The Seventh Day of Advent - Not So Silent Night

Back at Much Malarkey Manor, Mrs Miggins had completed the Easter Bunny Baskets and was stacking them carefully behind the Valentine hearts and flowers. 

'What next?' she muttered to herself, consulting her calendar. May Day, of course! 'Now, where did I store the Maypole?' she said. 

It was already dark outside, and Mrs Miggins was pretty certain the Maypole was in the gazebo at the bottom of the garden. What she should do, she thought, is wait until the morning and go to the gazebo then, but once she had an idea in her head, she needed to deal with it RIGHT NOW! 'No time like the present,' was her motto. Procrastinate was not a word in the Miggins dictionary mostly because she had once had to use the page upon which it was written as an emergency mop-up cloth for a particularly lax-in-the-bladder-department house guest.

All was still and quiet in the Manor. Normally at this time, Mrs Pumphrey would be in the Music Room practising her preludes, and Mrs Bennett would be home from work and relaxing her aching muscles in the sauna whilst catching up with 'The Archers.' Mrs Slocombe would be getting ready for the arrival of her bridge group, fretting no doubt about whether she had the right biscuits in because everyone knew how fussy Mrs Hoffenpfeffer was about her biscuits. And Mrs Poo would be on her daily cleaning round because she liked a spotless Manor and no-one could keep it quite as spotless as she. 

But this evening a Silent Night reigned. Mrs Miggins pulled on her overcoat and Wellington boots and, taking her enormous torch, marched off into the darkness. As she marched she whistled a happy tune, not because she was anxious about being in the dark on her own, you understand, but because she was rehearsing for the annual 'Whistling Woman and Crowing Hen' competition.

The gazebo was a goodly walk into the gardens at the Much Malarkey Manor, down a cobblestone path, through the lavender walk and under the willow arch. 'It is very dark out here,' said Miggins the Fearless to herself. 'Very, very, very d.....aaaaaaarggghhhhh!!!!'

'Oh my goodness!!' says Daisy. 'What has happened to Mrs Miggins?' 

'I don't know,' says Primrose. 'There could be any number of reasons why she said 'Aaaaaaarggghhhhh!!!'

'For example?' says Daisy.

'She might have trod in some doo-dah,' says Primrose. 'Or got her coat caught on a raspberry cane. Or slipped on a slug, or felt something clammy brush against her cheek, or maybe a burglar has leapt from the bushes and flashed his jewels at her...'

'STOP!' says Daisy. 'You are worrying me. Poor Mrs Miggins! Can we get back to the story? Like now?!'

'Take THAT!!' shouted Mrs Miggins. 'And that and that and THAT!!!' And she swung her enormous torch this way and that, twirling like a dervish and thanking God she had persevered with the Tai-Kwon-Do classes, especially when her sciatica was playing up. The sound of glass and metal connecting with flesh and skull resounded around the garden along with a variety of 'OUCHES!!' and 'EEEKS!!' and 'GEROFFS!!!!'

'I'll teach you to leap out of bushes at defenceless lady hens!' shouted Miggins the Marvellous, Ninja Hen Extraordinaire. 

'Laetitia! STOP!!! It's us!' whimpered two voices, weak and feeble and from somewhere near the ground. 

Mrs Miggins paused in her combat. 'Who is 'us?' she demanded, gripping the torch firmly, ready for more action at the blink of an eye. And she held up the light and shone it on the ground before her.

And there lying in a crumpled heap on the damp grass, were...

'Turtle Dave and Colin Bird!' said Mrs Miggins. 'Well! As I live and breathe, what are you two doing here and what's more to the point, why are lurking in my back garden in the dark?'

She held out her spare wing and helped the turtle and the blackbird to their feet.

'We thought we'd surprise you,' said Turtle Dave. 

'You certainly did that,' said Mrs Miggins. 'Why didn't you come to the front door like normal visitors?'

Colin Bird brushed down his shiny black coat. 'Well, we knew it was bridge night, and you'd likely be busy with the Easter eggs so we thought we'd camp out in the gazebo overnight and then rock up for a bacon roll and a cuppa first thing in the morning.'

'You silly pair of sausages,' said Mrs Miggins. 'Still, whilst you are here, you can help me get the Maypole. And then I'll make us a nice cup of cocoa and toast some crumpets. I must say,' she added, 'that I shall be glad of the company. Everyone at the Manor is out this evening. Mrs Pumphrey has gone on some wild hen chase to look for the Last No L, and Lord only knows where Mrs Bennett, Mrs Slocombe and Mrs Poo have got to.'

'P'raps they'll turn up later in the story,' said Turtle Dave. 

'And the really odd thing is that all their dressing gowns are missing,' said Mrs Miggins. 'And most of my tea-towels, too.'

'Then it is my bet,' said Colin Bird, 'that the three ladies will DEFINITELY be appearing at some point in the very near future. Probably with some sheep.'

The Maypole was retrieved and soon Mrs Miggins, Turtle Dave and Colin Bird were sitting in the kitchen having supper and reminiscing over old times. Mrs Miggins was glad they had come to visit, even though they were looking a bit bruised and battered, and they were glad they had visited, too, because they were fond of Mrs Miggins and besides, they were hoping to wangle an invitation to stay to Christmas.

Across the other side of the world, however, things were not so silent in the night...