It's fine. Sorry.

Cheadle's pretty decent, which is no use to us. Hardly anyone fly-tips, the kitchens are mostly clean and it's still got more than three times the typical town's banks per head, even after Lloyds left. The moans are all lorries, squeezing down streets that were built for carts.

Then it gets dark and the place dies. The last bus pulls out at 7.43pm, so a night out in Cheadle means being home for tea. The railway went years ago, it's wet on 152 days a year, and once the shops shut the only lights on are the bookies.

The editor, who parked at the supermarket