Me: There’s nothing like a winter walk on a deserted beach.
Nell: I saw a couple of spaniels and a whippet.
Me: Virtually deserted then.
Nell: We certainly had enough space.
Me: Every time we walk over that hill and I see the sea and our little island my heart lifts and I can breathe again.
Nell: I’m always glad when the hill climb is over, too.
Me: I didn’t mean that, Nell.
Nell: I know. I’m just teasing you.
Me: Dave even had a swim with Harriet. Brave little thing.
Nell: David is a lot of things but little isn’t one of them.
Me: Handsome is. A lady on the beach was captivated by his handsomeness.
Nell: There’s no such word.
Me: She said ‘Look at that dog’s wonderful head.’
Nell: Never mind all that. We need to discuss David’s behaviour.
Me: Why? He had a lovely time on the beach and behaved really well.
Nell: I’m not talking about the beach. I’m talking about breakfast.
Me: Are you talking about Porridgegate?
Nell: I am.
Me: I was stirring my porridge because it was still rather hot so it might have looked like I was inviting him to taste it.
Nell: He stuck his nose in your bowl.
Me: Yes, and he burnt his tongue. Poor darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: He needs to know he cannot go around sticking his face in people’s porridge.
Me: It was a little annoying.
Nell: It was rude.
Me: And sticky.
Nell: It can’t happen again.
Me: It probably will. He’s been particularly naughty since Poppy left us.
Nell: I’ve noticed that too. Demanding cuddles and attention all the time.
Me: Losing someone can make you feel really insecure.
Nell: It doesn’t make you eat someone else’s porridge.
Me: No. Sorry.
