Me: As soon as I saw Sally’s smiling face I knew everything was going to be okay.

Nell: Yes. Sally has that effect on everyone.

Me: Especially Dave. Did you see him when he heard her call ‘Davey, I’m back.’?

Nell: I did. He gave her his last bacon sandwich this morning and he only had two.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. So what’s the plan?

Nell: Sally and David have gone down to the quay for a walk and a chat with John the Doberman at Starbarks.

Me: He and Sally are old friends aren’t they?

Nell: They know each other from his MI5 days. He was a particular friend of Charlie’s.

Me: You must be missing Charlie during this difficult time, Nell.

Nell: Yes, but I consider myself very lucky to be surrounded by family. I know others are not, and will be feeling lonely. We need to look out for each other.

Me: Yes, we do.

Nell: The only way through this, is together.

Me: I do hope Sally makes Poppy see sense.

Nell: If I know Sally, I’m sure she will. She and Poppy are going for a walk this afternoon on the beach.

Me: Good idea.

Nell: David is going to tag along at a distance.

Me: Is he, though, Nell? I mean discretion isn’t exactly one of his skills.

Nell: Harriet is going with him and she’s taking snacks.

Me: Good. What about Babycakes Gillespie?

Nell: He isn’t going. Good grief. The mere idea.

Me: No, I meant is Sally going to meet him?

Nell: Yes. He’s joining us this evening for a fish supper.

Me: Does he like fish?

Nell: I don’t know. But that’s not the point. This is about getting our Poppy back, not menu choices.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: What are the puppies doing outside?

Nell: Waiting.

Me: But Tony’s on holiday.

Nell: They aren’t waiting for Tony. After yesterday’s success David is Brimming with Confidence and has taken matters into his own paws.

Me: Your afternoon tea did go well.

Nell: My reading group said it was the best fun they’d had in years and bacon sandwiches and builders tea should always be on the menu.

Me: How lovely.

Nell: David can be impossibly charming when he wants to be. Flowers for each of the ladies on arrival and a compliment on departure.

Me: I thought you didn’t like Dave being over familiar with guests.

Nell: I object to him sitting on them. A gentle compliment from a handsome hound, however, can make a lady’s day. Apart from Agnes, of course, who doesn’t hold with ‘flowery talk’. I quote.

Me: Was that the troubled looking Weimaraner?

Nell: No, the elderly Pekingese in glasses.

Me: Oh yes. Anyway, what is Dave planning to do?

Nell: Sally is on her way.

Me: That’s wonderful news.

Nell: She is coming to Sort Poppy Out.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Underneath that beautifully elegant Golden Retriever exterior there’s a strong and determined female with nerves of steel.

Me: I suppose there must be, as she’s Head of the Secret Service.

Nell: Sally is going to look into Babycakes Gillespie.

Me: Oh my. He’s in for it now. I’m not sure Poppy is going to be very pleased.

Nell: We have gone beyond pleased. Do you realise she served me burnt toast for breakfast with watery marmalade and no butter?

Me: Shocking.

Nell: We need to get Poppy back and Sally is the dog to make it happen.

Me: Have you ever thought about making your own toast?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Oh dear. That’s an extremely serious face.

Nell: Yes. Things are going to have to change.

Me: You are right. What things?

Nell: Everything. Starting with this kitchen.

Me: Okay.

Nell: David has been put in charge of afternoon tea.

Me: Surely not.

Nell: I fear the worst.

Me: I think he can make quite a good bacon sandwich. Crusts on, of course.

Nell: Exactly. And what about the baking?

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: My reading group are expecting the full works.

Me: They might be disappointed then.

Nell: As I said to Poppy earlier ‘Life is too short for a dense scone.’

Me: Quite. It’s almost better to have no scones at all.

Nell: No scones is not an option.

Me: Why isn’t Poppy doing afternoon tea?

Nell: She is going sky diving with Babycakes Gillespie.

Me: I’m not sure that’s a good idea.

