Me: Happy Easter.

Nell: I’m not sure about my hat.

Me: You look lovely, Nell.

Nell: It’s a little too pink. Harriet’s is much more fetching.

Me: You both look adorable.

Nell: What about David’s crown? He says the Champion of Champions is allowed to wear one.

Me: It’s not exactly an Easter bonnet but he looks magnificent.

Nell: I don’t know what Mottram Dimbleby is going to say.

Me: Dave can take it off at lunch.

Nell: Have you looked outside?

Me: Not yet.

Nell: There are bonneted corgis everywhere.

Me: Wonderful. There’s nothing I like more than a bonneted corgi.

Nell: What about a bonneted llama?

Me: Are they wearing bonnets, too?

Nell: Yes. It’s ridiculous. I can only just about cope with a llama in a top hat.

Me: Each to their own.

Nell: It’s better than wearing a bowl of fruit on your head, I suppose.

Me: A bowl of fruit?

Nell: Gladys is dressed as Carmen Miranda.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Quite. And I thought I’d seen it all.

Me: Sunday Songs is going to be fun.

Nell: Poppy wants to know if anyone has seen the Easter Terrier.

Me: She means bunny.

Nell: She does not. The Easter Terrier boxes the Easter Bunny’s ears so there will be no sign of him around here.

Me: Well, someone gave me an Easter egg.

Nell: Just keep it safely hidden away. Chocolate is dangerous for dogs and we don’t want David eating it by mistake.

Me: No.

Nell: Herr Hoffmann’s made boiled eggs for everyone with little faces drawn on them and there’s a mountain of hot buttered toast.

Me: Lovely.

Nell: So, put on your bonnet and come downstairs, or those eggs will get cold and we’ll have nowhere to dip our soldiers.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: David climbed straight onto the Winners Podium again. Even though you said he wasn’t the Champion of Champions.

Me: It’s just a bit of fun.

Nell: When I told him to get off, he smiled blatantly at the camera.

Me: I know. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: And all Harriet could do was throw her legs in the air.

Me: She was just doing her happy back twirl. I don’t know why you had to glare at Dave like that.

Nell: David is becoming an Attention Seeker.

Me: He’s always loved the limelight.

Nell: All that pampering is going to his head.

Me: Are you talking about Herr Hoffmann?

Nell: Steak sandwiches are for Christmas and birthdays.

Me: Yes, they are, usually.

Nell: Bacon is perfectly acceptable for a weekend.

Me: It is Easter weekend and I think Herr Hoffmann’s made steak sandwiches for all three of you.

Nell: Oh, I didn’t know.

Me: Dave asked that you and Harriet be included.

Nell: I see.

Me: I’m only having a boiled egg and soldiers.

Nell: Needs must.

Me: What does that mean?

Nell: It is what it is.

Me: You weren’t saying that a moment ago.

Nell: Just go with the flow.

Me: Funny how a steak sandwich can change your whole mood.

Nell: Moving on, I’ve invited Mottram Dimbleby to lunch tomorrow. It’s Easter and he’s at a loose end.

Me: Do otters eat Sunday roast?

Nell: Lionel will prepare a seafood platter.

Me: You’d think Mottram would want to be with his family. Why is he still here?

Nell: His meeting with the Beefies was most unsatisfactory.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: There was a lot of screeching and mackerel was thrown.

Me: What about the Beefies? Did they join in too?

Nell: Very funny.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Dave looks exhausted.

Nell: Being the Champion of Champions is extremely tiring.

Me: I don’t know why you keep calling him that.

Nell: It’s sequinned onto his hat.

Me: What hat?

Nell: The one he’s wearing to the Winners Tea on Sunday.

Me: You mean the Easter Bonnet Parade?

Nell: Don’t talk to me about bonnets. There are corgis in bonnets everywhere I look nowadays.

Me: Are you talking about the Welsh Corgi Choir?

Nell: Obviously. They’re all up at the Big House having their bonnets trimmed by The Cat.

Me: What does trimming actually mean?

Nell: It involves satin and lace. Anyway, you won’t be seeing me in a bonnet. I had my fair share of that when I was matron at a large hospital.

