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The Ondine Collection

Page 12

by Ebony McKenna


  Her voice low and dangerous, Ma said, “Show some respect for your elders.”

  “Is that the best you can come up with? Speaking to me like I’m a child? Ma, I’m nearly sixteen. I’m allowed to kiss whoever I like!”

  “It wasnae her fault,” Shambles piped up. “It was all me doing. I took advantage of her, and that must be why I’m a ferret again. I had lusty thoughts and didnae feel worthy of her.”

  Confusion knotted Ondine’s brain. Their encounter had been nothing like Shambles described. The way she remembered it, Hamish had given her a chaste kiss on the cheek, and she’d demanded more. Her cheeks flushed with heat.

  “It’s “whomever”. Now get inside, Ondine – you’re overtired.”[64]

  It must have been pure aggravation that made Ondine say what she said next, because no rational person would have blurted it out.

  “Oh yeah, fine, send me to my room. But while you’ve been so busy spying on me, you haven’t even noticed that Cybelle and Chef are making eyes at each other.”

  “She’s just saying things. Don’t listen to her,” Shambles said, but his intervention made no impact.

  The colour drained from Ma’s face and for the first time in Ondine’s memory, her mother was at a loss for words.

  A huge theatrical yawn escaped Shambles’s little mouth, as if he’d given up on both of them. Or he just wanted to clear the area for the oncoming catfight. “I did me best, ye wouldnae listen. I’m for the laundry. Goodnight, ladies.”

  Heavy, nasty guilt sank into Ondine’s feet. She couldn’t move. She’d just dropped her sister right in it, and Cybelle had done nothing to deserve it. If Ondine believed she was entitled to happiness, weren’t her sisters entitled to the same?

  Which made her a hypocrite of the highest order.

  Between clenched teeth, her mother said, “Go. To. Your. Room.”

  Something made Ondine’s feet move, although her brain felt so fogged she had no idea how she managed to find the way to her bedroom and crawl under the covers.

  Sunlight pierced daggers through the curtain gaps. She feared sleep because of the frightening dreams that might come her way. Should she stay awake and feel miserable, or fall asleep and have her subconscious make her feel worse?

  In the end, the choice was not hers to make. Despite the beams of early morning light in her room, Ondine passed into unconsciousness, just before the worst few hours of her life unfolded.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ondine had the strangest sensation of having had a particularly awful dream. Shambles had become a real man, and a stunningly handsome one at that, but then some force took it all away and he was back to being a ferret.

  As her brain clicked and whirred into wakefulness, she knew it was no dream. Waking up further, she sprang out of bed and clutched her stomach. She wanted to be sick, and for so many reasons. Last night, she’d made a fool of herself in front of Hamish and in front of her mother. Topping it off, she’d robbed her middle sister of any privacy she might have enjoyed while her parents were distracted with Margi and Thomas.

  There was a choice to be made. Get out of bed and face her mother and sister or stay in her room forever.

  A staccato rap on the door put paid to any notion that the choice was hers to make.

  “Ondi, get up, family meeting,” Da said.

  “I want at her first,” Cybelle said. With an angry look that could strip paint, Cybelle burst into her room and slammed the door behind her. Black panda smudges circled her eyes where the neat eyeliner used to be.

  Nasty, heavy things tumbled around in Ondine’s stomach.

  “How dare you!” Cybelle’s face was red with fury. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Henrik’s going to get the sack because of you!”

  “I’m . . . I’m sorry,” Ondine blurted. Hot tears sprang into her eyes and blurred her vision. Who was Henrik again? Oh yeah, that’s what Chef’s name used to be, before he was Chef. “I’m so sorry, Cybelle. I didn’t mean it. I was so angry with Ma . . . it . . . it . . . just came out.”

  Cybelle stood there with her hands on her hips, her lips pressed white in a hard, straight line. Just as her mother’s had been the night before.

  “Sorry’s not good enough! You’ve just ruined my life. I hope you’re happy!”

  With that, Cybelle slapped her hard on the cheek.

