Me: Those waves were magnificent, weren’t they?
Nell: The sea was a little too rough for my liking.
Me: I always love it when it’s fierce and snarly.
Nell: Here we go.
Me: You and Harriet seemed more interested in the seaweed.
Nell: Harriet thought she could smell lion.
Me: Lion?
Nell: Don’t look so surprised. He was bound to come back again. This is his favourite part of the world and his son lives here.
Me: Are we talking about Lionel King?
Nell: Of course we are.
Me: Well, I hope he stays away. That lion is bad news.
Nell: While we’re on the subject of Big Cats. Beauregard and Mrs King are thinking of adding an extension to the tree house.
Me: Why?
Nell: Roary is growing fast and Oliver needs his space.
Me: You wouldn’t expect an opossum to live with a tiger, a lioness and a lion cub.
Nell: Oliver feels safe there.
Me: But then again you wouldn’t expect a fierce terrier to have a flamingo and an octopus as her sous chefs.
Nell: I suppose not.
Me: Or a Welsh corgi choir to be singing in a field.
Nell: It’s Sunday Songs. Where else would they be?
Me: True.
Nell: I certainly wasn’t expecting the Whippets Institute to turn up in their minibus.
Me: Nobody expects the Whippets Institute.
Nell: Nonsense. They usually tell us when they’re coming.
Me: It was a joke.
Nell: I hope they’re not expecting roast potatoes.
Me: Are they staying for lunch?
Nell: It’s Sunday. Everyone’s staying for lunch.
Me: There’ll have to be roast potatoes, Nell. You can’t have Sunday lunch without them.
Nell: I agree. You’d better tell Poppy we have extra guests.
Me: Why me?
Nell: Why not? Are those llamas cartwheeling again?
Me: Yes. Sorry.
