Me: It was rather grey and blustery down at the beach, wasn’t it?
Nell: It was.
Me: Although, judging by your mood, it might be stormier at home.
Nell: This simply cannot continue.
Me: What have I done now?
Nell: It’s not you. It’s Poppy. She’s completely out of control.
Me: Poppy seems in the best of spirits to me.
Nell: Exactly.
Me: I was only just saying to Sir Malcolm and Sir Manuel that I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.
Nell: And there you have it. Manuel can’t be a Sir. He’s from Barcelona.
Me: Manuel can be whatever Poppy tells him he is like Lady Gladys and the Royal Llamas.
Nell: The llamas are not royal and Gladys is not a lady.
Me: I beg to differ and the Duke and Duchess of Devon would agree with me.
Nell: There is no such thing as a Duke and Duchess of Devon.
Me: Of course there is. If you look out of the window you can see them enjoying a morning bagel from the Baron’s coffee cart.
Nell: All I can see is David and Harriet. And Babycakes Gillespie is a pug not a baron.
Me: He can be both you know.
Nell: This has got completely out of paw. Poppy cannot go around knighting everyone she sees.
Me: It isn’t everyone. Walter is still a commoner and Timothy refused the title.
Nell: Timothy is laying low. It’s a dangerous time for turkeys.
Me: Rupert was a prince already so he is in no need of a title but I think Lady Nell really suits you.
Nell: I will only accept that honour from the King himself.
Me: I think Count Henry and Count Horst would urge you to reconsider.
Nell: Good grief.
Me: Sorry.
