“That’s not good,” Ma said.
“Exactly. And they’ll do the same to Hamish if he doesn’t have a work card,” Ondine said.
“Stop catastrophising everything, love. Hamish will simply have to fill out some forms at the nearest British embassy.”
Hamish turned to Ondine and then Ma. “I’m afraid it won’t do any good, Missers G. Me birth certificate would say I’m old enough to be retired. Unless my name is Dorian Grey, they’ll not believe me.” [186]
“Oh dear,” Ma said. Time stretched as she pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Then we may have to appeal to the Duke.”
“You mean the Duchess,” Ondine corrected.
Ma shook her head. “Sorry. Force of habit.”
It had taken a bit of getting used to, having a duchess as head of state instead of a duke.
Duchess Anathea was only the third ruling duchess in Brugel’s history, so the entire country had a fair bit of adjusting to make. She wasn’t even the proper duchess as such, she was merely standing in because Duke Pavla was too sick to rule and Lord Vincent too young to take over.
Something scratched Ondine’s memory. The Duke knew Hamish could transform into a ferret, but did the Duchess? The last person Ondine wanted to deal with was the batty Duchess Anathea. They’d become sort-of-friends towards the end of their stay with Duke Pavla, but all the same Ondine wanted to steer well clear of the lot of them. Every member of the royal family made Ondine uneasy in the same way having a heaving mass of spiders on one’s shoulder made a person uneasy.
Ondine, Ma and Hamish looked at each other, and as they kept looking, they kept saying nothing, which meant none of them came up with any alternative ideas.
Up and down went Hamish’s Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. “Go to the top, eh lass?”
Ondine said, “Back to Bellreeve? I feel sick just thinking about it.” [187] [16]
Hamish grimaced. “Mebbe we send her a letter explaining the situation?”
“Good!” Ma said, “That’s sorted. Now, Hamish, you stay in the kitchen, out of sight. Ondi, you’re with me. We have to clear up second dinner and reset the tables for breakfast.”
And to think, before tonight, Ondine’s worries had been all about her name day and what excitement lay ahead for her. This pushed all those lovely, excited, buzzy feelings aside and replaced them with niggly, naggly worries. Hardly a fair trade. Although she was only going downstairs to work, Ondine wrapped her arms around Hamish as if fare welling him for an eternity. “Please be careful,” she said.
“Aye,” he kissed the top of her head, “nothing will keep us apart lass. I’ll make sure of it.”
When they reached the kitchen, Ondine rolled up her sleeves to get back to the washing, only to find a towel, mid-air, drying a plate, also mid air.
“Wh –” She started to say. The towel dropped the plate, which smashed on the ground, the towel fluttered over the broken pieces.
“You’re overtired,” Ma said as she walked in. “Look at all these gleaming plates. I was crossing my fingers they’d be done quickly. Thank you Ondi, you’ve done a wonderful job.”
Puzzled, Ondine looked at what her mother was gabbling about. That’s when she noticed the neat stacks of clean, dry plates and bowls on the drying bench, next to the sparkling glassware and tubs full of glistening cutlery. So much work done in such a short time had to be the result of magic, but Ondine couldn’t fathom where the magic had come from.
Chapter Three
Two mornings later, Ondine woke to the lads and ladies on the radio discussing the magical qualities of the day. This appealed to Ondine no end, because it was her name day, so it was indeed already special.
Snuggling further under the covers, she listened to them blather.
“Green lights all the way to work,” the host said, before adding, “That never happens.”
The other said, “My toast fell off the plate and it landed butter side up, which I think breaks all the laws of physics!”
“We’ve banished Monday-itis. Today is officially Magic Day here in Venzelemma.”
“Small amounts of magic. Give us a call and share your moment of magic with us.”
That suited Ondine just fine as she listened to the shared stories of good fortune. Being a Monday, she should be getting ready for school. What a shame the magic they were talking about on the radio couldn’t chase Monday and the cold weather away.
