Mika is giggling. It is a nice sound, not pretty, but sincere and donkey-ish. You're going to think I'm such a weirdo,' he says in his ungainly cosmopolitan voice, half-Lebanese, half-estuarine. But I collect smells. If I really like the smell of something – a piece of tar o my goddaughter's plastic doll – I put a tiny piece in a bottle with a label. I keep them in a fridge in my bathroom…' He breaks off, mauling his face with his long hands in embarrassment. I'm making it sound like a weird laboratory o abattoir o something, but it's not. It's my biblioteca of smells and it's better...