Me: What’s the matter with Harriet? She looks really worried.

Nell: She has every reason to be.

Me: Don’t tell me she’s lost her voice too?

Nell: Of course not. Harriet is far too sensible to eat a Spekulatius biscuit.

Me: What’s bothering her then?

Nell: It’s the Christmas Market.

Me: The one in December?

Nell: Yes. Sally says it can’t take place this year unless Harriet can stop the spread of Spekulatius.

Me: But I love the Christmas Market. It’s such fun tasting the mulled wine and the Christmas treats.

Nell: It’s too dangerous.

Me: Can’t Harriet get them to ban all biscuits?

Nell: How’s she going to do that?

Me: I don’t know but we can’t have the Beefies ruining our Christmas.

Nell: I wonder if Poppy can help.

Me: Is Poppy on the Christmas Market Committee?

Nell: No. Why are we talking about committees? Harriet needs to target the one at the top.

Me: I don’t think Santa is behind this, Nell.

Nell: Not Santa. Stephen Seagull. Do keep up.

Me: Oh, I see. Do you think Poppy could threaten to throw in the towel if the biscuits aren’t removed?

Nell: What towel?

Me: It’s a boxing reference.

Nell: I don’t think boxing is the answer.

Me: Never mind.

Nell: She needs to say she won’t dance with Stephen anymore.

Me: He might be relieved. Have you seen the state of him lately?

Nell: He does appear to have turned an unfortunate shade of grey but I think it’s just the leftover dye from Halloween.

Me: Possibly.

Nell: That seagull wants to win Strictly Come Prancing and he can’t do it without Poppy.

Me: It’s worth a try, I suppose.

Nell: The trouble is Poppy wants to win too. There must be another way.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: You’re not going to believe this.

Me: Is Dave’s throat worse?

Nell: No. He’s having Manuka honey on his porridge every day and that seems to be helping.

Me: My poor Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: And PC Panda says nibbling that biscuit was naughty but nothing more.

Me: What a relief. I was worried Dave might end up with a criminal record. So what’s happened?

Nell: One of the Welsh corgi choir has lost her voice.

Me: It’s probably a cold.

Nell: No, it isn’t.

Me: How do you know?

Nell: It came on suddenly just like David’s.

Me: That’s strange.

Nell: My friend Dorothy says they were enjoying a quick cappuccino at Starbarks in Salcombe when the corgi opened her mouth and nothing came out.

Me: Good.

Nell: I mean no sound.

Me: How odd.

Nell: And just moments before she’d been chatting away while nibbling on a biscuit.

Me: It’s ever so rude to talk with your mouth full.

Nell: Good grief.

Me: Kev loves those crunchy little biscuits they give you with your coffee.

Nell: It wasn’t one of those biscuits.

Me: It wasn’t?

Nell: No. It was a Spekulatius biscuit.

Me: They’re delicious with a cup of coffee too.

Nell: That’s not the point. They’re dangerous.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: When Dorothy texted me on our WoofsApp group I told her to take the biscuit and the corgi straight to PC Panda.

Me: Good idea.

Nell: Timothy is examining the biscuit as we speak.

Me: Does Timothy think the Spekulatius biscuits have something in them to make you lose your voice?

Nell: He does.

Me: That’s dreadful. What about Christmas and carol singing?

Nell: Exactly.

Me: Do you want a biscuit with your morning tea, by the way?

Nell: Of course not.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Why the long faces?

Nell: David is in the middle of making a Whispered Confession.

Me: I thought a photo of little Toby on the beach might cheer him up after yesterday’s elimination. Tony sent it to me. What do you mean Whispered Confession?

Nell: David has eaten something he definitely shouldn’t have.

Me: Was it the trifle? It’s an easy mistake to make.

Nell: What trifle?

Me: If he ate it then it was because you judges sent him home in the dance off. It’s called Comfort Eating and we all do it.

Nell: It was the right decision. David and Rhubarb had no chance against Manuel and Rita.

Me: But he’s our Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Did you see Manuel’s leg work in the Argentine Tango? The ganchos were amazing.

Me: He does have eight legs, Nell. It’s an unfair advantage.

Nell: David’s heart wasn’t in it and Rhubarb’s legs were simply too sturdy to cope.

