Me: It’s hard to believe Harriet is an international spy, isn’t it? Look at her sweet innocent face.

Nell: International?

Me: She’s been to France.

Nell: Have you ever been to Italy?

Me: Yes. Lots of times. I love it there. Why?

Nell: Someone mentioned Sicily. Have you ever been there?

Me: No. Did that someone have a mane, by any chance?

Nell: I haven’t talked to any horses recently.

Me: A lion’s mane.

Nell: I haven’t seen Mrs King, or Roary either.

Me: I’m talking about Lionel King.

Nell: It wasn’t Lionel.

Me: But you went for a drink with him.

Nell: I did.

Me: Who was it then? Stanley?

Nell: Yes. Stanley was telling me how Italian food varies depending on the region.

Me: I see.

Nell: He’s thinking of making us some Arancini.

Me: Rice balls? Kev loves those.

Nell: Good.

Me: Where did he tell you all this?

Nell: At the pub. He was there with Lionel.

Me: And Sponge Finger?

Nell: The rook isn’t Savoiardi. He’s just a friend.

Me: But he was there?

Nell: Yes, he’s thinking of starting an Italian conversation class.

Me: Is he now?

Nell: Yes. There’s a French conversation class at the pub twice a week already.

Me: Is there now?

Nell: Stop saying ‘now’ like that with your head on one side.

Me: Does Knitwear Wolf know?

Nell: Know what?

Me: That you’re learning Italian from the Mafia?

Nell: They’re not the Mafia. They’re just friends.

Me: Does he know?

Nell: Rupert knows I joined them for a drink.

Me: Was he happy about it?

Nell: I wouldn’t say he was happy exactly.

Me: I bet.

Nell: He’s fine.

Me: Where is he then? He’s usually here by now.

Nell: He’s probably just delayed.

Me: Or not coming. Sorry.

Nell: You need to talk to David.

Me: Why? Is something wrong?

Nell: He won’t get out of bed.

Me: Not even for food?

Nell: Don’t be silly. He’s a Labrador. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for food.

Me: So he’s had breakfast?

Nell: Yes, but only his own.

Me: No Eating by Mistake?

Nell: No. He just ate his boiled eggs and went back to bed.

Me: No soldiers?

Nell: Of course there were soldiers. You can’t have a dippy egg without soldiers.

Me: Well, that’s a relief.

Nell: But he only had two rounds of bread lightly buttered.

Me: Lightly?

Nell: Quite. It worried me, too.

Me: Did he drink his tea?

Nell: Yes, but without his usual gusto. You know how he loves to slurp.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: No slurping today. Just gentle sips.

Me: I didn’t even know Dave could sip.

Nell: Nobody did. There’s definitely something wrong.

Me: He’s probably missing Sally. They had such a lovely weekend together.

Nell: Long distance romances are very hard.

Me: You wouldn’t know. All your suitors are dancing around you.

Nell: All my suitors?

Me: Knitwear Wolf, that wretched lion and probably Stanley.

Nell: Stanley isn’t a suitor.

Me: I notice you didn’t disagree with me about Lionel King.

Nell: One can’t help having a crush.

Me: One jolly well can. You’re going to lose Knitwear Wolf if you carry on like this.

Nell: Rupert understands.

Me: Does he know you’re meeting Lionel at the pub?

Nell: Only for a small sherry.

Me: It doesn’t matter what you’re drinking. Does Rupert know?

Nell: My friend Dorothy tried a craft beer recently. She said it was dreadful.

Me: Stop avoiding the question.

Nell: I’m going to tell Rupert.

Me: You’d better, or I will. Sorry.

Nell: There are too many Labradors in this house.

Me: I know you’re talking about Nigel. He’s going home today.

Nell: There’s such a thing as outstaying your welcome.

Me: Don’t be mean, Nell. You know Nigel’s suffering from unrequited love for Sally.

Nell: Well, she’s gone back to London now so he and David can mope around together.

Me: Why are you all in the living room, by the way?

Nell: We’re monitoring Mike.

Me: Mike the Polar Bear?

Nell: Do you know any other Mikes?

Me: I do, actually.

Nell: I meant around here?

Me: Why are you monitoring him?

Nell: To see if he’s listening, of course. Do keep up.

Me: How can you see if someone is listening?

Nell: I shall ignore that. We think he’s in league with the Stuffed Tiger.

