Me: It’s strange FaceTiming with you in Paris. Could you take your sunglasses off?

Nell: Not for long. I’m undercover.

Me: How is Knitwear Wolf?

Nell: Happy to see me but annoyed I put myself in danger.

Me: Sally isn’t very pleased with you either.

Nell: Well, I’m here now.

Me: Tell me about your journey.

Nell: It was perfectly pleasant. I had my book to read and picked up a sandwich at Barks and Spencer in London to eat on the train.

Me: They do lovely sandwiches.

Nell: Nothing beats a fresh croissant and coffee in a Paris cafe, however.

Me: I’ll take your word for it.

Nell: I’m going to have to put my sunglasses back on now. There are some rather suspicious looking birds gathering.

Me: Oh dear. Was anyone watching you on the train?

Nell: No. There was a rather annoying pink poodle with ribbons in her hair complaining about something in French and gesticulating far too much for my liking.

Me: How annoying.

Nell: Yes. At one point I leant over and pointed out it was a quiet carriage.

Me: Really? What did she say?

Nell: I have no idea. I don’t speak French.

Me: Does Knitwear Wolf?

Nell: Rupert speaks fluent French. He’s Canadian.

Me: But he’s not a Québécois.

Nell: You don’t have to be from Quebec to speak French. Harriet speaks it too.

Me: I didn’t know that.

Nell: You do. It’s in the second book you still haven’t had published when she pretends to be French, is called Mademouselle Ecarlate, or Miss Scarlet, and wears a veil.

Me: Oh yes.

Nell: Hold on. Rupert is telling me to stop as there are birds everywhere.

Me: Be careful, please, and keep in touch.

Nell: I have to go now.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: Where are you? I went downstairs to get a cup of tea and found the puppies hiding under the kitchen table.

Nell: I told them to keep out of your way.

Me: Why?

Nell: Because I didn’t want you to try and stop me.

Me: Stop you from what?

Nell: Going to Paris, of course.

Me: Going to Paris?

Nell: You’re doing that repeating thing again. You know how it annoys me.

Me: Are you trying to tell me that you’re on your way to Paris?

Nell: Stop shouting. I’m in one of those quiet carriages and not supposed to be chatting on my iBone.

Me: Are you on a train?

Nell: Of course I’m on a train. A horse drawn carriage would take days and I’m not even sure they’re allowed on boats.

Me: Very funny.

Nell: All things considered, I should be in Paris by the afternoon.

Me: What things need to be considered?

Nell: Connections, delays. That sort of thing.

Me: Does Knitwear Wolf even know you’re coming?

Nell: Obviously. We’ve been texting ever since Sally told me he was in danger.

Me: You never told me.

Nell: I’m afraid you’re too much of a blabbermouth and I needed to keep things under my hat.

Me: Are you wearing a hat?

Nell: Of course. The Cat found me a rather attractive beret which goes perfectly with my sunglasses and trench coat.

Me: It’s February so I understand the trench coat, but you don’t need sunglasses. Especially in a train.

Nell: I am undercover.

Me: I give up.

Nell: Good. Maybe I can get back to my book now. I’ve just got to the exciting part.

Me: Promise me you’ll keep in touch.

Nell: I will. Try not to worry.

Me: Far too late for that. Sorry.

Me: Look at Dave with Tony. He brought him a tea towel. Bless him. Darling boy.

Nell: Yes.

Me: You look a little shocked. Does it have anything to do with the Serious Conversation you just had with Sally?

Nell: Yes.

Me: I feel a certain Knitwear Wolf might be involved.

Nell: Way too involved for my liking.

Me: Tell me.

Nell: You’re not going to believe this.

Me: I just might.

Nell: This is strictly between us and your thousands of readers.

Me: Of course.

Nell: Rupert’s been working undercover for Sally.

Me: I knew it.

Nell: Leaping in the air and squealing is not keeping quiet.

Me: I couldn’t help it.

Nell: The Beefies thought he was working for NOIR.

Me: Which he sort of was.

Nell: Yes. As a double agent from the start.

Me: Impressive.

Nell: Rupert gained Sponge Finger’s trust and was commissioned to steal Poppy’s recipe book and bring it to the Beefies for testing in their French Cafe.

