Nell: David has asked me to pass on his apologies and to thank Kev for taping up the arm of the chair. He is aware that eating it was wrong.

Me: He is very naughty.

Nell: I agree. He also said he would like to be known as Bernardo.

Me: What?

Nell: Yes. Apparently Rupert has asked them to stay in character.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: If David starts walking around in Cuban heels there will be trouble.

Me: You’re telling me. He certainly doesn’t need the height. Harriet is very sweet as Maria.

Nell: Yes, she and Jim are lovely together. I shall be happy when “Tonight” finally comes though. They have been singing about it enough.

Me: Did you manage to cast the two gangs?

Nell: Yes, the Bichon Frise from Paignton was excellent. I also have a couple of determined Dachshunds from Dartmouth with strong voices.

Me: Good.

Nell: The Miniature Pinscher struggled a little with the dancing but I have some wonderfully energetic Airedales who are throwing themselves into it all.

Me: What about Ron Gilbert?

Nell: Don’t get me started. He’s got a team of Australian cattle dogs as his crew.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: As I said to Rupert: “Those animals are supposed to be roving the Outback not putting up scenery in Torquay.”

Me: They are ever so hard working, Nell.

Nell: They herded my dancing chihuahuas into a packing crate. It took me hours to find them.

Me: Kev loved your poem, by the way.

Nell: Yes, he did.

Me: Are you getting sentimental again?

Nell: Certainly not. I leave that to you.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Have you ever had a makeover?

Me: Not really. I’m not that kind of person.

Nell: Well, Gladys and The Cat want to give Harriet one and we have to stop them.

Me: Harriet doesn’t need one. She is so pretty.

Nell: Yes. She has classic labradorian good looks.

Me: Like you.

Nell: Thank you. I like to visit Doug and the girls now and again for grooming of course.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Gladys, however, travels up to London to see Nicky Bark once a week.

Me: I don’t think I know him.

Nell: One of those Afghan Hounds with long blonde hair. Celebrity hairdresser.

Me: Gosh. Well, she does have a lot of hair.

Nell: And The Cat wears mascara.

Me: No.

Nell: Oh yes, I caught David wearing some the other day. And those silvery bits in its hair.

Me: Yes?

Nell: Highlights.

Me: Crikey.

Nell: Crikey? Honestly, whatever are you going to say next. Golly gumdrops?

Me: They are very good highlights.

Nell: That’s not the point. Do you want Harriet to go blonde and start wearing feathers? Are we going to let them turn her into a painted hussy?

Me: No, of course not. Sorry.

Nell: I can’t believe Gladys has been given the role of Anita in West Side Story. I don’t know what possessed Rupert.

Me: Gladys does have lovely fluffy hair.

Nell: Gladys looks like my Russian winter hat.

Me: She does a bit.

Nell: I’m sure I saw one of the guardsman outside Buckingham Palace wearing her on his head.

Me: That’s mean.

Nell: It must be because she’s a friend of Rita Pawreno’s.

Me: Maybe.

Nell: Who is going to believe David is in love with her?

Me: Actually, Dave likes her a lot.

Nell: That’s because she and The Cat trained together at beauty school and he loves all that chitter chatter.

Me: She can dance.

Nell: Yes, but her singing voice leaves a lot to be desired.

Me: It is a little high.

Nell: Honestly, this production is getting out of hand. Ron Gilbert was on the phone just now.

Me: Was he?

Nell: Yes, barking away about lighting again. As if I care.

Me: Well, you agreed to be assistant director.

Nell: I don’t know how that happened. I must be mad.

Me: You will be wonderful.

Nell: Can you ask James to bring the car round, please? I’ve got a Bichon Frise and a Miniature Pinscher waiting to audition in Paignton and I can’t be late.

Me: Sharks, or Jets?

Nell: Small dogs, don’t be silly.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Where is Dave?

Nell: David is being allowed a lie-in. He and Mutley were going through his lines when Mutley fell asleep leaning against him.

Me: Bless him. Mutley has been so busy. Has the MuttDonalds deal gone through?