Me: That’s nonsense.

Nell: You’ve got a blind spot when it comes to that tiger. It gets away with anything. Secretive, nosey animal.

Me: It’s stuffed.

Nell: Nigel hates it.

Me: Kev told me a funny thing. He and Nigel were walking past the pub and Nigel went crazy when he saw the two lions outside.

Nell: Was one of them Lionel King?

Me: No. The stone lions. Why did you think it was Lionel? Does he have a lion friend?

Nell: I don’t know who Lionel’s friends are but there are probably a few lions in the mix and they might go to the pub now and again.

Me: You know something.

Nell: I do not.

Me: Has Lionel King been in touch with you again?

Nell: It’s none of your business.

Me: Has he invited you to the pub?

Nell: He might have done.

Me: You’re the one with the blind spot, Nell.

Nell: I am not.

Me: Lionel is trouble. Sorry.

Me: It’s ever so cold and misty outside.

Nell: I know. Sunday Songs is definitely going to be held in the Village Hall today.

Me: Good, because I don’t think we’d be able to see each other if we were outside.

Nell: Talking of seeing, have you noticed Nigel?

Me: Noticed him?

Nell: Yes. Gazing at Sally.

Me: Gazing at Sally?

Nell: You’re doing that repeating thing again. You know how much it annoys me.

Me: Sally’s a pretty animal. Everyone gazes at her.

Nell: Not like Nigel.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: I’m afraid there might be a little Unrequited Love going on.

Me: But Nigel knows Sally is with Dave.

Nell: You can’t help your feelings.

Me: You think Nigel has a crush on Sally?

Nell: I do.

Me: Has Dave noticed?

Nell: Of course not. David only has eyes for Sally and bacon.

Me: What about Sally? Do you think she’s noticed?

Nell: Definitely. And so has Harriet. Noticing Things is what spies do.

Me: Poor Nigel. A crush is an awful thing.

Nell: It is.

Me: It’s not Nigel’s fault.

Nell: Nobody said it was. Lionel’s had a crush on me for years and there’s nothing to be done about it.

Me: Don’t bring that dreadful Mafia Lion into this.

Nell: Mafia Lion?

Me: Speaking Italian and sending flowers.

Nell: You should listen to yourself. Did you talk to Sally?

Me: I did. She says I’m not to worry and she’s on the case.

Nell: There you are then. Let’s leave it to her.

Me: You don’t think Mike’s joined the Mafia, do you?

Nell: Mike the Polar Bear?

Me: Someone suggested he might have a recording device on his head.

Nell: Well, it couldn’t be anywhere else on him, could it?

Me: No. Sorry.

Me: Happy Valentine’s Day Nell.

Nell: Thank you and the same to you.

Me: Dave is over the moon to have Sally visiting us, isn’t he?

Nell: I understand the red rose but the serenading is becoming rather tedious.

Me: He’s only sung a few songs. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: With a backing band and cartwheeling llamas?

Me: They caused quite a commotion at the Bus Stop.

Nell: The bus had to wait.

Me: Sally and the villagers loved it.

Nell: She loves everything Davey does.

Me: Stop being such a curmudgeon, Nell. They’re in love and it’s Valentine’s Day. Did you get anything for Rupert?

Nell: Driving gloves, if you must know. His paws get cold in winter when he’s on his motorbike.

Me: I saw your flowers and card.

Nell: Which ones?

Me: I beg your pardon. Did you have more than one card?

Nell: I had three, to be exact, and a dozen red roses, a bouquet of wild flowers and a bowl of spaghetti bolognese.

Me: I’m guessing Rupert gave you the wild flowers.

Nell: Correct.

Me: Loving, but not ostentatious. What about the red roses?

Nell: You won’t like it.

Me: It was that wretched lion, wasn’t it?

Nell: Lionel can’t help his feelings.

Me: I can’t believe you would accept roses from that animal.

Nell: He means well.

Me: What did the spaghetti bolognese say?

Nell: It was a very large bowl so I think it was probably for everyone.

Me: I mean the card?

Nell: It said ‘Benvenuto in famiglia’.

Me: Welcome to the family.

Nell: Your Italian is getting better.

Me: Don’t you see what that means?

Nell: No.

Me: It’s what the Mafia say. They call themselves The Family.

Nell: It was just a card. Calm down.

Me: Sorry.