Me: I see.

Nell: After its success he collected the book and brought it to NOIR in Paris.

Me: So the motorbike rider was him?

Nell: Yes, but between Kingsbridge and Paris he took it to Sally and the book was copied and the recipes were altered very slightly.

Me: So the NOIR cafes failed?

Nell: NOIR was supposed to blame the Beefies but someone blew Rupert’s cover and now he’s in mortal danger from everyone.

Me: Where is he?

Nell: Still in hiding in Paris and waiting for instructions.

Me: Try not to worry. Sally will get him out.

Nell: Never mind Sally. I’m getting him out.

Me: You’re not a spy. You’re a senior Labrador.

Nell: I am Nell Martin and Rupert needs me.

Me: You can’t go. It’s far too dangerous. Sorry.

Me: I’m glad we had a walk on the beach and everyone enjoyed our reel.

Nell: What reel?

Me: I made a reel for Instagram and our Facebook page with music.

Nell: Whatever next? Anyway, I have to say our walk helped me put everything into perspective.

Me: Good.

Nell: I trust Rupert completely and if he’s in Paris having secret meetings with NOIR then he has a very good reason for doing so.

Me: I agree with you.

Nell: I’m not exactly sure what his reason is at the moment but I’m sure it’s a valid one. Oh, there’s a text from my friend Dorothy.

Me: What does it say?

Nell: ‘Have you seen today’s Daily Growl’?

Me: Oh no. Not more photos of Rupert and the rooks. It still sounds like a band, by the way.

Nell: I’m sure I saw Lionel with a copy of The Growl at breakfast. Go and find it.

Me: Yes, milady.

Nell: Hurry up.

Me: Here it is. I wonder why Lionel isn’t so keen to share it with everyone today.

Nell: Never mind. What does it say?

Me: ‘Tea Rooms are Toast.’

Nell: What on earth does that mean?

Me: Something must have gone wrong.

Nell: What does the article say?

Me: The launch of the NOIR tea rooms yesterday was a complete disaster.

Nell: How delightful. Tell me more.

Me: The scones were heavy, the jam was runny and the sandwiches were soggy.

Nell: But I thought they had Poppy’s recipe book.

Me: So did I.

Nell: Is there any more?

Me: ‘When asked for a statement, Head of Noir, Sponge Finger, refused to comment.’

Nell: It didn’t say that, did it?

Me: Not exactly. No.

Nell: His name is Savoiardi.

Me: I know. I just couldn’t help myself. Sorry.

Me: Is that a rook on the fence? It’s been watching the house for ages.

Nell: Chase it away. I don’t want them anywhere near me. What is Rupert doing having meetings with those horrible birds.

Me: What are you talking about?

Nell: Haven’t you seen today’s Daily Growl?

Me: No, I’ve been writing.

Nell: I thought Lionel must have brought you a copy. He’s shown everyone else.

Me: Shown them what?

Nell: That dreadful photo of Rupert and the rooks.

Me: Sounds like a band.

Nell: This is not a joking matter.

Me: No, of course it isn’t. Show me.

Nell: There. See for yourself.

Me: Are we sure it’s him?

Nell: It looks like him.

Me: It could be another wolf.

Nell: It isn’t.

Me: But he isn’t wearing a cardigan.

Nell: Maybe it’s warmer in Paris.

Me: And Knitwear Wolf isn’t on the run from the British authorities.

Nell: He probably is by now.

Me: There’ll be a very good reason for this.

Nell: How can he do this to me? Why isn’t he answering his iBone?

Me: Have you talked to Sally?

Nell: No, she was called away on urgent business.

Me: What about Harriet? She might know something.

Nell: She’s asleep, or pretending to be.

Me: Was she up late partying?

Nell: No. She and Sally were in meetings until late. David wasn’t best pleased. He wanted a romantic evening.

Me: Poor darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: I’m finding it difficult to believe my own eyes.

Me: Then don’t. It’s the Daily Growl. You can’t trust a word they say.

Nell: I won’t. My Rupert would never do anything wrong.

Me: I’m glad you’ve finally realised he’s your Rupert because you’re his Nell. Or should I say Nellie?

