Me: What’s the matter with my Big Brave Beautiful Boy? Has his ball rolled under the chest of drawers again?
Nell: He had a light breakfast.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: No bacon. Just toast and scrambled eggs.
Me: Sounds lovely to me.
Nell: Well, that’s not something I see every day.
Me: What? Scrambled eggs?
Nell: No. A whippet in wellington boots.
Me: The grass is a bit damp in the mornings so it’s probably wise.
Nell: Whippets don’t like wellingtons.
Me: Why?
Nell: They have delicate feet. They prefer a more fitted boot.
Me: Maybe it’s wearing two pairs of socks.
Nell: Possibly. It’s carrying a cake tin.
Me: Is it coming here?
Nell: No. It’s going towards the Big House. The Cat is probably having one of its Bridge mornings.
Me: I’m surprised you aren’t going. You enjoy a game of Bridge.
Nell: Yes. My Bridge partner Dorothy is an excellent player but unfortunately she is away visiting family.
Me: Is that Dorothy the Salcombe Setter?
Nell: Yes. Beautiful red hair.
Me: You could always take Dave with you.
Nell: David doesn’t play Bridge. He finds it hard to concentrate without eating.
Me: Kev likes card games.
Nell: He’s a cribbage man. You know that.
Me: Well, Poppy then?
Nell: Poppy only plays for money. Usually poker. But since we lost Mutley she hasn’t really bothered. If I was taking anyone, it would be Harriet.
Me: I used to play a long time ago when I lived in Africa.
Nell: Exactly.
Me: What does that mean?
Nell: It’s been over 20 years since you last played.
Me: Gosh. That’s actually rather shocking.
Nell: I know.
Me: I’m getting old, Nell.
Nell: Here we go.
Me: Time is passing me by.
Nell: Have you quite finished?
Me: Yes. Sorry.
