It's the season when you'd want a fire, or would be if it was properly cold

A woman standing near me on the platform at Chancery Lane tube the other morning gave off a scorched odour.

More precisely, as if she had been close to a burning car for a while.

Not just the burnt rubber smell, but also the hot metal, melted synthetic materials, the petrol flared off and the leather and the paint all incinerated.

UNCLEAR DEPTHS