Nell: Harriet looks happy.

Me: She found an interesting gate.

Nell: It doesn’t look that interesting to me.

Me: The interesting part is there is nothing much on the other side of it, apart from grass.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: It doesn’t really go anywhere.

Nell: I’m confused.

Me: It’s a Gate to Nowhere.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: So, why is it there?

Nell: I have no idea.

Me: Maybe there used to be something behind it?

Nell: Of course there was something behind it. People don’t just go around the countryside putting up gates willy-nilly.

Me: But when did it go from being a Gate to Somewhere to a Gate to Nowhere?

Nell: Good grief.

Me: And why?

Nell: Calm down. It’s just a gate.

Me: It’s a mystery to me.

Nell: And it’s a mystery to me how you’ve survived in the real world for so long.

Me: I think I survive because I can always escape to mine.

Nell: Yours?

Me: My fantasy world.

Nell: True.

Me: My imagination keeps me sane.

Nell: I suppose it does, even though it leads you down some rabbit holes.

Me: I told Harriet to keep an eye on that gate. You never know what might be behind it next time.

Nell: Nothing, I suspect.

Me: We’ll see.

Nell: Anyway, back in the real world is Rupert finally wearing a cardigan?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Seriously?

Me: A beautiful paw-knitted soft brown cardigan to be exact.

Nell: Paw-knitted?

Me: Yes, by Myfanwy.

Nell: Myfanwy the bad corgi?

Me: She’s not bad anymore, Nell. She’s seen the error of her ways.

Nell: My Rupert is wearing a cardigan knitted by a Welsh corgi?

Me: That’s what Welsh corgis do, Nell. Sing and knit. And he’s not your Rupert anymore. Sorry.

Nell: I see David is invading Harriet’s personal space again.

Me: I think it’s adorable the way he rests his head on her. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: You would. David has a very heavy head. I remember it well.

Me: I know. He rests his head on me, too.

Nell: Harriet puts up with a lot from him.

Me: Dave’s always been affectionate but since you left us he’s become even cuddlier.

Nell: I haven’t left you.

Me: You know what I mean. I think he’s afraid we might leave too.

Nell: It’s understandable.

Me: Yes. And if you think about it the Puppies have never not been together.

Nell: True.

Me: I bet Poppy is glad to have you back.

Nell: Glad doesn’t even come close. She’s ecstatic.

Me: Bless her.

Nell: It’s dreadfully tiring.

Me: Stop complaining.

Nell: I’d forgotten just how much energy she has.

Me: She was always a live wire.

Nell: Talking of live wires, how are the llamas?

Me: There hasn’t been a lot of cartwheeling recently.

Nell: Why?

Me: They miss you, Nell.

Nell: Tell them I’m expecting cartwheels at Easter.

Me: I will.

Nell: Has there been any change in Rupert?

Me: No sign of a cardigan yet but I saw him smiling at Myfanwy the other day.

Nell: Myfanwy the bad corgi?

Me: She’s not bad anymore.

Nell: Daughter of Lady Anwen?

Me: I’d forgotten that.

Nell: Rupert has always had a soft spot for that wretched animal.

Me: Myfanwy is fine. She has a lovely singing voice.

Nell: She’s taking advantage of a grieving wolf.

Me: They were only having a chat at the Bus Stop.

Nell: Chatting is just the beginning. The next thing will be riding around in his sidecar.

Me: Myfanwy’s already done that. Sorry.

Nell: It’s good to see David and Harriet enjoying the beach together.

Me: I thought you’d like it.

Nell: You sound brighter today.

Me: I am. I slept much better.

Nell: You know the clocks have gone forward an hour, don’t you?

Me: I’d completely forgotten. So I didn’t sleep as long as I thought I did.

Nell: Poppy owes me a fiver.

Me: A fiver?

Nell: Yes. £5. She said you’d remember about the clocks and I knew you wouldn’t.

Me: Do you have English pounds up there?

Nell: We Guardians can have anything we want but it was actually a figurative bet.

Me: Talking of betting, is Poppy still playing poker?

Nell: Of course. She and Mutley run regular poker sessions at their club.

Me: Club?

Nell: Nightclub to be precise. Poppy’s Palace. Mutley plays the piano. Poppy manages the action.

