Nell: Do you think it’s too much?

Me: No. You can carry it off.

Nell: I couldn’t believe it when it arrived. So kind of Harry and Meghan.

Me: Yes. Harriet was the one who contacted Harry.

Nell: Bless her. They hit it off at the wedding and have been texting ever since. As I said before, similar names, similar hair.

Me: Did they send it by post? Only I didn’t see Tony.

Nell: By post? A diamond tiara? Honestly, I despair of you sometimes. Jeremy drove it down here. He is staying with James and will drive it back tomorrow.

Me: Do you think all chauffeurs have names beginning with J?

Nell: I’m not even going to answer that. Are you happy with your dress?

Me: It’s very sparkly, Nell, and not my usual colour.

Nell: It brings out the green in your eyes. I’m glad Gladys chose the red. It makes the most of her fur. But does she need the ostrich feather?

Me: It gives her height I suppose.

Nell: It nearly had my eye out when I picked up my handbag. She needs to take it off when she is dancing.

Me: Harriet’s dusky pink suits her, too.

Nell: Yes, no need for extras. Her beauty speaks for itself.

Me: As does yours.

Nell: You are too kind. I wasn’t sure about silver, but if Shirley Basset can wear it then so can I.

Me: The boys all look impossibly handsome. Only David could wear a sequinned top hat.

Nell: Yes, and Malcolm’s bow tie is just the thing.

Me: I wonder what Sally will be wearing?

Nell: Sally? Is she coming down from London?

Me: Yes, she’s going to surprise Dave. Didn’t Charlie tell you?

Nell: No. How lovely for David.

Me: I’m sure Charlie would have come too if he could. I don’t expect James Bond could ever plan ahead.

Nell: Charlie is not James Bond. He just works for the Secret Service.

Me: He’s your James Bond though, Nell.

Nell: Sometimes I wonder. Could you ask Malcolm for a soft boiled egg and soldiers? There is nothing like a dippy egg when you need comfort.

Me: Yes. You must gather your strength for this evening.

Nell: Stop looking at me like a lost puppy. I will be fine.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: You know how people moan about November?

Nell: Do they?

Me: Yes. Cold and grey. Winter is approaching. Dark nights.

Nell: Those are all facts.

Me: Yes. But when the light catches the trees at the end of the day it can give them a magical glow.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: As if they’ve been coated with icing sugar, or sprinkled with fairy dust.

Nell: It’s called frost. Fairies have nothing to do with it.

Me: The colours may have faded but they are still there if you look for them.

Nell: Well, I don’t have time to look for them. It’s the Flamingo Ball tomorrow and I need a new outfit.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Gladys, Harriet and I are going into town. Harriet wanted to look at Yap but I’m not sure they have evening wear.

Me: I don’t know if they do.

Nell: TK Barks usually have something, it’s the finding it that’s the nuisance. Maybe we should take David and The Cat.

Me: What are they wearing to the Ball?

Nell: Tuxedos with sequinned details. Mutley insisted on his usual DJ but agreed to a hat.

Me: And Poppy.

Nell: Poppy is also wearing a tuxedo. She can carry it off.

Me: Is she taking her sword?

Nell: Of course. She never travels without it. Especially as we are expecting the Beefies to be there.

Me: Are Count Bingo and the Flamingos performing?

Nell: Yes, and so are Gladys and David. Mutley has agreed to play a few numbers and they will dance.

Me: Street?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous. They are thinking jazz with a touch of contemporary.

Me: How exciting. I wish I could see it.

Nell: You can. Didn’t I tell you? Malcolm secured an invitation for both you and Kev.

Me: I haven’t got anything to wear.

Nell: Stop going on about fairy dust then and get your coat. Everyone is waiting in the car.

Me: Ok. Sorry.

Me: Can I ask you a question?

Nell: Of course.

Me: Why are you getting me up so early?

Nell: It’s not good for you to lounge around.

Me: I wasn’t lounging around, I was sleeping until you started moaning.

Nell: It wasn’t moaning. It was my gentle morning call.

Me: It sounded like a bear with a sore throat.

Nell: Would you prefer me to bark in your ear?

Me: No. I would prefer to sleep.