Judging by the heavy grey skies and the tree branches scraping against the window, a properly cold arctic north wind was dancing through the streets. [188]
A rumble set off in her tummy and a ping of excitement went off in her head. What sort of name day breakfast might Ma and Da have in store for her? After all, it was still two days before the wedding, so she could get a little Ondine attention before everything turned Margi-wards. Thrills zapped through her and she lifted the end of the duvet off her bed to have a sneaky look underneath. Perhaps her parents had snuck a pressie under there during the night? Disappointment weighed her down. The only thing under her bed was a warren of dust bunnies.
No matter, there would be presents downstairs, she was sure of it.
The moving lump in the bed beside her showed Cybelle still asleep, so Ondine dressed quietly. This took some doing, because there wasn’t much room and she kept fumbling and losing her balance, what with it being so cold her fingers could barely move. At this time of year she needed thermal underwear, t-shirt, polo neck and cardigan. She also wore leggings under her denim jeans and two pairs of socks. Then she remembered she had to shower and relieve herself, so it all had to come off again.
Being a school day, she put her summer uniform dress over the top of it all. You may be wondering why she didn’t wear her winter uniform. That’s because they were twice handed down from her sisters and therefore threadbare and revolting. So the summer uniform stayed. Not that you saw much of it because when she went outside she wore an ankle-length life-preserver coat and fur-lined hat with Orschlappen. [189]
Thoroughly trussed up, Ondine walked bulky-legged down the stairs to find her mother stacking folding chairs into their private room behind the kitchen. It used to be a family room, with a table long enough to fit everyone around it. Now it had one small round table where only three could sit, at a squeeze. This was particularly unfair considering how much her family had grown to include three new beaux.
The rest of the space was taken up with boxes of kitchen supplies including doilies and extra thick plastic food wrap. In fact, loads and loads and loads of boxes of extra thick plastic food wrap. Not forgetting the teetering towers of boxes of things for Margi’s wedding. Boxes of bonbonniere, ribbons, linen chair covers, linen tablecloths and napkins, silk flowers and dried rice and carrot seeds for throwing on the bride and groom. [190]
Sneakily, Ondine shifted the boxes and peeked around them, wondering which one was her present. It was the perfect place to hide a box of something, in amongst all these other boxes. Huh? None of them looked remotely like a name day present for Ondine.
Her mother walked in with her arms full.
Ondine said, “More boxes, Ma?” Maybe one of them had her present in it?
“Yes, dear. Give us a hand, will you love?”
“Um . . .” She wondered if her mother was pretending to forget the importance of the day, or if she had forgotten it for real. “Where’s Margi, by the way?”
“Getting her nails done, she’ll be back soon.” Ma wiped her brow as she gave an inventory of where the rest of the family was. “Thomas is picking up his suit, Da is having a haircut and Chef is at the markets. I assume Belle is still asleep. And you, my dear, are helping me before you head off to school. Come on, there’s more in the van.”
“I didn’t think anything was open this early?”
“It’s Decem
ber, dear,” her mother said, as if that explained everything. [191]
The north wind took bites out of Ondine’s neck as she walked outside. The glums gripped harder than the cold weather as she wondered whether her parents really had forgotten what day it was. True to Ma’s words, the delivery van had many more folding chairs that needed to come inside the pub.
“Can’t we stack them in the garden instead?” Ondine hefted a chair in each arm and walked back inside.
“No, Ondi, they’ll get wet.”
“Can I at least have some breakfast first before doing more? Hang on a minute, Where’s Hamish? He’s good at carrying things.”
“Right here.” Hamish walked into the room, which was becoming more crowded by the minute.
Ondine’s heart soared and sweet harp music played inside her head.
Hamish beamed. “Happy name day, Ondi love.” He held out a decorative bag.
