Nell: Why is Nigel here again? It’s Wednesday.

Me: He’s a member of the Spaghetti Bolognese Club.

Nell: I know.

Me: Dave thought he might want to join in the preparations for the cream tea.

Nell: What preparations? Herr Hoffmann has Poppy’s recipe for the scones and Frau Hoffmann is making her special strawberry jam.

Me: Someone has to organise the clotted cream.

Nell: Jim the Farm Dog is doing that. He has connections at the Farm Shop, besides Nigel looks tired.

Me: Has the Italian said he’s coming?

Nell: He hasn’t said he isn’t.

Me: How did you invite him?

Nell: We put the invitation in a Tupperware container and left it at the Bus Stop.

Me: Anyone could take it, Nell.

Nell: It says ‘Per il nostro italiano preferito’ on the lid.

Me: What does that mean?

Nell: For our favourite Italian.

Me: What if the Italian is a girl?

Nell: A girl wouldn’t send flowers.

Me: I send flowers.

Nell: Moving on, once we know he’s coming we can start preparing properly.

Me: When is the tea?

Nell: Tomorrow afternoon at 3pm.

Me: Thursday is a funny day for afternoon tea.

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Me: Wouldn’t the weekend be better?

Nell: Italians are far too busy at weekends.

Me: How do you know that?

Nell: Weekends are for friends and family. Everyone knows that.

Me: The Italian is a friend.

Nell: Leave it alone, please. You’re not part of the Management Committee.

Me: Is Nigel?

Nell: He wasn’t, but now I’m thinking he probably is as he’s here.

Me: I’m here.

Nell: Just go away and practice inviting a guest into the kitchen.

Me: I can do that. Should I shake his paw?

Nell: We don’t know if he has paws yet.

Me: You’re right. Sorry.

Me: Did you hear the thunder in the night?

Nell: Of course I did.

Me: Were you scared?

Nell: No. It was just the sky grumbling. We all do it.

Me: Lots of dogs are frightened of thunder and lightning. I used to be as a child. I can remember huge storms over the sea.

Nell: Things always seem bigger as a child.

Me: Yes, they do.

Nell: David wasn’t too happy last night but Harriet cuddled up to him and he fell asleep again.

Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: I just stayed near Kev.

Me: Good. He will keep you safe.

Nell: I know he will.

Me: I’ve been thinking.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: How about we invite your Italian to a Spaghetti Bolognese Club cream tea?

Nell: He’s not my Italian. If he’s anyone’s Italian he’s David’s Italian.

Me: Never mind all that. What do you think? It would be a way to say thank you for all the lovely food.

Nell: If it’s a Spaghetti Bolognese Club event you can’t be there.

Me: I could be a guest member?

Nell: No.

Me: I could pour the tea?

Nell: Not happening.

Me: I need to know who he is.

Nell: You can take his coat and hat at the door.

Me: What if he’s not wearing a coat and hat?

Nell: It’s winter.

Me: But he might be a polar bear?

Nell: There are no polar bears in Italy.

Me: You don’t have to be Italian to cook Italian food.

Nell: I don’t see polar bears as cooks.

Me: The Hoffmanns are.

Nell: Fine. You can show him into the kitchen.

Me: I don’t think we should expect him to cook.

Nell: We have a kitchen diner. It’s where we eat.

Me: Oh yes. Sorry.

Me: Nigel has a special bond with Kev, doesn’t he?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: He does. He follows him around everywhere.

Nell: Nigel may think he has a special bond with Kev but I know Kev’s special bond is with me.

Me: I never said it wasn’t. You can have more than one special bond. There’s no need to feel jealous.

Nell: I’m Kev’s special girl.

Me: So is Harriet, to be fair.

Nell: And David is Kev’s special boy.

Me: Yes.

Nell: And not Nigel.

Me: Nigel is a special boy, too.

Nell: But not Kev’s.

Me: They’re very close, Nell. They go on walks together.

Nell: I’ve had enough of this nonsense.

Me: You’re one to talk.

Nell: What do you mean by that?

Me: The yellow roses that arrived a few days ago for you? I presumed they were from Knitwear Wolf but now I’m not so sure.

Nell: Why do you say that?

Me: Because I just found the card. ‘Bellissimi fiori per una bella signora.’

