Me: Dave’s in the living room looking sad.
Nell: They ate all the trifle.
Me: It was probably Roary’s idea.
Nell: He’s just a cub. David’s face has guilt written all over it.
Me: My poor Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: There was cream absolutely everywhere.
Me: I expect Dave cleaned it all up.
Nell: I’m not even sure lions are supposed to eat trifle.
Me: We could ask Lionel King.
Nell: Why would we do that?
Me: Because he’s outside the front door.
Nell: What?
Me: He’s looking a bit grumpy.
Nell: He would be. We’ve got his son.
Me: Do you think he knows?
Nell: The Beefies were bound to blab.
Me: Do they even know he’s here?
Nell: Didn’t David tell you about the game?
Me: What game?
Nell: The Catch the Mackerel game.
Me: That sounds slippery but fun.
Nell: Roary loves it. Unfortunately you need Beefies to play.
Me: What are the rules?
Nell: Apparently if you shout ‘Bad Beefy’ they will throw a mackerel at you. It turns out that lion cubs really like mackerel.
Me: I’m surprised Roary had room for trifle.
Nell: There’s always room for trifle.
Me: Should we let Lionel in? He’s getting a bit shouty.
Nell: Shouty?
Me: Yes. He’s shaking his mane and roaring ‘Give me my son!’
Nell: That lion is so theatrical.
Me: Yes. He’s a bit of a Drama King. See what I did there?
Nell: Just show him into the living room and tell him I will join him in a few minutes.
Me: Do you need to freshen up then? Only you look fine to me.
Nell: I need to get Knitwear Wolf and Beauregard. We can’t leave Lionel alone with David for long. Goodness only knows what will happen.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
