Season 1 · Episode 20
Twenty Minutes
Published 15th September 2026
It is now, said Batman.
The Bird Table Border
The rain had barely cleared by noon when Batman Smith discovered that the bird table had become a border dispute.
Several Robins occupied it. Several more objected from the hedge. Batman arrived on the Fence Post with the grave expression of a bird who had been given jurisdiction over weather, food and common sense simultaneously.
“This is not a border,” said one Robin.
“It is now,” said Batman.
Above them, the Jacks observed with professional delight. Derek worked down the Oak. A few passing Chiffchaffs flickered through the hedge with a small travelling party of tits, and Batman briefly lost track of which song he had intended to question.
“Colin?” he called.
The nearest singer vanished into leaves.
“Unhelpful,” Batman said.
Mildred, beneath the bird table, continued not being impressed.
Gary Reviews His Theory
By early afternoon, Gary had taken the Fruit Tree.
“I have reviewed my theory,” he announced.
“You do not have a theory,” Batman said. “You have a missing pigeon and a mood.”
“Exactly. A missing pigeon does not disappear without seeing something, being seen by something, or making an appointment he has forgotten to tell us about.”
The Jacks paused.
“That last possibility is quite Nigel,” admitted Mr Jack Daw.
Gary looked pleased to have received even this much support. He spent the warm, bright part of the afternoon visiting the Fruit Tree, the Oak and the hedge with the air of a bird checking whether a clue might have become visible while he was elsewhere.
It did not.
The Square’s attention drifted as the light softened. A single squirrel crossed below the Oak. Mortimer appeared briefly in the upper branches, regarded Gary’s ongoing investigation, and left without providing the sort of remark everyone had hoped would make it meaningful.
Gary Observes the Garden
Later, the Jacks filled the Oak again. Gary returned. As evening approached, Stirling’s squad appeared around the Vegetable Garden and the lawn. Grey shapes moved in quick, purposeful circuits beneath the leaves. Gary kept to the Fruit Tree, watching with bright, interested eyes.
Stirling did not look up.
The squad continued through the first cool darkening of evening. Gary appeared on the lawn side, then the Oak side, then the Fruit Tree again, each arrival casual enough to make Batman suspicious on principle.
“Are you following them?” Batman asked.
“I am observing a garden,” said Gary.
“From three different places.”
“It is a large garden.”
By full dark, the squirrels had disappeared. Gary had also gone. The Jacks were left with nothing but the hedge, the wet grass, and a strong sense that somebody should have written something down.
Marjorie Calls
After midnight, a Grey Heron passed over the far gardens, broad-winged and remote beneath the clouds. Nobody called after it. The garden had learned that some visitors were better allowed to continue.
Then Marjorie called.
Her voice came from the darkness beyond the Oak, close enough to turn every head and brief enough to leave them waiting. It came again a little later, fainter this time, as though she had carried the matter farther into the night.
No answer followed.
Much later, Marjorie returned from beyond the hedge. Her voice reached the Square once more, then dwindled into the distance. The Jacks, awake on the Oak’s lower branches, declined to make a committee of it. This was considered progress.
A Properly Suspicious Interval
Dawn brought Robins, Jacks, and the sort of wet bright morning that made every leaf look newly invented. The Smiths resumed their territorial negotiations at once. Batman attempted to mediate, which involved standing in the middle and speaking more loudly than anyone else.
Gary appeared briefly beside the Fruit Tree. He stared at the empty ground below, then at the Oak, then along the hedge towards the Vegetable Garden.
“Still nothing,” Batman said.
“No,” Gary said. “Still something.”
He flew off before Batman could decide whether that was an answer.
The morning passed through a shower and into a busy grey bustle. Jacks gathered. Robins argued. Derek ignored the ordinary uses of trees. Then, later, the rain broke and a patch of brightness opened across the lawn.
Gary came back alone.
He landed on the Fruit Tree and did not call for an audience. He looked towards the Oak, then down the path, then at the empty patch below him. After a moment, he flew away again.
The Square resumed what it had been doing.
Only later did Stirling’s squad arrive.
They emerged beneath the hedge and swept along the lawn in a purposeful grey surge. The Jacks fell silent. Batman turned from the Fence Post. A Rook and Mortimer watched from the upper branches without appearing to agree on anything.
Stirling’s squad worked the path, the Oak roots and the Vegetable Garden border. No Magpie came back to comment. No Fruit Tree inquiry followed. Eventually the grey shapes disappeared under the hedge, leaving the garden still and ordinary-looking again.
Batman glanced at the empty Fruit Tree.
“A properly suspicious interval,” he said.
Mr Jack Daw looked at him. “What?”
“Nothing,” said Batman. “Probably.”
DUFF. DUFF. DUFF-DUFF-DUFF.