Nell: I completely agree. If you are going to jump out of a plane, don’t do it when my reading group are coming to tea.

Me: Well, that isn’t exactly what I meant but I can see where you’re coming from.

Nell: We had French patisserie when we went to Dorothy’s last week. Tiny little cakes and mini quiches. Exquisite pastry.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Builders tea and a bacon sandwich is simply not going to do.

Me: No. Probably not. What about Malcolm? Can’t he rustle up a quick macaron?

Nell: Malcolm is up to his feathers in Jambolaya.

Me: I beg your pardon?

Nell: Babycakes is hosting an evening of Louisiana delights and Malcolm is catering.

Me: Surely your reading group tea comes first.

Nell: Apparently not. Babycakes is paying ‘top dollar’, I quote, and we need any income we can get in these trying times.

Me: I suppose we do. Sorry.

Nell: This is completely unacceptable.

Me: What’s happened?

Nell: The kitchen is full of large animals waiting impatiently for their cookery class to begin and no sign of Poppy.

Me: She’s up in the studio with Harriet sleeping it off.

Nell: What off?

Me: I think she and Babycakes went out after Gladys’s Lindy Hop class.

Nell: There’s a 10pm curfew.

Me: I’m not sure her afternoon tea with John went that well. She seemed a little out of sorts when she got home.

Nell: Yes. I guessed that when she made an extremely hot curry for dinner. David thought the chillies were green beans and ate one by mistake. Malcolm had to rustle up a sweet lassi to take the edge off.

Me: Is that a breed of dog?

Nell: No, it’s a yoghurt based drink. Do keep up.

Me: Oh, I see. Do we know what John said?

Nell: Yes. He has ended the engagement.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: He said he will always love her but the current situation was intolerable for everyone and he was setting her free.

Me: Gosh. I’m surprised she told you all that.

Nell: She didn’t. My friend Pamela the Pyrenean Mountain Dog was sitting at the next table and heard it all.

Me: Even with social distancing?

Nell: She has keen ears. David is the same. He can hear bacon sizzling from miles away.

Me: That’s very sad.

Nell: Yes. Poppy obviously decided to try and forget about John by having a wild night out with Babycakes Gillespie.

Me: I’m not sure it worked.

Nell: No, and in the meantime we have a kitchen full of large animals.

Me: I saw Gladys go in there wearing lycra so maybe they are Gliding instead.

Nell: Gliding? In our kitchen?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Wasn’t it wonderful to be back on our beach?

Nell: Yes, it was.

Me: There’s nothing like the feel of the wind in your hair and the salty smell of the sea.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: It was a shame we had to keep Dave on the lead but he wasn’t bowed down by it and he strode around like a monarch reclaiming his kingdom.

Nell: We were all glad to be there.

Me: I always love your beach faces.

Nell: I know you do.

Me: Harriet goes a little wild on the beach, doesn’t she?

Nell: Yes, Harriet has a surprisingly wild side for a well behaved animal but it is nothing in comparison with Poppy, of course.

Me: Has she made any decisions yet?

Nell: No. She and John are having tea together at the quay this afternoon.

Me: Well, that’s a good sign. They can talk things through together quietly. Maybe John is the one.

Nell: Except she is going to Gladys’s Lindy Bop class this evening with Babycakes Gillespie.

Me: I didn’t know Gladys was teaching Lindy Bop. I thought she was all about the Latin dances.

Nell: She wanted to try something new and The Cat found her some lovely vintage dresses. But that’s not the point.

Me: No. John isn’t going to be pleased.

Nell: I told her she risks losing both of them but she won’t listen.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: I’m hoping she will come to her senses soon. A shiny bowl doesn’t make your biscuits taste any better.

Me: There’s comfort in an old bowl, isn’t there? Even when it’s chipped.

Nell: John’s not chipped.

Me: No. I was thinking about myself, actually. I’m a bit chipped, to be honest.

Nell: You are just well loved.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Well, that was a rather intense Sunday lunch yesterday.

Nell: Yes. I told Poppy not to invite Babycakes Gillespie but she wouldn’t listen.

