Me: Why is my Big Brave Beautiful Boy hiding in the armchair?

Nell: Poppy is looking for him.

Me: Why?

Nell: The Gala Pie has disappeared.

Me: What’s a Gala Pie?

Nell: It’s basically a pork pie with an egg in the middle but that’s not the point.

Me: No.

Nell: Poppy made it for the Welsh corgi choir’s Spring picnic.

Me: It’s not really picnic weather yet.

Nell: No, but it’s Spring and it’s a corgi tradition.

Me: What’s Dave got to do with it? He’s not a corgi.

Nell: David was supposed to carry the pie out to the choir after Sunday Songs.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: But somehow the pie has been lost.

Me: He hasn’t made a mistake in quite a while, Nell.

Nell: True.

Me: And he was awfully good at Mole Watching.

Nell: That’s another thing.

Me: What is?

Nell: He’s still doing it.

Me: Doing what?

Nell: Mole Watching. Have you seen the way he watches Roley Moley?

Me: Well, Roley Moley is a rather fascinating creature.

Nell: I must say I have never come across such a well-mannered mole before.

Me: Yes, he makes Malcolm look positively uncouth and Malcolm is the politest flamingo I know.

Nell: Malcolm could never look uncouth.

Me: No.

Nell: And what a beautiful speaking voice he has.

Me: Yes. Very Anthony Hopkins.

Nell: Or Richard Burton.

Me: It’s a Welsh thing. We have lovely voices.

Nell: But David doesn’t need to watch him quite so closely.

Me: You don’t think he’s jealous, do you?

Nell: Of Roley?

Me: Yes.

Nell: Why?

Me: Sally and Roley certainly seem to have a close bond.

Nell: They just work together.

Me: Maybe that’s why Dave ate the pie.

Nell: That’s nonsense and you know it.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: You look exhausted, Nell.

Nell: Can you blame me after yesterday?

Me: We should tell everyone what happened.

Nell: Go on then.

Me: Well, Terry arrived at the gate with a rather round mole wearing spectacles.

Nell: Unnecessary detail.

Me: I like to set the scene.

Nell: The surprise was that Squawk was behind him ushering him along and telling him to confess.

Me: Which wasn’t the plan.

Nell: No. We all gathered in the living room and Terry said he bumped into Squawk and the mole on his way over here.

Me: That’s when Poppy pointed her sword at him and said, ‘Explain your text to Nell’ in a fierce voice.

Nell: Terry denied sending me a text and said he’d lost his phone. But Squawk laughed and said ‘Admit you have been secretly working with the Beefies to clip innocent animals and sell their fur after storing it in the moles’ underground tunnels.’

Me: That was a bit shocking.

Nell: Not as shocking as Squawk saying, ‘All this time you were pretending to be a good friend but I knew otherwise. You see I am Sally’s mole.’

Me: We gasped, didn’t we?

Nell: We did.

Me: Then a voice said, ‘I think you will find, sir, that if anyone is Sally’s mole, it is me. My name is Roley Moley and I’m a member of the Secret Service. Your days of being a double agent are over.’

Nell: You could have heard a biscuit drop.

Me: Or pin.

Nell: It seems Sally suspected Squawk, so she asked Roley to go undercover. Squawk thought Roley was helping him frame Terry.

Me: Why?

Nell: Squawk guessed Sally was becoming suspicious.

Me: Now we finally know the mole story.

Nell: I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: Has anyone arrived yet? The traitorous undercover spy should be here with a mole soon, if Sally is right.

Me: Not yet. Dave is cleverly concealed behind the gate.

Nell: He’s not supposed to be. Sally asked us to act normally.

Me: You’d better tell that to Gladys and the llamas then.

Nell: Why?

Me: They’re wearing raincoats and dark glasses.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: And I’m sure I saw Our Penguin in the bushes.

Nell: Was Princess there, too?

Me: I don’t think so.

Nell: Knitwear Wolf said he might take her down to the sea.

Me: I’d rather he stayed here.

Nell: Yes. Rupert is a great comfort.

Me: So, when the traitorous undercover spy arrives with the mole we all have to pretend to be pleased?

