Nell: I would stay away from the living room if I were you.
Me: What’s going on?
Nell: Poppy’s having a wild moment.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: It happens now and again. Harriet is dealing with it.
Me: Do we know why she’s turned wild?
Nell: Jim the Farm Dog still isn’t back from wherever he’s gone and Poppy is used to her daily basket of eggs.
Me: Can’t Malcolm collect them?
Nell: Malcolm is too beaky.
Me: Flamingos can’t help their bent beaks. I think it has something to do with feeding upside down.
Nell: David has offered to help but he can be clumsy and his paws are too large.
Me: What about Harriet?
Nell: I don’t think she wants to go to the farm without Jim.
Me: What can we do?
Nell: Rupert says he’ll organise something. He’d collect them himself but chickens aren’t fond of wolves.
Me: I could go if you like.
Nell: Your mornings are for writing. Hopefully Jim will be back soon.
Me: Did he and Harriet have a falling out?
Nell: Not as far as I know, although they haven’t spoken for a while.
Me: That’s not good.
Nell: Harriet lost her voice. Remember?
Me: But it’s back now.
Nell: Jim doesn’t know that.
Me: Someone should tell him. Maybe he’s gone to look for it. Maybe he’s scouring the land for a trace of his sweetheart’s voice. A whimper, or a gentle bark.
Nell: Good grief. Calm down. I’ll suggest Harriet texts him on his iBone.
Me: She should call him. Then he’ll know her voice is back.
Nell: Good idea.
Me: Wow. Yesterday you apologise and today you tell me I’ve had a good idea. Maybe you’re starting to see me differently.
Nell: Don’t count your chickens.
Me: No. Sorry.
