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says from now on.’
    The men conferred, mumbling among themselves.
    ‘What equipment can we use to defend this sweet shop?’ asked Vincello.
    ‘Any military equipment you like,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Just no guns or explosives. The mothers wouldn’t like that. They are reluctant enough to let their children come over to our house for a play date as it is.’
    The soldiers looked at each other and nodded. They were in agreement.
    ‘You’re on,’ said Vincello.

    The morning of what in future years would be known as The Battle of the Dulsford Sweet Shop dawned. The soldiers had set up a large reinforced barricade on one side of the sweet shop, and to defend the other side (because it was a corner shop and therefore vulnerable on two fronts), they had parked an enormous tank.
    ‘Tsk, tsk, tsk,’ said Nanny Piggins.
    She, Boris and the children were hiding in the bushes of a garden opposite, using binoculars to watch everything the soldiers did. ‘Those naughty boys. I told them no guns.’
    ‘I guess they think a tank is okay if they don’t actually fire it, they just use it as a blockade,’ said Derrick.
    ‘I’m impressed by their deviousness,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Perhaps they learnt more from me than I realised.’
    ‘Do you still think we can win?’ asked Samantha.
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I have plenty of tricks up my sleeve.’ Nanny Piggins glanced at her watch. ‘In fact, it’s time to deploy our first weapon.’ Nanny Piggins took out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. ‘Cue the first assault.’
    ‘Are you going to use a cannon?’ asked Michael hopefully.
    ‘No, something much more dangerous,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘Here she comes.’
    The children peered through the bushes and saw the distinctive perfect blonde curls of seven-year-old Margaret Wallace as she rode her tricycle down the street. She looked so sweet and innocent in her perfectly ironed pink frilly dress and pigtails. Margaret stopped right by the barricade.
    ‘Go away, little girl,’ hissed Vincello from behind the barricade. ‘This is a military training exercise.’
    Then Margaret Wallace did the unthinkable. She burst into tears. ‘I want my mummy!’ wailed Margaret, with startling volume for such a diminutive child.
    ‘Shhhh, shush,’ pleaded the soldiers. ‘We can’t help you, we’re busy.’
    ‘I want my mummmmmy!’ wailed Margaret, even louder.
    Nanny and the children could hear the soldiers arguing among themselves. Eventually Vincello stuck his head out from behind the barricade, looked both ways to see if the coast was clear, then ran out to Margaret Wallace and gave her a hug.
    Nanny Piggins nodded approvingly. ‘I knew Vincello was leadership material.’
    ‘It’s all right,’ said Vincello. ‘If you come in the shop we can call your mummy from there.’
    As he picked Margaret up and turned back to the shop, Margaret’s face was turned to where Nanny Piggins was hiding. Margaret gave a big wink.
    ‘She’s in,’ said Nanny Piggins triumphantly.
    They watched Vincello carry Margaret back to the shop, and as soon as he unlocked the front door, Nanny Piggins stood up, whipped a bugle out of her handbag and blasted a resounding signal.
    Two hundred neighbourhood children simultaneously jumped out from their hiding spots all around the sweet shop. Unlike the unimaginative soldiers, the children had thought to attack on all six sides (left, right, front, back, the rooftops and below, through the cellar via the green grocer next door). They all ran, leapt and launched themselves at the sweet shop among the deafening sound of cheers, whoops and shrieks of delight.
    ‘That’s awesome,’ said Derrick, ‘but surely the soldiers will be able to hold them off. They’re just children.’
    ‘I have another secret weapon,’ said Nanny Piggins. She took out the walkie-talkie again. ‘Melanie, you’re up.’
    In an instant Melanie, the fat lady from the circus, burst out of her hiding