Me: It’s awfully stormy today, isn’t it?
Nell: Yes, Knitwear Wolf just told Princess he can’t take her down to the sea as the waves are going to be 10m high.
Me: Gosh.
Nell: She’s not happy. A Beefy threw a mackerel at her and she didn’t even catch it.
Me: Or clap probably.
Nell: Well, that’s a blessing. All that clapping gets on my nerves.
Me: It’s a seal thing. I think it’s sweet.
Nell: You would.
Me: Wait a minute. There’s someone out in the rain.
Nell: Surely the llamas have taken cover. Their pyjamas aren’t warm, or waterproof.
Me: It’s not a llama. It’s Babycakes Gillespie. And he’s eating a wet bagel.
Nell: Anything on it?
Me: No. Just plain.
Nell: Well, that’s ridiculous.
Me: Not everyone likes cream cheese on their bagel.
Nell: No. I mean eating in the rain. The bread goes soggy.
Me: True. He looks ever so dejected. Poor little pug.
Nell: Here we go.
Me: I bet Poppy has come to a decision. She’s given him his marching orders, hasn’t she?
Nell: She might have done. I couldn’t possibly say.
Me: Tell me.
Nell: It’s not my story to tell. Or yours, by the way.
Me: Someone else has arrived.
Nell: Not the Whippets Institute?
Me: No. It’s John the Doberman.
Nell: I see.
Me: He’s walking towards Babycakes.
Nell: Oh dear.
Me: He’s carrying one of his Starbarks coffees and a warm coat.
Nell: I don’t care what John is wearing.
Me: No. They’re for Babycakes. He’s putting the coat on him, Nell, and giving him the coffee.
Nell: John is a gentleman.
Me: I think Babycakes might be crying. Poppy definitely made a decision, didn’t she? Poor Babycakes.
Nell: She did, and it was the right one.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
