Me: The sunsets are so magical here and look at the sky this morning.
Nell: Who is that young animal, please?
Me: Dave’s giving you the side eye. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: Never mind David. Who is that terrier?
Me: Her name’s Daisy and she’s here with Vicky, one of the writers.
Nell: At the Cottage Hotel?
Me: Dogs are allowed to stay in certain rooms.
Nell: I know. I’ve stayed there myself. It’s in your book. Remember?
Me: I think you’d like Daisy. She’s a bit like you. Well spoken and obsessed with men.
Nell: I beg your pardon?
Me: I’m always being told off but you listen to Kev.
Nell: You just need more guidance than Kev does.
Me: Why is Dave looking at you like that?
Nell: He doesn’t want to go to Sunday Songs.
Me: Is he feeling unwell?
Nell: No, he wants to wait for you and work on his Yorkshire puddings. He can’t seem to get them quite right.
Me: Couldn’t he work on them after Sunday Songs?
Nell: Exactly what I said.
Me: I hope working on them doesn’t only mean eating.
Nell: There’s an element of cooking involved, but eating is a major part.
Me: How many has he had?
Nell: Don’t ask.
Me: Does that mean there will be a Sunday roast when I get home?
Nell: Absolutely. Poppy would expect nothing less.
Me: How is she?
Nell: A little exasperated. Life as a Guardian is somewhat quieter than she would choose.
Me: I miss her so much.
Nell: We all do and we’ve missed you too, so get that case packed.
Me: Are you coming to collect me?
Nell: What a ridiculous question. Of course I am. The writers will be wanting to meet me.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
