There's a story of a memory - one of my father's, from when I was an infant. He carried me through a department store, where the perfume sales assistants would hand out sprays of perfume on cards. Between my father's looks and my angelic appearance* we collected quite a few cards, and I kept them all in my father's shirt pocket, where I could smell and play with them as he walked.

Perfumes in close quarters are rarely friends. One of the reasons I don't often wear it is I hate smelling the clash between mine and another woman's. I can only imagine what my father smelled like as we continued through the store. But in the battle of scents in my father's shirt pocket, one perfume in particular won out: Lou Lou.  Everything smelled of Lou Lou.

My father then packed the shirt - I think. I'm not clear on Step 2, here. But Step 3 was him ending up on a business trip with an entire suitcase of clothes that reeked of Lou Lou. Pants, shirts, socks, jocks, shoes - everything smelled of Lou Lou.

Today, neither he nor my mother can smell that smell (or, generally, discuss perfumes) without a smiling-groan at the memory of Lou Lou. And yet, I couldn't smell it out of a lineup. A suitcase of perfumed shirts clearly didn't impact on my toddler brain. I've often wanted to smell it, to be able to associate the smell with the story like my parents can, but I've never found it - surprise surprise, it's a perfume my mother will now never wear. That one encounter with the scent has used up their tolerance of it for a lifetime.

But I think of it a little every time I smell perfume. I have a scent-memory that's missing a scent.

Again, a story without much of an exercise, so: jot down your strongest scent-memory. What's a smell that instantly transports you somewhere? Now, write a scent memory for that smell for someone else. What does it mean to them, where do they go? To avoid copying your own too much, emotionally invert it. If yours is a happy memory, make theirs a fearful or sad one, and vice versa.

*All a lie, I was a stroppy terror.