"Bags break. Cartons fall apart," he says, as if this is a simple matter of life, but it goes so much deeper than this. Everything breaks, especially fragile human beings and their silly little delicate hearts. They're so easy to break when you know their pressure point.

And everyone has one. "I'm from London, yes," he says warmly, happy to be noticed and happy that his native Irish has faded away nicely enough. "Obviously not now. Can I be blamed if the prices here are a bit more affordable?" He crosses his legs, sliding his laptop half-shut as he begins to delve in on the questions. "You're not from London, though," he assesses. "Can I ask, who do you recognize it from? Is it Doctor Who?"