Me: Nigel is doing it now.

Nell: Doing what?

Me: Looking out for snakes. I can see he’s scared. Is that dreadful guest speaker snake slithering around somewhere?

Nell: Sally says Cicely Sissinghurst is seldom seen on a Saturday.

Me: Is she busy selling seashells on the seashore?

Nell: Why bring shells into this?

Me: Never mind.

Nell: Saturdays are Cicely’s Sundays.

Me: Does she sing songs followed by a roast dinner?

Nell: No. Saturday is her day of rest.

Me: How does Sally know all this?

Nell: Sally is head of MI5. It’s her business to know everything.

Me: I’d like to be the head of the Secret Service.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: I’d wear a long trench coat, a beret and dark glasses.

Nell: It’s the Secret Service, not the French Resistance.

Me: And on cold days I’d wear my all-encasing hat.

Nell: You most certainly wouldn’t. David chewed the front of it, for a start.

Me: A chewed hat doesn’t matter if you can carry it off with panache.

Nell: Good grief. Could we get back to reality?Beauregard has asked if he, Roary and Mrs King could stay with us tonight.

Me: Why?

Nell: Henry and Horst have reason to believe there are snakes resting in the Tree House.

Me: And you’re telling me this now?

Nell: I didn’t have the chance before.

Me: I thought Sally said Cicely seldom strays on a Saturday.

Nell: Cicely is seldom seen but she’s certainly not a solitary slitherer.

Me: Not a solitary slitherer? Does that mean there are more?

Nell: All I can say is keep your eyes open for any suspicious slithering.

Me: I’m keeping my eyes firmly shut, thank you.

Nell: Just get off the table, please. You look ridiculous up there.

Me: I can’t. Sorry.

Me: Is there any particular reason why you dogs are watching the floor?

Nell: It’s Black Friday.

Me: I know. The Cuddle Nells have been reduced by 20%.

Nell: Good.

Me: The link is https://www.canterburybears.com/products/conversations-with-nell-handmade-dog.

Nell: Buy a Cuddle Nell for Christmas.

Me: Exactly. The perfect Christmas present. You’re still looking at the floor.

Nell: Of course we are. Weren’t you listening to me when I came back from afternoon tea at the Thurlestone Hotel?

Me: Not really. My mind was on other things.

Nell: It’s not only rooks and Beefies attending today’s conference.

Me: If you’re going to tell me it’s spiders I’m climbing on a chair right now.

Nell: Spiders?

Me: The way Harriet’s looking at the floor is exactly the way she looks when she’s seen a spider.

Nell: I can see what you mean.

Me: Is it spiders?

Nell: No. Although they’re probably around. Spiders enjoy the warmth of an open fire as much as anyone.

Me: Just tell me.

Nell: The NOIR confence has a very worrying guest speaker.

Me: Sven Gully?

Nell: Much worse.

Me: Who is it?

Nell: Cicely Sissinghurst.

Me: Cicely Sissinghurst?

Nell: That’s her name.

Me: From Kent?

Nell: I’ve no idea but she’s a snake.

Me: That’s a bit harsh, Nell.

Nell: A real snake.

Me: You obviously don’t like her.

Nell: A slithering poisonous snake.

Me: Are you saying Cicely Sissinghurst is an actual snake?

Nell: A spitting cobra to be exact.

Me: We had one of those in the coal shed in Africa. Terrifying thing.

Nell: Never mind Africa. Cicely’s here and we’ve reason to believe she’s not alone.

Me: When you say ‘here’ you don’t mean right here, do you?

Nell: Why do you think we’re looking at the floor?

Me: Then I’m out of here. Sorry.

Me: Nice hat. Any particular reason why you’re wearing it?

Nell: It’s Thanksgiving in the United States and I’m supporting our friends over there and Babycakes Gillespie by looking smart.

Me: Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I’m not sure pink is a Thanksgiving colour.

Nell: Our dear departed Queen loved this hat.

Me: I see.

Nell: She had a couple of similar hats herself.

Me: I remember.

Nell: We shared a great deal, the Queen and I.

Me: Including several afternoon teas.

Nell: Buckingham Palace provides an excellent tea.

Me: Paddington says The Queen always carried a marmalade sandwich in her handbag. Just in case.

