Me: It’s good to hear from you, Nell. I’ve been so worried. We had the most amazing sunset last night. I took a photo from the garden gate to show you.
Nell: Most kind, but I’m on the run in France from an evil organisation of international rooks so sunsets aren’t top of my agenda.
Me: Of course not.
Nell: Could you ask David to move away from the screen a little, please? All I’m getting is his nose.
Me: He just wants to be in on the conversation. He misses you.
Nell: Is he resting his head on a tray?
Me: Yes. Lionel brought me breakfast in bed. Smoked salmon and scrambled eggs. Your favourite. Dave and I shared it.
Nell: How kind of Lionel. Rupert and I shared a stale baguette by the roadside.
Me: Oh dear.
Nell: We also spent the night in a barn.
Me: How romantic.
Nell: It wasn’t. Straw is most uncomfortable.
Me: Where are you exactly?
Nell: On our way to Roscoff in Brittany.
Me: Is this the right time for a holiday?
Nell: No. We’re going to try and catch the ferry from Roscoff to Plymouth.
Me: Plymouth is only a few miles from here.
Nell: Sherlock Martin strikes again. Yes, that’s why we’re travelling down to Brittany.
Me: Are you hitchhiking?
Nell: Don’t be silly. How many people are going to stop for a Labrador and a wolf?
Me: True.
Nell: Rupert has rented a rather uncomfortable scooter. But needs must and we can only take the small roads anyway.
Me: Make sure you try the onion soup when you get to Roscoff. It’s famous for it.
Nell: Onions are dangerous for dogs and I have quite enough danger in my life at the moment as it is.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
