A NOSE FOR TROUBLE

Ally was at her wits’ end from trying to fathom it – but could Janice help her sniff out the truth?

Let Mum have a sniff about. She said she wanted to call in any way,’ my boyfriend advised when I rang at work.

Luke was stuck in his office that Saturday morning, but apparently his mum Janice was free to help me track down a mysterious odour in my house that was driving me crazy.

‘She’s legendary in my family, Ally,’ he went on. ‘She has a heightened sense of smell – the nose of a bloodhound. I haven’t told you the story about her and my ex yet, have I? Ask her about it later.’

Janice arrived half an hour later. I’d last seen her in the supermarket sniffing a grapefruit.

I’d had no idea then about her miraculous hooter. A thin woman in her 60s with sharp, blue eyes and brown, wavy hair, she started by surveying my 13-year-old son’s bedroom.

‘I did warn Toby I’d tidy up when he went to his mate’s,’ I explained. I’d cleared out most of the detritus earlier – mugs growing mould, plates hosting alien organisms, socks lurking in the darkness under his bed. ‘I opened all the windows, but there’s still a…pong.’

Janice’s nostrils flared. ‘How would you describe it?’ she asked me. ‘Prawns with a hint of plasticine?’

She rubbed at her tiny nose. I peered at it, wondering what spectacular feats such a little thing could do.