  Pain seared Ondine’s face, but she didn’t put up a fight. “I deserved that.” Tears welled again. “Belle, I’m so sorry, I really a –”

  Cybelle slapped her other cheek, spreading the pain. Behind Cybelle, Da charged in and grabbed his middle daughter in a bear hug.

  “That’s enough!”

  Cybelle flailed her arms, kicked her legs out and screamed so hard bits of spit flew out of her mouth, “I hate her, I hate her! She’s not my sister!”

  “Calm down, love. It’s all right, I’ll not sack Chef.”

  A new batch of tears sprang from Ondine, and she covered her face in shame. Heavy guilt roiled in her stomach and curdled her brain. All she wanted to do was stay in her room and cry. Her father would have none of it, demanding her attendance downstairs.

  Not caring what she looked like, Ondine shrugged on a dressing gown and trudged down to the gathering. Old Col sat regally at the top of the table, while Shambles stood before her, pleading his case.

  “What did ye do to me, Col? I thought ye lifted the spell.”

  “I did,” the elderly woman said with a tired shrug. “I’m as much in the dark about this as you. My only guess is the full moon must have played some part. We all know there’s nowhere to hide on the night of a full moon.”

  “Spare yer epithets,” Shambles said.

  Da’s mouth fell open in surprise. “Ondi, I can hear him talk now.”

  If her father could hear Shambles, it would save time with translations. It also eroded any last vestiges of privacy she might have had with him. Not that she deserved any privacy after what she’d blurted out about Cybelle last night.

  Shambles nodded to Ondine to acknowledge her entrance, then resumed his pleading to Old Col, throwing his short arms around as he talked.

  “But I didnae do anything wrong. We all know that. I was being responsible for the first time in my life. It was just a kiss, it was never going tae go any further. Why would that make me turn back into . . . into this?”

  Just a kiss had been the same words Ondine had used. They were a lie so she could save face. But hearing Hamish-as-Shambles say it to someone else, with everyone listening, well, that was a different matter entirely. Maybe to him it was just a kiss, but to her it was everything.

  Old Col looked at the ferret. “Ah, but you see, Hamish, maybe this isn’t a punishment after all. Maybe the full moon shone a light on the kind of man you could be.” Her eyes glistened with confidence.

  Ondine had no idea what the old woman was banging on about. Forget sage advice, this was more like scratching around for answers like a chicken in a compost heap.

  “Enough of that,” Da said, taking his seat at the other end of the table and pulling Ondine down beside him. Cybelle sat across from them so she could shoot her sister filthy looks. The fact that Cybelle also sat beside Chef was not lost on anyone, particularly Josef.

  Incredibly, Ma stayed quiet as Shambles approached Ondine and climbed on to the crook of her arm. If this had been last night, if he’d been a man again, his touch would have sent searing heat into her bloodstream.

  But it was the morning. He was a ferret again. What a passion killer!

  “I am sorry about last night. I’m sorry I made ye cry,” Shambles said.

  “It’s not your fault,” Ondine managed, giving him a wan smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Maybe he was a ferret again because she didn’t want him to leave. Wasn’t that what she’d been turning over in her head yesterday? If he became human again, he’d probably leave. If he remained a ferret, he’d stay with her.

  The head of the household cleared his throat and directe
d his comments to Chef. “I have a blinding headache from last night, so excuse my lack of manners. Henrik, I want to know what your intentions are with Cybelle.”

  They could all tell by Da’s clipped tone that it was not a request. And he’d called Chef by his real name for the first time in ages. Ondine’s heart sank. Their father had been softening so nicely lately – now he seemed to have reverted to caveman mentality.

  Cybelle kept her head bowed, her hands clenched into fists on the table. Every now and then she lifted her eyes to shoot Ondine a greasy look of utter contempt, before resuming her sulk.

  Nobody said anything for a few seconds as everyone else’s eyes fell on Henrik.

  When Henrik spoke, his voice was quiet but determined. “No, Josef. It’s private. This is something between me and Cybelle, no one else.”