Me: What’s the matter with Dave and Harriet? They look like they’ve seen a ghost.

Nell: They’re looking at the head.

Me: The head?

Nell: Yes.

Me: In your bed? Is it a horse’s head? I knew this would happen.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: It’s what they do to frighten people.

Nell: Who?

Me: The Mafia.

Nell: Who mentioned the Mafia?

Me: You’re right. Probably best not to mention them.

Nell: I’m talking about the Polar Bear.

Me: They put a polar bear in your bed?

Nell: No. It’s on the wall.

Me: On the wall?

Nell: Yes, in the living room.

Me: Why didn’t you tell me that before?

Nell: I tried.

Me: That’s just Mike.

Nell: Mike?

Me: Mike the Polar Bear. Alice gave him to me for Christmas and Kev must have finally got around to putting him up.

Nell: Don’t you think someone should have told us?

Me: He’s been in the kitchen on the shelf next to the recipe books. I’m surprised you didn’t notice him before.

Nell: I didn’t.

Me: He’s from Dartmouth, so he’s a local bear.

Nell: Stanley was looking at our recipe books.

Me: Was he?

Nell: Maybe he asked Kev to move Mike?

Me: I was right.

Nell: About what?

Me: It’s a classic Mafia move. Very clever.

Nell: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

Me: This time it’s a polar bear on the wall but next time it could be a horse’s head in your bed.

Nell: I worry about you sometimes. I really do.

Me: We need to stay alert.

Nell: You’ll be pleased to hear Sally is on her way down here from London.

Me: Did Harriet tell her my theory?

Nell: I think it’s best you do that yourself.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: What did you just say?

Me: I said Stanley is going to cook an Italian meal for us once a week.

Nell: Once a week?

Me: Yes. It will give the Hoffmanns a well-deserved evening off.

Nell: We’re not going to manage on one small bowl of spaghetti bolognese once a week.

Me: You’ll get at least one bowl each and it won’t always be spaghetti bolognese. Stanley can cook all kinds of different meals.

Nell: This is dreadful news. How am I going to break it to the Spaghetti Bolognese Club?

Me: Do you mean Dave? He’ll understand.

Nell: Nigel isn’t going to take this well either.

Me: Nigel is only here at weekends.

Nell: Exactly. What if he misses Italian night?

Me: He can join in the next time.

Nell: You’re doing this because Stanley is a friend of Lionel’s, aren’t you?

Me: Of course not.

Nell: It’s not his fault Stephen Seagull is his big brother.

Me: I never said it was.

Nell: Or Savoiardi is his godfather.

Me: Godfather? Sponge Finger is Stanley’s godfather?

Nell: Somebody said he might be.

Me: Did they say His godfather or The Godfather?

Nell: I don’t remember. What’s the difference?

Me: Ever heard of the Mafia?

Nell: Here we go.

Me: It’s all making sense now.

Nell: Is it?

Me: I was thinking NOIR but I should have been thinking Mafia.

Nell: I don’t think you should be thinking at all.

Me: Sponge Finger has spread his wings

Nell: Of course he’s spread his wings. He’s a rook.

Me: NOIR wasn’t enough for him.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Maybe Stanley should cook more than once a week?

Nell: Yes.

Me: Keep your friends close but your enemies closer.

Nell: Stanley’s not an enemy.

Me: I’m afraid he is. Sorry.

Me: What are you doing?

Nell: Listening.

Me: Listening to what?

Nell: Stanley Smoochy and Herr Hoffmann.

Me: Why is Stanley here?

Nell: Lionel brought him over for his interview.

Me: Lionel King?

Nell: Yes. I told you Stanley was staying with him.

Me: I don’t want that lion here.

Nell: He’s just helping Stanley with his interview.

Me: What interview?

Nell: The one with Herr Hoffmann about the job as sous chef.

Me: Lionel isn’t a chef.

Nell: No, but he speaks Italian so he can translate.

Me: Does he?

Nell: Yes, he’s had a close Italian friend for years, if you must know.

Me: It wouldn’t be a rook, would it?

Nell: It would, but don’t start all that NOIR nonsense again.

Me: The Notorious Organisation of International Rooks.

Nell: Yes, I know what it means.

Me: Lionel’s friend Sponge Finger wants to get a foot in our door.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Sponge Finger, aka Savoiardi, Head of NOIR.

Nell: I know who he is.

