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later. ‘It’s not a couple,’ he said. ‘It’s a Herald.’
    ‘As in “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”?’ asked Nanny Piggins.
    A man dressed in purple tights, crimson bloomers and an old fashioned velvet tunic with gold trim stepped into the room, and blew a trill on a trumpet. Everyone flinched, partly because unaccompanied trumpet music is dreadful, butmainly because it is a tremendously loud noise in an enclosed space.
    ‘Hark,’ said the Herald.
    ‘Ooo, it is just like in the song,’ said Nanny Piggins.
    ‘I come with great tidings from the Royal Palace of Molavadina,’ said the Herald. ‘Her Royal Highness the Princess Annabelle has requested your immediate presence in the principality, to assist in the preparations for her imminent nuptials.’
    ‘Her immi-what-whats?’ asked Nanny Piggins.
    ‘She’s getting married soon,’ explained Samantha.
    ‘Ooooh,’ said Nanny Piggins, catching on. ‘The Princess wants a cake.’
    ‘His Royal Highness the King of Molavadina,’ continued the Herald, ‘has a private jet waiting to fly you out to the principality immediately.’
    ‘I will need to bring my elite cake-making team,’ said Nanny Piggins shrewdly.
    ‘Who?’ asked Michael.
    ‘Shhh,’ chided Derrick. ‘I think she means us.’
    ‘Of course,’ said the Herald. ‘His Highness has decreed that no expense be spared in making Princess Annabelle the finest wedding cake ever made.’
    ‘That would have to be pretty fine,’ said Nanny Piggins. ‘I made a triple-choc fudge cake last week that was dangerously good.’
    The children nodded their agreement. (In the end Nanny Piggins had decided the cake was too good to use at a wedding and they had eaten it all themselves. Nanny Piggins reasoned that it would be unfair to start the young couple off with a cake that good, because then they would spend every day for the rest of their marriage moaning about how they wanted another slice.)

    Nanny Piggins and her elite cake-making team soon arrived at Molavadina. (She had recruited Hans into the team because she thought she could use some professional help. And also because she still felt guilty about his accident, and wanted him to have a nice overseas holiday.) The capital was a beautiful city with cobbled roads, and narrow little shops weaving up the steep hillside to the royal castle at the cliff top overlooking the sea. When they got to the castle they were immediately taken to meet Princess Annabelle.
    Nanny Piggins instantly knew she was in thepresence of a kindred spirit, for the Princess was eerily beautiful, which was surprising because extremely chubby women are not normally thought of as the beautiful type. But Annabelle was undeniably so, particularly when she spoke of cake. The happy subject made her cheeks glow and her eyes sparkle.
    ‘Now,’ said Nanny Piggins, ‘I am planning to make you my standard wedding cake. That is an octo-choc-chocolate cake with extra chocolate.’
    ‘What’s that?’ asked Princess Annabelle.
    ‘A chocolate cake with chocolate icing, chocolate filling, chocolate sprinkles, chocolate chips, solid chocolate base, solid chocolate on top, and chocolate cream,’ explained Nanny Piggins. ‘Have I forgotten a chocolate?’
    ‘Entirely dipped in chocolate,’ reminded Michael, who had been counting them off on his fingers.
    ‘Oh yes,’ said Nanny Piggins.
    ‘That’s eight types of chocolate,’ said the Princess. ‘But what about the extra chocolate?’
    ‘It is served with a piece of chocolate on the side,’ explained Nanny Piggins.
    ‘That sounds perfect,’ exclaimed the Princess, clapping her hands with delight. ‘Do you have a picture you could show me?’
    ‘Of course,’ said Nanny Piggins, handing Princess Annabelle a sheet of paper, ‘Here is a drawing I whipped up on the plane.’
    ‘Oh,’ said the Princess, her face dropping slightly. ‘It looks delicious, but it just looks like a regular chocolate wedding cake.’
    Nanny Piggins