Me: You know I was taking a photo of Dave?

Nell: Yes.

Me: You photobombed the first one so I had to take it again.

Nell: I did no such thing.

Me: Why are you in the photo then?

Nell: I was simply checking you were doing the job properly.

Me: It was supposed to be of Dave on his own and there you are in the background with a grumpy face.

Nell: My face wasn’t grumpy. It was concerned.

Me: Why?

Nell: The photo needs to be just right. David is the Mayor of Kingsbridge and needs it for his campaign.

Me: What campaign?

Nell: To remain as Mayor. Do keep up.

Me: I’m not even going to try and remind you he isn’t the Mayor because you simply won’t listen.

Nell: Stephen Seagull took out a double page spread in the Growl on Sunday so we’re going to have to do the same.

Me: Are you part of Dave’s campaign now?

Nell: What do you mean ‘now’? I’ve always been on David’s team.

Me: We’re all on Dave’s team.

Nell: I’m not so sure.

Me: Why?

Nell: Where are the photos of his Deputy Mayors?

Me: His what?

Nell: Henry and Horst. Where are their photos?

Me: I didn’t know I was supposed to be taking any.

Nell: Why do you think they’re wearing bow ties?

Me: I thought it was just a woodlouse thing.

Nell: The Cat thinks we’re missing a trick by not featuring the insect population.

Me: I didn’t know they had a vote.

Nell: Everyone has a vote. How do you think Henry and Horst were elected?

Me: I thought Dave chose them as his deputies.

Nell: You mean as part of his duties as Mayor of Kingsbridge?

Me: I suppose I do. Sorry.

Me: First I’d like to say Happy Birthday to my niece. She’s missing her mother very much. Please know we’re all here for you, Abi.

Nell: Yes, we are.

Me: Where are the puppies? I wanted to say Happy Birthday to them too. I can’t believe they’re six today.

Nell: They’re having a Birthday Breakfast Picnic with everyone in the field. You should join them.

Me: Will there be bacon sandwiches?

Nell: Do pugs fly?

Me: I love the photos, Nell. Weren’t they just adorable? Look at the size of Poppy in comparison. Hard to imagine Dave was ever that small.

Nell: Yes, and now he’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge.

Me: Except he isn’t.

Nell: I must say David handled the controversy at the Cake Competition very well.

Me: What controversy?

Nell: Some of the cakes went missing.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: Including Poppy’s lemon drizzle.

Me: That’s shocking.

Nell: Fortunately the judges had already tasted them and marks had been awarded.

Me: I’ve just had an awful thought.

Nell: Tell me.

Me: You don’t think Dave might have eaten them by mistake? You know how hard he finds it to stop when he’s started.

Nell: Ten cakes went missing. Even David can’t eat that many, especially after trying twenty.

Me: Did Poppy win again?

Nell: No, she came second to an extraordinary six layered opera cake made by a French Bulldog from Falmouth.

Me: Was she angry about losing?

Nell: Let’s just say the opera cake had a few more slices.

Me: Look! Are those Beefies throwing cake at the Birthday Picnic?

Nell: Yes, and if I’m not mistaken that was a piece of lemon drizzle.

Me: Dave caught it, bowed and gave it to Harriet. Clever Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: The Mayor triumphs again.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Remind me why we’re having breakfast this early on a Sunday, please?

Me: Naughty Nigel and Boo need reassurance.

Nell: Could we change it to Naughty Boo? He stuck his tongue out at me.

Me: You know what it’s like when you’re sleeping over at a strange place, Nell. You often wake early or don’t sleep that well.

Nell: It’s Sunday. It’s supposed to be a day of rest.

Me: I know.

Nell: Thank goodness Sunday means two breakfasts. David would never last until lunch.

Me: What time is the Cake Competition?

Nell: Not until this afternoon. Poppy is entering her lemon drizzle.

Me: I’m not sure that’s allowed.

Nell: Why not?

Me: Dave’s the judge. He could be accused of bias.

Nell: Poppy usually wins anyway.

Me: She can’t.

Nell: You tell her. Now, tomorrow is the puppies’ birthday.

Me: Yes. It’s Alex’s daughter Abi’s birthday too.

Nell: The first without her mother.

Me: Yes. Thank goodness for little Tobias. Children are such a comfort.

