The Porcelain Pig

Auntie Tabatha Ain't No Fool

Gregory Mont Gordon sat at his solid oak desk hammering his fingers into the wood in frustration. Gregory Mont Gordon was usually a reasonable man with a mild manor and sensible temperament, but on this day, despite all the odds, something had got up his knickers and had given them a right twisting. His man servant Pip stood a few feet away twitching nervously (pip was prone to twitching whether he was nervous or not) awaiting some instruction. None came, for Gregory was waiting for a most important guest, a guest that was already ten minutes late.

In the corner of the room, shifting uncomfortably was the family solicitor, Mr Gabbais in an oversized leather chair, his clammy hands wrapped around a pile of paper work, the contents of which was making Mr Mont Gordon so irritable, it was a will, a will that determined who would inherit a rather sizable fortune that had previously belonged to a now very stiff Mrs Condyle who had tragically passed away after an unfortunate dog walking incident started in the park but ended in the lake. Mrs Tabatha Condyle had no children, only a dead husband, two dead brothers and a small ugly dog that survived the fatal dunking. Her only living relatives (of a human nature) were two nephews, one of which was Gregory Mont Gordon, the other was his cousin Fred.

Her estate was to be divided between the two of them and Gregory was most anxious to find out what he had been left. He had been kind to his elderly aunt the last few years, kinder than the old cow deserved. He fetched and he carried, he flattered to the extreme and even politely excused a most vicious biting from her ghastly pet. Fred on the other hand you wouldn't see for love nor money, he'd amassed quite a nice fortune over the years that left him able to afford a sizable house in the country a good few miles away from London, making his visits few and far between. The poor man was also terrified of horses and since no one had invented a contraption that allowed travel without them he was stuck, much to Gregory's delight.

When Aunty Tabs died he had sent Gregory a letter stating his intentions to return to the city for the funeral and he would willingly offer any assistance needed to sort out her affairs afterwards. Gregory would have thought his cousin would be anxious to hear the reading of the will as Tabatha was leaving behind many valuable possessions, a large house and a good sum of money but it seemed he thought nothing of keeping them all waiting.

"he always was a scoundrel that boy" Gregory hissed, checking the clock on the wall. A few more seconds ticked on and Mr Gabbais cleared his throat.

"I don't suppose there is a chance of some more tea Greg, mine seems to have gone cold" he held out his teacup and pip stepped forward to take it from him.

"you might want a napkin boy" Gabbais noted.

"sir?"

The seated man looked down at the papers in his lap and pip followed his gaze to see two damp patches outlining the exact shape of Gabbais' hands where he had been clutching the will.

"I get a little nervous about these things"

Pip twitched slightly but went about gingerly taking the cup from the apologetic solicitor while Gregory pressed his nose against the glass of his office window hoping to catch sight of his cousin coming down the street.

Unfortunately, he did

Appearing over the horizon, hair blustering in the afternoon wind was Fred...riding an Ostrich

Gabbais and Pip watched as all the colour drained from Gregory's face.

"is something the matter Mr Mont Gordon?" Gabbais asked, concerned that his client may drop dead giving him another will to read (his sweat glands were overworked as it was)