The grin she gave him sent a heavy, sinking feeling into the pit of his stomach.
‘That must be it. Weasel your way out of that one!’
The minutes dragged like hours, until towards the end of the evening, Ondine finally heard Old Aunt Col summon her to sit beside them at their table. The wrinkles on her face and her gnarled, arthritic fingers may have given the woman an appearance of age, but her mind still cracked as fast as a whip.
‘Ondine, come here, child. Hamish has something he wishes to say to you,’ Aunt Col said, motioning to the ferret, who sat near the edge of the table with his head bowed.
‘Aye, lass, I do. But before I go on, I want to tell ye how much I appreciate everything ye’ve done for me. Ye’ve taken me in and provided for me. I couldnae asked for more.’
Fear gripped Ondine’s heart and gave a good squeeze. His words sounded so ominous. Her hands wobbled, so she clasped them together to hold them still.
‘Aunt Col has lifted the spell, but I think I’ve been a ferret so long I’ve forgotten what I used to be. She says it’s up to me now, but I’m nawt sure I know how to be me again. Ye’ve shown me what it means to be part of a family, to work together and make a real go of it.’
Ondine pleaded with Aunt Col. ‘Change him back!’
‘I already have. He’s responsible for his life now.’
‘But you turned him into a ferret in the first place,’ Ondine protested.
‘That’s true, but spells only work on willing recipients. I did call him a weasel for being so horrible to me and ruining my big night, but he must have believed it to make the spell work.’
‘So why isn’t he changing back then?’
A sad little voice piped up, ‘Because ah’m nawt worthy of ye.’
Ondine noted the drawl in his accent, proving just how deeply embarrassed he felt. ‘Don’t be silly. Of course you’re worthy. You’re helping out around the pub and you prevented the Duke’s assassination, for goodness’ sake. They’re pretty worthy things in my book.’
The little ferret gave a sigh and said, ‘Yeah, I guess so.’
But he didn’t sound convinced.
A tear trickled down Ondine’s cheek at the thought of Hamish living the rest of his life trapped in that little body.
‘Ach, dry yer eyes,’39 Shambles said, his accent sounding even thicker with remorse. ‘Ah know ye were looken forward to me being human again, but ye’ll have to wait a bit until I get mah heed right.’
Now who’s the psychic one?
Later that night, when all was quiet, Shambles sneaked into Ondine’s room. In automatic response to seeing the ferret near her bed, Ondine patted the pillow and made room for him.
‘Nay, lass, I just came to bid you goodnight. Now get yer sleep. I’m for the laundry.’
A heavy feeling tugged at Ondine’s heart. As if she were missing him already. ‘You don’t have to sleep down there, Shambles. Ma knows you’re here anyway.’
‘All the more reason to stay in the laundry. It’s nawt appropriate for me to be in yer room. I’ve taken advantage of yer . . . hospitality . . . enough.’
Ondine heard the emphasis on the word and chose to ignore it. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out because her mind had gone blank.40 Possibly because all she could do was imagine how lonely she’d be without him snuggled in beside her. For a while Ondine sat there in her bed, while Shambles stood there in the middle of the floor, neither saying anything for what felt like the longest time.
Finally, Shambles sighed. ‘I think yer aunty’s right. I have to behave like a man. I think mebbe if I go with her we might be able to find some spells that might help.’
He was leaving? How would that help anyone?
‘Sham– no, Hamish?’ Ondine cleared her throat. ‘You’re the only one here who doesn’t treat me like a child. Please don’t start now.’
‘Yer nawt a child, that’s for sure.’ The ferret shook his furry head. ‘You’re the smartest one here. And that’s why I have tae go. I’ll only drag ye down if I remain.’
Nothing he said made any sense. ‘You’ll at least stay for Margi’s party tomorrow night, won’t you?’ Ondine tried to sound reasonable, while in her heart she felt very close to begging. Only she wouldn’t beg, and she wouldn’t whine, because that would betray how mature she was trying to appear.
‘One last party, eh? Well, OK, if it means that much to ye.’
Ondine’s shoulders sagged in relief. She hadn’t realised how tense she’d become during the course of their conversation, but now she sighed out loud with the reprieve. Maybe she could convince Aunt Col and Shambles to stay with them? After all, they had room for plenty more under their roof.