Me: The action?

Nell: It’s a popular venue. Anyway, are you ready for Sunday Songs?

Me: You mean down here we’re all getting ready to join the Welsh Corgi Choir at the Village Hall and up there you’re going to nightclubs?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous. The club’s not open yet. The clocks haven’t gone that far forward.

Me: Very funny.

Nell: I hope you’re wearing a hat.

Me: I don’t need one today.

Nell: You’ll need one next weekend. It’s Easter and you can’t go to Sunday Songs without a bonnet.

Me: I know.

Nell: Before I forget, Poppy wants Herr Hoffmann to check her Yorkshire pudding recipe. His aren’t fluffy enough.

Me: Poppy should stop issuing orders.

Nell: When pugs fly.

Me: Are you having a Sunday roast?

Nell: Of course. It’s roast chicken today with all the trimmings.

Me: You always loved chicken. It was your favourite treat.

Nell: It still is.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: I see Nigel is sitting in the yellow chair again.

Me: Yes, and looking rather handsome.

Nell: Is he still calling himself Nigel Martin?

Me: Only when he visits us.

Nell: He can’t just call himself whatever he wants.

Me: Nigel can be an honorary Martin. It’s fine.

Nell: Moving on, how’s your weekend going?

Me: It’s only Saturday morning, Nell.

Nell: You look a little peaky, if you ask me.

Me: I had a bad night. I hope I’m not coming down with anything.

Nell: So do I. Take it easy today, please.

Me: I will. The sun is shining which is always a bonus.

Nell: That can be your pocketful of happiness.

Me: Yes. And today is a year since we moved to the village.

Nell: A good decision.

Me: Definitely.

Nell: There’s a lot to be said for village life.

Me: There is, indeed.

Nell: I was telling Poppy and Mutley about it over dinner last night.

Me: What did you eat?

Nell: Steak and chips. Mutley’s favourite.

Me: Fat chips or French fries?

Nell: Don’t call them fat chips, please.

Me: Fish and chip shop chips.

Nell: We don’t have fish and chip shops up here.

Me: Chunky chips?

Nell: Enough. They were supposed to be French fries, if you must know.

Me: I prefer a slimmer chip with my steak.

Nell: Poppy cut them with her sword.

Me: Impressive.

Nell: She got a little carried away. Especially when the other Guardians applauded.

Me: Poppy loves an audience.

Nell: They were all shapes and sizes.

Me: I’m sure Mutley didn’t mind.

Nell: He started playing the piano.

Me: How wonderful.

Nell: It was, actually. Charlie asked me to dance.

Me: And did you?

Nell: Of course. No aches and pains up here.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: I see you went back to our beach again.

Me: There was a brief moment of sunshine and we knew it would be do us good.

Nell: And did it?

Me: Yes and no.

Nell: Why?

Me: I’m still struggling being there without you and so is Dave. He kept stopping and staring out towards the island. I think he imagines you’re there.

Nell: Let him imagine me wherever he wants me to be.

Me: I just don’t want him to think you’re coming home.

Nell: I never left. Not really.

Me: Harriet was in and out of the sea all the time.

Nell: She’s a Merdog.

Me: You used to love chasing your ball into the sea when you were younger.

Nell: I loved walking along the beach with you more.

Me: I miss you so much, Nell. It hurts.

Nell: I know you do. But it will get easier. Trust me.

Me: I hope so.

Nell: So, what are your plans for the weekend?

Me: Charlotte and Nigel are coming to stay.

Nell: Is he going to sleep in my bed again?

Me: Your favourite bed is in the loft, Nell. We couldn’t bear to see it without you and we couldn’t throw it away.

Nell: Understandable. Nigel can sleep in one of my other favourite beds.

Me: Kind of you.

Nell: Are you doing anything special at the weekend?

Me: We’re going to the pub for dinner on Saturday as it will be a year since we moved into the village.

Nell: Well, that’s a lovely idea. It can be your pocketful of happiness.

Me: Yes.

Nell: What about today?

Me: Talking to you. It’s my favourite part of any day.

Nell: You can talk to me anytime. You and me. Always. Remember?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Harriet’s coat is such a beautiful conker brown, isn’t it?

