Me: Poppy and Harriet were jolly naughty this morning.

Nell: Were they?

Me: Yes, you know it’s a Bank Holiday today?

Nell: Yes, and Janet Mason’s birthday.

Me: I didn’t know that.

Nell: There you are.

Me: What’s that supposed to mean?

Nell: You’d be surprised at what I know.

Me: I don’t think I would.

Nell: You just were.

Me: Never mind. Poppy and Harriet are still naughty.

Nell: Let’s move on to these false accusations then, shall we?

Me: They’re not false accusations. I was writing quietly and Kev was trying to have a lie-in when Harriet slithered up the bed and Poppy actually stood on him.

Nell: Now, let’s be clear. Labradors don’t slither. We are not snakes. We may occasionally slink but we never slither.

Me: She manoeuvred her way to the top of the bed.

Nell: Better.

Me: And Poppy climbed on top of him with all four paws.

Nell: She isn’t going to balance on her front two like a circus dog, is she? Good grief.

Me: It was naughty. They knew Kev was asleep.

Nell: I think naughty is a little excessive. I would prefer concerned.

Me: You don’t stand on someone if you’re concerned about them.

Nell: David does. All the time.

Me: That’s different. People aren’t asleep.

Nell: Poppy probably wanted to check if Kev was really asleep.

Me: Rubbish.

Nell: And was he?

Me: Was he what?

Nell: Was Kev asleep?

Me: No. He got up.

Nell: So, what’s all the fuss about?

Me: It’s the wrong way to start a Bank Holiday.

Nell: I beg to differ. Last seen Kev was downstairs enjoying a full English breakfast with David and Harriet.

Me: Oh.

Nell: Exactly the right way to start a Bank Holiday. Wouldn’t you agree?

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Dave is fast asleep under the kitchen table. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Don’t worry, Harriet is watching over him.

Me: Yesterday’s afternoon tea was exhausting.

Nell: Those Maine Coons weren’t even wearing hats.

Me: They’re Minimalists, Nell. Anyway, berets are hats.

Nell: Not in my book.

Me: Are you writing one too?

Nell: Yes, with you. Remember?

Me: Did you see the Maine Coons’ faces when the Whippets Institute Big Band started playing and the llamas leap out in lycra?

Nell: No, I was too busy helping the Welsh Corgi Choir on stage.

Me: Why?

Nell: Their dresses were a little on the tight side. Satin can be most unforgiving.

Me: The Cat’s Mother actually gasped when the flamingos surrounded them.

Nell: A flamboyance can be startling if you’re not expecting it.

Me: Especially armed to the beak.

Nell: Count Bingo insisted.

Me: The Maine Coons tried to get Dave to sit next to them at tea. They even grabbed his tail coat.

Nell: I know but David was having none of it.

Me: He responded magnificently.

Nell: I agree.

Me: He took off his top hat, bowed and said ‘Ladies, I’m afraid I must decline. I shall be sitting at the other end of the table next to my dear friend The Cat.’

Nell: Fortunately he’d rehearsed the correct response with Rupert earlier. He was going to say ‘Off the cloth, moth’.

Me: They didn’t eat much apart from clotted cream.

Nell: I was relieved when Poppy took it away.

Me: She said, ‘No scone, no cream. And use a spoon next time.’

Nell: Quite right.

Me: At least Lionel kept a low profile.

Nell: I didn’t notice. Stop grinning and help Poppy with the potatoes. Sunday roast won’t cook itself you know.

Me: Yes. Sorry.