Nell: Yes, we should be seeing them everywhere soon.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: Barker King are furious of course, but competition is part of life. A winning treat is twice as sweet.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Anyway, I’m going to enjoy my Earl Grey while reading the Sunday papers. Hopefully David isn’t front page news again.

Me: Maybe you should just listen to The Archers on Radio Four.

Nell: Why?

Me: Dave might have given another interview.

Nell: Was that bothersome Basset from Barking Weekly here again?

Me: Yes.

Nell: I don’t believe it. Did it stay for tea?

Me: Only sandwiches, no scones.

Nell: I’ve told Poppy not to feed the press. Give David a sandwich and he’s anybody’s. Pass me the papers.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: “Heartthrob Dave Martin pictured at home in Devon with friends.” Who is that next to him?

Me: Rita might have popped in. And The Cat.

Nell: Rita is sitting in my handbag.

Me: I know, sorry.

Nell: Would you kindly leave me in peace? I am trying to have a quiet conversation with Poppy. We are deciding on this week’s menu.

Me: It’s just that Dave is in the garden having an argument with Jim’s brother, Ruff.

Nell: I told David to leave Ruff alone.

Me: Ruff laughed at Dave’s waistcoat. He said sequins were for girls.

Nell: Tell David to turn the other jowl.

Me: It’s a bit late for that.

Nell: Why?

Me: Dave threw a scone at him.

Nell: Well, that’s completely unacceptable. One does not throw food. Especially Poppy’s scones. Did Ruff throw it back?

Me: No, he ate it.

Nell: An understandable reaction. One should never waste good food.

Me: It’s ok. Jim and Harriet are there now.

Nell: Honestly, I have far more to worry about than a food fight between two adolescents.

Me: But what if one of them had a knife?

Nell: Now listen, we have talked about this. Much as the Daily Growl would love it, we are not living in a real life West Side Story. David and Ruff were armed with scones not knives. The worst that was going to happen was a little jam, or cream, on their fur.

Me: You are right.

Nell: I am. Now can Poppy and I continue with our conversation, or is someone attacking Harriet with a sandwich?

Me: No, it’s fine. Sorry.

Nell: Never trust a Jack Russell in a trilby.

Me: I will bear that in mind.

Nell: I knew it when I laid eyes on him. Out for a story at any cost.

Me: What’s happened?

Nell: I was enjoying my morning toast and marmalade when David rushed in brandishing the Daily Growl and saying he was famous.

Me: Gosh!

Nell: The foolish animal allowed himself to be manipulated and now he is front page news.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Harriet is not going to like this at all and neither is Jim. I know they come from opposite sides of the fence but we get on well with the farm dogs considering.

Me: Well, we did.

Nell: Why did David have to say he wishes Jim could surf? He should have guessed they would manipulate it.

Me: He won’t have meant it badly. What are we going to do?

Nell: David just needs to apologise to Jim and steer clear of his brother Ruff for a while. He’s the real hot head.

Me: I knew it. This is going to escalate into a full scale war.

Nell: Do calm down.

Me: If they suggest meeting Dave in an alley he has to refuse.

Nell: We live on a farm. We don’t have any alleys. Good grief.

Me: Fortunately most of the farm dogs are too busy to dance, or sing, because when they start doing that you know they mean business.

Nell: Excuse me?

Me: Or clicking their fingers. That’s a real sign. I’m so glad they have paws.

Nell: Right. That’s enough. You are blurring the lines between fact and fiction again. Have a cup of tea, or go for a swim.

Me: Yes, sorry.

Me: Dave is posing in the living room.

Nell: Yes. They are sending a photographer and he is practising in case.

Me: Who?

Nell: The Daily Growl.

Me: Why?

Nell: Jim’s a farm dog. Harriet is a princess. They are playing the leads in West Side Story and they are in love. Apparently it’s a great story.

Me: Actually I would read that too. Harriet’s not a princess, though.

Nell: Excuse me? Her pedigree is impeccable. She is most definitely a princess in everything but name.

