Me: You wake me at six in the morning, Nell? On Easter Saturday?
Nell: Poppy needs help blowing out the eggs. Harriet and I are exhausted already.
Me: Are you serious?
Nell: Yes. They have to be painted and hung on the tree. It’s traditional.
Me: You got me out of bed to blow out eggs?
Nell: You were having a bad dream anyway.
Me: I was, actually. A pandemic nightmare.
Nell: What do you mean?
Me: I was stuck in a stairway with loads of people. I had to walk past them and I was terrified of touching them. I kept thinking I must wash my hands and I mustn’t breathe.
Nell: Oh dear.
Me: Do you know that wouldn’t have been frightening at all a few weeks ago?
Nell: How our world has changed.
Me: I was so scared.
Nell: Well, good that you’ve got several dozen eggs to blow out then.
Me: Before breakfast?
Nell: Of course. The eggs are breakfast. Poppy is making scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and bacon for David.
Me: Can’t Dave help?
Nell: David is no good at blowing out eggs at all. He blew one all over Malcolm. He’s had to go home for a shower.
Me: What about Gladys and Alejandro?
Nell: They are limbering up for the ‘Glide with Gladys’ Saturday morning show.
Me: Henry and Horst then?
Nell: Henry and Horst? Do you know how long it would take a woodlouse to blow out an egg? They could be here until Christmas.
Me: I suppose so.
Nell: Just go into the kitchen and get started. Malcolm will make you a cup of tea when he gets back.
Me: What are you doing now?
Nell: I’m going for a lie down. It’s 6am on a Saturday.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