Me: I’m not even going to ask.

Nell: Good. Now, my friend Dorothy says there’s been some trouble at the Cottage Hotel.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: Mottram Dimbleby was spotted walking along the terrace.

Me: Is he one of the Dimbleby brothers? I only know of Jonathan, David and Richard. Although there might be a Nicholas.

Nell: Are they otters?

Me: What an odd question.

Nell: Mottram is one of the Dimbleby otters and he wasn’t supposed to be at the Cottage Hotel.

Me: I don’t suppose he was.

Nell: He caused quite an uproar amongst the guests.

Me: I expect he did. I mean you don’t expect to see an otter at a hotel.

Nell: He shouldn’t have been up there.

Me: Poor thing. He’d probably lost his way.

Nell: His meeting was down at the harbour.

Me: His meeting?

Nell: You’re doing that repeating thing again.

Me: What meeting?

Nell: With the Beefies about the missing mackerel.

Me: Why?

Nell: He’s Minister for Fisheries. Do keep up.

Me: I see. Sorry.

Me: What strange weather we’re having.

Nell: I agree. It’s supposed to be Spring.

Me: I always love it when the beach is deserted but the sky was extremely ominous.

Nell: That’s why Kev didn’t want us to stay too long. He could see the bad weather was on its way.

Me: It didn’t stop Harriet from going swimming.

Nell: Nothing can do that.

Me: The hailstorm was so loud.

Nell: Yes. I was listening to a rather interesting podcast at the time and could hardly hear a thing.

Me: I didn’t know you listened to podcasts.

Nell: There’s a lot you don’t know.

Me: Is that why you put on headphones?

Nell: Sherlock Martin strikes again. Yes, I borrowed David’s so I could continue listening.

Me: I didn’t know Dave listened to podcasts.

Nell: David prefers music to the spoken word.

Me: Where is he?

Nell: The Champion of Champions is enjoying a steak sandwich in the kitchen.

Me: A steak sandwich?

Nell: Apparently Champions need protein.

Me: You know he isn’t the Champion of Champions.

Nell: He thinks he is. And more to the point, so does Herr Hoffmann.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: He calls David his ‘Luffly Little Shampion’.

Me: Dave isn’t little.

Nell: He is to a bear.

Me: Well, I think it’s sweet the way Herr Hoffmann looks after Dave.

Nell: He’s wrapped him in your heated blanket.

Me: But that’s mine. Kev gave it to me. I was looking forward to curling up in it with a book.

Nell: All I’m saying is David asked for tomato ketchup on his sandwich.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: And we know what a messy eater he is.

Me: I need to get my blanket back right now.

Nell: Not such a ‘Luffly Little Champion’ anymore?

Me: No. Sorry.

Nell: Why is David the Champion of Champions?

Me: He isn’t.

Nell: Harriet is much better at Retrieving and I walked through those poles.

Me: You didn’t, Nell. You walked near the poles on your Sniffari.

Nell: Same thing.

Me: None of you ever do any of the activities in the Activity Field.

Nell: David shouldn’t have climbed onto the Winners Podium.

Me: I thought he looked adorable. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: You know he’s expecting a gold medal?

Me: Nonsense.

Nell: I heard him talking to Sally on WoofsApp.

Me: You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.

Nell: David’s already the Mayor of Kingsbridge. He has no need to be the Champion of Champions.

Me: He isn’t.

Nell: There must be hundreds of willing whippets and keen collies more deserving than David.

Me: It’s just a misunderstanding.

Nell: There’s even talk of a cake and sandwiches. Crusts off.

Me: When?

Nell: At the Winners Tea.

Me: What Winners Tea?

Nell: The one in the field. Everyone’s invited.

Me: It’s news to me. When’s it taking place?

Nell: On Easter Sunday and we’ve all got to wear hats. Ask The Cat.

Me: That’s Easter Sunday Tea. It has nothing to do with winners.

Nell: What about Best Hat?

Me: Well, there’s always a prize for Best Hat at Easter.

Nell: I knew it.

Me: Best Hat isn’t Champion of Champions.

Nell: David thinks it is.

Me: We haven’t even seen his hat yet.