Nell: Yes. Otherwise they will know that someone has told us and Sally’s undercover agent will be at risk.

Me: I’m glad we aren’t calling them all moles. I was getting confused.

Nell: Nothing new there. I wonder why Sally spoke to me first?

Me: You’re the matriarch, Nell. We all look up to you.

Nell: Probably. Was that my iBone?

Me: Yes. You have a message.

Nell: Would you read it to me, please? I don’t have my glasses.

Me: It says: ‘Good news. I’ve managed to trap a mole. I’ll bring it straight over. See you soon. Terry.’

Nell: What?

Me: Shall I read it again?

Nell: Did you say Terry?

Me: Oh Nell. Does that mean what I think it means?

Nell: The mole can’t be Terry. He’s a good Beefy. He’s my friend. I trust him.

Me: We had better tell Sally.

Nell: Sally suspected Terry, didn’t she? That’s why she warned me first?

Me: Yes.

Nell: But she needed it confirmed.

Me: I’m so sorry.

Me: Where were you?

Nell: With Sally.

Me: Come and see the funny photos I took on our walk yesterday. It was so lovely to be out again.

Nell: Very nice.

Me: Look at the one of Kev and Harriet playing football. It’s a real action shot.

Nell: I’m not in the mood for photos.

Me: What’s the matter? Has something happened?

Nell: I’ve just had a rather worrying conversation with Sally.

Me: Oh dear. What about?

Nell: Moles.

Me: I’m getting tired of moles, to be honest. Everything is about moles, or Mole Watching, at the moment.

Nell: This was about a very different kind of mole.

Me: There are bound to be lots of different species, Nell. Are we looking for a particular one?

Nell: Can I trust you?

Me: Always.

Nell: Sally has a mole in the Beefy camp.

Me: Are we talking about informants now?

Nell: We are.

Me: We guessed that already and we know who it is, don’t we?

Nell: Yes, although we didn’t have all the facts.

Me: What do you mean?

Nell: The mole just told Sally that the Beefies have a mole in our camp too.

Me: Do you mean there’s someone here we trust who we shouldn’t trust?

Nell: I do.

Me: That’s shocking.

Nell: And Sally says that someone is about to arrive here with a mole.

Me: Our mole, or their mole?

Nell: A real mole. They’re going to claim they captured it.

Me: So our mole says their mole is going to bring us a real mole?

Nell: Yes.

Me: How will we know the real mole is real?

Nell: Because it’s a mole. But that’s not the point.

Me: Isn’t it?

Nell: It will reveal the identity of their mole to us.

Me: Oh yes. Sorry.

Me: Dave can be awfully magnificent when he wants to be, can’t he? Look at the way he’s standing on the chair.

Nell: I know. It’s a little extreme. He was up late last night watching Marvel movies with Henry and Horst and now he thinks he is some kind of super hero.

Me: He is to me. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: He’s even asked The Cat to make him a cape.

Me: Well, he’s certainly focussed on something.

Nell: He’s on Mole Watch Duty. He needs to be alert.

Me: I think he’s watching Babycakes Gillespie. He’s outside with his bagel cart causing quite a disturbance.

Nell: He hasn’t run out of doughnuts again, has he?

Me: I don’t know, but his bagels seemed to have turned green.

Nell: Don’t be silly.

Me: And there’s a really large hairy dog dancing with the llamas.

Nell: Is it an Irish Wolfhound?

Me: It might be.

Nell: Is it wearing green?

Me: Yes.

Nell: That explains it then.

Me: Does it?

Nell: It’s St. Patrick’s Day.

Me: Oh yes. Of course. I’d forgotten.

Nell: All our food will be green today. Poppy likes to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day.

Me: Does she have Irish blood?

Nell: Probably. Somewhere. Poppy’s heritage is a little confused.

Me: She’d make a wonderful leprechaun.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: We had better make sure we wear something green, or we will get pinched.

Nell: I worry about you sometimes.

Me: The dancing is getting a little wild.

Nell: I hope that’s coffee they’re drinking and not Guinness.

Me: I used to like a drop of Guinness in my youth. It was grand, so it was.

Nell: Was that an Irish accent?

Me: Only accidentally.

