Nell: What on earth is going on there?
Me: Dave and Harriet were welcoming Nigel back. They haven’t seen him in a while.
Nell: They certainly seem pleased to see each other.
Me: They missed him.
Nell: I can see that.
Me: Don’t be jealous.
Nell: I’m not. Did you have a good time yesterday?
Me: We did. We all went for a lovely long walk as soon as the weather was cooler and then the labs played together before the barbecue in the evening.
Nell: I’m glad they enjoyed themselves. Some of us had blackened fish.
Me: Was it tasty?
Nell: No, there were bones.
Me: Poppy always loved fish. She and I used to share it.
Nell: I’m fine with a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich, crusts off, of course, but fish on a stick is a step too far.
Me: You must get Poppy to barbecue some king prawns next time. They’re delicious and you like prawns.
Nell: Only in a prawn cocktail with lettuce and thinly sliced brown bread and butter on the side.
Me: Well, it’s Sunday so you’re hopefully having a roast.
Nell: Yes, roast chicken with all the trimmings.
Me: Snap!
Nell: Snap what?
Me: We’re having the same. It’s too hot for a roast really but it’s Whitsun so we thought we should.
Nell: Are you ready for Sunday Songs?
Me: Yes, although I wish the Beefy Choir weren’t singing.
Nell: What about the Welsh Corgi Choir?
Me: They’ve gone to Cardiff for some huge Welsh sing-song.
Nell: Oh dear.
Me: I’m not expecting much.
Nell: Don’t. Seagulls aren’t singers.
Me: Stephen Seagull is singing a solo.
Nell: You might need a small glass of sherry before you go.
Me: You might be right.
Nell: I’m always right.
Me: Yes. Sorry.