Nell: I wonder if your audience in North America knows what a conker actually is.

Me: Don’t they have horse chestnut trees?

Nell: I don’t think they do.

Me: I’m sure someone will tell me.

Nell: Anyway, to answer your question, yes, Harriet has a lovely glossy earthy brown coat.

Me: Conker-brown, not earthy. Earthy is too flat. Conker is richer with warmer undertones.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Just saying.

Nell: Can we move on?

Me: Of course.

Nell: Any movement on the cardigan front?

Me: Are we talking about Knitwear Wolf?

Nell: Who else?

Me: I was given a nice new cardigan by my sister Charlotte for my birthday.

Nell: I know. I was there.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: Is Rupert wearing a cardigan?

Me: I’m afraid not. He isn’t even wearing a scarf.

Nell: This is most worrying.

Me: I know. The weather’s turned much colder again.

Nell: That’s not what I meant. Have you talked to Sally?

Me: I don’t think she’s very interested in cardigans. I think she has bigger things on her mind.

Nell: I meant about Rupert’s Italian connections.

Me: My phone didn’t suggest he was a Neapolitan Wolf if that’s what’s worrying you.

Nell: I’m talking about Stanley and the rook and the pasta deliveries.

Me: The pasta deliveries are a huge success.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: I think Rupert’s way of dealing with his grief is to keep busy.

Nell: He can keep busy distributing knitwear not pasta.

Me: You don’t think we’re going to have to call him Pasta Wolf now, do you?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Pasta Wolf sounds all wrong.

Nell: Stop right now. There will be no name changes.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: You won’t believe this.

Nell: Try me.

Me: I was saving this photo of Dave on my phone and it told me he was a Neapolitan Mastiff.

Nell: That’s absolutely outrageous.

Me: I know it is.

Nell: David is a pedigree Labrador from Oxfordshire in the United Kingdom.

Me: I know he is.

Nell: He’s Kennel Club registered.

Me: Yes.

Nell: There’s nothing Italian about him.

Me: He loves Spaghetti Bolognese.

Nell: David is the son of my sister Maisie.

Me: And nephew to you.

Nell: There have never been any Neapolitans in our family.

Me: Apart from Poppy.

Nell: Poppy is a Yorkshire Terrier/Maltese cross.

Me: There’s something decidedly Neapolitan about her. Admit it.

Nell: If you mean colourful then I will concede that might be true. She’s wearing a pirate hat today.

Me: Like in this photo?

Nell: Yes.

Me: And brandishing a sword?

Nell: She might be.

Me: My point exactly.

Nell: And Mastiffs are jowly, by the way.

Me: Yes, they are.

Nell: David isn’t jowly.

Me: Only a little bit. Occasionally. In the wrong light.

Nell: How dare you.

Me: He’s still handsome. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: I think your phone needs resetting.

Me: That’s a bit harsh.

Nell: Turning everyone Italian.

Me: Only Dave.

Nell: You haven’t let anyone else use it, have you?

Me: Absolutely not.

Nell: You haven’t left it lying around anywhere? Like a Bus Stop?

Me: Of course not. Do you think someone’s tampered with it?

Nell: Has Siri been answering in Italian?

Me: Not recently.

Nell: He shouldn’t be speaking Italian at all unless asked.

Me: I was joking.

Nell: Well, I’ve had enough of this Neapolitan Nonsense. I’m going for a cup of Earl Grey and I suggest you do the same.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: You went to the Dog and Dash activity field.

Me: Yes, we did.

Nell: With Nigel.

Me: Yes, and without you for the first time.

Nell: Did you sit in my Semicircle of Power?

Me: We did, to remember you.

Nell: Did any of the dogs join you?

Me: No. Not one. They all stayed outside.

Nell: Good animals showing respect.

Me: It doesn’t mean they won’t enter it the next time we go there, Nell.

Nell: It’s my Semicircle.

Me: You can’t carry this on as a Guardian.

Nell: No password, no entry.

Me: You’re incorrigible.

Nell: Was it difficult to be back at the field again?

Me: Yes, it was. You were everywhere.

Nell: It will get easier.

Me: Everyone had a good run.

Nell: Everyone?

Me: Not me, obviously.

Nell: I was going to say you can’t have changed that much since I left.

