Down a cobbled mews off one of London's rare tranquil backstreets, people come to talk, gaze at the garden, have a nice cup of tea and a biscuit, then leave with a small blue bottle of perfume. Captured inside it is scented memory of happy times. What could be the harm in that? London is a big city, but paths cross, and get all tangled up. A small misunderstanding leads to a seriously large one. This is the novel that accidentally launched a London perfumery, 4160Tuesdays.