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.