Shambles made for the door, but stopped before he left.
‘Is there something else?’ Ondine asked.
‘Yeah, there is. Yer ma told me about Lord Vincent. She said he was making puppy eyes at you in the dining room the other day.’
‘Thanks, Ma.’ Ondine flushed.
Shambles shrugged. ‘Big families are short on privacy.’
‘What about Lord Vincent?’ she asked, as a fresh wave of tingling spread across her wrist at the memory of his kiss.
‘You’re a smart girl. I think you already know.’
‘And if I wasn’t smart? If I was only a child. What would you tell me?’
‘I’d tell you to stay away from him, because he reminds me too much of me.’
With that, Shambles walked out of her room, leaving Ondine with a sinking, empty feeling inside.
That night, as Ondine slept, she tried to dream of Lord Vincent, but her subconscious wouldn’t let her. Instead, Melody, her friend from Psychic Summercamp, appeared. Pang! Ondine had meant to keep in touch with her friend, but things had become so busy she hadn’t found the time. In the dream, they were sitting in a field of flowers, at dusk on a balmy summer’s evening. Fireflies danced around them. It was a lovely, calm scene, and Shambles appeared (eating a sausage, of course, because any time Ondine thought of Shambles it was associated with eating). It all felt so peaceful, Ondine wanted the dream to last for ages.
‘Mrs Howser wants to see you,’ Melody said.
Her friend’s words brought a change of scene. It became dark and a cold draught played around her legs, yet a bright spotlight shone on her. Shambles stopped eating and cried out in pain, clutching his belly.
‘We’re coming,’ Melody said.
‘I’m dying,’ Shambles said.
Ondine sprang awake, dripping with perspiration while her heart thundered behind her ribs, threatening to burst free.
‘I’m not psychic, it was just a dream,’ she said to the empty room.
So why couldn’t she convince herself?
Not sleeping properly made Ondine grumpy. When Melody and Mrs Howser arrived in the dining room late the next afternoon, her heart sank and she became even grumpier. Not because she didn’t like them, but the fact that they were here in person meant perhaps the rest of last night’s dream might come true as well. The bit that didn’t end well for Shambles. Still, she hugged Melody hello.
‘Hey, Ondi, it’s good to see you! Did you get my message in your dream?’ Melody beamed. ‘I’ve cracked astral projection at last. Mrs Howser’s been so helpful. Is Shambles still here?’
‘Th-that was you?’ Cold dread snaked through her system.
‘Yes! I’m still not sure how much came through. I used a new technique, but I was in your dream last night, wasn’t I? I can tell because you’ve gone pale. Oh dear, I didn’t go overboard, did I?’ Melody blurted.
Ondine wanted to be sick.
‘Aren’t you going to show us to a table?’ Mrs Howser asked as she hitched a multitude of coloured shawls over her shoulders. High summer, but the woman acted like she had a chill. ‘You can tell us how you’re getting along with Shambles. I’ve actually missed him.’
Remembering her manners just in time (and taking a deep breath so she could rein in her nau
sea), Ondine invited them to take a seat, then dashed to the kitchen and returned a few minutes later with a pot of steaming tea.
‘We’re flat out, to tell the truth. We have a pretty full dining room tonight, and it’s Margi’s engagement party to Thomas after that. Hi, Thomas,’ she added, as the topic of conversation walked in, bringing a decanter of wine to the patrons on a nearby table.
‘I know it’s your sister’s engagement party,’ Mrs Howser said with a haughty tone. ‘Your mother invited us, in exchange for me graciously returning the remainder of your tuition fees. Even though I was under no obligation, due to you leaving in somewhat hurried circumstances.’
Gulp.
‘Hey, Ondi. Thanks for stringing up the fairy lights in the garden – they’ll look great in the dark,’ Thomas said.
Ondine felt eternally grateful for Thomas’s interjection. She was really starting to like her future brother-in-law, and felt a little glow of extra love for her eldest sister. Margi had chosen well.
Melody piped up, ‘Fairy lights? But in the dream they were fireflies.’
Something staggered behind Ondine’s ribs and her throat turned to ash. Everything about her dream was coming true.
