Nell: You’re awake late this morning.

Me: I decided to have a lie-in as it’s my birthday weekend.

Nell: Fair enough. David will bring your breakfast on a tray.

Me: Is that a good idea?

Nell: It’s bacon sandwiches so he should be able to manage. I wouldn’t have let him carry boiled eggs.

Me: Might there be some Eating by Mistake?

Nell: No, he’s allowed an extra sandwich to eat on the way upstairs so it should keep him busy. Did you enjoy yesterday?

Me: I did. Very much. Thank you to everyone for your birthday messages. The party at the pub was great fun, wasn’t it?

Nell: It was.

Me: All that singing and dancing.

Nell: Where’s Nigel this morning?

Me: He had to go home to look after Xav.

Nell: Xav the Cat?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Nigel left us to go and spend time with a cat?

Me: They’re best friends. Nigel likes to watch him eat.

Nell: Absolutely outrageous.

Me: It is a bit odd. I don’t know why you’re complaining. You don’t even like Nigel.

Nell: Abandoning family and friends to watch a cat eat.

Me: Can I just point out that your best friend is a cat?

Nell: The Cat is not A cat it is The Cat.

Me: I don’t see the difference.

Nell: Well, you should. And I would never watch The Cat eat.

Me: You Labradors will watch anyone eat.

Nell: We’re Caring and Supportive animals. What can I say?

Me: I think Nigel might be coming back, if that’s what’s worrying you?

Nell: It’s not.

Me: You’re a funny old thing about Nigel. Don’t want to be with him but can’t be without him.

Nell: I most certainly can and less of the funny old thing, please.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Happy Birthday to you.

Me: Thank you. That’s a photo of me in my wolf hat.

Nell: Don’t call it that. You’ll annoy Rupert.

Me: Knitwear Wolf doesn’t mind.

Nell: That furry hat has absolutely nothing to do with wolves.

Me: It just reminds me of one. And there we are on the photoshoot for the book.

Nell: Yes. It’s a while ago now but I thought you’d like to see it again.

Me: How can I be 67, Nell? Where did all the time go?

Nell: You say that every year.

Me: I know I do.

Nell: I’ve written you a poem.

Me: How kind of you. Can I hear it?

Nell: Yes.

‘Someone we love

Has a birthday today

And I think that you know

What I’m going to say.

That someone is Sara

Who doesn’t want any fuss

But I’m afraid she completely 

Forgot about us.

And we’re going to party

The whole day through

And all of the weekend

And on Monday too.

So sit back now Sara

And enjoy what we’ve done.

There’s candles and cake

And dancing and fun.

We wouldn’t be here

Without your Conversations

With Nell, of course,

The internet sensation.

So put on your hat

And stop feeling blue

Because. dearest Sara,

We’re celebrating you.’

Me: Thank you. That was lovely.

Nell: My pleasure.

Me: So you’re an internet sensation?

Nell: I seem to be rather popular.

Me: Everyone loves a grumpy animal.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Just saying.

Nell: Moving on, David wants to know if you’d like spaghetti bolognese for breakfast as there’s a little bit left in the Tupperware?

Me: Tempting as that is, I’m going to say no.

Nell: Fine. Pancakes it is. Put your birthday hat on. Everyone’s waiting downstairs.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: What are we going to do about Sponge Finger?

Nell: Nothing. Can’t you see David and I are trying to sleep?

Me: Have you eaten spaghetti bolognese?

Nell: No.

Me: You have, Nell. You always fall asleep on a full tummy.

Nell: I had a simple bowl of cereal.

Me: You did not. I saw Dave collect the Tupperware from the Bus Stop.

Nell: Fine. David might have shared a few Tortellini in brodo with me.

Me: What?

Nell: Beak-folded meat-stuffed tortellini served in a clear, rich broth.

Me: Beak-folded?

Nell: Stanley doesn’t have hands. He’s a seagull.

Me: Neither does Sponge Finger.

Nell: Enough of all that. We’re going to forget about spying and NOIR for a few days.

Me: Why?

Nell: Have you forgotten what tomorrow is?

Me: 30th January.

Nell: And?

Me: It’s my birthday.

Nell: Exactly. So we’re going to have a fun-filled weekend.

Me: Must we?

Nell: What?