“Aw, thank you!” Ondine threw her arms around his neck, whacking her knuckles against cardboard boxes in the process. “You remembered!” Thank goodness someone had! Ondine gave him a rather too saucy kiss, which made her feel warm all over.
Behind them, Ma cleared her throat.
Ondine unclasped herself from Hamish and checked out the bag’s contents. She pulled out the first present and unwrapped the tissue paper.
“That’s from all of us,” Ma said.
Ondine looked to Hamish for verification. Surprise filled his face. Ondine rolled her eyes at her mother’s attempt to be inclusive and ripped the tissue paper away. It was a book, All For Love: The Life and Times of Elmaree, the First Grand Duchess of Brugel.
“Oh wow, thank you so much.”
“Ye like it?”
“Yes. Can’t wait to read it.”
Hamish beamed again. “There’s something else in the bag too.”
Ma cleared her throat again. “That’s from all of us as well.”
Ondine took hold of the small square box and showed it to her mother. “Nice try.” Then she turned back to Hamish, unable to stop grinning. Light beamed from inside as she lifted the lid and saw the sweetheart ring within.
“Oh Hamish.” She held the silver ring up to the light – what little light could get in considering the boxes covering half of the window – and gazed upon the tiny writing on the inside.
“ ‘Mo ghaol ort’. What does that mean?”
Hamish’s warm breath tickled her sensitive skin as he leaned in close and whispered, “It means, ‘My love with you’.”
Happy tears blurred Ondine’s vision. “It’s beautiful! How could you ever afford it?”
He grinned. “The tips have been very good.”
“Yes, we have been rather busy,” Ma interrupted the moment. “Give us a hand with wedding things. There’s a van outside.”
“Of course I’ll help,” Hamish said, giving Ondine a sweet kiss that warmed her all the way to her toes. “Get yerself some breakfast, I’ll help yer Ma with the boxes.”
“Thank you.” Ondine gave him a quick hug and snuck in one more kiss, then headed to the kitchen.
The light was much better in here as she slipped the ring onto her third finger, left hand. It spun loosely, so she slipped it onto the index finger, where it felt snug. [192] A thrill shot through her, because it felt just right.
FOR THE FIRST TIME since Ondine could remember, they did not have a breakfast crowd to feed that morning. The hotel was closed now, just to get them through the next couple of days so they could prepare for – perhaps even enjoy – the wedding. Which would probably go on for a fair while as half the wedding guests were staying on at their hotel afterwards. Ondine stood in the kitchen in the unfamiliar silence, a silence broken by her loud tummy rumble. A hearty warm breakfast for herself and Hamish would be just the thing.
Knowing her family, they’d all want some, so she made double-double measures and set about creating a pan full of scrambled eggs. With bacon chunks and chives.
“Oh it’s you. I thought it might be Chef,” Marguerite said as she trotted into the kitchen, following the smells. She held her fingers out, trying hard not to touch anything so she didn’t mess up her manicure. “That looks fantastic. I’m starving.” With care not to scratch her nails, she picked up the tongs and piled food high on a plate, then added extra cheese, black olives, roquette leaves, sundried tomatoes and potato crisps over the top of her plate, before heaping another spoon full of eggs. [193]
“Jupiter’s moons, are you all right?” Ondine asked.
“Yes!”
“You’re going to eat all that?” There would be plenty for everyone, but not if Margi kept shovelling at her current rate.
Marguerite looked at her like she had two heads. “I wouldn’t put it on my plate if I wasn’t.”
Hamish sauntered in and delivered a beaming smile. “Yer a wonderful lass, making all that. And on yer name day too.”
“Oh! Happy name day Ondi.” Marguerite gulped down a wobbly fork full of eggs. “I’ve got your present on order but it hasn’t come in yet.”
This time it was Hamish’s turn to roll his eyes, making Ondine giggle. At least Hamish hadn’t forgotten her special day. Butterflies took hold in her tummy as she looked at the ring on her finger. How was she going to concentrate at school when every time she looked at her hand – and she’d be looking at it a fair bit – she thought of Hamish?
