Chapter SixteenIt is over a year since Felix has visited Michael’s house but his feet still remember the way. He used to come here often, when Michael first moved into the property. After graduating he was surprised to find himself unaccustomed to independence. University was preparation for life, they said, except there were no lectures on living, nothing to tell him how or why he should go on, or hint at where he might end up.
He passes a garden, in which a dog, chained to a post, cries like a hungry gull, then he is standing outside a house. He stares up at the building, with its drawn curtains, its crumbling brick and overgrown garden, a residential reflection of more than just Miserly Road, before lifting the latch on the gate and walking up to the porch. The door is black, in keepin
