Me: Look at you all squished in the cushions.
Nell: Could you keep the noise down, please?
Me: One cocktail too many last night?
Nell: Mind your own business.
Me: I saw you kicking up your heels with Knitwear Wolf.
Nell: Rupert and I were dancing a slow waltz as befits our age.
Me: It looked more like an Argentine Tango to me.
Nell: Nonsense. I leave that kind of thing to Gladys and the Llamas.
Me: Poppy and John the Doberman were on fire.
Nell: I told her to stop poking the barbecue with her sword but she wouldn’t listen.
Me: Dave was on fine form. I never knew he could sing in Spanish.
Nell: David has been speaking Spanish for years. He and Alejandro are best friends. Do keep up.
Me: It can’t be years, Nell. Dave’s only 4.
Nell: He and Harriet will be 5 on 19th June. Which is this Sunday, by the way.
Me: Really? I keep thinking the puppies have their birthday in July.
Nell: I know you do. This is a busy birthday month. Your sister will be 60 on Friday.
Me: Yes. How did that happen? It seems only yesterday when she was my naughty little sister.
Nell: She still is. Don’t you worry about that.
Me: How about Manuel? Singing away with those guitar playing birds.
Nell: The Gypsy Wings. What kind of a name is that? Sounds like a takeaway.
Me: I thought he sang beautifully and with such passion.
Nell: There was a touch too much tentacle waving for me.
Me: He’s an octopus from Barcelona, Nell.
Nell: True.
Me: Shall I bring you a cup of Earl Grey?
Nell: That would be lovely.
Me: And a couple of nachos?
Nell: Shortbread will do, thank you.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