Me: Lionel and Sponge Finger have been using Stanley to get to us.

Nell: What?

Me: They’ve been tempting us with spaghetti bolognese and other Italian dishes.

Nell: Stanley just enjoys cooking.

Me: That’s what he wants you to think.

Nell: We’re not the only ones eating his food.

Me: We’re the only ones with a spy in the family and the Head of MI5 as our girlfriend.

Nell: Sally is David’s fiancée.

Me: And you’re all Labradors and Labradors are driven by food.

Nell: Sally’s a Golden Retriever and we don’t know the rook is Sponge Finger.

Me: Of course he is. This whole plan has NOIR written all over it.

Nell: Stanley just wants to cook and we love his food.

Me: You’re going to regret this. Sorry.

Me: Look at this sweet photo of the Puppies asleep in Kev’s studio. Kev just sent it to me. Bless them.

Nell: Is that real?

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: There’s a lot of Artificial Nonsense around at the moment.

Me: You mean AI. Artificial Intelligence. Although an ai is actually a three-toed sloth.

Nell: Why bring sloths into this? I’m talking about David and Harriet.

Me: You know they’re real. You saw them at breakfast.

Nell: But look at Harriet.

Me: She’s sleeping.

Nell: She’s bigger than David.

Me: Of course she isn’t.

Nell: Look at her long legs and body. She’s absolutely huge,

Me: It’s the angle. She’s in the foreground so she seems bigger.

Nell: Are you sure?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Go and check.

Me: No.

Nell: What if there’s a Giant Harriet upstairs and a tiny David?

Me: There isn’t. I promise you. They’ll both come downstairs soon and you’ll see for yourself.

Nell: I’m very worried. Shout ‘Bacon!’.

Me: Why would I do that?

Nell: Because they’ll run downstairs.

Me: But we haven’t got any bacon, it’s Tuesday.

Nell: Shout ‘Biscuits!’ then.

Me: You’re overreacting.

Nell: Just do it.

Me: You’re making me nervous now.

Nell: See.

Me: I’m half expecting a Giant Harriet even though I know it’s nonsense.

Nell: Just call them.

Me: It can’t be the pizza. We all ate it and you and I are the same.

Nell: So was Harriet when she went upstairs a few minutes ago.

Me: Did you say minutes?

Nell: Yes. We didn’t finish breakfast until late because David ate the eggs by mistake and we needed new ones.

Me: So, you think Ordinary Harriet went upstairs and a few minutes later she turned into Giant Harriet?

Nell: Harriet is not Ordinary.

Me: No. Sorry.

Nell: I need you to keep an open mind.

Me: I can do that.

Nell: I was talking to Lionel yesterday and he had a really good idea.

Me: Lionel King?

Nell: Yes.

Me: You were talking to that dreadful lion?

Nell: Yes. He was at Sunday Songs and wanted to say how much he enjoyed my duet with Nigel.

Me: It was good.

Nell: Thank you.

Me: ‘That’s Amore’ is one of my favourites.

Nell: Mine too.

Me: Well, nice chat but I’d better get on.

Nell: Hold on a minute, I haven’t even told you about Lionel’s idea yet.

Me: Oh, is there more?

Nell: Lionel thinks we should hire an Italian sous chef.

Me: What?

Nell: A chef to help Herr Hoffmann with the Italian food.

Me: Herr Hoffmann doesn’t need any help.

Nell: But it’s not the same.

Me: It’s fine.

Nell: And that’s not all.

Me: Are we hiring a Chinese chef now? Or an Indian one?

Nell: Don’t be silly. Lionel thinks we should hire Stanley Smoochy.

Me: Stanley Smoochy?

Nell: Yes. Isn’t that a wonderful idea?

Me: But Stanley’s gone.

Nell: No, he hasn’t. Lionel happens to know those pizzas were made by him.

Me: How does he know all this?

Nell: Because Stanley is staying with him.

Me: Really?

Nell: Yes. Apparently he and Stephen Seagull had a falling out so Stanley left.

Me: He didn’t go very far.

Nell: No. Lionel found him at the Bus Stop and took him home. Wasn’t that kind of him?

Me: I don’t trust that lion.

Nell: Stanley was so pleased to be staying in the village he made pizzas for us all.

Me: I knew it was him.

Nell: So, what do you think?

Me: I think that lion is up to something. Sorry.