Twenty-nine-year-old Chris Codjoe has lived in New Cross pretty much his entire life. This patch of south-east London has been his home for as long as he can remember and it always will be, at least while it remains feasible. Although, as it stands, no one can tell him how long that’s going to be.
Codjoe lives in the same spacious two-up-two-down maisonette that he and his younger brother were raised in by their parents: a solid monument to a different, sturdier era of London housebuilding. The living room french doors opened out to a balcony with artificial grass, with a front and centre view of the Saturday morning hubbub on the strip below.
