Me: I never realised how much Harriet missed the Stuffed Tiger.
Nell: Why is it back?
Me: The estate agents told us it had to go, but seeing as they didn’t sell the house, and we’re about to let them go, we decided to bring it back.
Nell: It’s a terrible busybody.
Me: Is it?
Nell: It listens in to everyone’s conversations and doesn’t even pretend not to.
Me: It is stuffed, Nell.
Nell: I’m surprised at Harriet. As a spy she should know better than to welcome an eavesdropping tiger back into the fold.
Me: Maybe it’s working for Sally, too?
Nell: Maybe? Stranger things have happened.
Me: Tell me about it.
Nell: Anyway, back in the real world, David has progressed to the National Finals of Best Mayor and is representing the South West.
Me: Gosh. That’s amazing. Was it the lemon drizzle cake, or his singing and dancing?
Nell: We’ll never know. A combination of all of them, I expect.
Me: Along with his devastating good looks and winning ways. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: It’s headline news in today’s Daily Growl, so I’m expecting that Afghan to turn up at any moment to take more photos and eat us out of house and home.
Me: It only had a boiled egg and you said it was hungry.
Nell: One egg leads to another. Mark my words.
Me: I hope all this fame doesn’t go to Dave’s head. It would be awful if he became all demanding and divaish.
Nell: That isn’t a word.
Me: You know what I mean.
Nell: All I can say is he’s in the kitchen now having his toenails painted by The Cat’s assistant.
Me: I didn’t know The Cat had an assistant.
Nell: That’s not the point.
Me: No. Sorry.
