Me: Look at my darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy with his favourite toy. Isn’t he adorable?
Nell: You sound like that Chocolate Lab.
Me: Harriet adores her brother.
Nell: Not Harriet. The Chocolate Lab from the village who’s infatuated with David.
Me: Do we know her name yet?
Nell: No, but I mean to find out.
Me: Let her be. We’ve all had infatuations.
Nell: I haven’t. There have only been two loves in my life.
Me: Charlie and Knitwear Wolf?
Nell: Yes. Charlie was my husband and my first great love and Rupert is my rock and safe place.
Me: What about Lionel King?
Nell: Lionel King?
Me: You still have a soft spot for him in spite of everything, don’t you?
Nell: I do not.
Me: I would love to think that’s true but I don’t. I can see how jealous you are of his friendship with Bobby Socks.
Nell: Absolute nonsense.
Me: You growled at them.
Nell: I did not.
Me: I heard you, Nell. It was one of your nasty growls.
Nell: They annoy me acting like a travelling circus.
Me: Anyway, my advice is to forget all about them and enjoy the weekend.
Nell: You’re right. Are you ready for pasta?
Me: Always? Why?
Nell: It’s Italian night and Manuel is making fresh pasta.
Me: But Manuel is from Barcelona.
Nell: You don’t have to come from a country to cook its food.
Me: True. Herr Hoffmann’s from Germany and he makes a wonderful roast.
Nell: There will be a choice of sauces and pasta shapes.
Me: Wonderful, although I usually find myself gravitating towards good old spaghetti bolognese.
Nell: Sometimes the old and familiar is just what you need.
Me: Like you and Rupert?
Nell: Exactly. Lionel means nothing to me.
Me: Good. Sorry.