Me: True. Then Dave is a prince.

Nell: I have to say David is really growing into an extremely handsome young labrador.

Me: He’s gorgeous and so good natured too.

Nell: Yes, he has a sunny disposition but I wouldn’t like to see what he would do if anyone upset Harriet. He is fiercely protective.

Me: Yes. Oh my goodness. You don’t think there is going to be a fight, do you?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Between Dave and the surfers and the farm dogs?

Nell: What are you talking about? This is Devon not New York and as far as I know the surfers get on perfectly well with the farm dogs.

Me: Two rival gangs with Harriet and Jim caught in the middle. It doesn’t bear thinking about.

Nell: Then don’t. If I were you, I would go and have a lie down. Your imagination is running away with you again.

Me: Yes, sorry.

Me: So how did it go?

Nell: Can’t you let me rest first?

Me: No, I have to know.

Nell: Well, David got the part of Bernardo. He did an excellent audition.

Me: And Harriet?

Nell: There was stiff competition for Maria. A young spaniel called Marjorie performed particularly well and we thought she had it in the bag.

Me: Oh dear. Harriet is so shy. She must have been nervous.

Nell: She was. When she went on stage David started cheering.

Me: Bless him.

Nell: Rita was in the wings urging her on and I gave her an encouraging wave, but she faltered.

Me: Oh no.

Nell: And that’s when Jim stepped in.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: He strode on to the stage, took her paws in his and they sang “Tonight” together.

Me: Jim sang?

Nell: Oh yes, he’s been practising with her.

Me: I didn’t know.

Nell: Well, it brought the house down. Even Ron Gilbert applauded and he is a hard nut to crack.

Me: Who is Ron Gilbert?

Nell: The stage manager. A bad tempered Great Dane from Torquay.

Me: So Harriet is playing Maria?

Nell: Yes, and Jim has been cast as the male lead, Tony.

Me: How romantic. Our very own Romeo and Juliet. Who’s directing?

Nell: Rupert is directing again.

Me: Do I know him?

Nell: He’s a rather flamboyant red setter and an old flame of mine from my time at the RSC.

Me: I didn’t know you were part of the Royal Shakespeare Company.

Nell: My Lady Macbeth was legendary. Honestly, I do worry about you sometimes. You live in a world of your own.

Me: Yes, sorry.

Me: Harriet seems exhausted.

Nell: Yes, preparing for the auditions has tired her out. I’ll have to wake her soon.

Me: Where are they taking place?

Nell: Torquay, so just under an hour away.

Me: How are they getting there?

Nell: James is driving. Poppy will pack a picnic. Just chicken sandwiches, crusts off as a treat, and a few scones. I thought about carrots to keep David busy while he is waiting, but he crunches them so loudly.

Me: Are you going too?

Nell: Yes, I think they need my support. Jim the farm dog has asked if he can accompany Harriet.

Me: How sweet.

Nell: Yes, He is very protective of her. The Cat is coming too, of course.

Me: Are Poppy and Mutley going?

Nell: Mutley has a meeting in London with some forward thinking Boston Terriers. He’s opening a new chain called MuttDonalds. I’m not sure if it will catch on, but everyone likes a burger, don’t they?

Me: And Poppy?

Nell: Poppy is taking the Puerto Ricans on her motorbike. Rita will ride in the sidecar with their luggage.

Me: Not in your handbag?

Nell: Certainly not. I put a stop to that nonsense when I found a half eaten scone at the bottom.

Me: That’s not very nice.

Nell: Quite. Imagine not finishing one of Poppy’s scones? Outrageous.

Me: Well, let me know how it all goes. I do hope Dave gets the part of Bernardo.

Nell: I’m confident that he will. He’s got the dance moves and the swagger. I’m not sure about the sequinned waistcoat but The Cat seems confident.

Me: But Bernardo is mean and Dave could never be mean.

Nell: Didn’t you see him when that farm dog stole his sausage at the last barbecue? Now, let’s wake Harriet.

Me: Yes, sorry.