If it makes you feel any better, I did go to school and grew up in one place and I was rubbish at making friends. I didn't listen to the right radio shows, I didn't read the right books, I was too nosey, and I always had my brother with me....

[It's happening more and more often. Arthur, without thinking, just casually mentioning Percy in conversation. Funny to think that a year ago he didn't even remember he'd had a brother.

He folds his long legs under him to settle in to chat, as he's not in any hurry. He'd offer to help, but knowing him, he'd do more harm than good.]

I've always been something of an outside looker in.

[The sort of person who was at the edge of things. That bloke at the office that everyone knew on sight but nobody really knew and often whispered about behind their hands. Though he supposes back home, nobody really knew anyone, but even then...he'd always been just a little bit different. A horrible thing in Wellington Wells, but not all that bad, here.

Arthur is well aware what people think of him here. He's strange. He's an odd man. But his strangeness is accepted. He's not persecuted for it, he doesn't have to try and hide it.]

I always had my books though. And a fierce imagination.