Nell: They are. How was Charlotte’s birthday dinner at the Cottage Hotel?

Me: Absolutely magical. There was a wedding on the beach and we watched the celebrations from the terrace as the sun came down.

Nell: How lovely.

Me: All the guests lined up along the sea wall as the bride and groom sailed past.

Nell: Dogs are allowed on the terrace.

Me: We didn’t go out there until after dinner.

Nell: Anyway, back to David and Harriet. I’ve organised a bouncy castle and the Whippets Institute Big Band is arriving at 5pm.

Me: Today?

Nell: Of course not. Today is Sunday. Do keep up.

Me: So, all we have to do today is enjoy Sunday Songs and Poppy’s roast.

Nell: Don’t forget our second breakfast and the Cake Competition.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: It’s your sister Charlotte’s birthday today.

Me: Yes.

Nell: The first one without Alex.

Me: It was always the three of us.

Nell: Yes.

Me: Now we’re two.

Nell: You’re still three. Alex is with you in spirit.

Me: Well, we’re going to celebrate Charlotte’s birthday because that’s what Alex would have wanted.

Nell: Good. Naughty Nigel has written a poem for her.

Me: I’d love to hear it.

Nell: Are you sure? It’s complete and utter nonsense.

Me: Can’t wait.

Nell: ‘Noses are red

And sometimes they’re blue.

It’s the weather that decides

Their colour and hue.’

Me: What’s that got to do with Charlotte’s birthday?

Nell: I warned you. May I continue?

Me: Yes.

Nell: ‘Why talk about noses?’

You ask in dismay.

‘They have nothing to do

With Charlotte’s birthday.’

‘I agree,’ I replied.

‘It is my mistake.

Would you care for a sandwich,

Or a large slice of cake?’

‘I don’t mind if I do.

Just stop talking about noses.

And violets are blue

And the red things are roses.‘

‘Of course, silly me.

I’m such a buffoon.

Can I ask is today

The 17th June?‘

‘You know that it is.

I’ve told you before.’

‘So we’ve got the right day.

Now give me your paw.

Let’s put on our leggings

And roll out the mats.’

‘Only if you include Boo

And the cats.’

‘Cats don’t do yoga

And Boo isn’t sure.

But if you insist

They can stretch on the floor.’

‘Are you certain that yoga

Is what Charlotte would want?

I was thinking more of a coffee

And a tasty croissant.’

‘Coffee it is.

I should’ve listened to you.

Happy Birthday dear Charlotte

From Nigel and Boo.‘

Me: Perfect. Charlotte loves nonsense poems and Alex would have laughed.

Nell: Exactly.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Why are you hiding under the kitchen table?

Nell: Have they gone yet?

Me: Who?

Nell: Poppy and her Seven Sisters?

Me: They’re outside in the field Gliding with Gladys and the llamas. Petunia’s showing them some new moves.

Nell: Thank goodness. I can finally have my breakfast in peace. Could you pop a couple of slices of bread in the toaster, please, and fetch the butter and marmalade?

Me: Of course. So, are you finding having all the Poppys here a little exhausting?

Nell: I am, although David’s the one I feel really sorry for.

Me: Why?

Nell: They all adore him. Won’t leave him alone. Nibbling his ears, biting his nose and crawling all over him.

Me: Dave probably enjoys it. He loves affection.

Nell: He’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge. They should be showing him more respect.

Me: Except he isn’t actually the Mayor and you know it.

Nell: The Cake Competition is this weekend and it’s a huge responsibility.

Me: Isn’t Pamela the Pyrenean Mountain Dog judging it with him?

Nell: Yes, but as Mayor he has the final decision.

Me: It will all be fine, Nell. He knows his cakes. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Yes, but it’s not about the size of the slice.

Me: Don’t worry. Dave knows what he’s doing.

Nell: Fortunately, The Cat has invited him to a Training Tea this afternoon.

Me: What’s a Training Tea?

Nell: Haven’t you ever been to one?

Me: No.

Nell: Cakes are awarded marks of up to ten and graded on taste, smell and feel.

Me: Feel? I don’t want to squidge a piece of cake in my fingers.

Nell: Then don’t. This is about the feel in your mouth. Is it moist, or dry? Do keep up.

Me: Oh, I see. Sorry.

