Geraniums.

I never really liked geraniums. I think it was the smell of them. They always brought back memories of my grandparents flat (my dad's parents) in Lisson Grove in London.

They used to be on the window sills, so if you looked out of the windows, you always leant against them, and they gave off this smell.

Remembering the flats back then, there was no traffic, and you could always hear people walking into the court-yard, so you would look out of the window to be nosy. It was very quiet there in those days.

For some reason, it always reminded me of what it would be like to be in a prison camp during the war, I've no idea why.

I must go back there one day and see if it's the same, I don't suppose it is.

But now I like geraniums, they always seem such a pretty flower.