Me: Is something going on upstairs?
Nell: Why are you asking?
Me: Both Harriet and Dave are looking up the stairs in a concerned way.
Nell: It definitely won’t be Frankie the escaped flamingo.
Me: I didn’t say it was.
Nell: She is still on the run.
Me: I hope they find her soon.
Nell: Flamingos may appear flimsy but they’re hardier than you think.
Me: Malcolm isn’t hardy. He’s a sensitive bird.
Nell: I know, but think of Count Bingo Flamingo and the way he can dance.
Me: You’re right. He and Gladys made quite a team.
Nell: They did.
Me: I still think something fishy is happening upstairs.
Nell: What are your thoughts on lunch today?
Me: I haven’t had any.
Nell: Would leek and potato soup suit you with one of Herr Hoffmann’s freshly baked rolls on the side spread with farmhouse butter?
Me: Lovely.
Nell: I always say homemade soup is perfect for a cold and rainy autumnal day.
Me: I agree. There’s nothing more comforting.
Nell: Quite. How about a nice slice of lemon drizzle in front of the fire later with a cup of Earl Grey?
Me: Sounds perfect.
Nell: We could ask Rupert to read to us.
Me: Yes.
Nell: It’s a time to relax and put all thoughts of flamingos out of our heads.
Me: I wasn’t thinking about flamingos.
Nell: Just saying. It’s not as if the Count and some of his comrades from the Flamingo Foreign Legion would decide to use our spare room as their headquarters.
Me: Headquarters? Why?
Nell: Exactly. It’s a ridiculous idea.
Me: Do you know something I don’t know?
Nell: I couldn’t say.
Me: Is there a flock of flamingos upstairs?
Nell: It’s not a flock. It’s a flamboyance. Do keep up.
Me: Right. Sorry.
