THREE FLIGHTS UP, LILY’S apartment is a small, neat haven in an otherwise rundown and shabby building.
As we enter, another girl, in pyjamas and housecoat, sits on a threadbare but immaculate armchair. Glancing up, she spoons cereal from a bowl, to the intense interest of a cat perched by her, purring like a buzzsaw. “Bit early for visitors isn’t it, Marty?”
Michael switches on a bright smile. “Sorry to disturb you so early, but it’s important we talk to Marty here.”
Marty gestures to the girl. “My flatmate, Lindsey.” Then, to me... “Michael, Charlotte and... I’m sorry?”
“James.” He steps forward, offering his hand. “James Alexanders.”
Lindsey makes to rise. “If you need to talk, I’ll eat in my room.”
But Michael interrupts her. “No, you should stay too. It may affect you as well.”
