Me: I know I might be a little bit biased, but have you ever seen a more handsome dog than Dave?

Nell: David is exceptionally good looking.

Me: He’s the Cary Grant of Labradors.

Nell: If you say so.

Me: And the best thing about it is he doesn’t even know.

Nell: David knows.

Me: No, he doesn’t.

Nell: He gets his own way all the time.

Me: He just looks at you with those big brown eyes and you melt.

Nell: I don’t.

Me: Well, most people do.

Nell: David certainly has winning ways. That’s the reason why he’s Mayor of Kingsbridge.

Me: Who wouldn’t vote for such a beautiful boy?

Nell: Is there any particular reason why we’re singing David’s praises this morning?

Me: I saw those photos of him and was overwhelmed by his gorgeousness.

Nell: Good grief. Can we discuss sausage rolls now, please?

Me: Why?

Nell: Herr Hoffmann thinks they’re hot dogs.

Me: What?

Nell: I asked for a sausage roll and he gave me a Frankfurter in a bun.

Me: Are you sure it was a Frankfurter?

Nell: Why?

Me: It might have been a Thüringer Rostbratwurst.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: They’re delicious long grilled sausages served in a small crunchy bread roll with lashings of mild mustard.

Nell: That’s awfully specific.

Me: I used to love them at the Christmas markets in Germany with a beaker of hot mulled wine.

Nell: I just want a sausage roll.

Me: You might think that’s what you want, but if you tried a Thüringer Rostbratwurst you’d soon change your mind.

Nell: Would you just go downstairs and explain to Herr Hoffmann what a sausage roll is, please?

Me: You’re going to regret not trying that sausage.

Nell: David’s already eaten it.

Me: Oh, sorry.

Me: December has the most beautiful skies, doesn’t it?

Nell: Yes, it does.

Me: What do you think of my action shots?

Nell: Action?

Me: Of Kev throwing the ball for Harriet?

Nell: It’s not exactly the Fast and the Furious.

Me: No, but there’s stuff going on.

Nell: Stuff going on? What on earth does that mean?

Me: Things are happening.

Nell: Things are always happening. We’re the Martins.

Me: Ain’t that the truth?

Nell: Why are you talking with an American accent?

Me: I have no idea.

Nell: Well, stop. You sound ridiculous.

Me: The sky looks gorgeous, doesn’t it?

Nell: It does.

Me: Mother Nature never ceases to amaze me.

Nell: I’ll tell you who was amazed. David, when he jumped in that puddle.

Me: Yes. It came up to his ears. Poor darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: He climbed out of it very quickly.

Me: How Harriet can run in and out of that freezing sea is beyond me.

Nell: You do realise you say that every time we go to the sea, don’t you?

Me: Say what?

Nell: That Harriet amazes you.

Me: She does.

Nell: Surely, you’ve got slightly used to it after six years?

Me: Not really.

Nell: There’s a huge amount of interest in David’s Christmas broadcast, by the way.

Me: Wonderful. Talking of broadcasts, Kev and I were thinking of sharing the Christmas Special with everyone again,

Nell: The one you recorded in December 2020?

Me: Yes. I was listening to it and I think it’s still relevant today.

Nell; I think it’s an excellent idea and you should do it.

Me: We have new followers who haven’t heard it and I’m sure nobody would mind listening to it again.

Nell: People will be delighted. It’s magical.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: It’s raining so hard out there I can’t even see the fields.

Nell: The llamas are sheltering in the kitchen.

Me: That explains the smell of wet fur.

Nell: I came out here for some peace and quiet but David’s practising his Christmas speech so there’s no chance of that.

Me: I didn’t know Dave was giving a Christmas speech.

Nell: It’s being recorded this afternoon and will be broadcast to the nation on Christmas Day.

Me: To the nation?

Nell: Yes.

Me: On Christmas Day?

Nell: I just said that.

Me: Dave is not the King, Nell.

Nell: No, but he’s the Mayor of Kingsbridge.

Me: The Mayor of Kingsbridge doesn’t address the nation on Christmas Day.

