Me: Wake up.
Nell: Is he still singing?
Me: No, he’s sitting next to my bed staring at me.
Nell: Ask him what he wants.
Me: I’m a bit scared.
Nell: He probably needs another cuddly toy.
Me: He’s got hundreds of them already. Do you think he’s trying to hypnotise me?
Nell: The Great Barberino isn’t going to waste time on you.
Me: That’s a relief.
Nell: And if he isn’t singing he isn’t hypnotising.
Me: He just sighed and left.
Nell: There you are then.
Me: I think I might have been a disappointment.
Nell: Never mind.
Me: I’ll tell you who isn’t a disappointment.
Nell: Who?
Me: The stuffed tiger.
Nell: Yes, he loves Beaumarchais.
Me: I think he’d do anything for that tiger.
Nell: As long as he performs at the Mayoral Concert later all will be well.
Me: It feels like he’s been practising for hours.
Nell: That wasn’t practising.
Me: He can certainly sing quite high.
Nell: He’s a tenor.
Me: He sounded more like a soprano to me.
Nell: The Great Barberino has a wide range.
Me: Has he met the Welsh Corgi Choir yet?
Nell: Yes, they had strawberries and cream with him at The Cat’s yesterday afternoon.
Me: Why wasn’t I invited? I love strawberries and cream.
Nell: You are neither a corgi nor a singer.
Me: Are we expecting a lot of visitors?
Nell: Yes. Word has spread that The Great Barberino is performing and it’s not something anyone wants to miss.
Me: Do you think the Beefies are going to try and attack?
Nell: We’re expecting Sven Gully to be lurking somewhere but don’t worry.
Me: Because we have our hats and sunglasses?
Nell: No, we have The Great Barberino. Nothing will get past him.
Me: Of course. Sorry.
