Me: You won’t believe this.
Nell: I might.
Me: Harriet was waiting for something, or someone, and because it took too long, she rolled up a cushion and rested her head on it.
Nell: And then?
Me: That’s it. I thought it was really clever of her.
Nell: We are talking about the same Harriet here, aren’t we?
Me: Yes.
Nell: International spy Harriet?
Me: Yes.
Nell: Niece of Eleanor Martin, also known as Nell, matriarch of the Martin family?
Me: Matriarch is a bit strong.
Nell: It is what it is. Are you referring to wild swimmer Harriet?
Me: Of course I am.
Nell: Why would you think rolling up a cushion was anything special for a Labrador like Harriet?
Me: I don’t really know.
Nell: And more importantly, who, or what, was Harriet waiting for?
Me: I don’t know.
Nell: All in all, this has been a most unsatisfactory conversation.
Me: It started out well. You just decided to pick on me.
Nell: I’m not picking on you. I’m merely pointing out the error of your ways. There is more to life than rolling up a cushion.
Me: I didn’t roll it up. Harriet did.
Nell: Don’t start all that again. Now, I realise there is another viewing this afternoon, so I presume we are going to be thrown out of our home even though the weather forecast is predicting rain.
Me: We can’t be there when the viewing takes place.
Nell: Fine, then let’s at least go to the Cottage Hotel for a cream tea.
Me: I’m afraid arriving there for tea with three Labradors might be a bit much. Especially when one of them is a giant.
Nell: David is the Mayor of Kingsbridge. He’s welcomed with open arms wherever he goes.
Me: Of course. Sorry.