Nell: He does now.

Me: I don’t think King Charles is going to be very happy about this.

Nell: He’s fine. There can be more than one you know.

Me: More than one king?

Nell: No. Speech. Good grief. Do keep up.

Me: Not to the nation on Christmas Day. Imagine people turning on their televisions expecting to see King Charles and actually seeing a black Labrador.

Nell; A giant black Labrador in a feathered hat with a mayoral chain.

Me: Except it isn’t.

Nell: Most people will be watching on their iBones I expect. Not everyone has YouChewed on their television.

Me: YouChewed?

Nell: Yes. David’s speech will be on our YouChewed channel.

Me: Why didn’t you say that in the first place? There I was thinking Dave was going to be giving the Christmas speech.

Nell: He is.

Me: No. The real one. It’s hard enough for people to get used to not seeing the Queen.

Nell: For some maybe, others might have been pleasantly surprised to see David in all his finery.

Me: You’re absolutely right, Nell. Sorry.

Me: Your greying face is a thing of beauty. I could gaze at it for hours.

Nell: Kind of you to say so, but I’d rather you didn’t wax lyrical at this time of the morning. I haven’t finished my cup of Earl Grey.

Me: You have thousand year old eyes.

Nell: I’m not even 12 until March, thank you very much.

Me: You know what I mean.

Nell: Can we stop talking about my face and discuss your finger? You’re obviously in pain.

Me: I don’t know what I’ve done. It might be arthritis, or repetitive strain injury, but I can hardly move it and it hurts.

Nell: Stop writing and see if that helps.

Me: I can never stop writing, Nell. I just won’t use that finger.

Nell: Fine.

Me: This getting old thing isn’t much fun, is it?

Nell: You don’t hear me complain.

Me: You and Dorothy are always complaining about something. I can hear you on your iBone.

Nell: You should stop listening in on other people’s conversations.

Me: It’s what writers do.

Nell: We were talking about Naughty Nigel, if you must know.

Me: Are he and Dorothy still dating?

Nell: They’re stepping out together, if that’s what you mean.

Me: Nobody says that anymore.

Nell: I do. Apparently, Nigel is developing a more serious side.

Me: Really? Has he started wearing spectacles and a cardigan like a certain someone?

Nell: Are you talking about Rupert?

Me: I might be. I love his new spectacles. They make him look awfully distinguished.

Nell: I agree.

Me: And no one can carry off a cardigan like Knitwear Wolf.

Nell: Rupert has style.

Me: Yes. No flashy medallions for him.

Nell: Are you talking about Lionel King now?

Me: I might be.

Nell: Well, stop.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: I need a word with you, please.

Me: What have I done now?

Nell: You know how David likes to play Cowardy Custard with Walter?

Me: Yes. They can stare at each other for ages before one of them looks away.

Nell: Quite. Well, now he’s started playing it with the Stuffed Tiger.

Me: That’s not a good idea.

Nell: To be honest it keeps him quiet.

Me: True, but the Stuffed Tiger is always going to win.

Nell: Except it didn’t.

Me: What?

Nell: According to David, it looked away.

Me: It can’t have done.

Nell: It not only looked away. It turned away.

Me: That’s not possible.

Nell: I know that and you know that, but David is insisting he won.

Me: Someone must have moved it while Dave was asleep. He’s always falling asleep when he’s trying to concentrate.

Nell: Was it you?

Me: No. It’s my writing time. I was upstairs.

Nell: Do you think David could have moved it himself?

Me: Definitely not. He doesn’t have a devious bone in his body. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Whoever did it needs to own up.

Me: Why? Just let him enjoy his victory, Nell.

Nell: It’s a false victory.

Me: It’s Christmas and if it makes him happy then let it be.

Nell: It’s also Carols at Sunday Songs. I hope you’ve been practising your solo.

Me: My what?

Nell: Everyone is very excited to hear your harmonies..

Me: Nobody told me about it.

Nell: Stay off the mulled wine until it’s over, please. Last year one of the Welsh Corgi Choir had to be escorted from the field after over indulging.

