Nell: Today would have been your late mother’s birthday, wouldn’t it?

Me: Yes. She’d have been 92.

Nell: Have a gentle day, please.

Me: I will.

Nell: Lovely photos.

Me: The weather was really warm.

Nell: The Weather Guardians say clear skies mean cooler nights.

Me: Have you ever considered being a Weather Guardian?

Nell: I’m not sure I can be bothered to train.

Me: You like talking about the weather.

Nell: I’m British. We all like talking about the weather.

Me: True.

Nell: What’s the matter with David? He seems ready to pounce.

Me: He saw a passing spaniel he didn’t particularly like.

Nell: Chasing a ball?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Spaniels can be extremely annoying.

Me: That’s nonsense, Nell. There’s nothing wrong with spaniels.

Nell: They’re like llamas. Giddy and excitable.

Me: You’re so judgmental.

Nell: I am not. Harriet is looking a little portly.

Me: There you go again.

Nell: Unfortunately weight gain often comes with age.

Me: Kev and I noticed that, too. We’re going to have to put her on a diet.

Nell: She gets more than enough exercise.

Me: She does, and she only eats half as much as Dave.

Nell: Nobody eats as much as David. You can’t use him as a measuring stick.

Me: No. We’re having cabbage soup for dinner today so at least that’s not fattening.

Nell: Cabbage soup?

Me: With other vegetables.

Nell: How disgusting.

Me: It’s delicious with a slice of homemade bread and farmhouse butter on the side.

Nell: I presume Harriet will only be given a dry cracker.

Me: No. She can have some soup.

Nell: On the side.

Me: I’m not sure we have any crackers.

Nell: We’re having steak and chips.

Me: That’s not very healthy.

Nell: With salad on the side.

Me: Right. Sorry.

Nell: I’m surprised David is allowed his toy on the silken cover.

Me: He isn’t bothering anyone.

Nell: Toys shouldn’t be allowed on beds.

Me: He loves it so much. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy. Some people think dogs shouldn’t be allowed on beds.

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Me: Just saying.

Nell: Has there been any news from Rupert?

Me: Not from Rupert himself. He’s been travelling.

Nell: Travelling?

Me: Yes. He’s been busy travelling with his Canadian friend, Mark. I think they might be in New York.

Nell: Is Mark a Canadian wolf?

Me: No, although some might say he’s a silver fox.

Nell: Rupert is travelling with a fox?

Me: It was a joke. Mark is the Prime Minister of Canada.

Nell: Stop joking and tell me who he really is.

Me: I’m not joking.

Nell: Are you telling me Rupert is friends with Mark Carney, the Prime Minister of Canada?

Me: You were friends with the late Queen, Nell.

Nell: Rupert never mentioned Mark.

Me: I might be exaggerating the friends part. I’m not sure they knew each other until recently.

Nell: How did they meet?

Me: Mark needed a bodyguard and Sally suggested Rupert.

Nell: Why?

Me: He’s strong, reliable and available. And Canadian, of course.

Nell: Available?

Me: You know Rupert’s been a little bit at sea since you left us.

Nell: I didn’t expect him to go travelling around the world with the Canadian Prime Minister.

Me: I’m sure he’ll be home soon.

Nell: What about his knitwear business?

Me: Myfanwy is running it in his absence with the help of the rest of the Welsh Corgi Choir.

Nell: Why didn’t you tell me at once instead of talking about toys on beds?

Me: Harriet only just told me.

Nell: It’s unacceptable.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Good morning.

Nell: Morning. Is it misty out there today?

Me: Yes, it is. The Bus Stop is actually shrouded in mist which is rather romantic.

Nell: I’m not sure Bus Stops can be romantic.

Me: How did you know it was going to be misty?

Nell: The Weather Guardians keep me informed. How is everyone?

Me: Dave and Harriet are funny together.

Nell: What do you mean?

Me: Harriet was doing her I am a Mysterious Animal Who Likes To Sit Alone on the Stairs thing when Dave came rushing out with one of his favourite toys and brought her back to earth.

Nell: Why was Harriet on the stairs?

Me: She does it now and again. She looks through the bannisters and won’t come down even if you ask nicely.

Nell: Maybe she just needs some quiet.

Me: I don’t know. Nothing can make her move except Dave.

