that was the colour he wanted for his room, his home, himself. Being transparent was the worst a bloke could be. A bloke has to be mysterious, give the lasses some work to do. Transparent meant you were predictable and boring. Then again his wife said he was secretive, kept stuff to himself, untrustworthy so that’s how he’d ended up in this one room flat, with a gas cooker that didn’t work, dodgy wiring and a microwave on the blink. Perhaps he’d reconsider the redecorating colour.