Malcolm speaks up

Me: I do hope the puppies are comfortable enough.

Nell: Yes. Harriet has your chair and pillows and David is luxuriating on my blanket.

Me: I’m never going to get that chair back, am I?

Nell: Stop grumbling. Yesterday was exhausting enough without starting today off on the wrong paw.

Me: I didn’t expect Malcolm to raise his voice.

Nell: Nobody did.

Me: I didn’t realise Malcolm could be quite so commanding.

Nell: It was the only way to shut Squawk up.

Me: It shut everyone up.

Nell: ‘Kindly close your beak, sir, and leave this luncheon.’

Me: I know. Magnificent, wasn’t it?

Nell: Squawk has no manners at all. Shovelling in prawns like there’s no tomorrow and walking up and down the table.

Me: That was rude.

Nell: And he could have washed his feathers. Nobody wants seaweed at the dinner table.

Me: Sushi fans might disagree. I love the crunchy stuff and James Beddall is partial to a portion of laverbread.

Nell: That’s not what I meant and you know it.

Me: Yes.

Nell: He had it hanging around his neck.

Me: It might have been a fashion statement, or he just forgot it was there.

Nell: He knew it was there. He kept throwing it over his shoulder like a scarf.

Me: At least he left after Malcolm’s stern warning.

Nell: Yes. Terry was so relieved. He apologised to me for his brother’s dreadful behaviour. I think he finds being a Beefy hard enough without being related to Squawk.

Me: You don’t think you might be giving Terry the wrong idea, do you?

Nell: What on earth do you mean?

Me: That you like him more than you do?

Nell: What utter nonsense. I despair of you sometimes. I really do.

Me: Yes. You’re probably right. Sorry.

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