Nell: Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady. They could be from Rupert.

Me: He doesn’t speak Italian.

Nell: And why me? They could be for Harriet from Jim the Farm Dog?

Me: Jim the Farm Dog only brings Harriet wild flowers and he most definitely doesn’t speak Italian.

Nell: Maybe they were for you from Kev?

Me: Kev would have told me. Anyway, the card had your name on it.

Nell: Did it?

Me: You know it did. And there’s more.

Nell: What now?

Me: Frau Hoffmann said they were delivered by a Beefy.

Nell: I didn’t know that, or I would never have accepted them.

Me: It seems you have a special bond with the Italian.

Nell: Calm down, Sherlock Martin. They’re just flowers.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: You’re not going to believe this.

Me: I might.

Nell: You know Book a Beefy?

Me: The delivery service run by the evil gang of seagulls aka the Beefies?

Nell: A simple yes would have sufficed.

Me: Of course I know them. Terry is our favourite delivery seagull.

Nell: Anyway, Harriet says the Italian is working with them.

Me: I didn’t know the Beefies could cook pasta and Panettone.

Nell: It was Pandoro. I’m not talking about the cooking. The Beefies are delivering the Tupperware containers.

Me: That’s actually quite a sensible move on the Italian’s part. It makes use of an existing service.

Nell: But can they be trusted?

Me: Absolutely not, I’ve been telling you not to touch that spaghetti bolognese for weeks now, Nell.

Nell: I meant trusted to deliver it to the right place on time. Mine was a little cold last week.

Me: How does Harriet know?

Nell: She was monitoring the Bus Stop when she saw a Beefy place a Tupperware container in the bus shelter.

Me: What was inside it?

Nell: We don’t know. David ate it by mistake when he went to collect it.

Me: He must remember what it was.

Nell: You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But he doesn’t.

Me: No bacon sandwiches for him today.

Nell: He’s already eaten those. He likes to eat breakfast early on a Sunday so he has room to sing.

Me: Room to sing?

Nell: He can’t sing with a full tummy and he has a solo at Sunday Songs.

Me: No Sunday roast then.

Nell: Are you suggesting depriving a growing Labrador of roast beef?

Me: But he’s not growing and he’s already eaten. Twice.

Nell: Of crispy roast potatoes, parsnips and carrots, seasonal vegetables, Yorkshire puddings and gravy?

Me: Maybe not. Sorry.

Me: Nigel’s watching the Bus Stop and he looks really worried. Has he forgotten there’s no school on Saturday?

Nell: He’s not worried about the children. He’s worried about the Italian.

Me: Why? Was the spaghetti bolognese cold?

Nell: There wasn’t any Tupperware at the Bus Stop at all.

Me: Not even a spaghetti napoli?

Nell: You mean spaghetti alla napolitana. Why?

Me: It’s my go-to when I’m in a rush. Just tomatoes and maybe a little basil.

Nell: I don’t care what your go-to is, the Italian has abandoned us.

Me: You don’t know that.

Nell; I do. There’s more.

Me: I thought you said there wasn’t any.

Nell: Very funny. The Cat opened its door to find an insalata caprese on its doorstep.

Me: Gosh. What’s that again?

Nell: A caprese salad is a simple, classic dish composed of sliced fresh mozzarella (often buffalo mozzarella or mozzarella di bufala), ripe tomatoes, and fresh basil leaves.

Me: I like to add sliced avocado to mine.

Nell: I don’t care but you can see why Nigel is worried.

Me: There’s no reason to worry. It’s not a winter dish but it’s still enjoyable.

Nell: We didn’t enjoy it. The Cat did.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: The Cat isn’t in the Spaghetti Bolognese Club.

Me: Maybe there’s a Caprese Salad Club?

Nell: Exactly. The Italian has moved on.

Me: You don’t know The Cat’s salad was from the Italian.

Nell: It was in a Tupperware with the message  Questo è per il gatto adorabile.

Me: Your accent really is awfully good, you know. What does that mean?

Nell: This is for the adorable Cat.

Me: I bet The Cat was ever so pleased.

Nell: It says it would have preferred an insalata di mare.

Me: Seafood salad?

Nell: Yes.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: Why weren’t you at Morning Thoughts?

Me: I’m never at Morning Thoughts. It’s my writing time.

