Nell: Quiet! The puppies are having a lie in. It’s Sunday so Morning Thoughts can wait a little.
Me: They look exhausted.
Nell: Yes. Keeping Secrets is so much more tiring than physical exercise.
Me: It’s just a hole in a carpet. Not the end of the world.
Nell: No. It’s about Harriet’s undercover role as Mademoiselle Écarlate. She has been invited to join Madame Odile on a trip to France.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: What are your thoughts on Tour de France, by the way?
Me: I’m not that fussed to be honest. Too many bicycles.
Nell: I mean the French rook. The chef from Brittany. Can we trust him?
Me: He is great fun and a wonderful chef.
Nell: He’s coming to lunch today and bringing dessert. It will be a test.
Me: I’m not sure it’s fair to judge someone on their desserts, Nell.
Nell: Desserts can be surprisingly revealing. Is he a fresh fruit rook, does he favour cheesecake, baked or chilled? Or does sticky toffee pudding float his boat?
Me: I didn’t know he sailed. I’d go for sticky toffee pudding every time.
Nell: No surprises there. I prefer Pavlova. Crisp sweet meringue and tart berries with lashings of cream.
Me: Yes. That’s very you.
Nell: David and Gladys are devils for ice cream. Gladys once jumped into a Knickerbocker Glory. Those hundreds and thousands got everywhere.
Me: Gosh. What about The Cat?
Nell: It doesn’t do puddings. A glass of port and a black coffee is all it wants at the end of a meal and the occasional cheese board, if pushed.
Me: This is exciting. So it all depends on dessert. Is Tour de France an Apple Tarte tatin, or is he, in fact, an Apple spy?
Nell: Do stop.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