Me: I’m not sure I want a fun-filled weekend.

Nell: We’re celebrating whether you like it or not.

Me: Couldn’t we just forget it and carry on as normal?

Nell: Carry on as normal?

Me: Yes.

Nell: When did we ever do normal?

Me: You have a point there.

Nell: Anyway, we’ve booked the pub for tomorrow night.

Me: Seriously?

Nell: There wasn’t enough room for everyone here.

Me: Everyone? Who’s coming?

Nell: Everyone. I just told you

Me: In the village?

Nell: Maybe not absolutely everyone.

Me: I’d be happy with a quiet supper in front of the fire.

Nell: Bad luck. You’re going to be partying all night.

Me: What if I don’t feel like celebrating being another year older?

Nell: You might not, but we do.

Me: Why?

Nell: Because we’re celebrating you and we love you very much.

Me: I see. Sorry.

Me: Is Dave unhappy about something?

Nell: Nigel is upstairs resting on the bunk bed in Kev’s study on a Wednesday.

Me: You wanted us to rescue him from the terrible storms.

Nell: David likes to sleep in Kev’s study during the week.

Me: There’s room for both of them.

Nell: And Nigel collected the spaghetti bolognese from the Bus Stop.

Me: Well, that explains the ‘Ciao Bella’.

Nell: To you?

Me: Yes. I must say I was a surprised to hear Nigel speaking Italian.

Nell: Was that all that surprised you?

Me: Yes. Why?

Nell: Just asking.

Me: Did Nigel share the spaghetti bolognese?

Nell: He did. With the llamas.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Quite.

Me: I can see why Dave isn’t happy. Poor starving Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: David isn’t starving. He ate two boiled eggs for breakfast and several slices of hot buttered toast.

Me: I’m afraid he’s used to an Italian breakfast.

Nell: This cannot continue.

Me: I agree. The Tupperware needs to be put in the fridge for lunch, or collected later.

Nell: It can’t be collected later, Stanley has other places to go.

Me: Do we know where?

Nell: No.

Me: I bet Harriet does. I know she’s been watching him and his Rook Friend.

Nell: Stop spying on Harriet.

Me: I can’t help it. My desk is at the window and she’s not very well disguised.

Nell: She’s not disguised at all.

Me: Exactly. Where are her sunglasses and beret?

Nell: It’s pouring with rain and she’s not French.

Me: Neither is Stanley’s Rook Friend.

Nell: How do you know?

Me: He’s the spitting image of Sponge Finger and he’s Italian.

Nell: Savoiardi? Head of NOIR?

Me: The Notorious Organisation of International Rooks.

Nell: I know who they are.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Look at the snow in Toronto.

Nell: Is that Shannon and Marvin?

Me: Yes, I’m glad Marvin’s wearing a warm coat.

Nell: He doesn’t like it.

Me: The coat, or the snow?

Nell: Both. He’d rather be at home snuggled under a warm blanket.

Me: Wouldn’t we all?

Nell: We are at home snuggled under a warm blanket.

Me: Oh yes. It’s even stopped raining and I can see the sun.

Nell: Don’t hold your breath. The rain will be back.

Me: We’ve had awful storms. The sea destroyed the beach road near Nigel and Charlotte’s house.

Nell: Why are they still there? Tell them to come over right now.

Me: It isn’t that near. It’s a few miles away. They’re quite safe.

Nell: That’s a relief.

Me: I thought you didn’t like Nigel.

Nell: He annoys me but he’s still family.

Me: I’ll remind you of that the next time he’s here.

Nell: You annoy me and I still love you.

Me: I knew it.

Nell: Of course you knew it. I’ve told you enough times.

Me: No, you haven’t.

Nell: You and me. Always. Remember?

Me: Do you think it should be You and I?

Nell: And there you go again. So annoying.

Me: It’s nice to be loved, isn’t it? It’s something you dogs do best. You’re an example to us all.

Nell: Thank you.

Me: There’s nothing better than coming home to a welcome from a dog.

Nell: The Cat wouldn’t agree. It doesn’t do affection.

Me: Cats do everything on their own terms.

Nell: I find exuberant llamas exhausting, don’t you?

Me: I’m not sure how to respond to that.

Nell: Is it necessary to cartwheel to show you’re happy?