Nell: Don’t push it.

Me: Sorry.

Me: Happy Valentine’s Day, Nell. Did you see the breakfast Lionel has made for us all?

Nell: Not yet.

Me: Fresh fruit, smoked salmon, scrambled eggs and lots of hot buttered toast.

Nell: I’m not really hungry.

Me: Sally is arriving at any moment so Dave is waiting for her with his favourite toy. Darling Big Brave Beautiful Boy.

Nell: That’s nice for him.

Me: And Jim the Farm Dog serenaded Harriet in the rain with a huge bunch of daffodils he picked himself.

Nell: I expect Harriet was delighted.

Me: She was. As for Princess, Sir Roger Blubbery showered her with mackerel this morning.

Nell: Yes. I heard the clapping.

Me: It’s a seal thing.

Nell: Indeed.

Me: Did you receive anything? Only I thought you might have done.

Nell: I did, actually.

Me: Was it a text, or a phone call?

Nell: No. It was two red roses and a note left at the end of my bed.

Me: A note?

Nell: Yes.

Me: What did it say?

Nell: ‘All is not as it seems.’

Me: How intriguing. Was it signed?

Nell: No.

Me: I know Lionel bought you roses because I saw him put them next to your place at the breakfast table.

Nell: Most kind of him.

Me: But who left you that note?

Nell: I have no idea.

Me: Maybe Knitwear Wolf has come back?

Nell: He hasn’t. I would know if he had.

Me: Well, it’s a mystery.

Nell: Yes.

Me: I hope someone isn’t playing games with you.

Nell: I think we should keep this to ourselves.

Me: Really?

Nell: Yes. It was meant for my eyes alone. I shouldn’t have told you, but I had to tell someone.

Me: I won’t say anything.

Nell: You’ve just told your readers.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I can’t bear to see you like this.

Nell: Where has Rupert gone? I thought he’d be back by now.

Me: He might just be away on business.

Nell: It’s not like him to leave without telling anyone.

Me: He must have a very good reason.

Nell: He isn’t answering his iBone.

Me: Maybe he just decided he needed time out for a while. Life is stressful and wolves are solitary animals

Nell: No, they aren’t. A lone wolf is simply seeking a companion. They are pack animals.

Me: That blows my theory out of the water.

Nell: And it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow. Rupert never forgets.

Me: I refuse to believe Knitwear Wolf would do anything bad.

Nell: Why do you think he’s done something bad?

Me: It’s what everyone’s saying.

Nell: Why?

Me: Because of what Henry and Horst saw and the fact that Poppy’s recipe book is still missing and, according to today’s Daily Growl, is probably in the claws of NOIR.

Nell: I beg your pardon?

Me: I thought you’d seen it. Lionel went to get the newspapers and has been showing everyone.

Nell: Not me. What did it say?

Me: ‘Our foreign correspondent in Paris reports that NOIR, the Notorious Organisation of International Rooks, will be launching a chain of tea rooms across Europe with exciting new recipes from the UK.’

Nell: Paris?

Me: I didn’t even know the Daily Growl had a foreign correspondent.

Nell: Why Paris?

Me: It’s where NOIR have their headquarters.

Nell: What else did they say?

Me: Just an interview with Sponge Finger about cream teas.

Nell: Cream teas?

Me: Sponge Finger was waxing lyrical about their new recipe for scones.

Nell: They’ve got Poppy’s recipe book, haven’t they?

Me: Probably.

Nell: And his name is Savoiardi.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

Me: I’m going to miss this view so much when we leave.

Nell: Well, we’re not leaving yet as we’ve had no offers on the house, so just enjoy it.

Me: I’ll try.

Nell: Stay in the now. Worrying about what is to come never helps.

Me: Dave seems a bit down in the dumps.

Nell: He’s missing Sally. It’s nearly Valentine’s Day and he doesn’t know if she has time to come down here to see him.

Me: She usually manages it.

Nell: Yes.

Me: Talking of down in the dumps, you don’t seem too happy either.

Nell: I’m going to have to talk to Rupert about the stolen recipe book. He had every opportunity to give it back to us yesterday and he did nothing.

Me: Maybe it wasn’t him. Henry and Horst couldn’t see the motorbike rider’s face.