Nell: There’s no need. It’s obviously a foregone conclusion.

Me: The judges will decide who wins on the day.

Nell: Who are the judges?

Me: I think the Mayor of Kingsbridge is usually one of them.

Nell: There you are.

Me: Dave can’t vote for himself.

Nell: Has anyone told him that?

Me: I don’t know. Sorry.

Me: Today we wanted to start by talking about a very special dog called Miss Emily.

Nell: Yes.

Me: Emily was a beautiful chocolate Labrador we loved from afar who left this world yesterday.

Nell: Our dear friend Janet Mason had to make the difficult decision to say goodbye to her and now she’s watching over Janet as a Guardian.

Me: As everyone will understand, Janet’s heart is broken.

Nell: So Poppy has asked me to let Janet know that Miss Em is with her sister Utsire and keeping an eye on things.

Me: And we are sending Janet lots of love and the strength to get through this.

Nell: Which she will.

Me: Even if it doesn’t feel like that at the moment.

Nell: Now, I don’t know about you but I feel the need for a cup of Earl Grey.

Me: I agree.

Nell: And one of Herr Hoffmann’s freshly baked rolls with farmhouse butter and honey.

Me: Sounds perfect. Do we know how Lionel is doing?

Nell: If you go down to the kitchen, you’ll see.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: His mane has been washed and combed and he’s wearing a clean apron.

Me: Has Herr Hoffmann taken him under his wing?

Nell: Herr Hoffmann is a bear not a bird, but yes, he has. Lionel was up at 6am this morning learning how to bake bread.

Me: Excellent.

Nell: Sometimes the only way to find yourself again is to keep busy.

Me: And Lionel loves cooking.

Nell: Exactly.

Me: We did the right thing bringing him home, didn’t we?

Nell: Yes.

Me: I’m so very sad about the loss of Miss Em.

Nell: Poppy will keep an eye on her and so will Utsire. It’s Janet we need to comfort now.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I’m very glad we’re home. There were times on the journey back when I thought we’d never get there.

Nell: Much as I enjoyed the view, I’m never riding a horse again. Even with a padded saddle.

Me: There was nothing else to be done, Nell. Lionel was too weak to walk so he had to go in Rupert’s sidecar.

Nell: I don’t see why The Cat had to join us again.

Me: Neither do I.

Nell: The feathered hat was amusing at first but it obscured my view.

Me: I enjoyed cuddling you. It’s the longest we’ve been snuggled together.

Nell: I know.

Me: It was lovely of the Welsh Corgi Choir to welcome us back.

Nell: A corgi will never turn down the chance of a roast potato.

Me: It was thoughtful of Herr Hoffmann to make extra for them.

Nell: I shall need time to recover from that journey.

Me: We all will. Especially Lionel. I must admit I was shocked when I saw him.

Nell: He’s in a bad way.

Me: Did he spend the night in The Barn with the larger animals?

Nell: No. Roary insisted on taking him back to the Tree House.

Me: What did Beauregard and Mrs King think about that?

Nell: When they saw the state Lionel was in, they had to agree.

Me: Well, everyone certainly listened to your advice.

Nell: What advice?

Me: ‘If you can be anything, be kind’.

Nell: Oh yes. Although, it would have been kinder to have put Lionel in the cart.

Me: You can’t expect Dave and Harriet to pull a lion as well as the luggage.

Nell: Labradors are not meant to ride horses. Especially senior ones.

Me: John Mane isn’t that old.

Nell: I meant senior Labradors.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: You were up early.

Nell: I had to fetch Harriet from her morning swim. There’s been a development.

Me: What’s happened?

Nell: John Mane’s found Lionel King.

Me: How is he?

Nell: His mane’s in dreadful shape.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell; And he appears not to care.

Me: We all have bad hair days, Nell.

Nell: Lionel was always fastidious about his appearance.

Me: Did John tell him Roary’s worried?

Nell: Lionel says Roary would be better off without him.

Me: He has a point.

Nell: Well, I’m not having that kind of talk. I’m calling a meeting.

Me: Why?

Nell: I think we should take Lionel home with us.

Me: I don’t believe this.