Nell: Well, you should have been there today.

Me: Why? Did something important happen?

Nell: Nigel has officially asked to be called Nigel Martin when he’s visiting us here.

Me: How adorable. It shouldn’t be a problem, should it?

Nell: But he’s always here.

Me: No, he isn’t.

Nell: He was here yesterday.

Me: I know. He’s spending a long weekend with us. Charlotte is visiting friends.

Nell: David doesn’t like it.

Me: Dave’s absolutely fine about it.

Nell: He finds Nigel completely exhausting.

Me: No, he doesn’t.

Nell: He’s even started sleeping in two beds.

Me: Who has?

Nell: David. It’s a sign of exasperation.

Me: No. It’s because he’s too big to fit into one.

Nell: I told you those beds were too small.

Me: You have a selection of beds, Nell. Stop moaning.

Nell: And another thing.

Me: What now?

Nell: Nigel has joined the Spaghetti Bolognese Club.

Me: That’s not fair.

Nell: Exactly what I said.

Me: I should be allowed to join before him.

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Me: I love Italian food.

Nell: Yes, but you’re never going to eat it out of a Tupperware container at the Bus Stop even if it does have your name on it.

Me: It had my name on it?

Nell: No, I’m talking hypothetically. Do keep up.

Me: I see. Did it have Nigel’s name on it?

Nell: That’s the troubling thing.

Me: Tell me.

Nell: It did.

Me: Seriously?

Nell: Yes. It said ‘Per favore, condividi questo con Nigel Martin’.

Me: Your Italian accent is becoming rather good.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: No, of course not.

Nell: The Italian called him Nigel Martin.

Me: Oh yes. Sorry.

Nell: Who on earth is that?

Me: It’s a raccoon in a tree outside Chris’s house in Toronto. Isn’t it cute?

Nell: It reminds me of the Stuffed Tiger.

Me: Yes. It does look a bit like a cuddly toy.

Nell: No. It’s clearly an eavesdropper. Chris needs to be very careful what he says around it.

Me: Nonsense.

Nell: Moving on, we need to send Get Well wishes to that Notorious Vegetarian James Beddall. He’s in hospital.

Me: Get well soon James, and big hugs from us all. James is the only person apart from Knitwear Wolf who’s allowed to call you Nelly.

Nell: He is but I’m afraid the Vegetarianism stops today.

Me: What Vegetarianism?

Nell: Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Veggie Pasta on Tuesday, Cheese and Potato bake yesterday. It’ll be lentils today, mark my paws.

Me: Herr Hoffmann thinks we eat too much meat.

Nell: Said no bear ever.

Me: Actually bears like honey and fish.

Nell: Anyway, I know you’re going into the city today so pop into Barks and Spencer and pick up a few treats, please.

Me: Alright, but only a few. You still have to be careful what you eat.

Nell: Barks do excellent sandwiches. Get a selection.

Me: You sound hungry.

Nell: The Italian’s late with his spaghetti bolognese today. David’s checked the Bus Stop twice and there’s still no Tupperware.

Me: I’m not happy about this, Nell.

Nell: Neither are we. It’s never been this late before.

Me: That’s not what I meant.

Nell: I hope one of the schoolchildren hasn’t taken it to school by mistake.

Me: So do I. We don’t know if it’s safe.

Nell: David, Harriet and I have been sharing it for days. I think we’d know by now if it wasn’t.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Look at Harriet. Isn’t she a pretty little thing?

Nell: Harriet is not a thing, She’s a pedigree chocolate Labrador.

Me: Did you know someone thought you were a cross breed?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: I think they mentioned a spaniel.

Nell: A spaniel! This is too much. I hope you put them right?

Me: I did. Don’t worry. What was in that box, by the way?

Nell: What box?

Me: The one delivered to Davide yesterday.

Nell: Don’t call him Davide, please. You know that’s not his name.

Me: Someone doesn’t. So, what was in it?

Nell: It wasn’t spaghetti bolognese if that’s what you think, Nosey Parker.

Me: What was it?

Nell: An Italian cake, if you must know.

Me: A Panettone! You dogs can’t eat Panettone. It’s full of raisins.

Nell: Calm down. It wasn’t a Panettone. It was a Pandoro.

Me: A Pandoro?

