Me: Why are you three sitting by my bed? It’s still early and I’m writing.
Nell: David needs your help.
Me: With what?
Nell: His defence.
Me: Is he going to court?
Nell: We don’t know, but after yesterday’s performance he might be.
Me: Tell me what happened.
Nell: Well, Russell was having tea with Poppy and I. He seemed a little tense, which was probably down to Poppy’s sword.
Me: Was she waving it?
Nell: No. She used it to pass him a scone.
Me: Why?
Nell: She had to maintain social distancing.
Me: Yes. Of course.
Nell: She’d polished it, however, so it kept glinting and she was smiling in a threatening way.
Me: I hate it when she does that.
Nell: Yes. I tried distracting him with a little gentle conversation about the weather, but he wasn’t interested.
Me: Silly animal. Conversations with you are always delightful.
Nell: You are too kind. Fortunately David bounded in with his usual exuberance. He was explaining that the advice about pushing Russell off the wall was just a joke when The Cat arrived.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: It was wearing a feathered hat and a sequinned cloak.
Me: That’s always worrying.
Nell: Quite. Anyway, it sauntered over to Russell and said, ‘Are you the terrier who criticised the Afghan’s luscious locks?’
Me: No beating around the bush there then.
Nell: What bush? We were in the living room.
Me: Never mind.
Nell: Russell said, ‘It pushed me off the wall.’
Me: Did The Cat reply?
Nell: Yes. It said, ‘Good. Mind your manners in future, or it will happen again.’
Me: Gosh.
Nell: Then it pushed the scone off his plate and left. Russell was furious.
Me: Did it fall jam down?
Nell: That’s not the point.
Me: No. Sorry.