‘Where is Shambles?’ Mrs Howser asked.
‘H-he’s around here somewhere. He’s fitting in really well,’ Ondine said, making bland conversation while she tried to work out whether Melody and Mrs Howser appearing meant everything else in the dream would happen. The moment she had some free time, she’d take down those horrible fairy lights. Surely, if they weren’t there, the rest of the dream couldn’t come true?
At that point, Ma and Old Aunt Col came in. Ondine took the initiative and made introductions, pulling up more chairs to accommodate them, all the while trying to find an excuse to leave. As soon as she could get out to the garden, she could sabotage her earlier work.
‘We’ve already met,’ Aunt Col said, giving Mrs Howser a stern look. ‘Been a while, Birgit. Still glomming round the camp, gazing at tea leaves?’
‘Hello, Col. Still spitting acid, I see?’
It was physically impossible for Ondine’s eyeballs to pop out of her head, but it felt like they were about to, such was her shock. ‘Um, Melody, why don’t we go out to the beer garden and help with the decorations?’
If these two old biddies wanted to trade insults down memory lane, she’d rather not be around to see it.
‘Oh, it’s just like the dream!’ Melody said with delight as she saw the lights strung up between the trees. In twilight, the effect wasn’t very good, but when the sun set in a hour or so, they would look just like fireflies.
A heavy sense of dread choked Ondine’s throat as she pulled up a chair and removed a strand of lights from the nearest tree branch. ‘No, it’s not! Melody, what did you do? I woke up and nearly puked, I was so sick with fear. Why did you put that bit in about Shambles dying?’
Now it was Melody’s turn to go pale, leaving nothing but contrasting brown freckles on her face. ‘But I didn’t. We were in a field of fireflies and I said we were coming to pay a visit. Shambles wasn’t even in it. He’s not sick, is he?’
Confusion time. ‘Are you sure?’ Ondine rolled up the cables.
‘Yes, absolutely positive, I promise,’ Melody said.
Ondine took a few deep breaths to steady her nerves. There was no point even trying to think with all this adrenalin racing around her body. It made her tremble and want to cry and yet she felt strangely hungry all at the same time. She needed a clear head so she could think about a rational answer, not turn into an emotional wreck.
So Melody had not dreamt of Shambles? At last, a positive sign! Things were looking up. If all of Melody’s side of the dream came true, no dramas there. Just as long as Shambles’s part didn’t come true.
‘It’s OK. I’ve got my wires crossed. Let’s get the rest of this set up. We should keep busy out here so we can stay well clear of the two witches inside, don’t you think?’
Melody giggled.
There were tablecloths and piles of plates and cutlery to set out for that night’s party, so they set to it.41 Ma had planned the evening to coincide with the full moon, so they’d have plenty of natural light to add to the mood. Work proved a welcome distraction, and before long they had the place looking very inviting.
‘Ondi, maybe . . . maybe I crashed the dream you were already having,’ Melody suggested as she placed knives and forks at each setting.
‘Yeah, that could work. I mean, hey, it was just a dream, right?’
‘Well, of course. Sometimes a dream is just a dream. It doesn’t have to mean anything,’ Melody said.
The object of their concern came bounding out into the beer garden in a streak of dark fur, his mouth full of food. ‘Ondi, ye’ve got to try Chef’s new meatballs, they’re to die for,’ Shambles said. Actually, what he really said was ‘O-fi, oof ot oo iy eff’s ew eetaaals, ere o ie or’ because he had a mouth full of food.
‘Weh hey!’ In a blaze of black fur, he leapt on to the top of the last un-set table and skidded along the surface, the tablecloth bunching up at his feet.
The girls laughed at Shambles, even though Ondine should have been cross with him. But she couldn’t be, not when he might be leaving soon with Aunt Col. She wouldn’t let them end things on an argument.
‘Aw, I messed up yer table,’ Shambles said, surveying the damage. ‘I’ll fix it up for ye.’ With that, he gripped the edge of the fabric in his teeth and walked backwards across the surface, dragging the cloth with him.
From the other end, Ondine held the edges in place, smoothing it out and making it ready.
‘Thanks, Shambles, you’re a great help,’ she said.