Me: I’m not sure I can.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: No. Sorry.

Me: Seeing the first snowdrops always lifts my spirits.

Nell: I’m glad.

Me: The lanes are so full of mud and the sky is so grey at this time of year that it’s wonderful to see the snowdrops shining through like little beacons of hope.

Nell: They’re flowers not stars.

Me: I know what I mean.

Nell: I don’t.

Me: They remind me that winter will be over soon and spring is on its way.

Nell: It’s January.

Me: I know.

Nell: Spring is quite a way off yet.

Me: Alright, Grumpy Guts. Are you having a touch of the Monday blues?

Nell: Have you seen the amount of mud you all brought in here after your walk? It’s like living in the middle of a field.

Me: There’s nothing to be done, Nell. It won’t stop raining.

Nell: Leave your Wellington boots outside, please.

Me: I leave them next to the door.

Nell: Everyone should be towelled down at the door.

Me: It’s difficult to towel all of Dave down. He’s the size of a small pony.

Nell: Moving on, your tap dancing was dreadful at Sunday Songs yesterday. Have you considered taking lessons?

Me: No, but Kev has.

Nell: Why didn’t you let Kev dance with David?

Me: It wasn’t my decision.

Nell: Pushing yourself forward like that.

Me: You told me I had to dance. The villagers enjoyed it.

Nell: Did they?

Me: Everyone clapped.

Nell: Probably because it was over.

Me: They were smiling.

Nell: Exactly. And you were wearing boots.

Me: I don’t have any tap shoes.

Nell: The Cat does. You should have asked.

Me: Shall I make a fresh pot of tea? It might help your mood.

Nell: Several shortbread biscuits and a nice clean floor would help even more.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Nigel knows there’s Spying going on, doesn’t he?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: And Dave doesn’t.

Nell: Finish your bacon sandwich, please, and stop making up stories.

Me: I can tell by Nigel’s face.

Nell: Nigel has a perfectly normal face.

Me: He was watching the Bus Stop until he saw me and then he sat down quickly and tried to look as if he wasn’t concerned when I know he really was.

Nell: There’s nothing to be concerned about. Look at David sleeping peacefully.

Me: Dave’s just eaten his second breakfast and a spaghetti bolognese. Nothing is going to bother him.

Nell: It wasn’t a spaghetti bolognese this morning, for your information. It was Uova al Purgatorio.

Me: You’re sounding more Italian every day. What’s that?

Nell: Eggs in purgatory.

Me: What?

Nell: It’s an Italian breakfast of eggs poached in a tomato sauce.

Me: A bit like Shakshuka?

Nell: Bless you.

Me: I meant the North African dish.

Nell: I see. Yes, but less spicy and flavoured with herbs.

Me: You seem to know an awful lot about it.

Nell: Lionel told me, if you must know.

Me: Lionel King? What’s that dreadful lion got to do with anything?

Nell: Stanley brings him a Tupperware, too, if you must know. He’s aware that Lionel lives alone.

Me: I bet Lady Anwen is on his list.

Nell: She might be. Now, finish your breakfast and start warming up your voice for Sunday Songs.

Me: Why? I’ve never warmed up my voice before?

Nell: You’re singing a duet with David. Harriet has had to drop out.

Me: She’s spying again, isn’t she?

Nell: How’s your tap dancing?

Me: I beg your pardon?

Nell: You can’t perform ‘Singing in the Rain’ without dancing. Do keep up.

Me: Right. Sorry.

Me: Do you know why Harriet was collecting the Spaghetti Bolognese from Stan at the Bus Stop this morning?

Nell: Don’t call him, Stan, please. His name is Stanley.

Me: I thought it was Dave’s job to collect the Tupperware?

Nell: David was up late watching The Traitors so he missed the alarm and Harriet had to go.

Me: Stanley could actually start bringing it to the house now that we know who he is, couldn’t he?

Nell: No. Leaving it at the Bus Stop is fine.

Me: But it’s not very kind or grateful of you all, Nell.

Nell: We say Grazie Mille.

Me: Your Italian really is very good. I have a theory about that.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: I think Stanley is putting something in the food to help you speak Italian.

Nell: Don’t be silly.

Me: I bet I could speak Italian if you shared it with me.

Nell: Good try.

Me: No, seriously. Let me collect the Tupperware tomorrow.

