Arthur Nkemdi's flat smelled of coffee and old paper and had four hundred books in it, and the walls were covered in photographs of children who had grown up and gone.
He put James at the kitchen table and made him a coffee he did not ask for, and then sat down opposite with a pad and a biro, and pushed them across.
One quick thing
Before you start reading
We keep an anonymous record of which chapters people finish, so we know which books to write more of. It is never sold and never linked to your name.
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