Nell: It’s not happening. There is far too much to be done.

Me: Why?

Nell: November is a tricky month. You think you have time and then suddenly Christmas is upon you.

Me: Can I just point out that after you have had breakfast and wandered around outside you all go back to sleep.

Nell: Of course we do.

Me: But what about me?

Nell: You get yourself a cup of tea and start writing.

Me: Yes. It is my writing time.

Nell: And as the sun comes up, you look around the room at us all sleeping and you feel truly contented.

Me: I suppose I do.

Nell: We are a team. You know that. Now drink your tea and carry on writing.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Did you see the mess David made of his morning carrot?

Me: Yes. He tidies it up later, though.

Nell: We have the Flamingo Ball coming up. Imagine if they serve carrots.

Me: I don’t think it’s that likely.

Nell: At least the twins are good at keeping their bowls clean.

Me: And everyone else’s.

Nell: A tidy bowl is a tidy mind.

Me: Yes, but sometimes I wish you three wouldn’t hover.

Nell: Hover?

Me: Yes. You gobble your food down and then you hover over Poppy and Mutley.

Nell: Gobble? Labradors take their food seriously. When we eat, we do so. With gusto. None of that annoying terrier “pausing to look around before continuing” attitude.

Me: It can be annoying but it’s actually healthier.

Nell: Do you know The Cat actually walks away from its food?

Me: I know.

Nell: And it expects it to be there when it gets back and is horrified when it’s gone.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Ridiculous. Everyone knows: “You leave it. You lose it.”

Me: I know that’s the way you see it, Nell.

Nell: It’s the only way. Do you think customers at the cafe are going to order a scone, eat half, go shopping and expect to find it there when they come back?

Me: Of course not.

Nell: I rest my case. Don’t walk away from your food.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Try not to disturb Harriet, please.

Me: Why?

Nell: She is thinking thoughts.

Me: Oh.

Nell: Everyone needs time alone to think.

Me: Except Dave.

Nell: Yes, David doesn’t do a lot of thinking.

Me: Or The Cat.

Nell: Don’t get me started on The Cat.

Me: Or Gladys.

Nell: We don’t know how much Gladys thinks. It’s difficult to tell.

Me: Because she lives in a handbag, or is it too much fluffy hair?

Nell: What do you mean? You can’t measure someone by the length of their hair.

Me: What about Afghans then?

Nell: If you are talking about David’s friend AJ you can stop right now. He is just not of this world. His vegetables are wonderful, though. Have you seen his allotment?

Me: Yes. I wonder sometimes what else he is growing, if you get my drift.

Nell: Why are you tapping your nose like that? Are your sinuses playing up again?

Me: Never mind.

Nell: Anyway, last night’s enactment was a great success.

Me: Was Dominic Simmons okay?

Nell: Yes. We doused him down with water. Some of his sequins had melted. I said to The Cat that he was supposed to be playing Spot, not Sparkle.

Me: Those Welsh corgis can certainly sing.

Nell: I like the fact that they knit at the same time. Such multitaskers. We’ve all got warm socks now.

Me: Lucky you.

Nell: I think they made you a scarf. Myfanwy said so and she should know.

Me: Do I know Myfanwy?

Nell: Of course you do. Everyone raved about her performance in “The Merry Widow”.

Me: Oh. Do you think we could go and get Harriet now? Only I don’t think she should be overthinking.

Nell: That’s rich coming from you. Leave her be. She will come downstairs when she is ready. And when she is ready, we will be there.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I woke up this morning to find Dave staring at me.

Nell: David was checking you were breathing.

Me: Why?

Nell: I would have thought it was obvious.

Me: Not really.

Nell: Fear of abandonment.

Me: Rubbish. He was probably hungry.

Nell: That too, and he’s excited about this evening.

Me: Is that why you are all walking around in feathered hats and long boots?

Nell: Yes. It’s Guy Fawkes night.

“Remember, Remember

The Fifth of November

Wolfhound, Bichon and Spot.

We see no reason

Why Wolfhound and Bichon

Should ever be forgot.”

Me: I don’t think that’s quite right.

Nell: Of course it is.

Me: Who is Spot?