Nell: Or bacon.

Me: Yes. Any kind of food.

Nell: I wouldn’t move for a sardine. Horrible things.

Me: Nobody mentioned sardines, although Dave and Harriet have them once a week and love them.

Nell: Poppy made us grilled sardines with Rat and Two Leaves yesterday evening.

Me: Rat? I know Poppy likes fish, but rat?

Nell: It’s some kind of vegetable dish.

Me: You mean ratatouille. Tomatoes with peppers, aubergines and courgettes.

Nell: I didn’t like it. Sardines have too many bones.

Me: If you press gently along a butterflied sardine’s back and turn it over, you can pull out the backbone and attached rib bones in one go.

Nell: That’s the most horrible thing you’ve ever told me.

Me: It isn’t alive, Nell. It’s gutted.

Nell: You’d be gutted if someone did that to you.

Me: I probably would.

Nell: Never speak of this again.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: I see you went down to the river.

Me: The sun was shining and walking there is so peaceful and relaxing.

Nell: Not with Harriet.

Me: No. She was running everywhere as usual. Bless her.

Nell: It’s looking lovely and green again.

Me: Yes. Nature is truly amazing.

Nell: It is.

Me: Just a few weeks ago the ground was parched and dry and look at it now.

Nell: The leaves will be falling soon.

Me: Is that why autumn is called Fall?

Nell: It is. Did you make sure Dave kept away from the horse chestnuts?

Me: We did. Horse chestnuts are poisonous to dogs.

Nell: They’re actually poisonous to everyone.

Me: Harriet is the colour of a horse chestnut.

Nell: No, she isn’t.

Me: She’s definitely a conker brown. Why do we call horse chestnuts conkers?

Nell: It means hard nut in Old English.

Me: I thought it was from the sound it makes when you play conkers and hit one with the other.

Nell: It might be from the French word ‘cogner’ which means ‘to hit’.

Me: I didn’t know you spoke French.

Nell: Of course I speak French. I lived in Paris for years.

Me: Did you really?

Nell: Yes, as an artist’s muse.

Me: I don’t know what to say about that.

Nell: Then don’t say anything at all.

Me: Do you have any plans for today?

Nell: Just the usual Monday chores.

Me: You have Monday chores?

Nell: Beds won’t change themselves.

Me: You’ve never changed a bed in your life.

Nell: I’ll have you know I worked my way through university as a chambermaid.

Me: I thought you trained to be a nurse.

Nell: I’ve done many things.

Me: Including fabricating the truth.

Nell: Did you mumble something? Enunciate, please.

Me: Sorry.

Me: You know when you can see someone is about to tell you something important and then they don’t?

Nell: No. Everyone tells me everything.

Me: Nonsense, Nell. You know exactly what I mean.

Nell: It’s early on a Sunday morning stop talking in riddles.

Me: Harriet was about to confide in me but she had Second Thoughts.

Nell: Second Thoughts?

Me: Yes, and a Sly Smile.

Nell: I need a cup of Earl Grey to deal with this. Why would Harriet have a Sly Smile?

Me: I don’t know. Maybe it’s the idea of a Sunday roast later?

Nell: She has a Sunday roast most weeks.

Me: Maybe there’s going to be a surprise at Sunday Songs?

Nell: Not the Beefy Choir, I hope.

Me: I saw the Whippets Institute minibus drive past the Bus Stop just now.

Nell: Rather early for them.

Me: Yes. I wondered if the Welsh Corgi Choir might be singing a belated Happy Birthday to Jonathan Sky?

Nell: It’s possible, but why arrive now? It’s not as if it’s a difficult song that needs rehearsing.

Me: Harriet doesn’t seem bothered. She’s gone back to sleep.

Nell: A sensible decision.

Me: Maybe it wasn’t a Sly Smile at all?

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Maybe it was a Loving Smile and Harriet didn’t have Second Thoughts at all?

Nell: I’m having Second Thoughts about today’s roast.

Me: Really?

Nell: It’s chicken, and I really want beef.

Me: Tell Poppy.

Nell: It’s too late now. The chicken’s stuffed.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Never mind. I’ll still enjoy it and there’s always next Sunday.

Me: You’re right.

