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Daisy ran up the steps, plastic sacks in hand. ‘Where are we from?’ she said, hearing the new fellow’s question. She looked at her three friends, her eyes narrowing. ‘Well, from around…here…and sort of…sideways to this place.’
‘What she means to say,’ picked up Bran hastily, ‘is that we don’t come here…‘here’, often.’ ‘And really,’ he went on, giving her a smirking sort of look, ‘she’s not that good with directions.’
Ferdy smoothed out his vest, tugging down at the hem. He ran his fingers through his curly hair, then looked down at his feet. ‘You know, I saw some of those young folk, the ones dressed Hobbitwise. They were wearing shoes on their feet.’ He looked round at his companions. ‘Think we oughta?’ he asked, wriggling his toes.
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