Into the relentless sunny wind, Chas ran towards the distant airplane as it lifted off the tarmac. “DET! DET!” he shouted, pointing, and Ford translated it for me: JET, JET! HE reached the end of the berm and stopped still, apprehensive, as the jet loomed closer. But the roaring became intense, and Chas turned round and trotted back to me, quietly frowning to the ground, pink cheeks bouncing. I scooped him up and together we tracked the gleaming silver jet as it thundered over us.

Ford is into jet turbine engines. He likes to describe their operation, and tell stories involving turbines. He will pick up a gall off the curb and tell me, “Mom, do you know why this gall is so fast? It’s because it’s a jet TURBINE-powered gall that shoots through the sky and into your eyeball!” or “I’m so fast because I have two jet turbine engines, spinning like huge atoms, on my sides.” He has been into jet turbines for while, but I can’t remember what set it off, this fiery interest. These days, he’s all about atoms, particles, molecules, jet turbines, and electromagnetic forces. I’m not cut out for this.