I'm Virtually Yours. Jennifer Bohnet

together around the old market. Clearly the Robertsons tried to cater for all sections of the market. Not being a boaty person Polly recognised nothing in the window display other than some coiled ropes and a display pile of striped Breton jumpers.

      A motorbike sped past as Polly turned to make her way back for breakfast, its rider wrapped in the obligatory black leather clothing and face-hiding helmet. Someone late for work, Polly thought sympathetically, remembering the days when she’d had to do an early shift at the office.

      The sound of breaking glass and the motorbike roaring away stopped her in her tracks. Seconds later a shrill alarm pierced through the air. Turing she saw that one of the large windows of Robertsons chandlery had been smashed.

      Shocked, Polly hesitated, unsure as to what she should do. As she stood there the fair-haired man she’d seen earlier rushed past her, mobile phone to his ear.

      “Yes, Dad. They’re at it again. This time they’ve gone for the chandlery. Don’t worry. I’m on the case. The police should be here any moment.”