Nell: Well, don’t do it again.

Me: No. Sorry.

Me: Is Poppy waiting for a delivery? She seems extremely focussed with an undercurrent of fierceness, and I fear for the delivery people.

Nell: Poppy is on Watching Duty if you must know.

Me: What’s she watching out for?

Nell: Moles.

Me: Moles?

Nell: Yes. Please stop repeating everything I say.

Me: Moles. Ah, I see. Interesting.

Nell: Why are you tapping your nose?

Me: I’m giving you a sign.

Nell: Why?

Me: It’s an ‘I see what you mean’ sign. Letting you know that I understand what’s going on.

Nell: Do you understand what’s going on?

Me: Not really.

Nell: Well, don’t tap your nose then.

Me: Do you think you could let me know what is going on, Nell. Only I feel awfully in the dark here.

Nell: Like the moles.

Me: Do you think they don’t know what’s going on either?

Nell: They know exactly what’s going on. Mark my paws.

Me: Poppy seems awfully small to be Watching alone.

Nell: Don’t let her size fool you. There is nothing small about Poppy.

Me: What’s she going to do if she sees a mole?

Nell: Sound the alert and we will grab them.

Me: Who will grab them?

Nell: It depends where the mole is. Various animals, birds and insects have been stationed across the outside areas waiting to pounce.

Me: I don’t think Henry and Horst could grab a mole.

Nell: No. They have other skills.

Me: My money would be on The Cat.

Nell: Yes. Although, there is always an element of risk when The Cat is involved.

Me: Sequins?

Nell: No. Claws. Cats can get easily carried away.

Me: Yes. Nobody wants a Holey Moley.

Nell: I can’t believe you just said that. This is not a joking matter.

Me: Of course not. Sorry.

Me: What’s going on?

Nell: The puppies are Investigating.

Me: What?

Nell: Mole hills.

Me: Is Dave doing what I think he’s doing?

Nell: Marking the spot?

Me: You could call it that.

Nell: Yes. It’s important work and David is the best dog for the job.

Me: If you say so.

Nell: It’s not me doing the saying. It’s Sally. These Instructions have come straight from the top.

Me: Do we know why?

Nell: Let’s just say that we have reason to believe the moles are involved.

Me: Really?

Nell: An extremely suspicious line of mole hills has been detected in the fields.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: And they are all leading down to the sea.

Me: Do you think it has something to do with the mysterious clippings?

Nell: There’s been another incident. A long haired poodle woke up to find itself short haired.

Me: So it was clipped in its sleep?

Nell: Yes, and no sign of hair anywhere.

Me: Was it a Standard clip, or more of a Continental?

Nell: That’s not the point. I just wish Terry wasn’t involved.

Me: He’s not the clipper, is he?

Nell: Don’t be ridiculous.

Me: But he’s been meeting up with Squawk secretly and he’s a Beefy.

Nell: Yes. I know.

Me: Does Sally?

Nell: Of course she does. I told her.

Me: What did she say?

Nell: She tapped her nose with her paw.

Me: Itchy nose?

Nell: No. It was a sign.

Me: Do you think Sally let Squawk go on purpose?

Nell: I’m sure she did.

Me: And Terry is going undercover by pretending to be Squawk’s friend?

Nell: It’s possible.

Me: Why are you tapping your nose?

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Oh, I see. You’re giving me a sign.

Nell: Well spotted, Sherlock Martin.

Me: Sorry.

Nell: There’s an awful lot of singing going on out there. The Welsh corgi choir are in full voice.

Me: Wonderful, isn’t it?

Nell: Yes. It is Mother’s Day and mothers deserve to be celebrated loudly.

Me: So do you.

Nell: Never mind me. It’s only my 9th birthday.

Me: Why don’t you go outside and have a proper look, Eeyore? You might be surprised.

Nell: Well, goodness gracious me. The field is full of animals in colourful hats and the llamas are holding a great big banner.

Me: What does it say?

Nell: ‘Happy Birthday Darling Nell.’ I am really touched.

Me: And what are they singing?

Nell: It sounds like ‘Hello Nelly, well Hello Nelly, it’s so nice to have you back where you belong.’ I haven’t been anywhere and I’m not called Nelly.