Nell: You’re doing that repeating thing again.

Me: What is a Pandoro?

Nell: It’s a Panettone senza canditi.

Me: I said it was a Panettone.

Nell: Without fruit.

Me: Oh, I see.

Nell: Perfectly safe for dogs to eat.

Me: Well, that’s a relief.

Nell: We wouldn’t have eaten it if there had been raisins.

Me: Does that mean you have eaten it?

Nell: Of course we have.

Me: What about me?

Nell: What about you?

Me: Don’t you think I might have liked a slice of the Pandoro, too?

Nell: Would you have liked a slice?

Me: I would, actually.

Nell: It’s good I saved you one then, isn’t it?

Me: Seriously?

Nell: I wasn’t going to leave you out. I know how much you enjoy your cake.

Me: Am I a member of the Spaghetti Bolognese Club now?

Nell: Just be thankful for the slice.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Have you seen David? Someone dropped something off for him but he’s nowhere to be found.

Me: He’s upstairs watching my digital photo frame.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: The family gave me one for Christmas with hundreds of photos on it.

Nell: Why is David watching it?

Me: The photos change every 15 seconds. It’s wonderful.

Nell: It probably is but what’s it got to do with David?

Me: He loves it. He watches it all the time. It’s adorable. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: He’s supposed to be watching the Bus Stop.

Me: He does that, too. Let him have a little me time.

Nell: Me time?

Me: Time for himself.

Nell; David has plenty of time for himself. He needs to come downstairs and open the box.

Me: How do you know it’s for him?

Nell: It says Davide.

Me: He’s not called Davide.

Nell: He is in Italy.

Me: He’s never been to Italy.

Nell: David is Davide in Italian and I’m Eleonora often shortened to Nora which means shining light, if you’re interested.

Me: You know far too much about all this for my liking. Have you and Dave been consorting with Italians behind my back?

Nell: How dare you?

Me: I’m beginning to think you’ve joined the spaghetti bolognese group.

Nell: I might have eaten the odd strand. Who can blame me?

Me: There’s something very off about all this, Nell.

Nell: No, it was definitely freshly made and still warm.

Me: I didn’t mean that. Someone is behind all this. Someone fishy.

Nell: Fish don’t cook Italian food. Fish don’t cook at all. They can’t be bothered. Lazy creatures.

Me: They have to stay in water, Nell, so cooking isn’t possible.

Nell: Why suggest it then?

Me: Never mind. Sorry.

Me: I’m glad to see you’re finally accepting one of the new dog beds.

Nell: I wouldn’t call it Acceptance. I’m Seeing How It Goes.

Me: Seeing How It Goes is halfway to Acceptance in my eyes.

Nell: You’re strangely positive for a dark and gloomy Monday.

Me: Somebody has to be. Look at Marvin. He’s in a right old mood.

Nell: Marvin doesn’t like Mondays either.

Me: He might not like Mondays but he’s crossed his paws beautifully. Harriet does the same.

Nell: Have you quite finished rambling on?

Me: Am I disturbing you?

Nell: I’m about to enjoy a cup of Earl Grey and a slice of hot buttered toast and marmalade in the kitchen with Frau Hoffmann, if you must know.

Me: Sounds lovely.

Nell: It’s a Senior Ladies Breakfast.

Me: Can I join you?

Nell: No.

Me: But I’m a Senior Lady?

Nell: You’re too noisy and chipper for a Monday morning.

Me: I’m not chipper anymore. You’ve ruined my mood.

Nell: It’s for Senior Ladies not Sad Ladies.

Me: Talking of ruining the mood, people are very surprised at how mean you are to Nigel.

Nell: What people?

Me: All kinds of people from all over the world. I put the video on social media.

Nell: Well, thank you very much.

Me: My pleasure.

Nell: I was being sarcastic.

Me: Were you?

Nell: Yes, and now you’re definitely not invited to our Senior Ladies Breakfast.

Me: I shall eat my toast and marmalade alone at my desk upstairs then.

Nell: Good.

Me: You don’t mean that, do you?

Nell: I most certainly do.

Me: You love me really.

Nell: Of course I do and I always will, but you’re still not coming to breakfast.

Me: Pretty please.

Nell: Fine, but no videoing.

Me: Ok. Sorry.