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“So why don’t you? Go places, I mean,” said Prunella.

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably because Odelia is a small-town reporter, and so we like to stick close to our small town so she can write about our small-town adventures?”

“You have to think bigger, Max,” Prunella enjoined. “Think global!”

“Global,” I muttered. “But the world seems so… big.”

“It is big, but also fun. Now where are Harriet and Brutus?”

“Is that Prunella’s voice I’m hearing?” suddenly someone said somewhere in our vicinity. And when I looked closer I saw that Harriet and Brutus were hiding on the other side of the hedge.

“Are you playing hide and seek?” said Prunella good-naturedly. “Cause if you are, you’ve lost this round.”

“Hey, Prunella,” said Brutus as he emerged from his hiding place and shook a stray leaf from his person. “We thought we’d hide from Odelia’s guests and this place is as good as any.”

“You mean those two mutts? But they’re harmless.”

“Harmless but very annoying,” I said.

“They treat us like surfers,” Dooley added sadly.

“Yeah, they think the sun shines from their behind,” said Harriet, causing Dooley to give her a puzzled look.

“How can the sun shine from their behind?” he asked. “That’s impossible.”

“It’s just an expression,” I said. “It means they think the sun rises and sets on them.”

“But the sun does rise and set on them, doesn’t it? And on us, too.”

“Of course it does, Dooley, but they seem to think the sun revolves around them.”

This gave my friend plenty of food for thought, for he was quiet for the next couple of minutes as he worked this out.

“Our home isn’t our home anymore,” Harriet lamented. “The Boggles have taken over and they’re driving us all crazy.”

“Odelia first and foremost,” I said. “Which is why we need to reconsider our plan to move in with Charlene, you guys. Odelia needs us now more than ever.”

“I guess she does,” Harriet agreed. “Though she brought this on herself. She should never have agreed when Tessa asked her to host those awful Boggles.”

“Odelia is a nice person,” I said. “She doesn’t like to say no to her friends.”

“So why don’t you try and get rid of the Boggles?” Prunella suggested.

“Easier said than done,” I said.

“Yeah, I have the impression they’re here to stay,” said Brutus.

“Look, Opal once had a guest I couldn’t stand,” said Prunella, “so I simply made his life miserable and in the end he left. It took some scheming on my part, and Opal wasn’t happy with me for a while, but you know what they say: the end justifies the means.” She shrugged. “So I simplydid what I had to do.”

We all fixed her with a curious look.“So what did you do?” asked Harriet.

Prunella smiled.“If I tell you, will you take me to your cat choir tonight? Ever since you told me about that I’ve been dying to join your choir.”

“Of course,” said Harriet. “You can even sing first soprano if you like.”

I frowned at our friend. This was big. Harriet would fight anyone to the death if they dared to try and take away that particular privilege. It just goes to show how fed up she was with the Boggles.

“Well, the secret is—“

But what the secret of getting rid of unwanted guests really was would have to remain a secret for a little while longer, for at that exact moment Tex joined us in the backyard, dressed once more in his coveralls, hard hat and high-vis vest. This time he was also donning safety goggles and looked ready to jump on board Jeff Bezos’s or Elon Musk’s or Richard Branson’s spaceship and take a trip into space.

“Neighbor, oh neighbor,” a voice sounded from the other side of the hedge.

“Ted,” said Tex unhappily.

“About my gnome. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but someone demolished the pride of my collection.” And to show Tex that he wasn’t kidding, he held up what was left of a pretty large garden gnome. “See? Big Papa’s head is gone. Pulverized.”

“Have you considered that his head might have simply collapsed, Ted?”

“Collapsed? What are you talking about?”

“Plaster fatigue, Ted. I’m talking about plaster fatigue.”

Ted stared at his neighbor.“You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not. Plaster fatigue is real, Ted. One moment you have a healthy, fine-looking gnome, and the next—poof! He’s gone. Collapsed into a pile of dust.”

For a moment, Ted was speechless as he stared from Tex to the remnants of his gnome.“Plaster fatigue,” he murmured. “How about that?”

“Or it could be plaster rot, of course. The two conditions are equally fatal for your garden-variety gnome.”

“But I bought it from a reputable seller, Tex. A very reputable seller.”

“Don’t believe everything you read online, Ted. There’s a lot of frauds out there. Frauds and thieves. They’ll prey on innocent collectors like us.”

“Is that a fact?”

“Absolutely. So next time before you buy a gnome online, come to me first.”

“I will do that, Tex. I will definitely do that. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, neighbor. Us gnome collectors have to help each other.”

“That’s… very kind of you.”

“It’s a gnome-eat-gnome world out there.”