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Good for the soul

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.

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