  In shock, Cybelle lifted her head and smiled as she looked with pride at her paramour. Henrik glanced back at Cybelle, and traced his fingers over her white knuckles.

  Nothing came out of Da for a moment, such was his surprise. He swallowed and started again. Like a spluttering lawn mower, it took a while before he got a good spin going. “You will tell me, because it concerns my daughter, and your tenure here as an employee,” he demanded.

  So he was about to sack him? Ondine couldn’t believe how nasty her father sounded.

  “Remind me never to play poker with your da,” Shambles whispered.

  “I heard that,” Josef said, turning his now-famous frosty stare towards Ondine, which nailed her to the spot. After he’d turned her blood to ice, he looked over everyone at the table. “Who else heard him? Show of hands.”

  Gradually, everybody raised a hand to about shoulder height, even Henrik.

  “All of you?” Ondine blurted.

  They nodded. Her heart sank. There really was no privacy in a large family. Judging by the extra people sitting around the table, hers was about to get larger.

  Shambles piped up, “That’s great news! If ye can all hear me, it must mean the spell is breaking.”

  Da turned to Henrik, waiting for an answer from his earlier question.

  Henrik kept his voice low and steady as his eyes locked with Josef’s. “Mr de Groot, if you sack me, you’ll be minus a chef. I’ll go and find another job. But it won’t stop me seeing Cybelle. Only Cybelle can decide that.”

  A strange icy feeling spread through the room. “That’s right,” Cybelle said in little more than a whisper as she touched Henrik’s arm for support. “If Henrik goes, I’ll go too. Then you’ll be short one chef and one daughter.”

  Blotches of red bloomed on Da’s face, while the veins on his neck doubled in size and threatened to burst. Ondine felt she might be sick from all the excitement.

  “What he means is, he wants what’s best for Belle,” Ma interrupted. “We want you to be happy, sweetheart.”

  “My head is killing me,” Da said by way of explanation. “I know this is coming out wrong, but this is all a big shock to me.”

  Henrik spoke again, “It’s only an hour till lunch, so if you want to sack me, better do it now, otherwise I’ve got work to do.” At that he rose from his seat.

  Josef said nothing more.

  Henrik kissed the top of Cybelle’s head, not gloating in victory, just confirming that he and Cybelle were united. A team.

  A stab of jealousy pierced Ondine’s heart as she watched her mother wrap her arms around Da’s shoulders in comfort, while Margi rested her head on Thomas’s shoulder.

  Hope sank like a stone as she sat there with a talking ferret instead of the real man he should be, a real man she could fall in love with.

  Things then took a turn for the worse as Ma looked towards her.

  “Ondine, you may give me that apology now.”

  It would have been so convenient if Melody or even Mrs Howser had come in at that point, to break the tension. No luck – they were sleeping off the party. As they weren’t family, they’d been spared the meeting. A hard lump formed in Ondine’s throat as she swallowed. She’d never shouted at her mother like she had last night, and it called for a grovelling apology. Everyone was looking at her, and it made it that much harder to deliver when all she wanted to do was crawl into a cave. Preferably one with a big rock she could shove over the entrance. Life as a hermit held tremendous appeal.

  “I’m sorry, Ma.” Ondine’s voice was barely above a whisper as she bowed her head.

  “Didn’t quite catch that,” Ma shot back.

  Ondine tried to swallow again. “I’m sorry, Ma.” This time it came out like a squeak, but it was louder and at least her mother would hear it.

  “For what?”

  Ondine lifted her head and looked directly in her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Ma, for being rude to you last night, and for answering back, and for implying you talk out of your ear.” Tears blurred her vision.

  Ma smiled and said, “Thank you, I appreciate that. Now you may apologise to Cybelle.”

  Oh great, she had to go through it all over again.

  “I’m so deeply sorry, Belle, for betraying your trust and telling Ma about something I shouldn’t have.”

  “I don’t accept it. You had no right to say anything, you –”

  “Belle, that’s enough,” Da interrupted.