Me: What am I supposed to be singing?

Nell: ‘Bark the Herald Angels Sing’, of course. Do keep up.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Sea sunsets are simply sensational.

Nell: Can’t you just say they’re lovely like everyone else does?

Me: It’s almost as if the angels are shining a light down on us all.

Nell: Here we go again.

Me: Or the Guardians are holding candles to show us they’re watching over us.

Nell: They’re definitely doing that. Poppy’s lists are getting longer and longer.

Me: It must be hard for her not to be actively involved in Christmas. She was always such a doer.

Nell: She still is. She’s busy organising a Guardian Christmas Party as we speak.

Me: Really?

Nell: Yes. Mutley and those of his swing band who are available, are performing.

Me: How wonderful.

Nell: If you listen really carefully you might hear them.

Me: I will.

Nell: Back in the real world, Stephen Seagull has invited himself to Christmas dinner.

Me: He can’t do that.

Nell: He says Christmas is a time of goodwill to all birds.

Me: He means men.

Nell: He does not. He wants to sit next to Miss Penny Lane.

Me: It’s not a time of goodwill to all lions, in case you were wondering.

Nell: Are you suggesting we leave Lionel King all alone on the island?

Me: Yes. And he won’t be alone. He lives in a 5 star hotel.

Nell: Roary will want his father there.

Me: I suppose you’ll be sitting with Knitwear Wolf on one side and Lionel on the other?

Nell: I have no idea where I’m sitting. The Cat and I still need to draw up the seating plan.

Me: Put me at the other end of the table then.

Nell: Even if it means you’re far away from me?

Me: I can’t be far away from you, Nell.

Nell: I thought not.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Doesn’t Bushy Martin look amazing?

Nell: That’s one word for him.

Me: All dressed up and ready to party.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Unlike you.

Nell: Watching someone decorate a tree is exhausting.

Me: Dave helped.

Nell: David loves carrying things around in his mouth.

Me: He’s such a helpful Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Do we need that many photos of a tree?

Me: Someone asked what we put at the top of the tree and I found it quite hard to describe.

Nell: It’s a unicorn mouse with wings in a pink fluffy dress. What’s difficult about that?

Me: Well, now you say it.

Nell: Exactly.

Me: I thought a close up might help.

Nell: At least there don’t appear to be any squirrels inside and if there are any they’re keeping a low profile.

Me: For now.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Nothing?

Nell: Now, Poppy wants to know if you’ve managed to organise everything for the Christmas trifle?

Me: Not everything because some things have to be bought at the last minute.

Nell: But most of it?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Good. And you will be following your mother’s recipe?

Me: As much as I can.

Nell: What does that mean?

Me: She used tinned raspberries and I’m using fresh ones.

Nell: Why?

Me: They’re nicer and you can’t get tinned raspberries anymore.

Nell: Fair enough. Is Herr Hoffmann watching television again?

Me: He’s fallen in love with the cooking programmes. Bless him.

Nell: He’s got a crush on Beary Merry. He watches everything she’s in.

Me: They’re of a similar age, Nell.

Nell: We need him in the kitchen.

Me: Christmas is about relaxing. Let him be.

Nell: Do you realise how long Poppy’s list of Things To Do is today?

Me: No. Sorry.

Nell: What on earth is that?

Me: It’s our Christmas tree.

Nell: It’s completely wild.

Me: Yeah, man.

Nell: Not wild like that.

Me: It is rather bushy.

Nell: Bushy? It’s out of control.

Me: Kev and I love it. It’s like my hair when we go to the sea.

Nell: I’m not sure there’s any room for decorations.

Me: Of course there’s room.

Nell: There could be something living in that tree and you wouldn’t know.

Me: The more the merrier.

Nell: I don’t want squirrels in the living room.

Me: Do stop. Bushy Martin is going to look wonderful once he’s decorated.

Nell: Bushy Martin?

Me: He has to have a name.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Dave seems mesmerised.

Nell: David has stolen a tea towel again. I don’t think we have any left without holes in them.