Me: Did you see them both reach for the cranberry sauce at the same time? My heart stopped.

Nell: Would you mind calming down for a moment, please? Nothing actually happened.

Me: You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife, though, Nell. John seething away on one side of the table and Babycakes showing off on the other.

Nell: I have to say I missed Mutley. He would have just carried on chatting to them both.

Me: Yes. Mutley was always good in tense situations. Knitwear Wolf did his best, though.

Nell: Yes, Rupert made a brave attempt to discuss bagpipes with John.

Me: Does John like bagpipes?

Nell: Nobody does, but it was worth a try. We were all feeling a little desperate by then.

Me: I’m not sure Gladys should have performed the Highland Fling.

Nell: No, and certainly not on the table. She put her paws in the mashed potato.

Me: Oh dear. Poppy is going to have to make a decision. She can’t string them both along.

Nell: Yes. I agree. I’m afraid there were some serious words spoken at Morning Thoughts.

Me: I noticed Poppy was looking a little fierce outside on the terrace. Harriet was trying to reason with her.

Nell: Poppy is enjoying all the attention but John is not going to put up with this for much longer.

Me: I’ll definitely miss the fresh bagels.

Nell: How can you be thinking of food at a time like this? And anyway, how do we know she is going to choose John? Poppy has a wild streak, so Babycakes Gillespie might be in with a chance.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: It’s Sunday morning. Why are you taking photos?

Me: Because I needed proof.

Nell: Proof of what?

Me: Of you lot taking over my bed. I went downstairs to get some coffee and when I came back, my bed was full of sleeping dogs.

Nell: Of course it was. Sundays are supposed to be slow and gentle days.

Me: What about me?

Nell: Just enjoy your coffee and chill.

Me: It’s very chilly standing here, I can tell you. I put the electric blanket on. My bed is lovely and cosy.

Nell: Yes, we noticed. Thank you.

Me: I’m surprised Poppy isn’t more agitated.

Nell: Why should she be? Malcolm organised breakfast and she doesn’t need to start prepping the roast chicken until later.

Me: I meant with John the Doberman coming over here.

Nell: I beg your pardon? Did you say John was coming here?

Me: He didn’t sound in a good mood.

Nell: You’ve spoken to John?

Me: Yes. He called the house phone because Poppy wasn’t answering her iBone.

Nell: Why didn’t you tell me that before? John wasn’t supposed to be back from Scotland until next week.

Me: He decided to travel back earlier after an anonymous well wisher told him to ‘Keep an eye on the missus.’ I quote.

Nell: Well wisher, indeed. It sounds like a Beefy.

Me: He was most concerned until I told him Poppy was quite safe and they were probably just referring to her new friend Babycakes Gillespie.

Nell: You told him about Babycakes?

Me: He was ever so worried, Nell. I had to put his mind at ease.

Nell: And did you?

Me: Not exactly, but at least he seems more annoyed now than worried, which is a good thing.

Nell: Is it, though?

Me: Maybe not. Sorry.

Me: Look at you, you beautiful dog. Blessed with your own rainbow.

Nell: It’s just the sun casting light on my fur, but thank you for the compliment.

Me: You are beautiful, Nell. Inside and out.

Nell: What do you want?

Me: Nothing.

Nell: Are you hungry?

Me: Definitely not.

Nell: Only you can get all flowery and emotional when you haven’t eaten.

Me: I had a rather large American breakfast, to be honest.

Nell: An American breakfast?

Me: Yes. Pancakes and maple syrup from Monty the moose.

Nell: Monty is a Canadian moose and a member of the Mounties. Don’t call him American.

Me: I didn’t. There was lots of bacon and all kinds of eggs with Huevos rancheros for the more adventurous.

Nell: I’m not a fan of tortillas in the morning but I expect Alejandro was delighted.

Me: Yes, and so was Knitwear Wolf. He loves Mexican food.

Nell: I thought you said it was an American breakfast.