Me: Never mind that. Now they are singing Happy Birthday.

Nell: Is that a cake?

Me: Yes. Lemon drizzle. Your favourite. Poppy made it first thing this morning while you were asleep.

Nell: How delightful.

Me: There’s roast chicken for lunch with all the trimmings and a late afternoon tea with finger sandwiches, scones and cake. No diets today.

Nell: David will be relieved.

Me: I’ve written you a little poem, too. Would you like to hear it?

Nell: Very much.

Me: ‘A certain someone I know

Has a birthday today.

A someone I love

More than words can say.

A someone who likes to speak her mind.

Who is wise and witty

And deceptively kind.

That someone is Nell.

Who else could it be?

If I didn’t have Nell,

I couldn’t be me.’

Nell: Thank you. Now, what exactly do you mean by deceptively kind?

Me: Happy Birthday Nell.

Nell: Happy Mother’s Day. We’re in this together, you know. Always.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Could I just point something out to you?

Nell: David has a very dirty face.

Me: Yes, but doesn’t he look adorable? Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy smiling away.

Nell: He is filthy.

Me: That’s because Kev took Dave and Harriet running off lead in a secure field.

Nell: Without me.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Or Poppy.

Me: They were trying it out to see if it is a suitable place to go as an alternative for when the beach is too busy.

Nell: My opinion is obviously of no value.

Me: Rubbish. Anyway, that wasn’t what I wanted to point out.

Nell: And it’s my birthday tomorrow.

Me: I know.

Nell: I shall be 9 and a senior dog.

Me: I know that too.

Nell: Everybody seems to have forgotten all about me because of Mother’s Day.

Me: We haven’t forgotten. Honestly.

Nell: I don’t mind sharing my day with mothers as long as it is still my day.

Me: It’s only mothers in the UK. The other mothers celebrate on a different day.

Nell: Whatever the nationality of the mother it’s still my birthday.

Me: What I want to say, Nell, is that you seem to have taken all the beds, including Dave’s new one, and the blanket.

Nell: And your point is?

Me: You’re not really using any of them.

Nell: I don’t want muddy dogs in the beds.

Me: I see.

Nell: It makes it most unpleasant for any other dog, bird, insect, or larger animal who might be thinking of resting there.

Me: You’re not like this when you’ve been out on a walk.

Nell: So you are happy that David just climbed on your chair and spread mud all over your pillow, are you?

Me: What?

Nell: I rest my case.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Where have you all been?

Nell: Busy with Kev downstairs.

Me: Why?

Nell: It just arrived.

Me: What did?

Nell: The new bed from Fifi la Beefy. Knitwear Wolf found it in front of the door when he was delivering the morning papers.

Me: How exciting.

Nell: It was addressed to Ms Nell Martin from The Boutique of Madame Fifi la Beefy.

Me: Very posh.

Nell: It was so securely wrapped that we couldn’t open it.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Don’t worry. David went and asked Kev to help and he dealt with it swiftly.

Me: You could have asked me.

Nell: It takes you half an hour to get downstairs, let alone open a great big parcel. You’re injured. Remember?

Me: True. So what’s the new bed like?

Nell: Poppy is investigating it now.

Me: With her sword?

Nell: No. Paws and nose.

Me: I hope it isn’t bugged.

Nell: Henry and Horst and their associates are going to do a thorough check later. Never fear.

Me: Well, make sure you keep me posted.

Nell: I don’t have time for letters. I shall simply come upstairs and tell you.

Me: Never mind.

Nell: Talking of telling, I have something very important to share with you.

Me: Go ahead I’m all ears.

Nell: Don’t be silly. I received a disturbing message from one of my WoofsApp groups yesterday.

Me: Pilates?

Nell: No. Book Club. Squawk was spotted enjoying an evening stroll along the quay with another Beefy.

Me: That’s not disturbing.

Nell: It was Terry.

Me: Terry? I thought he hated Squawk.

Nell: He does.

Me: I suppose they are brothers and seagulls and members of the same wicked gang, so they have a lot in common.

Nell: They do not. Terry is nothing like Squawk.

Me: No. Sorry.