Nell: Paddington says a lot.

Me: He’s adorable.

Nell: Talking of bears, Herr Hoffmann is roasting a turkey for lunch.

Me: How exciting.

Nell: And serving it with stuffing, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, green bean casserole, sweet potatoes, gravy, and pumpkin pie for dessert.

Me: Goodness me. What is a green bean casserole?

Nell: I have no idea but I believe it’s made with tinned mushroom soup.

Me: Interesting.

Nell: I’m afraid the llamas are over excited about Thanksgiving. They’ve been cartwheeling since dawn.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: They’ve got grass all over their wellington boots.

Me: What about their pyjamas?

Nell: They’re wearing dungarees.

Me: Sensible.

Nell: Yes. Pyjamas are not for cold weather.

Me: Unless you’re inside and then pyjamas are perfect.

Nell: Where’s your hat?

Me: I didn’t know I had to wear one.

Nell: David wore a top hat to breakfast.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. I wonder if he keeps a marmalade sandwich underneath it like Paddington.

Nell: David is a pedigree Labrador from Oxfordshire not a lost bear from Peru.

Me: Yes.

Nell: If he keeps a sandwich under his hat it will be bacon not marmalade.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: Things never go to plan, do they?

Nell: Rarely.

Me: Yesterday Chris and I were planning a lovely lunch at the Thurlestone Hotel followed by a walk on the beach.

Nell: Not forgetting a light supper by the fire with us all later.

Me: And instead of that we had to drive him to the station a day early.

Nell: The forecast was for more rain and flooding in the night so the railways advised people travelling from the South West to London to do so at once.

Me: It was the right decision to make, but it was ever so hard to give up my precious time with him.

Nell: Our precious time. David is devastated.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: We’re all very sad.

Me: At least he’s at a hotel near the airport so he doesn’t have far to go.

Nell: Exactly. And he’s enjoying a rather splendid English breakfast.

Me: How do you know?

Nell: He sent me a photo.

Me: Typical.

Nell: And think how happy Shannon and Marvin will be to have him home again.

Me: You’re right. I wish he didn’t live so far away.

Nell: But he does, and he loves living in Canada.

Me: Yes. He’s happy and that really is all that matters.

Nell: Now, because your plans changed you never got to the Thurlestone Hotel.

Me: No, I didn’t.

Nell: So Harriet and I are going instead.

Me: What about me and David?

Nell: I’m sorry but I simply can’t have you crying into your afternoon tea. It won’t do at all.

Me: Afternoon tea?

Nell: Yes. One is far more likely to bump into a rook over tea.

Me: And it happens to be your favourite thing.

Nell: What are you implying?

Me: Nothing. Sorry.

Me: I love the photo Chris took of you and me walking to the beach. It’s so us.

Nell: It was hailing.

Me: I know, but then the sun came out and everything was sparkling.

Nell: It was beautiful.

Me: And you walked really well. The best in ages.

Nell: I enjoyed it.

Me: The kite surfers are always a joy to watch. The way they float up into the sky.

Nell: Don’t even think about it.

Me: I just like the idea.

Nell: Keep your feet firmly on the sand.

Me: I’ll do my best.

Nell: Not that you will, of course. You’ve far too much imagination for your own good.

Me: I’ve heard that before.

Nell: At the first chance you’ll be floating off somewhere.

Me: It must be wonderful to be a bird.

Nell: And there we go.

Me: Gliding along with the wind beneath your wings.

Nell: Talking of birds, they are definitely gathering.

Me: Who?

Nell: The rooks.

Me: Where?

Nell: The Thurlestone Hotel.

Me: What?

Nell: They’re having a conference at the Thurlestone Hotel on Black Friday.

Me: Chris and I were going to go there for lunch. It’s his last day in Devon.

Nell: Well, see if you can find out anything.

Me: Shall I wear my all-encasing hat?

Nell: Definitely not.

Me: What about a wire?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: In case I interview a rook.

Nell: All you need to do is have a little look around.

Me: How do you even start a conversation with a rook?

Nell: How’s your French?

Me: Awful, but my German is good.

Nell: Most of them are French.

Me: NOIR is the Notorious Organisation of International Rooks so some of them must be German.

