Me: Look at the photos our friend Sylvia sent me of young you with Monty and Mutley.
Nell: It’s good to see the two boys again.
Me: Yes, you were about six months old there and not much bigger than Mutley.
Nell: I was very young.
Me: We were running a radio station in Oxfordshire and working with musicians and they gave you one of their guitars to hold.
Nell: I can’t play the guitar.
Me: I know, it was just for fun. They adored you. Everyone does.
Nell: Most kind. It was thoughtful of Nigel to wear a bow tie yesterday.
Me: It was. He looked awfully dashing.
Nell: My friend Dorothy asked me to send her a photo.
Me: Are they still an item?
Nell: That is none of your business.
Me: Just asking. Dorothy wouldn’t want a photo if they weren’t, unless she is pining for him.
Nell: Good grief. Stop turning this into a three act play.
Me: Herr Hoffmann wanted to know if a salady lunch is acceptable as the kitchen is full of boxes.
Nell: I can cope with a cold lunch but I don’t want a cold dinner. It is my birthday weekend.
Me: He’s making goulash for dinner because we can eat it out of bowls in front of the fire if necessary.
Nell: Have we packed the plates?
Me: No. The dining room table is full of boxes.
Nell: We don’t have a dining room.
Me: You know what I mean.
Nell: It seems like everywhere is full of boxes at the moment. There’s no room to breathe.
Me: I know. It’s only for a couple more weeks, Nell.
Nell: Thank goodness.
Me: We could play ‘Pass the Parcel’ later?
Nell: Very funny.
Me: Or ‘Sardines’?
Nell: Enough.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
