‘Oh yeah,’ says Jackson. ‘When I told them I was meeting you in Fusciardi’s, Bella said she wanted to come and get an iced coffee.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?!’ I say.

Jackson shrugs. ‘Didn’t think it was important.’

Of course Jackson wouldn’t think it was important. He’s friends with just about everyone in school, from Year Seven to Year Eleven. Even the teachers high five him in the corridor. Jackson wouldn’t understand that for me this is a pretty awkward social situation because, for him, awkward social situations don’t exist; his life is simply one long awesome social situation!

For a moment, I consider bunging Elsa back in her pushchair and running off in the opposite direction, but Bella and Ed are approaching so quickly there’s just no time. Instead I stare at my ice cream until they are standing right in front of us and I have no choice but to look up. Ed’s carrying a load of shopping bags and from the names on the sides I’m guessing they’re Bella’s.

‘Hello,’ Bella says. ‘What are you lot up to?’

‘Eating ice cream,’ says Rose.

‘I can see that.’ Bella’s eyes flick from the sundae glasses spread across the table to Annie’s speckled eyelashes.

Jackson and Ed share a quick, ‘All right,’ then we all fall silent. Elsa wriggles on my lap and makes a grab for the sugar lumps. Annie smiles and shakes her head. This is so embarrassing. Why did I have to share all that stuff about the Cool Cosmos workshop? Moments ago I was talking about how ‘nice’ Ed was and boasting about our fun afternoon, and now here we are, face to face … ignoring each other!

‘Who’s that?’ says Bella, pointing at Elsa.

‘My sister.’

‘Really? You two look totally different.’ She shrugs, and turns towards the cafe. ‘I’m getting a drink. I’ll meet you out here, Woody.’

‘No, I’m coming with you,’ says Ed, then he gives me a lightning-quick wave, says, ‘Bye!’, and follows Bella into the cafe.

‘Well that was weird,’ says Annie.

Jackson looks at me and laughs. ‘I think he’s stalking you, mate. I’d get a restraining order taken out.’

‘Seriously, is he Bella’s slave?’ asks Annie. ‘He’s carrying her bags for her!’

‘He’s just being kind,’ protests Rose, but they don’t get to say another word about Ed King because just then Pongo spots a passing cyclist and goes crazy. If there’s one thing Pongo hates, it’s moving bikes.

‘Shut up, Pongo,’ I say, but he keeps tugging at his lead and barking, desperate to get at those spinning wheels. ‘Sorry,’ I say to the people sitting around us. His bark is so loud that everyone’s staring, even the people inside the cafe … even, I guess, Ed and Bella.

‘He is going mental,’ says Jackson.

I try to grab Pongo’s collar, but he darts out of my reach, and then there’s a clatter of metal against concrete as the chair he’s tied to flips over. ‘Pongo!’ I yell, but he’s already dashing after the cyclist, dragging the metal chair along behind him.