Me: I don’t think someone should be eliminated for sturdy legs.

Nell: You know that wasn’t the reason. The better dancers were put through and there’s an end to it.

Me: What did Dave eat?

Nell: You’re going to have to wait until he’s been interviewed. Timothy is setting up the recording machine right now and PC Panda is on his way.

Me: You are taking this too far, Nell. It was just a mistake. Poppy can make another trifle.

Nell: It wasn’t a trifle. I don’t care about the trifle. It was the Spekulatius biscuit.

Me: The one dropped by a Beefy on the beach?

Nell: Yes. We were all told not to touch it under any circumstances and David still couldn’t resist.

Me: It was only a little nibble.

Nell: Sometimes a nibble is enough.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Are Manuel and Malcolm making breakfast today?

Nell: Yes. It’s pancakes with a selection of toppings both sweet and savoury.

Me: Sounds delicious.

Nell: The llamas are having theirs in the field before Sunday Songs begin.

Me: Won’t they get cold?

Nell: No. They’re wearing dressing gowns over their pyjamas.

Me: I meant the pancakes.

Nell: Llamas don’t care about cold pancakes.

Me: I’m not a fan.

Nell: You’re not a llama.

Me: True.

Nell: Poppy is upstairs in a bad mood. Everyone’s keeping well away from her.

Me: Except for Dave.

Nell: David is allowed to stay because he has no voice.

Me: Poppy’s Argentine Tango went awfully wrong, didn’t it?

Nell: I don’t know why Stephen Seagull though hitting her with a mackerel was a good idea.

Me: I think it was in self defence. She kicked him really hard.

Nell: It was most unprofessional.

Me: Lionel King shouldn’t have clapped.

Nell: Neither should Princess.

Me: She can’t help it. It’s a seal thing.

Nell: I’m afraid Anton and I had to mark it down.

Me: Dave wasn’t himself either. He seemed rather heavy on his paws.

Nell: Rhubarb has sturdy legs. All Bernese Mountain Dogs do. They aren’t well suited to the Argentine Tango.

Me: On another note, do you know why PC Panda is in the living room with Timothy? Has someone been trying to order him for Christmas again?

Nell: No. It’s about the Spekulatius biscuit.

Me: Has there been a breakthrough?

Nell: Well, there’s definitely been a break. Only a slight one, but it seems someone has nibbled a piece of it.

Me: Really? Is it a recent nibble?

Nell: No. Timothy thinks the nibbling took place a few days ago.

Me: Am I under suspicion?

Nell: We all are.

Me: Gosh. Sorry.

Me: Harriet is amazingly good at chasing Beefies.

Nell: Yes, she is.

Me: Both of you girls were really focussed when Kev was explaining strategies.

Nell: Unlike David.

Me: I think he was focusing on finding any stray Spekulatius. He wants to keep everyone safe.

Nell: What’s Poppy’s excuse?

Me: Poppy is having to focus on her Argentine Tango. Stephen Seagull is having problems with his ganchos.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: You know the movement where they flick their legs between each other?

Nell: Yes. I am aware.

Me: There’s been a bit of kicking so now he’s wearing shin pads.

Nell: Oh yes. Malcolm is wearing those too. He needs them if he’s going to try any kind of leg action with Alejandro.

Me: Gosh, yes. A kick from an alpaca could do serious damage to a flamingo.

Nell: Fortunately Alejandro is extremely nimble and has great musicality.

Me: That’s a relief.

Nell: I don’t know what we are going to do about David’s voice.

Me: Yes. My poor darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy is completely hoarse.

Nell: There is no need to make disparaging remarks about David’s size. He may have a hint of a small pony about him but completely horse is going too far.

Me: I meant his voice, Nell. It’s gone.

Nell: Yes, that is disappointing. Fortunately Beauregard has agreed to sing with the Whippets Institute Big Band so all is well.

Me: It’s a shame Michael Bouvier wasn’t available.

Nell: You can’t expect Bouvier to just hop on a plane, you know. He has a very busy schedule.

Me: Yes.

Nell: Lady Baba is booked for next weekend.

Me: Gosh. I expect she wasn’t sheep. See what I did there?

Nell: Just go and get David some throat lozenges.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Nell: Excuse me. Who is that?