Nell: Besides, Poppy’s stuffing is delicious and there are bound to be sausages and cranberry sauce.

Me: I’m having Second Thoughts about our roast beef now.

Nell: Stop it.

Me: Sorry.

Me: I can’t believe Jonathan Sky is ten today.

Nell: Truth be told, neither can I.

Me: Surely, it was only yesterday that I held him in my arms as a tiny baby?

Nell: And now he holds you in his arms.

Me: Yes, he does.

Nell: I’ve written him a poem.

Me: Wonderful.

Nell: Would you like to hear it?

Me: Very much.

Nell: Then I’ll begin.

‘It’s time to start cheering

And shouting ‘Hooray!’

Because Jonathan Sky

Is ten today.’

‘He can’t be ten.

This must be a joke.

Wasn’t he seven

The last time we spoke?’

‘Now you’re confusing 

Jonathan with Faye.

She turned seven

At the end of May.’

‘So she did. 

Silly old me.

Time really does fly

When you’re drinking tea.’

‘There can’t be tea

Without birthday cake,

And crisps,

And ice-cream,

And lots of steak.’

‘And you can’t have steak

Without chips, of course,

And lots and lots

Of tomato sauce’.

‘Next year we’ll be joined

By Baby Bear

So we mustn’t forget

An extra chair.’

‘In the meantime let’s party

And spread the joy.

Happy Birthday dear Johnny, 

You wonderful boy.’

Me: He’s going to love that, Nell. Thank you.

Nell: My pleasure. Will you be eating cake?

Me: I’m not sure.

Nell: Poppy’s made a Victoria sponge with strawberries and cream.

Me: How delicious.

Nell: Patrick the Irish Wolfhound will be joining us for tea so I’ll make sure to have a slice before he eats it all.

Me: He sounds like Dave.

Nell: Now, I know you miss the family, particularly on birthdays.

Me: I do.

Nell: So, let’s raise a cup of Earl Grey and a bacon sandwich in celebration of our dear Jonathan Sky.

Me: A bacon sandwich?

Nell: It’s Saturday and Jonathan is ten.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Has Rupert come back from London yet?

Me: No, he’s still up there. Maybe he’s decided to take in the sights. There’s so much to see and enjoy in London.

Nell: Take in the sights? Who are you? The new Visit London representative?

Me: Just saying.

Nell: He might visit the King, I suppose. They did get on rather well the last time they met.

Me: I didn’t know they knew each other.

Nell: Oh yes. The King has a great appreciation of a well-knitted cardigan.

Me: I see. I know Mark Carney’s been in town so they might have had a Canadian catch-up.

Nell: It’s possible. I’ll be glad when he’s home.

Me: Let him have some fun, Nell.

Nell: Harriet doesn’t seem to be having much fun. Look at her face. Is it a fly?

Me: No, it’s just Veronica.

Nell: Veronica?

Me: Dave’s not bothered but Harriet can’t stand her.

Nell: Who is Veronica and why haven’t you told me about her?

Me: Veronica is a magic robot.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: She vacuums and mops the floors.

Nell: Are you being serious?

Me: Kev used his birthday money to buy her. Chris sent us photos of his robot, Jeffrey, cleaning the house and we thought it was a good idea as there’s always lots of dog hair and dirty paw marks everywhere.

Nell: Are you telling me you have a robot living in your house?

Me: She’s only little and she’s very quiet and washes herself regularly.

Nell: I’m not interested in her cleaning habits.

Me: But that’s what she does. She’s a huge help.

Nell: Harriet doesn’t think so.

Me: She’ll get used to her.

Nell: Did you even consider the feelings of others?

Me: Dave’s fine.

Nell: Harriet isn’t.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: How did it go at the hospital?

Me: It went well. Kev doesn’t have to go back unless it flares up again.

Nell: This is good news.

Me: We all went for a lovely long walk in the countryside when we got home.

Nell: I can see.

Me: Everything is turning green again.

Nell: Who are those dogs?

Me: Maya is the fluffy Golden Retriever and Elsie is the Chocolate Lab.

Nell: The one in love with David?

Me: Yes. She dances around him every time she sees him. It’s really sweet.

Nell: David is an engaged animal. He has a lady love.

Me: It’s just a crush, Nell. We’ve all had them.

Nell: Sally wouldn’t be pleased.

