YIPPEE, only six sleeps 'til Christmas – or 12 if you like a 20-minute lunchtime power nap sat on the office toilet with your head slumped against the toilet door.

After months of growing excitement and building anticipation, it's almost here – the day we find out who killed Lucy Beale? Wait a minute, according to the Radio Times, the big reveal isn't going to happen until December 30 at the earliest. What am I going to do now before Downton Where's the Abbey now? Talk to the family? Play bored games. That's no spelling mistake. Pah to that.

The smart money is on Cindy Junior but I have a theory that it was a failed mugging by Dot Cotton – those menthol cigarettes are more than £7 a packet these days.

Anyway, it was only going to be a matter of time before the lid was lifted on the fight/book club which meets every first Monday, except in the summer when the space is used by a mother and toddler group, in the grounds of Thornborough Hall, Leyburn. The secretive group's cover has been blown despite the strict rules. Rule number one: don't talk about the fight/book club. Rule number two: don't talk about the fight/book club. Rule number three: No overdue books and keep the noise down.

Nobody has come forward yet to admit their involvement, although several names have been suggested for the scuffling pensioners, although quite what Sylvester Stallone and Jean-Claude Van Damme were doing in Leyburn is not clear.

Some people, me mainly, have questioned why the police didn't take action. Would scrapping teenagers collared outside on a pub on a Friday night be treated the same? I suppose we will find out soon enough, if they ever find the door leading out of their bedrooms.

Of course, it was a serious situation that could have resulted in dire consequences, and it's wrong to make light of violence, but oh to overhear the conversation when the gentlemen got home.

"Leyburn busy love?" asks wife of battling pensioner.

"No fairly quiet, although I did get into a fight outside the library which resulted in the police being called," pensioner replies.

"That's nice honey, did you manage to pick up my prescription from the surgery?" asks wife, not really listening.