Childhood smells of Play-Doh and Plasticine. I remember my first Autumn, crunching brown leaves beneath squeaky shiny Wellingtons, watching my breath curl into mist for the first time. I remember the blue fluffy romper suit I wore at night like a cuddling second skin, and storytime at Playgroup in Chiswick stadium on grubby carpets with milk, weak orange squash and Rich Tea biscuits, where the downstairs world of the absent grownups during daytime with unmanned beer pumps, empty leather seats and tobacco-yellowed curtains was only a forbidden few footsteps away. The building still stands, but changed now beyond all recognition.