Nell: Just observe. Don’t engage.

Me: Ok. Sorry.

Me: Thank goodness the wind and rain have finally stopped. Chris might even have a little sunshine before he leaves. He’s been so unlucky with the weather.

Nell: Could you keep your voice down, please? David is still sleeping.

Me: Why is he so tired?

Nell: He had a bad night.

Me: Did the storm keep him awake?

Nell: No. He couldn’t sleep for worry. He heard there’s going to be a Black Friday.

Me: That just means prices are reduced before Christmas.

Nell: I know.

Me: Canterbury Bears are reducing the price of the Cuddle Nells from today until 2nd December. Did you tell him?

Nell: We already have a Cuddle Nell.

Me: No. I mean did you explain about Black Friday?

Nell: Of course I did. He doesn’t believe me.

Me: What does he think it is?

Nell: He thinks NOIR are coming to steal the bacon.

Me: The Notorious Organisation of International Rooks?

Nell: Yes.

Me: They don’t care about bacon, or do they?

Nell: The Beefies eat it.

Me: The Beefies eat anything.

Nell: David says living in a baconless world would be a Very Sad Thing indeed.

Me: It would, but where has he got this idea from?

Nell: My friend Dorothy says word on the street is NOIR are planning something.

Me: On Black Friday? With bacon?

Nell: David put two and two together.

Me: So this is all nonsense. Dorothy should stop spreading rumours.

Nell: Well, Sally is coming down for the weekend.

Me: How lovely. Dave will be excited.

Nell: She’s arriving on Friday.

Me: She usually does.

Nell: On Black Friday to be exact.

Me: And?

Nell: Sally never goes anywhere without a reason.

Me: She’s coming to visit her darling Davey.

Nell: She’s also the head of MI5.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Nigel looks worried.

Nell: He’s had a restless night.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: The wind kept him awake.

Me: He shouldn’t have eaten that cabbage.

Nell: I’m talking about the storm.

Me: Just joking. It kept me awake, too.

Nell: I hope your sister’s feeling a little better.

Me: So do I. This weather isn’t the nicest when you’ve got a nasty cold.

Nell: Sunday Songs is happening inside for obvious reasons.

Me: Do we have enough room?

Nell: The Welsh corgi choir cannot be expected to perform in these conditions. Rupert collected a couple of them this morning and they’re having toast and marmalade in front of the fire as we speak.

Me: No boiled eggs?

Nell: David ate them by mistake.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: He was unaware they were meant for our visitors.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. He must be feeling awful.

Nell: After four boiled eggs he should be. Moving on, the llamas’ tent blew away.

Me: What?

Nell: Fortunately they were in their sleeping bags but it was a terrible shock.

Me: That’s dreadful. Poor things.

Nell: Olive the Other Reindeer has taken them in at The Barn.

Me: How kind.

Nell: We were discussing their predicament at Morning Thoughts and the general consensus is they’re going to have to become Inside Llamas for the time being.

Me: I agree.

Nell: Tents are for warmer weather.

Me: And less windy times.

Nell: Quite.

Me: Can Inside Llamas still cartwheel?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous. Cartwheeling and Gliding is only allowed outside.

Me: Do Inside Llamas become Outside Llamas when they go outside?

Nell: Do you think you could stop asking ridiculous questions and let me get on with things? We have a house full of visitors, in case you haven’t noticed.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Why are you looking at me like that?

Nell: You were very loud when you came home last night.

Me: We’d had a lovely evening with Chris at the pub.

Nell: It wasn’t enough to leave us alone all day. You did it again all evening

Me: It wasn’t all day.

Nell: How is the little cottage in the middle of nowhere?

Me: It’s tired and cold, Nell. It desperately needs some love.

Nell: Did Chris like it?

Me: Yes. He really loved the garden. The views are wonderful.

Nell: I’m glad.

Me: Goodness me. Storm Bert is really raging out there. I can’t see any walks happening today.

Nell: I don’t think Bert is an appropriate name for a storm.

Me: I agree. It should be something like Blaze, or Brian.

Nell: Brian?

Me: After Brian Blessed the actor. He’d make a very good storm.

Nell: I worry about you sometimes.

Me: Charlotte and Nigel are going to have to drive very carefully.

