Season 1 · Episode 21
The Long Night
Published 17th September 2026
Could be Colin.
The Squirrel Circuit
At noon, Stirling’s squad owned the Vegetable Garden.
They moved through it with unnerving purpose: beneath the leaves, along the path, over the low border and back again. One Jack attempted to follow. Two more appointed themselves observers. By the time Mr Jack Daw had asked what everyone was observing, the squirrels had already changed direction.
Colin sang once from the hedge and vanished among a small, restless scatter of other Chiffchaffs. Batman Smith heard the song, looked up, and pointed.
“That one,” he said. “Could be Colin.”
“Could be,” said Mr Jack Daw.
“It is important.”
“Why?”
Batman looked faintly offended that an answer had been requested.
The squad continued its circuit. No Magpie appeared to document it. No pigeon arrived to be located. The afternoon moved on beneath a heavy, pale sky, with only the Jacks left to report what they had not understood.
A Neutral Inspection
Later, a Rook arrived, stood on the Oak for a moment and looked down at the Vegetable Garden as if it had failed to meet a basic standard. He left without explanation.
The Smiths came in next, and with them came the usual problem of territory. One Robin took the bird table. Another objected. Batman arrived to mediate, then inadvertently chose a side, then had to explain that he had been conducting a neutral inspection from the winning perch.
As evening closed, Stirling’s squad returned for a second tour. They moved through the garden in shorter, sharper bursts before disappearing beneath the hedge again. The Jacks waited for Gary.
Gary did not come.
Dusk Has a Plan
By dusk, the Robin quarrels had thinned into weary comments from the hedge. Percy flashed briefly through the Pine, too occupied with his own small business to pause. Flora, Fauna and Merryweather swept past in a neat line, carrying on with the sort of group purpose that made the Jacks feel disorganised.
Mr Jack Daw watched them go. “At least somebody has a plan.”
“That is because they have no committee,” said Batman.
The Long Night
After midnight, a Grey Heron crossed high over the Square, enormous and silent enough to make the Oak look suddenly very small. It did not land. It did not wait. Nobody dared ask it about Nigel.
Then Marjorie called.
Her voice came from somewhere beyond the hedge, with the brisk authority of someone drawing a line nobody had previously noticed. Later, another presence seemed to hover at the edge of the matter, unable to decide whether to come in or turn away.
Batman, awake on the Fence Post, lifted his head.
“Marlboro?” he whispered.
No one answered him.
But Marjorie did.
She returned to the night as though she had chosen to hold the entire discussion herself. Through the long dark, Marjorie made her position perfectly clear, withdrew, reconsidered, and made it clear again. The Square listened for a challenger and found only shadows.
Eventually there was a pause.
Then, from somewhere farther away, came a late, uncertain reply.
“Harold,” Batman breathed.
Mr Jack Daw, who had stayed awake for this, said only, “Perhaps.”
Marjorie had the last word. Whoever had answered gave nothing further, and dawn arrived with the conversation unfinished and every leaf looking as though it had heard too much.
Morning Conclusions
Mortimer appeared as the Smiths began their early-morning patrols. He watched the hedge, the Oak and the slowly brightening Vegetable Garden.
“Any conclusions?” Batman asked him.
“No,” said Mortimer.
Batman waited.
“That is my conclusion,” said Mortimer.
The morning filled quickly. Gary arrived with the Jacks and long-tailed tits, as though he had not left the Square waiting on his theory for an entire night. He looked first at the Fruit Tree, then at the Oak, then at Batman.
“Anything?” he asked.
“You are meant to be telling us,” Batman said.
Gary looked briefly surprised. “I am still collecting.”
“You have been collecting for days.”
“Exactly. A proper theory is not rushed.”
The Smiths disputed this loudly from the bird table. The Jacks supported Gary’s right to collect, provided they were told what the collection contained. Gary declined.
Later, a pair of Rooks took the far branches. The garden grew busier, then noisier. Robin boundaries were redrawn at least three times. The Jacks reorganised themselves around whichever branch offered the most commanding view. No one saw Nigel.
Near the end of the morning, Stirling’s squad returned beneath the Oak.
Gary arrived from the Fruit Tree side at the same moment.
They stopped.
Stirling looked at Gary. Gary looked at Stirling. A Robin on the bird table stopped mid-complaint. Even the Jacks forgot their next point.
Then Stirling’s squad moved on beneath the hedge.
Gary waited until the final grey tail had vanished.
“Well,” he said. “That was informative.”
Nobody knew what he meant.
DUFF. DUFF. DUFF-DUFF-DUFF.