Me: I’m still doing my aqua class at the gym.

Nell: Good to hear.

Me: Dave ran and ran. The activity field is perfect for him to really stretch his legs.

Nell: That’s why it’s called Dog and Dash.

Me: Of course.

Nell: Is Rupert wearing a cardigan again?

Me: No. He had a leather jacket on the last time I saw him.

Nell: Oh dear. I don’t like the sound of that.

Me: It suits him, but I agree. He’s a cardigan sort of wolf.

Nell: Yes. He’s called Knitwear Wolf for a reason.

Me: I hope he isn’t damaging his brand.

Nell: I don’t think brand awareness is top of his agenda at the moment.

Me: I expected him to go a little wild after losing you but I’ll be very glad when he goes back to being his usual comfortable self.

Nell: If he ever does.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: It’s Chris’s birthday today. How are you feeling?

Me: I’ve been awake early thinking about him. He was born a West Berliner because Berlin was still divided back in 1988. Can you believe it was 38 years ago?

Nell: Time flies. He was 24 when I first met him.

Me: I suppose he was.

Nell: Those are lovely photos of Chris with Marvin, Baby David and Harriet.

Me: They are, aren’t they? Look at the way Marvin is gazing at Chris. Adorable. And Harriet seems smitten too.

Nell: What about David? It’s hard to imagine he was ever that small.

Me: I know. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Now, I realise this is the first family birthday in a long while where I’m not there to celebrate with you all.

Me: Yes, it is.

Nell: And although Chris has rarely been able to actually celebrate it with us I’ve still been a part of it.

Me: You have.

Nell: So, I’ve written him a poem which I need you to share.

Me: I will.

Nell: ‘Listen carefully, Chris,

I have something to say

Apart from the usual

Happy Birthday.

We only saw each other

Now and again, to be fair,

But for nearly 14 years

I’ve always been there.

So I need you to know

That I’m thinking of you,

Just like your mother and Kev

And David and Harriet, too.

Just because someone

Seems to have gone

Doesn’t mean their spirit

Can’t live on.

Have a wonderful time

Surrounded by love

With Shannon and Marvin

And your Guardians above.’

Me: I’m in tears again now.

Nell: I’m feeling a little emotional myself.

Me: I miss you so much, Nell.

Nell: I know but today is all about celebrating Chris. He’s your pocketful of happiness.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: How are you feeling this Sunday morning?

Me: The sun is shining and I’ve just been having a few cuddles with Dave which is always a good start to the day.

Nell: Good. David is an excellent cuddler, if a little over-enthusiastic at times.

Me: Yes. Now he’s monitoring the Bus Stop for Spaghetti Bolognese.

Nell: What about Nigel?

Me: He’s still asleep downstairs. It’s quite early.

Nell: And Harriet?

Me: She’s on the iBone to Sally.

Nell: Why?

Me: I don’t know. Spy business I expect.

Nell: Did you ask Sally about Rupert’s strange behaviour?

Me: Not yet.

Nell: Is he wearing a cardigan today?

Me: I haven’t seen him yet. It’s still early. I’ll probably bump into him at Sunday Songs later.

Nell: There’s no need for physical violence.

Me: Very funny.

Nell: I’m hoping the lack of knitwear was just a temporary hiccup and he’s back to his usual self today.

Me: I wouldn’t count on it, Nell. Losing you has turned our world upside down.

Nell: I trust you’re still having roast beef for lunch?

Me: Yes, and bacon sandwiches for breakfast.

Nell: Good. Poppy says the Yorkshire puddings have been a little flat recently and Herr Hoffmann needs to get the oil hotter.

Me: I don’t think I’m going to pass that on.

Nell: Why?

Me: I’m not sure he’d appreciate the interference.

Nell: Have you seen Lady Anwen recently?

Me: I don’t think I have.

Nell: You must remember. She’s a corgi in a veiled hat.

Me: I know what she looks like.

Nell: And sometimes she’s good and sometimes she’s bad.

Me: Bad Lady Anwen is very bad.

Nell: I know.

Me: Scary bad.

Nell: Alright.

Me: Sharp-toothed bad.

Nell: Stop or you’ll scare yourself.

Me: I think I already have. Sorry.