  An uncomfortable silence descended around the table.

  Ma cleared her throat. “Good. Now go to your room, Ondine. You’re grounded until I say so. I’ll let you say goodbye to Melody and Mrs Howser, but that’s it. And then we’ll talk about changing your electives for school. Joining the ski team is no longer an option.”

  Something heavy drained out of Ondine. It could have been her fighting spirit, or perhaps her sense of justice. Had her parents just taken her choices away from her? For what? Gossiping about her sister? She couldn’t move her legs. Shock rooted her to the spot.

  “You’re going to take my ski lessons from me because I was rude?”

  Da spoke up. “No, we’ll need to change your electives because we can’t afford them any more. You’ll need to choose classes that have the least number of excursions and the cheapest textbooks. We now have two weddings to plan and they cost more than your education.”[65]

  “What?” Cybelle looked shocked. “Why should I get married? I’m not getting married! Nobody gets married any more.”

  “I don’t care how modern you think you are, there are some traditions I insist on. You are getting married. That is one argument you will not win,” Ma said.

  Forget her sister not wanting to get married, Ondine was still reeling about her curtailed studies. “But what about all the jewellery and money you kept?”

  It was Ma’s turn to blush. “It’s gone, Ondi. We spent it on renovations. That’s why we couldn’t afford to close the dining room last night. We need everything we can get.”

  Shame and frustration made Ondine’s chin wobble out of control. To add to her misery, she felt hot splashes of unrestrained tears on her cheeks.

  Just kill me now, my life is over.

  “And leave Shambles here. He’s not to be in your room again.”

  “I’m sorry, lass,” Shambles said, leaning up to give her a cold, wet and a little bit whiskery kiss on her neck.

  There was nothing for Ondine to do but trudge up to her room and rot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A couple of hours after the horrible and soul-destroying family meeting, somebody tapped lightly at Ondine’s bedroom door.

  “What?” she moaned, not even bothering to disguise the misery in her voice.

  “It’s only me,” Melody whispered. “Can I come in?”

  “I’m grounded. I’m not allowed to have friends anymore.”

  Melody came in anyway, and closed the door behind her with a soft click. “I heard about what happened. It’s awful.”

  As she stepped closer, Ondine noticed the girl had a floppy, leather-bound notebook in her hand.

  “You’ll have to narrow it down. It’s all awful,�
� Ondine said, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “Hamish turned back into a ferret, Cybelle hates me, I’m grounded, and my parents can’t afford to pay for the classes I want to do because they want Belle and Chef to get married. Be careful Ma doesn’t find you in here – she’ll ground you too.”

  “She can’t ground me,” Melody said.

  “Nah, you’re right, she’ll just ground me twice.” Ondine sighed. Pitifully, with all the pathos she could muster, she said, “I know why they call it grounding – because it grinds you into the dust and makes you give up hope.”

  “Then I came just in time. Look what I found.” Melody held out the book for Ondine to see.

  It looked soft and old on the outside, and inside the pages had handwritten notes, except for the ones at the back that were left blank.

  “It’s someone’s diary. But it’s hard to read because the writing’s all scrunched up,” Ondine said.

  The diary pages had a well-preserved feel about them, as if it had been sealed up in the dark somewhere for a long time.

  “I think it’s Old Col’s,” Melody offered, her eyes opening wide with wonder.

  “Where did you find it?” Ondine tried to make out the scrawled handwriting. Squinting didn’t work. She held the pages further away from her face. That didn’t work either. “It’s all just scrawl, page after page of it.”

  They looked at the pages in silence, trying to make sense of the bunched-up lettering. “Where did you find it, Mel?” Ondine asked again.

  “Um . . . Look at this page, I think I can make out what it says.”

  Avoiding the question confirmed Ondine’s suspicion. “Did you steal it?”

  “Oh no, I would never steal,” Melody said, making a crossing movement over her right breast.

  “The heart’s on the left side.”

  Hastily, Melody made a crossing motion over her left breast before confessing, “It came to me in a dream.”

 

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