Me: Nelly.

Nell: Only Rupert calls me Nelly.

Me: I didn’t mean you.

Nell: You just said my name.

Me: I was talking about Romanian Nelly. She was rescued 5 weeks ago by a lady called Jan. I had a lovely chat with a kind gentleman who takes Nelly for walks on the beach most days.

Nell: Oh.

Me: Nelly was surprisingly open and affectionate considering her past. Not like you at all.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: Nobody could call you open and affectionate.

Nell: I can be.

Me: Only to certain people, almost exclusively male by the way.

Nell: Nonsense.

Me: Kev, Chris, Tony.

Nell: Moving on, did you notice Harriet’s bravery?

Me: I did.

Nell: The Beefies were gathering again but she soon put a stop to it.

Me: She was fearless.

Nell: Yes, fortunately no biscuits were thrown. Did you warn Romanian Nelly not to eat them?

Me: I didn’t know I was supposed to.

Nell: Well, make sure you do next time. Timothy was most insistent that we leave those biscuits alone.

Me: Why? What did he find?

Nell: The usual spices; cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and cardamom.

Me: Delicious. They always remind me of Christmas in Germany.

Nell: And something else.

Me: What?

Nell: He doesn’t know, but it looks Suspicious.

Me: Suspicious? That sounds a bit worrying.

Nell: Yes, and this is a worrying time for Timothy anyway.

Me: I know. I noticed he’d lost a few feathers.

Nell: Stress will do that to you.

Me: I think tomorrow’s Argentine Tango is getting to Dave.

Nell: Why?

Me: He’s got ever such a croaky voice.

Nell: But he’s supposed to be singing with the Whippets Institute Big Band.

Me: I don’t think he will be now. Sorry.

Nell: You’re not going to believe this.

Me: I just might.

Nell: We were down on the beach and hundreds of Beefies were gathering over the sea.

Me: That’s what they do, Nell. We see it all the time.

Nell: This time was different.

Me: In what way?

Nell: There was a real sense of urgency.

Me: The weather was very iffy, Nell. Sudden rainfall which can be quite disconcerting.

Nell: Beefies don’t care about rain.

Me: The ones wearing wigs must do.

Nell: That’s not the point.

Me: What happened next?

Nell: Suddenly something hit Poppy on the head. She looked up at once but the culprit had flown away.

Me: How disgusting. Those seagulls have no manners at all.

Nell: It wasn’t that.

Me: Was it a mackerel?

Nell: Not this time.

Me: What was it?

Nell: We couldn’t believe it when we all saw it. We’d all been looking for ages, even Kev, but it was disguised by the sand.

Me: Tell me.

Nell: It was a Spekulatius.

Me: Bless you. Now stop sneezing and tell me.

Nell: I’m not sneezing. It was a Spekulatius biscuit. You know the spiced shortbread ones from Germany that you get at Christmas?

Me: Why are Beefies throwing spiced biscuits at innocent dogs on a beach?

Nell: Firstly, I wouldn’t call Poppy innocent and when you see her Argentine Tango this weekend you’ll agree with me.

Me: I’m sure I will. And secondly?

Nell: I don’t believe it was thrown. I think it was dropped accidentally.

Me: Did it taste nice?

Nell: We didn’t eat it.

Me: Not even Dave?

Nell: No. David was restrained. Literally. Timothy is analysing it now.

Me: Timothy the Turkey?

Nell: Yes, he has a degree in Forensics. Do keep up.

Me: I didn’t know. Sorry.

Me: Good morning. You’re all looking a little tired.

Nell: Were you wandering around the house last night?

Me: Not really. I had an idea for a story and it wouldn’t leave me alone so I had to get up and write it down so that it did.

Nell: What about the coming into the living room and waking us up part?

Me: I had to check on you.

Nell: No, you didn’t. David and I were perfectly happy until you suddenly appeared in your pyjamas.

Me: I couldn’t go back to sleep until I knew you were safe.

Nell: Safe?

Me: I know what I mean.

Nell: Well, don’t do it again because once David is awake he gets terribly hungry and it’s ages until his breakfast.

Me: Poor darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: Never mind him. You should try listening to the sound of a large Labrador’s rumbling tummy.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: Anyway, we’ve discussed it at Morning Thoughts and the only answer is Nighttime Treats.