Nell: Spot is a treacherous Dalmatian who plotted to blow up the House of Dogs. Do keep up.

Me: Who were Wolfhound and Bichon?

Nell: Spot’s accomplices.

Me: Why do we have to remember them?

Nell: Because they are an example of how not to behave. A dog is not a sheep. We shouldn’t blindly follow the herd.

Me: So where does Guy Fawkes come into it?

Nell: We often wonder that ourselves. Anyway, there will be hot dogs, burgers and buns for everyone this evening around the fire.

Me: Lovely.

Nell: There will also be a reenactment.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: David is playing Wolfhound. Gladys is Bichon and Dominic Simmons is Spot.

Me: Dominic Simmons is a cat and you don’t like him.

Nell: Exactly. He didn’t want to, of course, but when we explained the burning was just symbolic and Malcolm would make him a fish finger sandwich, he agreed.

Me: He isn’t spotty.

Nell: He will be. Now we have a lot to do. Harriet is the narrator as she needs to rest her leg and she thought you might help her write something.

Me: Of course.

Nell: Not too fanciful please. Stick to the story. I know what you’re like.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Who is that?

Me: Naughty Nigel. He wants to know about Harriet’s accident. How did it happen?

Nell: The wind blew the stable door shut as Harriet was coming in from the garden and it caught her leg.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: Kev called Alex who was out treating a sick horse at the time and he told him to bring her over as soon as he got back.

Me: Did he X ray her?

Nell: Of course he did. He’s a vet. No bones broken. Just bruising. She had an injection and is on painkillers.

Me: My darling girl.

Nell: We cancelled the party, of course, and everyone rallied round.

Me: Good.

Nell: David wrote a healing song and performed it with Gladys. They were waving long silk scarves around. Gladys got dreadfully tangled up at one point and David fell over. Harriet laughed and laughed.

Me: Well done, Dave.

Nell: Poppy cooked steak, medium rare the way she likes it and Malcolm made his signature macarons. Jim brought flowers.

Me: Lovely.

Nell: Kev lit the fire and Mutley read to her before bed. The Wind in the Willows. He does a very good Badger.

Me: He does.

Nell: I was on night duty and David took over this morning.

Me: Did she sleep well?

Nell: Yes. After all the excitement she curled up on the sofa with a soft sequinned blanket from The Cat and David by her side.

Me: I’m relieved.

Nell: Poppy is cooking a full English breakfast and Harriet will have hers on a tray. When are you coming back by the way?

Me: I arrive late afternoon.

Nell: Good. I shall accompany Kev to the station. “Where are you going with that?”

Me: What?

Nell: David just walked past with Gladys in my handbag and a bacon sandwich. He was supposed to be on duty. I’ll have to go.

Me: Looking forward to seeing you all and please give Harriet an extra cuddle from me.

Nell: Don’t think I haven’t noticed that Naughty Nigel is on your bed. We shall discuss it later.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: So you liked the video?

Me: Yes. I loved it.

Nell: After we dropped you at the station, Kev and I went to the Garden Centre and had a delightful lunch.

Me: I’m glad.

Nell: I decided to cool my paws in the river and Kev thought you would like to see it.

Me: It’s beautiful there, isn’t it?

Nell: Now, how was the journey?

Me: It was all fine. I did some writing and it was a beautiful day so I enjoyed the scenery. The train runs all along the sea shore before it goes inland. My sister was waiting for me and it was lovely to see her.

Nell: I’m afraid David was distressed at your departure.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Fortunately Harriet managed to comfort him with some milky tea and one of Poppy’s scones.

Me: Just one?

Nell: That’s what I was told, anyway.

Me: Did Poppy cook you something tasty for dinner?

Nell: Yes. We had cottage pie followed by apple crumble and clotted cream for dessert. Kev lit the fire and we played games all evening. David sang and Mutley played the piano. Harriet got on with her knitting.

Me: Perfect.

Nell: Poppy insisted on a game of poker. I wish we didn’t have to wear those dreadful peaked caps.

Me: Yes, they are uncomfortable.

Nell: Malcolm is a natural. He gives nothing away. Gladys, however, is not cut out for it at all. She kept asking The Cat if an Ace was a good, or bad thing. We had to put her in my handbag.

