Page 9 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
But that wasn’t the point here.
The pig was the point.
“Nana, the pig! How did it get here and why was it running around the roads last night when I was on my way here?” I demanded.
Nana clasped her hand to her chest, then picked up what I was now sure was a miniature pig.
At least I hoped it was a miniature pig. I didn’t fancy a fully-grown pig snorting its way through what was technically my house.
“Beatrix, did you get out again? I’ve told you about that!” Nana scolded her.
Gramps sighed into his sandwich as my sister and Julian edged away from the kitchen.
“Your sandwich is still on the right,” Hazel whispered, slipping past me.
“I told you the cat flap was a bad idea,” Gramps grumbled, following my sister out. “At least without setting the app up.”
“I can’t work that blasted thing,” Nana said, going after him. “I tried logging in, but it wouldn’t accept my name.”
“Did you make an account?” I questioned, sitting in the armchair by the undecorated Christmas tree.
“For what?”
“The cat flap app.”
“No,” Julian said. “I offered, but she thought I’d drop her phone. In all honesty, I’m surprised that dinosaur can handle any apps at all, and it definitely wouldn’t break even if I did drop it.”
That sounded like my grandmother.
For all Gramps’ bleating about the younger generations, she was the one who struggled with modern technology. He happened to be utterly fascinated by it.
Like a cat in front of a fish tank kind of fascinated.
Loved it, but not enough todoanything about it, mind you. Hence his own dinosaur phone.
I sighed. “I’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Although I’m not sure how I feel about a pig in the kitchen. Aside from the legalities of feeding farm animals from your house, it is unsanitary. And you’re technically supposed to notify your landlord of any pets,” I added with a look in Nana’s direction.
She deliberately avoided my gaze.
Imagine that.
“Thank you,” Hazel muttered, picking a big slice of tomato out of her sandwich.
“And pigs aren’t gluten-free,” Gramps interjected brightly.
Julian’s lips twitched. “As long as Beatrix didn’t touch my sandwich, we’re fine.”
“Beatrix wouldn’t touch anyone’s sandwich!” Nana insisted as the pig in question trotted into the living room and dropped to lie down in front of the fire.
We all looked at her.
Except Nana.
Who continued eating herporksandwich like it was no big deal.
I wasn’t going to be the one who pointed out that she was eating one of Beatrix Trotter’s friends, that was for sure.
I drew in a deep breath before slowly letting it out and looked at Hazel. “Shall we get to the wedding stuff when we’re done?”