Me: Nighttime Treats?

Nell: Yes. They can be placed securely, but conveniently, in a box, or hamper, that can be easily accessed in Desperate Times.

Me: Desperate Times?

Nell: You’re doing that repeating thing again.

Me; Last night was not a Desperate Time.

Nell: Easy for you to say. You went back to sleep after waking us up. You didn’t languish in misery almost fainting with hunger.

Me: What a load of rubbish. You were fast asleep when I came downstairs just now.

Nell: Of course we were. Poppy took pity on us and made everyone scrambled eggs on toast with crispy bacon on the side.

Me: What did the non bacon eaters have with their eggs?

Nell: Smoked salmon, or grilled tomatoes. That’s not the point.

Me: No. Sorry.

Me: I know this might sound a little fanciful to you.

Nell: Here we go.

Me: But those crow, or raven type black feathered birds watching us suspiciously…

Nell: Suspiciously?

Me: They are definitely tracking our every move.

Nell: What about them?

Me: They couldn’t be Beefies in disguise, could they?

Nell: Why would the Beefies want to disguise themselves?

Me: Stephen Seagull did. And you might have noticed he has stayed that way.

Nell: That’s because it takes time to wash the colour out of your feathers. Malcolm was telling me The Cat wants him to go rainbow coloured next week but he’s not keen.

Me: What a shame. I could just see Malcolm as a rainbow.

Nell: Alejandro says he doesn’t mind being the rainbow so Malcolm might just go as the pot of gold.

Me: Golden feathers will be just as difficult to wash out.

Nell: He’ll wear a cloak.

Me: The island is looking particularly beautiful, isn’t it?

Nell: Yes. It seems wrong that Lionel King is staying there.

Me: It does.

Nell: That lion shouldn’t be allowed to roam free.

Me: Especially in a 5 star luxury hotel. How can he afford it?

Nell: Ill gotten gains, no doubt. It certainly won’t be paid for with his judge’s salary.

Me: Did I see you eating a scone earlier?

Nell: You did. Poppy has forgiven me. She and Rupert had a heart to heart chat yesterday evening.

Me: She’s very fond of Knitwear Wolf, isn’t she?

Nell: Yes. Poppy can be extremely fierce when it comes to protecting her friends and loved ones.

Me: Can’t we all.

Nell: There is something of the Beefy about those black birds. You might have a point.

Me: See.

Nell: No gloating, please. It’s a most unattractive trait.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Why are you in the guest bedroom, Nell? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.

Nell: I needed some peace and quiet.

Me: Poppy is in her Palace and seems furious.

Nell: She’s definitely not talking to me.

Me: Is it about yesterday’s dance off?

Nell: Yes.

Me: Voting with Lionel King to send Knitwear Wolf and Myfanwy home was never going to be a popular decision.

Nell: I was not voting with Lionel King. I gave my vote to the most improved couple. Did you see how badly Myfanwy danced?

Me: I think she was scared of Lionel King.

Nell; And Manuel put his heart and soul into that Charleston. His tentacles were free and untangled and his musicality was admirable.

Me: But Rupert is the King of Ballroom.

Nell: I’m not judging the professionals. It is my job to be unbiased. Manuel was the better dancer on the night.

Me: Well, you’ve certainly made him happy. He’s downstairs flipping pancakes like there’s no tomorrow.

Nell: I’m glad.

Me: Knitwear Wolf will forgive you.

Nell: He already has. There was a note for me this morning with the newspapers.

Me: What did it say?

Nell: ‘You did the right thing, Nelly.’

Me: Nelly?

Nell: He calls me that sometimes.

Me: What a gentlemanly wolf he is.

Nell: Yes, but in the meantime that wretched lion is crowing all over the place.

Me: And so are the Beefies.

Nell: Poppy says I’m a turncoat and she may never bake me another scone again.

Me: She doesn’t mean it.

Nell: Sometimes doing right can feel awfully wrong.

Me: I know but the main thing is Knitwear Wolf understands.

Nell: Yes.

Me: And Manuel is the happiest octopus I’ve ever seen.

Nell: He’s the only octopus you’ve ever seen.

Me: Yes. Sorry.