Nell: Rupert agrees, by the way. He’s gone with John to bring Lionel here so we can stage an intervention.

Me: Count me out.

Nell: May I remind you that it is Sunday?

Me: What’s that got to do with it?

Nell: Sunday is a day of Kindness.

Me: I thought it was a day of rest.

Nell: What do I always say?

Me: Do keep up?

Nell: No. If you can be anything, be kind.

Me: But Lionel is a bad lion.

Nell: He deserves a chance.

Me: We’ve given him so many chances.

Nell: Herr Hoffmann is waiting for us all at home with a roast dinner and all the trimmings.

Me: Wait a minute. If we’re going home, does that mean I have to ride John Mane again?

Nell: You’ve done it before.

Me: I remember, and it was awful.

Nell: Stop thinking of yourself all the time. I’m worried Lionel might be too weak to make the journey.

Me: Are you telling me my entourage is now going to include a lion?

Nell: It’s Sunday. Be kind.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I’m glad the sun is shining for Chris’s birthday.

Nell: Yes.

Me: I can’t believe he’s 36.

Nell: Did you see the photos of Marvin?

Me: Yes. They’re lovely.

Nell: He’s written a poem for Chris. Would you like to hear it?

Me: I would. Very much.

Nell: I’ll read it.

‘My name is Marvin

And I have something to say.

I want to wish my dad Chris

A very Happy Birthday.

Most mornings we walk

To get coffee together

And I wear my coat

Because of the cold weather.

I don’t like it at all

But Dad says I must.

And I’m only small

So in Dad I’ll trust.

I’ll be a good boy

And make him and Mom proud

By being sweet natured

And not often loud.

Except for raccoons,

When I see one of those

I have to start barking

And bounce up on my toes

To look out of the window

And bark them away.

Cos they’re not invited

To my dad’s birthday.

I may not be bold,

Or brave, or that wise

But I know I am loved

And that in my dad’s eyes

I’m the best boy that ever

And ever could be.

So thank you, dear Dad,

For rescuing me.’

Me: What a lovely poem.

Nell: Yes, Marvin is doing really well at Creative Writing.

Me: Are you teaching him?

Nell: I always encourage the young animals in my mentoring group to express themselves creatively. Did you enjoy yesterday’s cocktails?

Me: It was great fun.

Nell: Rumour has it that a lion with a matted mane was seen lurking around the kitchen bins.

Me: Do you think it was Lionel?

Nell: I think the likelihood of there being two lions on a small island in South Devon is remote.

Me: True. Sorry.

Nell: How’s the writing going? Are you feeling inspired by your surroundings?

Me: I keep getting distracted by the view and other things.

Nell: What other things? If you mean finding Lionel King, the team are on the case.

Me: You look rather pleased with yourself.

Nell: The Cat and I just enjoyed a delicious breakfast at the hotel followed by a gentle walk on the beach.

Me: The Cat went for a walk?

Nell: No, it went back to its room for a lie down. It doesn’t do walking. I walked back alone.

Me: You did not, Nell. I saw you.

Nell: I don’t know what you think you saw, but it was all perfectly innocent and above board.

Me: And I don’t know what Knitwear Wolf is going to say when he hears about your secret rendezvous with a handsome, if elderly, stranger.

Nell: Stuff and nonsense. He isn’t a stranger. He’s Ozzy and Rupert knows all about it.

Me: Who is Ozzy?

Nell: A mature Labrador and occasional piano player up at the hotel.

Me: I knew it. You can never trust a piano player. Has he been crooning Frank Sinatra in your ear?

Nell: Certainly not. He’s arranged for us all to join him for cocktails this evening.

Me: Am I included?

Nell: Of course you are.

Me: But I don’t have anything to wear.

Nell: Yes, you do. The Cat packed a few dresses, just in case.

Me: I’m not wearing sequins, or a feather boa.

Nell: Good. You’re here as a writer not a drama queen.

Me: How do you know Ozzy?

Nell: He’s a friend of Rupert’s. They play golf occasionally.

Me: I didn’t know Knitwear Wolf played golf.

Nell: That’s not the point. You should stop jumping to conclusions.

Me: Yes. Sorry.