Me: Oh dear. Nell, do you know that a year ago today we moved down to Devon?

Nell: Of course I know. Why do you think we are having a party this evening?

Me: It’s the best thing we ever did, isn’t it?

Nell: The best thing we ever did is finding each other. So come home safely tomorrow.

Me: You are right. Sorry.

Me: Please look at me, Nell.

Nell: No. You are behaving with reckless abandonment.

Me: I’m just going to visit my sister.

Nell: You are turning your back on medical advice and travelling across the country.

Me: It’s Buckinghamshire, not Scotland.

Nell: And you are not taking me with you.

Me: I’m going by train, Nell. You wouldn’t like it.

Nell: Have I ever been on a train?

Me: No.

Nell: So you don’t actually know then. I rest my case.

Me: I need you to look after everyone.

Nell: Exactly. It’s always the same. You throw caution to the wind and I am left picking up the pieces.

Me: I booked this ages ago and I miss her and the boys.

Nell: What boys?

Me: Seamus, Boo and Nigel.

Nell: Are you talking about Naughty Nigel the Welsh labrador with soft blonde hair?

Me: I am.

Nell: A close friend of No Good Boyo’s?

Me: Yes.

Nell: And Irish Seamus the terrier with a quick temper and curly ginger hair?

Me: He says he’s a strawberry blonde.

Nell: And handsome boy Boo?

Me: Yes, the labrador with soft black hair.

Nell: I don’t care about his hair.

Me: You mentioned everyone else’s.

Nell: You better finish packing and I will break the news to the twins.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Poppy has made you a picnic to eat on the train. Sandwiches with the crusts cut off, a few scones, a slice of cake and a flask of tea.

Me: How kind.

Nell: I have added a photo of us all. Just in case.

Me: I’ll miss you but it’s only until Sunday.

Nell: It’s a shame you’ll miss the party tomorrow but I will tell you all about it.

Me: What party?

Nell: Count Bingo and the Flamingos are performing. Poppy says there will be steak for everyone. Except Malcolm, of course, he is happy with prawns.

Me: Don’t forget to keep in touch. It’s a long journey so I will be checking my phone.

Nell: Of course I’ll be in touch. I’m in charge of your recovery. I expect regular updates. Just because you behave irresponsibly does not mean I have to do the same.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Now wrap up warmly as it’s cold out there. Give them all my love and don’t worry I have everything under control.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Well, I think you all look wonderful. Thank you for showing me your hats.

Nell: We were supposed to be wearing fruit.

Me: Like Carmen Miranda?

Nell: Carmen Miranda is a curly haired collie from Coventry. What’s she got to do with it?

Me: Never mind. What happened to the fruit?

Nell: David ate it. The Cat was remarkably calm considering and told him to fetch his dressing up box.

Me: Lucky that Dave likes hats.

Nell: Yes. Fortunately the weather held. Count Bingo and his flamingos were a huge hit. Everyone loves a steel drum.

Me: Yes.

Nell: People were dancing the samba in the streets. Quite extraordinary.

Me: Wonderful.

Nell: There was a tense moment when a Beefie tried to get into the cafe disguised as a flamingo.

Me: No?

Nell: As if wearing a pink feather boa was going to convince anyone. I mean the length of its leg was a giveaway, and those mean seagull eyes.

Me: The cheek of it.

Nell: It was after one of Poppy’s scones, of course. Malcolm told it to leave.

Me: Malcolm did?

Nell: Yes. He took off his apron and feathered hat, marched over to the Beefie and said: “You sir, are not a flamingo. Take your beak out of the cream and leave.”

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Everyone clapped. Malcolm bowed and went back to making egg sandwiches.

Me: Did the food go down well?

Nell: Very well. Lessons were learned of course.

Me: In what way?

Nell: Tap dancing needs to be confined. One of the dancing chihuahuas got involved with a bowl of strawberry jam at one point. Fortunately a Dartmouth dachshund was on hand to clean it up.

Me: It sounds like a great success. I wish I could have been there.

Nell: You are always with us you know.

Me: Yes. Sorry.