53
The wheels were suddenly in motion and, after a few sharp turns, they were off the ground.
After about fifteen minutes, Tom caught a familiar scent coming from somewhere on the plane. He sniffed the air, and his mind went in search of an elusive memory, which he could see at the very edge of his mind, as if he were squinting at a small figure on the horizon. The smell was floury, sweet, and though Tom was sated his mouth began to water.
“What is that smell, Paul?” he asked.
“Scones.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes, it’s breakfast time for the crew. They have jam and scones when they’ve been away from home.”
“It reminds me of my grandmother.”
“Mine too.”
Tom’s grandparents had been good to him in what way they could and their tradition of scones on a Sunday and having a proper afternoon tea
