Harriet is not herself

Nell: I have to say that Harriet was really rather grumpy at Morning Thoughts.

Me: Monday blues?

Nell: It’s probably the constant noise. David has got his work cut out liaising today.

Me: Where is he?

Nell: He and Harriet are outside on their loungers. She is refusing to talk to him.

Me: Has she sent him to Coventry then?

Nell: No. He is here in Devon. What on earth has Coventry got to do with anything? It’s in the West Midlands.

Me: It’s an old phrase meaning you ignore someone.

Nell: Why didn’t you just say so? You are supposed to have a way with words.

Me: Never mind.

Nell: David needs a new lounger, by the way. He hangs off the end.

Me: He has to stop growing soon.

Nell: I must say Harriet seems really out of sorts. She didn’t even want a share of David’s bacon sandwich and she left her porridge.

Me: Gosh. Refusing bacon. Whatever next?

Nell: Exactly. Who does that? Personally, I think it’s linked to her visits to the Big House.

Me: Do you think someone is giving her bacon over there?

Nell: It’s not about the bacon. Honestly, I despair of you sometimes.

Me: This is going to sound silly, Nell, but maybe we need to get someone to spy on Harriet.

Nell: You have a point and I know exactly who to ask.

Me: I’m definitely up for it. I can wear my all encasing hat if you like.

Nell: Not you. The Cat. It lives at the Big House and it can get anywhere. It’s clever and surprisingly discreet for a flamboyant sequin wearing extrovert.

Me: I can be discreet.

Nell: We both know that isn’t true. The last thing anyone needs is you creeping around the Big House in a winter hat. Good grief.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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