Chapter 12: Aiden

The studio apartment is tiny, with barely enough room to turn around. It's not filthy, but it's not been painted in several years from the looks of it. The bed is a futon that doubles as a lounger in the daytime. There's an under-the-counter refrigerator with a microwave and electric kettle on top, a two-ring gas hob on top of a small oven that doubles as a grill, and a tiny sink over a cupboard. There's a coffee table, but it's wedged against the wall at the end of the futon. The corner of the room has been boxed off, with a door. When I open the door I find a toilet, a shower and a narrow floor-to-ceiling cupboard. That's already more cupboard space than I have stuff to fill it with. The ceiling slopes, and the single window is set into it. Through the clouded, algae-edged glass I can see a pale sky crisscrossed with aircraft con trails.

Mr Shouty, who is indeed the Mr Patel I was hopi