Nell: Bonjour. Is that your sister Charlotte’s garden?
Me: Yes.
Nell: And there’s her daughter Scarlett and a strange boy.
Me: He’s not a strange boy. He’s Scarlett’s boyfriend Kaspar.
Nell: Naughty Nigel appears to be sitting in a paddling pool.
Me: He was supervising the filling of the pool for Jonathan and Faye.
Nell: We test the water by drinking.
Me: I thought you were just thirsty.
Nell: Why didn’t you tell me you were going to see Charlotte?
Me: I thought you knew.
Nell: I’m the head of the family. I should have been there.
Me: I’m not sure you can call yourself that.
Nell: I just did.
Me: There’s no need to be jealous as they’re all coming here on Tuesday evening.
Nell: Herr Hoffmann will have to cook Swedish meatballs.
Me: Why?
Nell: They’re Scarlett’s favourite.
Me: Don’t tell him that now as he’s probably busy preparing the Sunday roast.
Nell: He and Manuel are still on breakfast duty. They’ve been flipping pancakes for hours.
Me: Can I have one?
Nell: You’ll have to wait your turn. Performers first.
Me: Performers?
Nell: Didn’t you notice the queue of corgis?
Me: I did wonder.
Nell: The Welsh Corgi Choir have a particularly challenging repertoire at Sunday Songs today so Frau Hoffmann suggested pancakes might help.
Me: Why?
Nell: They’re light and filling with a French flair.
Me: French?
Nell: Sunday Songs is in French this morning in honour of the Paris Olympics.
Me: I hope we’re still having roast beef and all the trimmings.
Nell: You mean ‘rosbif’. Where’s your beret?
Me: I don’t have one.
Nell: Never mind. David has a spare one in case of emergencies.
Me: What if it’s full of bacon?
Nell: Any bacon will be a distant memory.
Me: Of course. Sorry.
