Nell: How’s David today?
Me: He’s not quite himself, Nell.
Nell: In what way?
Me: He’s wearing his favourite ring over his head.
Nell: He does that sometimes.
Me: In a crazy sort of way.
Nell: I see.
Me: He wouldn’t eat his boiled egg this morning.
Nell: Oh dear.
Me: Or Harriet’s. He wanted smoked salmon instead.
Nell: Spoilt animal.
Me: And he asked for pickled fish for his tea yesterday.
Nell: Pickled fish?
Me: Yes, and he’d already eaten tuna for lunch.
Nell: This is worrying,
Me: I agree, there’s definitely something fishy going on. See what I did there?
Nell: This is not a laughing matter. What about bacon?
Me: He doesn’t want it.
Nell: Seriously?
Me: And when Stanley delivered the Spaghetti Bolognese he asked for Spaghetti alle Vongole.
Nell: What on earth is that?
Me: It’s spaghetti with fresh clams. It’s actually rather delicious.
Nell: That’s not the point.
Me: No. Of course.
Nell: Is he talking Italian?
Me: Not particularly.
Nell: What does that mean?
Me: He said ‘Ciao Bella’ to a passing spaniel but he does that anyway.
Nell: Sally won’t be pleased.
Me: She doesn’t mind him flirting in Italian. It’s harmless.
Nell: I meant about all this fish. David’s a meat eater.
Me: Not anymore. I mean, I don’t mind. I love fish.
Nell: It’s all your fault.
Me: I’ve never pushed fish on anyone, Nell. Each to their own.
Nell: You brought the Beefy fish home.
Me: Do you think it’s the reason?
Nell: I do. The Beefies have turned David into a Pescatarian.
Me: Only for now. It will wear off.
Nell: Don’t be so sure about that.
Me: Dave is never going to refuse roast beef or a sizzling steak.
Nell: He refused bacon.
Me: You’re right. Sorry.
