Nell: You need to talk to David.
Me: Why? Is something wrong?
Nell: He won’t get out of bed.
Me: Not even for food?
Nell: Don’t be silly. He’s a Labrador. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for food.
Me: So he’s had breakfast?
Nell: Yes, but only his own.
Me: No Eating by Mistake?
Nell: No. He just ate his boiled eggs and went back to bed.
Me: No soldiers?
Nell: Of course there were soldiers. You can’t have a dippy egg without soldiers.
Me: Well, that’s a relief.
Nell: But he only had two rounds of bread lightly buttered.
Me: Lightly?
Nell: Quite. It worried me, too.
Me: Did he drink his tea?
Nell: Yes, but without his usual gusto. You know how he loves to slurp.
Me: Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.
Nell: No slurping today. Just gentle sips.
Me: I didn’t even know Dave could sip.
Nell: Nobody did. There’s definitely something wrong.
Me: He’s probably missing Sally. They had such a lovely weekend together.
Nell: Long distance romances are very hard.
Me: You wouldn’t know. All your suitors are dancing around you.
Nell: All my suitors?
Me: Knitwear Wolf, that wretched lion and probably Stanley.
Nell: Stanley isn’t a suitor.
Me: I notice you didn’t disagree with me about Lionel King.
Nell: One can’t help having a crush.
Me: One jolly well can. You’re going to lose Knitwear Wolf if you carry on like this.
Nell: Rupert understands.
Me: Does he know you’re meeting Lionel at the pub?
Nell: Only for a small sherry.
Me: It doesn’t matter what you’re drinking. Does Rupert know?
Nell: My friend Dorothy tried a craft beer recently. She said it was dreadful.
Me: Stop avoiding the question.
Nell: I’m going to tell Rupert.
Me: You’d better, or I will. Sorry.
