Nell: I see you went back to our beach again. Look at Harriet. Bless her. Playing like a puppy.
Me: It does us all good to be by the sea, to be honest.
Nell: There’s nothing like fresh sea air.
Me: Yes. It makes your face feel all tingly.
Nell: I don’t know about that but I’m glad to see you getting out and about again.
Me: I don’t find it easy at the moment, Nell.
Nell: I know. But life must go on.
Me: I suppose so.
Nell: Is Rupert still Italian?
Me: He’s not Italian, Nell. He’s just spending time with Italian birds and that wretched lion.
Nell: I’ve told you not to be mean to Lionel King.
Me: I don’t trust him.
Nell: Now, Sunday is Mother’s Day in the United Kingdom.
Me: Yes, I know.
Nell: I’m guessing you’re going to find it particularly difficult this year.
Me: I most definitely am.
Nell: Because I was like a mother to you all.
Me: You were.
Nell: I don’t want you moping around.
Me: Actually, Kev and I have been invited out for Sunday lunch at our pub by some good friends from Oxfordshire who are down here on holiday.
Nell: Terry and Marian?
Me: Yes.
Nell: Well, that’s delightful. Make sure you take lots of photos.
Me: I’m not feeling very photogenic at the moment.
Nell: Take some anyway. I need to see you enjoying yourself.
Me: I can’t imagine enjoying myself.
Nell: Well, try. You might be surprised.
Me: I might.
Nell: Remember when we talked about finding a pocketful of happiness each day after your little sister died?
Me: Yes.
Nell: That’s what you have to do again.
Me: I don’t know if I can, Nell.
Nell: You can. Trust me.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