Suddenly, with a yelp of shock, the ferret dropped backwards off the edge of the table, dragging the tablecloth down with him.
‘Shambles!’ Ondine screamed, racing towards him.
He lay there, a lump underneath the fabric, moaning in pain.
‘Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry!’ Ondine cried. She didn’t need to look around to know Melody was standing behind her. Ondine pulled the tablecloth back to reveal Shambles’s head and give him some fresh air.
Shambles groaned even louder. ‘Oh, the pain!’
‘He can talk! Great heavens! Shambles can talk!’ Melody said, amazed.
‘You heard that?’ Ondine’s heart picked up speed at the revelation, yet there was little time to explain it all. If she thought Melody being able to understand Shambles was a shock, she had an even bigger one coming.
As he lay groaning and writhing on the ground, twisting and turning under the tablecloth, Shambles grew to twice his size and his face fur matted together, forming skin. The long whiskers retracted and his head began to bulge.
‘I’m dying!’ he cried out to Ondine. ‘Bring me whisky, I’m dying!’
The dream. That horrible dream!
‘Mercury’s wings!’ Ondine cried as great wet tears splashed down her face and on to Shambles’s writhing, deformed body. ‘You can’t die, Shambles! I won’t let you!’
‘I’ll get Mrs Howser,’ Melody said, and ran back inside.
‘Oh God, oh God,’ Shambles groaned, ‘I’m goin’ tae boak.’42
‘No, Shambles, you’ll be OK. Melody’s getting help,’ Ondine said, although what help anyone could be at this present moment escaped her. On the other hand, a witch had got him into this mess; maybe a witch could get him out of it? Confusion scrambled her brain. She couldn’t think what to do – she’d never seen anything like this before and didn’t even know how to start helping him. All she could do was stand back as Shambles kept growing and expanding under the tablecloth. Moaning and groaning about the state of his gelatinous body. All the while his face pulsed and wobbled. A horrible thought made Ondine feel ashamed for even thinking it. What if his face set like that?
‘There’s the light,’ he said, ‘it’s calling me, I have tae go tae the light.’
Fear making her tremble, Ondine l
ooked in the same direction. Her horrible dream was about to become reality. As she turned her head, she felt her stomach lurch as a white light shone on her face. A moment later, blessed relief coursed all through her body. ‘That’s not the light, Shambles. That’s just the full moon, you bampot.’
When she turned to check on Shambles, her breath hitched in her throat. He’d stopped thrashing about, stopped moaning and groaning. Now he was shivering.
And completely human.
The next surprise came straight after the first, as Shambles looked up at Ondine. Far from looking like a bucket of twisted shoes, his face could have belonged to a movie star. He was even more handsome than Lord Vincent. With a shock of black hair and a dangerous gleam in his green eyes.
And he was glorious.
Heat coursed through her body and her tongue turned to sandpaper as she tried to swallow. Something flip-flopped in her belly. Thank heavens for the tablecloth, because from the looks of things, he didn’t have a patch of clothing on.
Ondine’s pulse hammered freshly in her ears. I’m going to have a heart attack before I make sixteen.
‘I’m nawt dead,’ Shambles said at last.
Despite her concern for some modicum of decorum, a smile broadened her face and happiness bubbled in her veins. Heavens above, her dream had been wrong. Way wrong.
Those devilish green eyes stayed fixed on hers, while a lopsided grin added a mischievous gleam. Suddenly she averted her gaze and dropped her lashes so she could study the ground.
‘I’m nawt dead,’ Shambles said again, louder this time as he turned his hands back and forth in the moonlight. Then he wrapped the tablecloth around his middle, stood up and shook his head in amazement. He took a step closer and cupped Ondine’s cheek in his palm. Heat seared her face. ‘The dream didn’t come true.’
‘The . . . the . . .’ The dream? He knows about it?
‘You’re not dead by a long shot,’ Old Aunt Col said from the doorway, making Ondine and Shambles-Hamish turn quickly to see they had company. ‘But if you lay a finger on my grand-niece, you’ll wish you were.’
Indeed, they had an audience, including Ondine’s mother who, from the shocked look on her face, had seen quite a bit too.
Ondine Page 9