Nell: Why are they driving at all?

Me: They’re coming to see Chris and eat meatballs.

Nell: Swedish meatballs?

Me: Yes. They’re Chris’s favourite.

Nell: We only just had them.

Me: It was two weeks ago.

Nell: Are they staying over?

Me: Yes. The spare room is full of boxes so Charlotte might have to sleep on the sofa.

Nell: Your sister is in her sixties. She needs a bed.

Me: The sofas turn into beds.

Nell: This is all wrong. Storms called Bert and sisters on sofas.

Me: We’ll have some family time. Kev will light a fire and we can all hunker down.

Nell: We could play a game.

Me: Yes. As long as it’s not Twister.

Nell: Twister? We’re mature ladies, not teenagers. I was thinking of Monopoly.

Me: Of course. Sorry.

Me: Can we talk about yesterday and the orchard?

Nell: If we must.

Me: You sat under a tree. It was freezing cold.

Nell: Why were we there in the first place?

Me: It had finally stopped snowing, so Chris and I thought we’d pop over to the orchard with you all before dinner.

Nell: I didn’t want to pop anywhere.

Me: I know that now.

Nell: I was perfectly happy in front of the fire.

Me: So was I, but it’s always good to stretch your legs.

Nell: Is it?

Me: Yes. Especially after bacon sandwiches and before a big roast.

Nell: BBC Radio Devon specifically told everyone to keep off the roads.

Me: We just walked over to the orchard.

Nell: I came with you.

Me: You sat down under a tree.

Nell: Where else was I going to sit? It’s an orchard. There are trees everywhere.

Me: It was far too cold to sit around, Nell. You needed to keep on the move.

Nell: What I needed was to finish my book in front of the fire with a nice cup of Earl Grey.

Me: We weren’t out for very long.

Nell: Moving on, Chris tells me you’re taking him to see the little cottage in the middle of nowhere today.

Me: We are.

Nell: It’s not going to be happy with you.

Me: Why?

Nell: Sending in surveyors to criticise it all the time.

Me: I don’t have a choice.

Nell: Leaving it all alone in the cold.

Me: We’re doing our best, Nell.

Nell: It’s been alone for far too long.

Me: I know.

Nell: It needs to be a home again.

Me: Yes.

Nell: I should be going with you.

Me: It’s too cold, Nell. You’re better off inside.

Nell: Like yesterday?

Me: Sorry.

Me: Isn’t it wonderful to have Chris home again?

Nell: He needs to be shared.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: David isn’t letting anyone else have a cuddle.

Me: That’s not true.

Nell: Yes, it is. Ask Harriet.

Me: You know what Dave’s like.

Nell: It’s no excuse. Chris is for everyone.

Me: I saw you having lots of cuddles.

Nell: He’s my boy.

Me: Harriet lost her voice with happiness when he arrived. She could only squeak.

Nell: He looked after her when she was a tiny puppy. She’s never forgotten that.

Me: Dave was never a tiny puppy. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: He has to learn to share.

Me: You’re right.

Nell: He can’t just climb on top of people.

Me: No.

Nell: Why are you smiling?

Me: Because I’m happy. It’s so lovely to have Chris home again.

Nell: Now, as you know Herr Hoffmann is cooking a Thursday roast.

Me: Roast beef with all the trimmings.

Nell: Thursdays aren’t usually roast days.

Me: No.

Nell: But we’re making an exception.

Me: We are.

Nell: Because Chris loves a roast.

Me: We all do.

Nell: And after so long away from home, Chris shouldn’t have to wait until Sunday.

Me: Yes.

Nell: So, the Welsh Corgi Choir thought Thursday Songs might be a good idea.

Me: What?

Nell: With bacon sandwiches all round.

Me: All round?

Nell: You can’t leave anyone out,

Me: We’re going to be ‘all round’ if this goes on.

Nell: Bacon is meant to be shared.

Me: Not on a Thursday.

Nell: You’re not going to begrudge those poor little rain-soaked corgis a bite of bacon, are you?

Me: Rain-soaked?

Nell: Look outside. We’ve booked you in for second sitting.

Me: Second sitting?

Nell: Sharing is caring.

Me: Yes. Sorry.