Me: You three look rather tired. Any particular reason?

Nell: Too many Poppys in the house. It’s completely exhausting.

Me: Some of them are quieter than others.

Nell: Which isn’t saying much. Can you hear them all downstairs?

Me: Yes. What are they doing?

Nell: Making a picnic. Rupert’s taking them down to the beach later in his sidecar.

Me: Knitwear Wolf is such a kind animal. Will they all fit?

Nell: They’re used to squashing.

Me: Poppy isn’t.

Nell: Poppy’s sitting behind him. She needs room for her sword.

Me: Have we got enough helmets? I know Knitwear Wolf has quite a few but possibly not eight in Poppy’s size.

Nell: Don’t worry. The Cat has a large selection in its dressing up box.

Me: Is there anything it doesn’t have in there?

Nell: Not that I know of.

Me: I love picnics.

Nell: Don’t even suggest we join them. David, Harriet and I are going to enjoy the peace and quiet.

Me: Did I see them Gliding with Gladys this morning?

Nell: Yes. Petunia is a big hit with the llamas. They’re all vegans you know.

Me: I think we say herbivores.

Nell: Petunia doesn’t.

Me: Do we know when they’re leaving?

Nell: The llamas aren’t going anywhere. This is their home. You can’t cast them out just because they prefer a plant based diet.

Me: I meant Poppy’s sisters.

Nell: Poppy’s flying them all home on Saturday. We need them gone before Naughty Nigel and Boo arrive.

Me: Are they coming to stay?

Nell: Of course. It’s your sister Charlotte’s birthday on Saturday and she’s staying at the Cottage Hotel.

Me: Oh yes. Kev and I are joining her for dinner.

Nell: What about me? It’s my favourite hotel.

Me: No dogs in the dining room. Sorry.

Me: Why are you lying down?

Nell: I need a moment.

Me: What’s wrong?

Nell: You’re not going to believe this.

Me: I might.

Nell: Poppy’s in the kitchen making bacon sandwiches.

Me: Wonderful. The New Poppy has finally come to her senses.

Nell: She isn’t making sandwiches. Our Poppy is.

Me: Our Poppy’s back?

Nell: Yes.

Me: And The New Poppy’s gone?

Nell: No. The New Poppy’s eating fruit salad. She hasn’t gone anywhere.

Me: I thought you said Poppy was cooking bacon?

Nell: She’s wearing a pirate’s hat and throwing sandwiches around the kitchen with her sword.

Me: While eating fruit salad?

Nell: No, that’s The New Poppy. The other six are busy catching the sandwiches with David.

Me: Did you just say ‘the other six’?

Nell: Yes. There are eight of them.

Me: Are you telling me there are eight Poppys in our kitchen?

Nell: There’s only one Poppy. The others are Primrose, Petunia, Peony, Pansy, Petal, Posy and Pat.

Me: I need a lie down now, too.

Nell: They’re her sisters. That’s where she’s been for the last few days. Collecting her sisters and bringing them here to celebrate turning 10 together.

Me: So who is The New Poppy?

Nell: Petunia. She’s a health and fitness expert. She said she’d be happy to cover for Poppy while she was away.

Me: Why pretend to be her?

Nell: She thought it would be fun.

Me: It wasn’t.

Nell: No.

Me: I’m so glad Poppy’s back and she has her sisters all around her.

Nell: She knew you would be. Losing Alex made her realise what sisters mean.

Me: Everything.

Nell: Exactly. Ready to party?

Me: Do you think there’ll be cake?

Nell: Poppy’s home and it’s her birthday. Of course there will be cake.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: You know how Harriet goes wild at the beach?

Nell: I do. She never stops running.

Me: I think she might just be generally wild on walks.

Nell: I’m inclined to agree. There we were walking along minding our own business when she shot out of the bushes at full speed.

Me: And ran straight down to the river.

Nell: And back out again.

Me: She had a wonderful time though, didn’t she?

Nell: We all did, to be fair.

Me: Yes. There’s something extremely relaxing about a walk along a leafy river bank in the summer sunshine.

Nell: Not when Harriet’s around.

Me: Even The New Poppy seemed strangely relaxed.

Nell: Don’t talk to me about The New Poppy. Did you hear what we’re having for lunch?