Me: Sally wouldn’t care. She knows Dave loves her.

Nell: All the same.

Me: You can talk. You flirted around with Lionel King all the time you were with Rupert.

Nell: I did not. I simply felt sorry for Lionel. Moving on, is that the village in the distance?

Me: Good change of subject. Yes, it is. Look how rich and red the Devon earth is. I always thought it was like that everywhere.

Nell: I see you stopped at my tree.

Me: We always do, Nell. We call it Nell’s Tree.

Nell: I know you do.

Me: I wish there was a bench there.

Nell: There might be one day.

Me: I would love it if there were a bench remembering me when I’m gone.

Nell: Don’t start all that, please.

Me: Somewhere people could sit and think.

Nell: You’re not going anywhere.

Me: Not yet.

Nell: We were talking about me.

Me: Yes, we were.

Nell: Why do you always have to make it about you?It’s my tree and I’m the one being remembered.

Me: Yes, it is. Sorry.

Nell: Why are you up so early? You don’t need to leave for a few hours. David won’t like to be woken.

Me: I had this dream about Rupert being the new James Bond.

Nell: Rupert would never carry a gun.

Me: It was just a dream, Nell. He definitely looked the part.

Nell: Make sure you have everything you need for the journey to the hospital.

Me: I will.

Nell: I hope you’ve allowed time for detours.

Me: Detours?

Nell: They’re fixing the lane to the village.

Me: Oh yes. I forgot.

Nell: How can you forget when there are signs and vans everywhere?

Me: I’ve been preoccupied with my Rupert Bond dream.

Nell: Are you packing a picnic? The hospital’s quite a way away.

Me: Canadians say ‘aways away’.

Nell: I’m not Canadian.

Me: We don’t need a picnic. We’re going to pop into Barks and Spencer for some treats.

Nell: Make sure you pick up a few sandwiches. David and Harriet prefer beef.

Me: You always enjoyed smoked salmon with cream cheese.

Nell: I still do.

Me: Don’t tell me you have a Barks and Spencer up there?

Nell: Of course we do. We have everything.

Me: My mother must be over the moon. Barks was her favourite place to shop.

Nell: She is. We often smile across the aisle when she’s picking up some eclairs and coffee cake for afternoon tea with your sister Alex.

Me: Coffee cake was Alex’s favourite.

Nell: I know.

Me: I really love that idea, Nell. Whenever I go to Barks I think of her.

Nell: You’d better pick up some eclairs then.

Me: Yes.

Nell: And coffee cake.

Me: I will.

Nell: Drive carefully, please, and wipe away those tears. You need to see where you’re going.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: You’re up early.

Me: They’re mending the lane to the village so all the vans gathered at the Bus Stop this morning.

Nell: What vans?

Me: The road menders’ vans.

Nell: I see.

Me: And then I thought we have an early start tomorrow so it’s probably a good thing to be up early so I go to sleep early.

Nell: Why do you have an early start tomorrow?

Me: Kev’s got an appointment at the hospital for a follow-up consultation.

Nell: Are they worried?

Me: I don’t think so. Harriet has an excellent worried face, hasn’t she?

Nell: Maybe she is?

Me: But she doesn’t have anything to worry about.

Nell: You don’t know that.

Me: Kev’s doing really well.

Nell: She might not be worried about Kev.

Me: No.

Nell: She might be worried about Rupert.

Me: Rupert?

Nell: And whatever mission Sally has decided he needs to complete.

Me: Rupert isn’t a spy. He makes cardigans.

Nell: Rupert is much more than a cardigan. His soft blankets and shawls are an absolute joy.

Me: Well, yes, but you know what I mean.

Nell: Rupert would make the perfect spy.

Me: You’ve got a thing about spies, haven’t you?

Nell: What on earth do you mean?

Me: Charlie was one. When we met him he was pretending to be German. Siegfried Schaeferhund.

Nell: I remember.

Me: I’ve had a thought.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: You don’t think Rupert is the next James Bond, do you?

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: They’re going to announce who it is soon. Maybe he’s up in London practising?

Nell: Practising?

Me: How to be a spy.

Nell: Try and be a little realistic, please. Rupert is a Canadian wolf. He can’t be a British spy.

Me: Of course. Sorry.