Chapter SixFrosty’s was a tiny shop on one of the main streets in the centre of London. It was so small that you could barely fit five tables in front of the shop. There was a serving shutter at the front of the building where several more benches were sat along the pavement.
Luckily for us, one of the benches outside was still available, and Polly hurried over to it as soon as we came into view of the shop. She threw her legs over the bench and slammed her book bag down next to her as though she thought that someone might try to sit there.
“What do you fancy?” I asked Bobby. “My treat.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Bobby protested.
“Think of it as a welcome home treat.” I shrugged.
“In that case, I’ll have a banoffee sundae.” Bobby chuckled when she saw my disgusted expression. Banof