Me: Yes, but Babycakes explained that Huevos rancheros are extremely popular in the United States and the llamas begged Poppy to cook them, so she did.

Nell: What were the llamas doing there?

Me: They always have breakfast with us at the weekend, Nell.

Nell: Well, toast and marmalade is fine with me.

Me: That’s a relief because Dave ate yours by mistake.

Nell: I knew you were up to something with all those compliments.

Me: Everyone thought I should be the one to tell you.

Nell: It’s fine. I’ll just enjoy my toast and marmalade alone with a small cup of Earl Grey.

Me: Kev’s made a fire and Saturday Kitchen is on the television. The llamas are asleep on the sofa but your comfy chair is free.

Nell: Llamas on the sofa? Whatever next?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Dave’s in the kitchen with a focused face.

Nell: He’s learning how to make lasagne.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. Has Poppy started giving her cookery classes again?

Nell: Yes. There’s been a request from the larger animals. They feel the need to extend their skills.

Me: Why now?

Nell: A large animal cannot exist on cereal alone. Poppy’s disappearance taught us all that.

Me: Actually many of them do.

Nell: Don’t be silly. Food should not be plain and dry. What is a scone without jam and cream?

Me: Are they going to make scones?

Nell: No. Figuratively speaking. A dry biscuit is nothing without gravy.

Me: Most people dunk their biscuits in tea. I didn’t have you down as a dunker.

Nell: I am not a dunker. I’m talking about choices. We all need them.

Me: Variety is the spice of life.

Nell: I’m less keen on spices, to be honest. That chilli con carne Poppy made yesterday was a little too hot. David had to have a lie down.

Me: That’s because he ate Alejandro’s by mistake.

Nell: Yes, he likes his extra spicy.

Me: Babycakes enjoyed it.

Nell: He enjoys anything Poppy makes. She could serve him raw pastry and he would applaud.

Me: But Poppy’s pies never have soggy bottoms.

Nell: Nobody was talking about bottoms.

Me: Will Dave be learning how to make pies?

Nell: Later perhaps. Poppy wants to begin with one pot dishes like soups and stews. You need light paws for pastry.

Me: It’s a comfort food time of year, isn’t it?

Nell: It’s a comfort food time in general, if you ask me.

Me: You are a great comfort to me, Nell.

Nell: As you are to me. Now, let’s learn how to make lasagne.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: There is something very strange going on in the field.

Nell: I’m not sure I want to know.

Me: There’s a huge orange blanket.

Nell: That’s Poppy’s sleeping bag. Babycakes Gillespie doesn’t want her getting cold now the weather has turned.

Me: It looks like Poppy is smiling.

Nell: Yes. She loves it. Some of his crows took it with them on our walk yesterday in case she got tired. They follow her everywhere.

Me: Is that why it’s tied at the corners?

Nell: Yes. Easier to carry. Now they’re playing that awful Yap music again.

Me: Don’t you mean rap?

Nell: No, I don’t. Although, I don’t know why it’s called music. Just lots of dogs yapping away. Bring back Frank The Barker is what I say. Remember ‘My Way’?

Me: Each to their own. Dave and Harriet seem full of beans.

Nell: Full of American doughnuts, you mean. They adore them. What’s wrong with a nice piece of shortbread?

Me: It’s lovely to see them having fun.

Nell: It will all end in tears. Mark my paws.

Me: Chloe is ever so pleased with you, by the way. She says you’re doing so well that she only needs to see you every 2 weeks for hydrotherapy.

Nell: Stop changing the subject. What’s going on now?

Me: Oh, look at those hot dogs.

Nell: Too much dancing I expect.

Me: No. Babycakes has another one of his trolleys. I rather fancy a proper American hot dog with all the trimmings.

Nell: Don’t expect me to eat one.

Me: There’s an awfully long queue.

Nell: I expect Gladys is entertaining them with a contemporary dance.

Me: How did you guess?

Nell: Please tell me the Welsh corgi choir aren’t dressed as cheerleaders.

Me: Yes, and waving pom-poms. Sorry.