Nell: Absolutely not.

Me: Imagine if food could do that.

Nell: Do what?

Me: Help you speak the language.

Nell: You’re getting carried away again.

Me: I bet that rook can speak Italian.

Nell: What rook?

Me: The one who waits behind the Bus Stop for Stanley.

Nell: I’ve never seen him.

Me: I don’t think we’re supposed to see him.

Nell: So how did you see him?

Me: I was writing by the window and saw Harriet go to the Bus Stop and take a secret photo of Stanley and the rook on her iBone.

Nell: You saw Harriet?

Me: Yes. I know she likes taking secret photos. I think it might be a spy thing.

Nell: You have far too vivid an imagination for your own good. Secret photos. What nonsense.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Would you like a chat? I thought you might be feeling a little down after the shock of yesterday.

Nell: Don’t talk to me. I’m resting my eyes.

Me: I’m afraid Stanley Smoochy was a bit of a surprise, wasn’t he?

Nell: A bit of a surprise? I was expecting a Cane Corso, or at least an Italian Greyhound, not a tiny little seagull in a chef’s hat and Italian apron wearing spectacles.

Me: Trendy spectacles. I was expecting an Italian-American cocktail-making film star.

Nell: Why?

Me: Never mind. Anyway, after the initial shock I realised Stanley is actually awfully sweet and friendly. Not that I could understand much of what he was saying.

Nell: But what about the future of the Spaghetti Bolognese Club?

Me: It can still keep going. Stanley seems happy to cook for you all.

Nell: Stanley is not to be trusted.

Me: It’s not his fault he has an evil older brother.

Nell: The shock when Susan came running in and said ‘Uncle Stanley! What are you doing here?’

Me: Yes, that was a blow. I know Susan is a seagull and married to Malcolm the flamingo but I keep forgetting she’s Stephen Seagull’s estranged daughter.

Nell: Which means the Italian is not only a Beefy but he’s also Stephen Seagull’s little brother.

Me: I don’t think he and Stephen are very close and you can’t choose your family, Nell..

Nell: He’s staying at Stephen’s apartment at the Stately Home. The Cat’s seen him on the balcony hanging out spaghetti.

Me: I beg your pardon?

Nell: That’s what you do with pasta. Hang it out to dry.

Me: But it’s been raining.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: No. You’re right. The balcony is probably covered.

Nell: Stop worrying about the pasta.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Why is Dave wearing his mayor’s hat?

Nell: The Italian is coming to tea this afternoon.

Me: But Dave isn’t the Mayor of Kingsbridge anymore.

Nell: He was and that’s all that matters.

Me: You’re not going to wear a tiara, are you?

Nell: Certainly not. A wide brimmed hat and my pearls will suffice.

Me: I hope the Italian doesn’t disappoint you.

Nell: Why would he?

Me: He might not be quite what you expect.

Nell: We shall see.

Me: We shall indeed.

Nell: At least we have a name for him now.

Me: Do we?

Nell: Yes, and he’s a he.

Me: How do you know his name?

Nell: There was a message on the top of today’s spaghetti bolognese.

Me: What did it say?

Nell: ‘Grazie per il gentile invito al tè. Ci vediamo alle tre.’

Me: Your Italian accent is really good now. What does that mean?

Nell: Thank for the kind invitation to tea. See you at three.

Me: That doesn’t tell me the Italian is male.

Nell: He signed it.

Me: Signed it?

Nell: You’re doing that repeating thing again.

Me: What’s his name?

Nell: Stanley Smoochy.

Me: Stanley Smoochy?

Nell: Stop doing that.

Me: Are you serious?

Nell: Yes. Look.

Me: Oh my goodness. I might have to find a hat now, too.

Nell: Don’t be silly. Nobody needs a hat to show someone into the kitchen.

Me: They do if it’s Stanley Smoochy.

Nell: Calm down.

Me: It’s lucky you speak Italian.

Nell: I don’t.

Me: Yes, you do. You’ve been speaking Italian to me for days.

Nell: Oh yes. I hadn’t realised.

Me: Can Dave speak Italian?

Nell: A little.

Me: What about Harriet?

Nell: The same.

Me: And Nigel?

Nell: I don’t know. Why?

Me: Just a theory. Sorry.