Nell: Happy Mother’s Day.
Me: Thank you. You look tired.
Nell: Yes. The clocks going forward always puts me a little out of sorts.
Me: How did it go with the visit to Madame Odile yesterday?
Nell: If I tell you David got into a baguette fight with a Beefy you might have an idea.
Me: Oh no.
Nell: I also found my handbag full of croissant crumbs when he and Gladys got home.
Me: I thought the waiting outside discreetly might not work.
Nell: You were right. Firstly, disguising yourself as a French onion seller with a false moustache and a beret is not the most subtle approach.
Me: No.
Nell: Then, playing the accordion while Gladys dances the can-can to rapturous applause isn’t exactly keeping a low profile.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: And finally, batting a passing Beefy away with a baguette and scoring a six to shouts of “Well done, Sir” is downright attention seeking.
Me: Good old Dave.
Nell: Fortunately Harriet and Sally were inside and missed it all. The French rooks thought it was hilarious, however, and have asked Pierre to come back again soon with little Fifi.
Me: Who are Pierre and Fifi?
Nell: David and Gladys’s stage names.
Me: Did the tea go well?
Nell: Yes, as far as I know, although they haven’t told me the details yet.
Me: Is Dave in trouble?
Nell: Harriet was annoyed but Sally just laughed, said, “Oh, Davey” and ruffled his fur, which he adored of course.
Me: He does love fur ruffling. He closes his eyes. In fact I might go and do that right now.
Nell: Don’t you dare. He is in detention. One boiled egg for breakfast and no bacon.
Me: Sorry.