Me: Dave and Harriet are on alert. Dave hasn’t stopped looking out of the window. Darling boy.
Nell: Are they at the bus stop again?
Me: Yes. The beret-wearing Beefy isn’t sharing his prawns with Lady Anwen which is surprisingly rude, if you ask me.
Nell: Nobody’s going to ask you ever again.
Me: You just did.
Nell: I can’t believe the way you behaved yesterday. You’re the worst undercover spy I’ve ever had the misfortune to work with in my entire life.
Me: That’s a bit harsh.
Nell: You walked across the road to the bus stop and said ‘Hello, Lady Anwen. Mind if I wait here, too?’
Me: We needed to know if it was her.
Nell: It’s called undercover for a reason.
Me: She wasn’t very chatty. I tried to engage her in conversation several times but she wasn’t interested.
Nell: You weren’t supposed to talk to her at all.
Me: You can’t just sit next to someone at a bus stop and say nothing. It’s unfriendly.
Nell: People do it all the time.
Me: The beret-wearing Beefy is from Plymouth, by the way. He’s on his holidays here.
Nell: Good grief.
Me: I told him if he was on holiday there were much better things to do than stand at a bus stop all day.
Nell: Unbelievable.
Me: It’s true. We have some lovely beaches.
Nell: What did he say?
Me: ‘Thanks, buddy.’
Nell: I give up.
Me: I see the French rook is back.
Nell: What French rook?
Me: The one eating a baguette. He was listening to my conversation with Lady Anwen yesterday muttering ‘Zut alors!’.
Nell: We didn’t see him.
Me: He’s on the neighbours’ big bird table pretending to be a jackdaw.
Nell: Why didn’t you tell me this before?
Me: Sorry.
