Me: Look at you flirting with Tony.
Nell: I was merely saying hello.
Me: Were you playing Cheeky Animals, or giving him a kiss?
Nell: I was simply greeting a friend. How’s your writing retreat going?
Me: Really well. I have a beautiful view of the sea from my room and I’m loving the company of other writers.
Nell: Good.
Me: Hope Cove is good for the soul.
Nell: So is the Cottage Hotel.
Me: Yes. Sarah and William have our book on sale here too, with a photo of us beside it.
Nell: How kind of them. I hope I am missed.
Me: You are. I noticed a rather dapper Dachshund showing great interest in your photo.
Nell: A dapper Dachshund?
Me: Yes.
Nell: I thought you said dogs weren’t allowed.
Me: Not in the restaurant, or lounge. And he’s only small, Nell, and not as noticeable as larger dogs.
Nell: I beg your pardon? Small dogs can be extremely noticeable. You should see Poppy this morning.
Me: Why?
Nell: She’s in a top hat and tails.
Me: Any particular reason?
Nell: Dress rehearsal later. She and Stephen are dancing the quickstep.
Me: I see.
Nell: Most unsuitable attire for frying bacon.
Me: Was she wearing an apron?
Nell: Yes, but that’s not the point.
Me: You’ll be pleased to hear I refused the cheese and biscuits.
Nell: Good. I wish the Welsh Corgi Choir were as sensible.
Me: What happened?
Nell: Myfanwy made a lemon posset.
Me: That’s fine. Possets are basically cream.
Nell: With a biscuit crumb on the top.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: Now it’s looking like there’ll be no singing at Strictly this weekend.
Me: How awful.
Nell: Beauregard has offered to sing but there’s only so much a tiger can do.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