Nell: I know, but it was Rupert’s motorbike.

Me: It could have been someone trying to pretend to be him.

Nell: Why?

Me: To protect themselves and cast the blame elsewhere. I refuse to believe Knitwear Wolf would do anything bad.

Nell: I’m struggling to believe it too. The only solution is to talk to him.

Me: You’re probably right.

Nell: Have you seen him this morning?

Me: No, but I’ve been writing and lost in a world of my own.

Nell: He hasn’t delivered the newspapers which is odd.

Me: He’s probably busy doing good. You know what he’s like.

Nell: I thought I did.

Me: Lionel seems in a good mood.

Nell: Thank goodness someone is. He’s bought me some hugely expensive white satin sheets for my bed.

Me: That’s not very you.

Nell: No. But I daren’t tell him I’d much rather have my soft blanket.

Me: I think you should, Nell. I really do. Sorry.

Me: You walked a really long way on the beach.

Nell: I know.

Me: And you posed for Kev while the puppies swam.

Nell: I did not pose. I was having a short break and Kev took a photo.

Me: You never pose for me.

Nell: Moving on, in celebration of the safe return of Henry and Horst, Lionel, Malcolm and Manuel are preparing a Sunday roast with all the trimmings.

Me: Did they find Poppy’s recipe book?

Nell: Don’t you think I would have told you if they had?

Me: Are they using the BBC Good Food website?

Nell: Certainly not. Poppy has been dictating the recipe to me since first thing this morning.

Me: I thought you looked tired.

Nell: I am.

Me: And a little worried.

Nell: I’ve had some disturbing news and I’m not sure what to do with it.

Me: Tell me.

Nell: You must keep it to yourself.

Me: I will.

Nell: Henry and Horst saw something troubling when they were trapped at the French Cafe.

Me: What?

Nell: A motorbike pulled up outside and the rider took delivery of what looked like a book.

Me: Poppy’s recipes?

Nell: Possibly.

Me: Could they identify the motorbike?

Nell: They could.

Me: And the rider?

Nell: They said he looked familiar but he was in his leathers and wearing a helmet so they can’t be sure.

Me: It couldn’t be him, Nell.

Nell: Henry and Horst wouldn’t make something like that up. They’re honourable woodlice.

Me: He would never be involved with NOIR, or the Beefies.

Nell: Of all the animals he is the one I trust the most.

Me: We all do.

Nell: But if it was him, and he has the book, why hasn’t he returned it to us?

Me: I don’t know. Sorry.

Me: I understand Malcolm wearing a chef’s hat, but why was Dave in a sombrero?

Nell: Spillage. When Malcolm released Henry and Horst from the spider web they could have fallen anywhere.

Me: Was Dave up the tree?

Nell: David is a giant Labrador. He was under the tree eating a scone nonchalantly while ready to leap into action.

Me: Can you start again?

Nell: We arrived at the French Cafe and asked for a table next to the palm tree.

Me: Clever move.

Nell: I thought so. A rather rude Beefy with a moustache wearing a long apron asked David to remove his hat because he was blocking the view.

Me: I feel like we’ve been here before.

Nell: David pretended not to understand.

Me: Why?

Nell: He was Mexican and only spoke Spanish.

Me: Dave isn’t Mexican.

Nell: He was then. I ordered a cream tea for everyone while Malcom spotted Henry and Horst in the palm tree.

Me: Were they ok?

Nell: Yes, but the tea was disappointing apart from the scones, which were most definitely made using Poppy’s recipe.

Me: I knew it.

Nell: The cream was whipped and the jam was shop bought so I had plenty to say.

Me: You always do.

Nell: While I asked to speak to the management Malcolm began his rescue mission.

Me: How exciting.

Nell: There was far more excitement to come.

Me: Really?

Nell: Malcolm had just manoeuvred Henry and Horst into David’s hat when Gladys began her interpretive dance and knocked the table over.

Me: Oh dear.

Nell: There was jam and cream everywhere.

Me: Gosh.

Nell: In the ensuing chaos David left with Henry and Horst safely in his hat.

Me: I wish I’d been there.

Nell: I brought you back a scone.

Me: Yes. Sorry.