A twinge of hope – or maybe it was desperation – lodged in her heart.
Maybe her family was teasing her and she’d get her presents at the end of the day.
Or had they completely forgotten about her in the lead up to Margi’s wedding?
Chapter Four
A heavy schoolbag slung over her shoulders, Ondine bounced through the back door with a cheery, “Hello family!” and headed straight upstairs to make a dent in her homework. It wasn’t that she loved homework, but heading upstairs to study would give her family time to organise the surprise.
There would be a surprise, wouldn’t there?
Somebody was bound to come to her room and say there was a job for her in the kitchen. And she’d head down there and they’d surprise her when she walked in. At which point she would act surprised and touched that they’d gone to so much trouble.
Hamish came up with a plate of biscuits and lidded-mug of hot chocolate. “I’m not interrupting ye, just making sure yer all right.”
How she loved to see him in his human form, not least because when he was himself, he could carry treats like these to her room. “Thank you,” she said with a knowing smile. She was positive he was simply making sure she wasn’t aware of what they were up to downstairs.
“I’m nearly done. I’ll be down for dinner later.”
“When yer finished, can I get ye tae look over something for me? I’m writing tae Duchess Anathea for a pardon. Or whatever it is I need tae ask her for tae get the goon squad off my back.”
Worries niggled. This sounded real. Not some made up problem to get her to stay in her room. Ondine felt sure their country’s newest Duchess would remember how Hamish had played an integral part in her rapid change in fortunes. Memories of the Harvest Ball at the Autumn Palace played in her mind. The Duke had been sick, poisoned by his own wife. Hamish had spoken up when it would have been far easier to stay quiet. And they’d discovered the former Duchess’s secret bank account. Surely Anathea would reward his good deeds with some kind of special consideration?
“Absolutely,” she said. “You know I’ll do whatever I can to help.” The admiration in his smile made Ondine feel lovely and warm inside. Until fresh doubt deflated her. “I just realised. I don’t think Duchess Anathea ever knew you could be a ferret. We’ll have a lot of explaining to do.”
“Aye. That’s par for the course for us.” He kissed her sweetly on the lips and gave her the smile s
he loved so much.
“Hamish?” Fear shot through her system. She grabbed his hand as if it might be for the last time. “Promise me if the inspectors come back you’ll get straight out of the dining room, right away?”
“Of course, hen.” His trademark confident smile stayed in place, which only made her worry more.
“This is serious. If anything happened to you . . . well it doesn’t bear thinking about.”
“Och, dry yer eyes lass.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. It was a little patronising and not at all the sort of kiss she expected from him. “Nothing’s going to happen to us.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. I’ll stick to ye like a limpet to a ship’s belly.”
“Not such a great image there.”
“Sorry sweetheart.” He kissed her properly, making her tummy flip at the loveliness of it. When he broke away, his face showed fresh mischief. “Never was much of a one for words.”
He placed the letter to the Duchess into Ondine’s hands, kissed her again and left her to it.
The room felt colder without him. The sooner she finished her homework, the sooner she could traipse downstairs and be with him again. Working at whiplash speed, Ondine powered through her media studies chapter, plotted an essay for Brugelish literature and made ten pages of notes for legal studies. By the time she finished, she felt her brain might leak out her ear, but at least her homework was done for the night. Time for Hamish’s letter to Anathea. She took a deep breath to cleanse her brain.
My Lord Duchess Anathea, (Nice start.) [194]
My name is Hamish McPhee and I am a resident of Venzelemma. Until recently I worked at the Bellreeve Palechia for the former Duke, and was present at the evening of the Harvest Ball. You may recall I came forward at a particularly stressful time for all concerned, and helped discover the former Duchess Kerala’s transgressions. (Skirting around the issue a bit. I’m sure I can make this more to the point).
The Ondine Collection Page 37