Me: It’s a Labrador thing. He can’t help himself.

Nell: He jolly well can.

Me: He means well, Nell.

Nell: That animal can do no wrong in your eyes.

Me: He’s my darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Anyway, Lucy and Snoopy have been in touch.

Me: Was it about Indiana Bones and the Raiders of the Lost Bark?

Nell: That’s on hold at the moment. Shel and Theresa want a zoom meeting with you and Kev next week about the animation.

Me: I hope it’s good news. I know we haven’t reached our target but we’ve done awfully well.

Nell: Yes, we have.

Me: I know they have been to lots of important meetings recently.

Nell: Yes, they have been doing their very best to move things along.

Me: Maybe the animation will actually happen? Maybe we can get the pilot made?

Nell: Stop getting ahead of yourself. Let’s hear what they have to say first.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Look at darling Harriet. She’s such a thoughtful little thing.

Nell: She’s been busy working out roasting times for the turkey with Herr Hoffmann.

Me: Isn’t that a bit early? Christmas Day isn’t until the 25th.

Nell: Not according to Poppy. She wants a plan in place at least 10 days before the actual day.

Me: Being a Guardian hasn’t made her less bossy, has it?

Nell: Not in the slightest. The other Guardians are in for quite a shock.

Me: Shouldn’t Dave be the one working out the cooking times? He’s the sous chef and has Poppy’s recipe book.

Nell: David finds numbers overwhelming. If it’s more than four he’s completely out of his depth.

Me: Why four?

Nell: Four paws. Do keep up.

Me: Of course.

Nell: Harriet’s far more practical. She likes to plan.

Me: My darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy isn’t much of a planner. He’s more of a spontaneous sort of animal.

Nell: Herr Hoffmann thinks David should concentrate on perfecting the Yorkshire puddings and the gravy.

Me: Do Yorkshire puddings go with turkey?

Nell: Yorkshire puddings go with anything.

Me: I’m not sure Dave and gravy go together, Nell. There’s a huge danger of eating by mistake.

Nell: He’s determined not to let that happen this year.

Me: I’m not holding my breath.

Nell: Poppy’s plan allows for backup gravy so all will be well.

Me: Sometimes it’s the mistakes we remember most fondly.

Nell: Really?

Me: One Christmas when I was a child my mother served deliciously rich soup for starters and it wasn’t until she found the soup saucepan was full that she realised she’d given us the gravy instead.

Nell: Very funny, but let’s not serve soup as a starter even if it is a fond memory.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Natalie was a real delight, wasn’t she? Dave and Harriet adored her.

Nell: I’m afraid they both threw themselves at her in a most undignified manner.

Me: She loves dogs so she was absolutely fine with it.

Nell: She was certainly extremely patient.

Me: Dave was a huge hit. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: He wanted to be in all the photos.

Me: I know, but she explained why he couldn’t be and gave him extra cuddles.

Nell: That animal has far too many cuddles for his own good.

Me: You can never have enough cuddles.

Nell: David definitely can’t. He nearly went home with Natalie, you know?

Me: Yes, I heard her tell him she would love to take him with her but we might not be very happy about it.

Nell: Would you care to explain why I had to share my bed with the Stuffed Tiger?

Me: It couldn’t be in the photos either, Nell.

Nell: Neither could Gladys and the llamas but you didn’t see them stealing my bed.

Me: They were outside in the field.

Nell: Anyway, at least it’s all done and dusted.

Me: Well, that part is.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: Now it all goes online and to print and the viewings begin.

Nell: Viewings?

Me: People need to see the house. You know that.

Nell: I’m not spending my last Christmas here with strangers.

Me: There won’t be any viewings over actual Christmas. Don’t worry. Although, if someone was desperate to see it we might agree.

Nell: I won’t.

Nell: At least we’ve finally got our Christmas tree.

Me: We’re going to decorate it today.

Nell: Don’t let David anywhere near the tinsel.

Me: Why?

Nell: He got himself completely tangled up last time. Remember?

Me: Yes. Sorry.