pierce Brosnan’s partner, so he pulled over to wait out the traffic. The skies grew mottled with dust and ash. Drivers got out, took off their shirts and wiped their windshields down so they could see the road ahead. When they reached home, after two and a half hours, Vea sent his children to hide under the bed.

New York film festival: Jeremy Allen White is a convincingly tortured rock star in this smartly narrow and specific look at a particular chapter of music history

The genre of the musical biopic is one that, as Timothée Chalamet acknowledged while accepting a Sag award for playing Bob Dylan earlier this year, “could be perhaps tired”. The beats of the genre – the initial obstacles, the double-edged sword of success, the actors’ pursuit of industry awards for spirited impersonation – are by now so familiar that you’re almost expected to enter with more than a bit of skepticism, even when the artist at hand is one as widely beloved as Bruce Springsteen.

Like A Complete Unknown, in which Chalamet portrayed Dylan from 1961 until his pivot to electric in 1965, Deliver Me from Nowhere, Springsteen’s authorized biopic starring Jeremy Allen White, tries to thread a difficult needle between offering the standard treats and subverting expectations, between narrativizing genius and resisting hagiography. This may be an impossible task, given that the magic and cliches of popular music often go hand in hand, and Deliver Me from Nowhere certainly has its spoof-worthy moments. I went in braced for success montages, leaden flashbacks and capital-R Realizations, and at times met them. (Though to be clear, the expected treat of watching White, of the Bear and Calvin Klein underwear ad fame, tear up the stage as The Boss is still exactly that.) But more often I was won over by its diversions in form – its specificities, its smallness and its portrait of mental fragility.

Pippa Crerar and Kiran Stacey sit down with the mayor of Greater Manchester live at the Labour party conference in Liverpool

From the ziggurats of the MI6 HQ to TV-am’s eggcups and a Hong Kong tower that featured on a banknote, Farrell strived to make uplifting architecture
• ‘Nonconformist’ architect of MI6 building dies – news
• Spies, eggcups and penthouses: Farrell’s best buildings – gallery

Terry Farrell made his mark on London. All his buildings had a certain postmodernist swagger, but one of his most conspicuous (ironically, in view of its function) was the headquarters of the UK’s Secret Intelligence Service, better known as MI6, on the site of the former Vauxhall pleasure gardens.

Completed in 1994, MI6 showed Farrell, who has died aged 87, in his postmodern pomp, energetically juggling historicist motifs to conjure a flamboyant, flesh-coloured fortress, replete with ziggurats and crenellations, dominating its Thames-side locale. Deyan Sudjic described MI6 as “an epitaph for the architecture of the 80s”, and its styling that which “could be interpreted equally plausibly as a Mayan temple or a piece of clanking art-deco machinery”. Others were less complimentary: “Ceaușescu Towers”, pronounced one critic.

Pair say proposal represents new chapter but Israeli PM threatens to ‘finish the job’ if Hamas officials fail to agree

• Trump’s peace proposal welcomed by world leaders, but some in Gaza remain sceptical

Donald Trump and Benjamin Netanyahu, the Israeli prime minister, have delivered an ultimatum to Hamas, warning the militant group to accept their 20-point peace plan for Gaza or face the consequences.

The two leaders met at the White House in Washington on Monday then held a joint press briefing in which they hailed their proposal as a historic breakthrough and new chapter for the Middle East.

In a combative speech, the prime minister will pledge to raise living standards and ‘face down’ threats of a volatile world

Keir Starmer will attempt to brush aside critics of his economic strategy by insisting it can be the “antidote to division” being sown by the populist right.

Under pressure to be more radical, the prime minister will tell the Labour party on Tuesday that economic growth “can either build a nation or it can it pull it apart” depending on who and which parts of the country might benefit.

Gas derived from farm waste can meet only 18% of current gas demand by 2050, despite claims of fossil fuel lobbyists, study finds

Gas derived from farm waste will never be an alternative to the widespread adoption of heat pumps, research shows, despite the claims of fossil fuel lobbyists.

Biomethane, which comes mainly from “digesting” manure, sewage and other organic waste, has been touted as a low-carbon substitute for fossil fuel gas, for use in home heating. Proponents say it would be less disruptive than ripping out the UK’s current gas infrastructure and installing heat pumps.

Inquiry hears of children exposed to pornography and suffering ‘grievous’ harm without protection of schools

The Covid pandemic disrupted the “very fabric of childhood”, the UK inquiry has heard, on the first day of a four-week session devoted to its impact on children and young people.

Clair Dobbin KC, counsel to the inquiry, said in her opening submission on Monday that some of the evidence drawn from the 18,000 stories and 400 targeted interviews would be “hard to listen to”.