Me: No.

Nell: Cold soup.

Me: What?

Nell: Nasty cold soup and not even freshly baked crunchy bread spread thickly with farmhouse butter on the side. David is devastated.

Me: My poor Big Brave Beautiful Boy. Can’t we heat it up?

Nell: Apparently not. It’s meant to be cold. The New Poppy said she might throw a few croutons on the top if she has time. Whatever they are.

Me: This can’t go on.

Nell: No, it cannot. David has become a shadow of his former self.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: He’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge. He needs sustenance.

Me: Except he isn’t.

Nell: We’re going to have to stage an Intervention.

Me: Goodness me.

Nell: The New Poppy needs to give us some answers right now.

Me: Yes, preferably before lunch because I’m not eating cold soup.

Nell: This isn’t about soup.

Me: It is a bit. I can’t stand the stuff.

Nell: No. It’s about Our Poppy. It’s her birthday tomorrow and we need her back.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I can’t believe we forgot Marvin’s Fourth birthday.

Nell: I knew he was out of sorts when I saw him in the blue chair.

Me: We don’t have a blue chair. Ours is yellow.

Nell: In Toronto. Chris sent us some photos.

Me: Do you think he’ll ever forgive us?

Nell: He already has. Marvin knows he’s loved and that’s all that matters.

Me: Belated Happy Birthday Darling Marvin from us all.

Nell: Finish your yoghurt and fruit.

Me: I don’t feel like yoghurt and fruit. Can’t I have pancakes?

Nell: No. That’s all there is. The New Poppy says hot breakfasts are unnecessary.

Me: I wish Our Poppy would come back. I miss her.

Nell: Don’t we all. Now, I’m going to tell you something but you have to keep it to yourself.

Me: I’ll try.

Nell: We had a secret Morning Thoughts today without Poppy.

Me: Where was she?

Nell: At the gym.

Me: Poppy doesn’t like the gym.

Nell: She does now and that’s not the point.

Me: No. Please continue.

Nell: We think The New Poppy might not be Our Poppy at all.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: As we see it, there are two possibilities. The New Poppy is an imposter.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Or, Our Poppy has been hypnotised.

Me: Hypnotised?

Nell: Yes. It’s happened before.

Me: What can we do?

Nell: I’m not sure but this needs to be resolved by Wednesday.

Me: Why?

Nell: Poppy turns 10 and we’re not celebrating without her.

Me: Oh my goodness. I’ve just realised that if The New Poppy is an imposter then Our Poppy is out there somewhere frightened and alone.

Nell: Nothing frightens Our Poppy. Wherever she is you can be sure she’s fighting her way back to us.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Wasn’t it wonderful down at the river yesterday? The perfect place to escape to on a hot and humid day.

Nell: It’s my favourite place.

Me: I know it is. It was a good idea to take everyone there this time, wasn’t it?

Nell: I suppose so, although I’ve always seen it as my secret escape to be perfectly honest.

Me: Caring is Sharing.

Nell: Everyone certainly enjoyed themselves.

Me: They did. The puppies swam together and even Poppy went in for a quick paddle.

Nell: The New Poppy you mean.

Me: Don’t call her that.

Nell: The New Poppy says bacon sandwiches are too heavy and a nice light fruit salad is a much better start to a Sunday.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: David has collapsed in disbelief.

Me: Poor Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. He must be fainting with hunger.

Nell: I don’t know what the Welsh Corgi Choir are going to say when they see carrot sticks with their elevenses instead of shortbread biscuits.

Me: You can’t dunk a carrot in your tea.

Nell: Which is exactly what I said to my friend Dorothy when I spoke to her on WoofsApp just now.

Me: I fear for our Sunday roast, Nell.

Nell: You should. The New Poppy says lightly poached salmon with green beans is the way to go.

Me: Sounds rather nice, actually.

Nell: With no potatoes.

Me: What?

Nell: And definitely no pudding afterwards.

Me: I need to sit down.

Nell: And you can forget afternoon tea. The New Poppy doesn’t do scones.

Me: But scones are Poppy’s speciality. People travel far and wide for a taste of Poppy’s scones.

Nell: Not anymore, they don’t.

Me: We need to get the old Poppy back.

Nell: I agree. But how?

Me: I don’t know. Sorry.