Nell: This is all most stressful. Thank goodness for WoofsApp. David just sent me this photo.
Me: Nice beret. Where is he?
Nell: David, Gladys and The Cat are in France having Moules Frites on the seafront with Savoiardi and the NOIR bosses.
Me: But Dave doesn’t like mussels.
Nell: He’s just having chips, but that’s not the point. They are a great success. Apparently Gladys is even performing a contemporary dance at the big meeting later.
Me: How did that happen?
Nell: Savoiardi bumped into them on the boat and David told him they fancied a holiday in France and could he show them around.
Me: And he believed him?
Nell: Yes. He thinks David is a bit of a harmless nincompoop.
Me: How rude.
Nell: But useful. They don’t suspect him at all.
Me: Suspect him of what?
Nell: David has become an honorary spy. He is going to wear a wire in his beret. Sally is very proud of her darling Davey.
Me: Is Sally in France then?
Nell: Yes. She went over there immediately.
Me: It’s ever so risky. Dave isn’t trained.
Nell: No, but he is a brave boy. He is having the wire fitted during Gladys’s dance. Sally will be waiting outside.
Me: Will there be enough time?
Nell: Fortunately Gladys packed her feather boa and heels and The Cat plays the violin so they can keep going for a while.
Me: How is The Cat coping with all those birds?
Nell: It’s being nice.
Me: I hate it when it’s nice.
Nell: Yes. That awful false grin and those eyes.
Me: Exactly. You know it’s secretly flexing its claws.
Nell: I am very glad David isn’t doing this alone.
Me: I wish I was there to help.
Nell: I can’t think of anything worse. You are not cut out to be a spy. Unlike David it seems.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
