Felix came into the room at the same time as the music switched from Jacques Brel to an obscure eighties disco beat. He turned his nose up and the eyes showed disapproval behind round spectacles. His father cut the music, passed me a generous glass of brandy, and slumped down on the sofa. Our conversation would have to wait for another time. Felix sat in the leather armchair by the fireplace and opened the book that he’d been carrying. It was Hilaire Belloc’s The Path to Rome, published in 1902, and further deepened the mystery of this young man. There was an uncomfortable silence, and the crackle of flames intensified the moment. Felix had purposely interrupted. I studied his face in the half light and watched this strangely handsome boy frowning and mouthing words of the sentence that he was making a pretence of reading. Aware that we were staring, he sighed and closed the book. “Did you know that I am being groomed by algorithms? Spotify has created a playlist for me called 30s Vintage Hollywood Wednesday Late Night.”