Hamish walked towards them with a spring in his step, his hands full of money, his voice a sing-song. “Mrs G, here’s the receipt and money from table ten for you, and the tips for me.”
Ma had to uncross her arms to take the money, but as soon as she took the notes she re-folded them. Holding her mother’s eye contact proved too much like confrontation, so Ondine turned to check on Hamish.
On his face she saw the smile of a man with no troubles.
“Righto, let’s count them, shall we?” He lifted a jar with each hand. “Och, it’s so nice to have thumbs again!”
Time moved slowly as Ondine found herself unable to move her feet. Ma had her in some kind of suspension glare that kept her fixed to the spot. The complete opposite of what she should do, which was to get out of there and join the rest of the engagement party in the rear garden.[49]
Hamish seemed oblivious to all of it as he hefted the jars to the table. “Let’s see who’s the winner.”
Ondine felt sure she saw a gleam in his eye. Sure enough, the gleam became a full-blown twinkly glisten as he emptied both jars at once on to the table. The entire contents mushed and tinkled together in one messy coin pile.
Ondine’s mouth fell open. He’d done it deliberately! Didn’t he want to win?
“Oh dear, I guess I should have given that more thought.” He gave a nonchalant shrug.
A giggle escaped Ondine’s open mouth. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t make it stop.
Ma uncrossed her arms, but only so she could put her hands on her hips. “You two. You’re incorrigible!”
Ondine snorted.
Ma conceded defeat. “Fine, call it a draw. Enjoy your morning off tomorrow.”
Hamish grinned and sent Ondine a look that made things dart around inside her in an altogether quite lovely way. Then his face fell. “Morning off? I thought the winner got the day off?”
“Yes, but it’s a draw, so a day off for one person becomes a morning off for two. Now, Margi’s lot are still out the back, go join them.”
Typical Ma, Ondine thought, always one step ahead.
AS THEY WALKED OUT to the back garden, Ondine stayed a few paces behind Hamish.[50]
Soon she found herself under the full attention of her great-aunt.
“He must be mending his ways,” Old Col volunteered as she took a seat under a tree to settle in for the night. “Although from the way he looks at you, Ondi, I can’t vouch for how long it will last. Praise the heavens for a full moon, for there’s nowhere to hide when Luna is watching us.”
“How come he’s not a ferret any more?” Ondine asked the question she’d been dying to know the answer to ever since Shambles changed into Hamish.
Her great-aunt gave a theatrical sigh and shook her head. “He must have found the motivation to break the spell. Let me think. What did I curse him with . . . ”
As if you could forget something like that.
“ . . . Clearly, he wants to be human again. What do you think is happening?”
“I have no idea.”
“Surely you do. He’s bonding with you, I’m positive. Which leads me to wonder, what powers do you have that you can reverse one of my spells?” Great Aunt Col fixed Ondine with a beady eye.
Lurch went something inside her belly.
Margi spotted them and came over. “Ondine, what happened to the fairy lights?” She pointed to the bundles of globes bunched up in a tree.
“Oh, sorry about that, I’ll fix it,” Ondine said, grateful for something to do other than be subjected to Old Col’s inquisition. Bless Margi, she’d rescued Ondine just in time.
But when she made to climb up the stepladder, she wobbled and nearly fell off.
Help was at hand. Melody came to her aid and held the ladder steady. “Ondi, he’s gorgeous,” she whispered.
The bundle of fairy lights tangled in her hands. “Um, if you say so.”
“Are you blind? He’s absolutely divine,” Melody said, fanning her face with her hand, pretending she’d become flustered.
“Cut it out!” Ondine hissed, desperately trying to stem the shaking in her hands and failing.
“He really likes you, too. I can tell by the way he looks at you. Do you think your mother will let him stay with you?”
“Oh, Melody, let it drop!” Ondine became even more anxious, but from the mischievous look in Melody’s eyes, there was no way her friend would comply. As much as she loved thinking about Hamish, the thought of everyone else thinking about her and Hamish only added to her frustration. Her only chance of reprieve was to change the subject entirely. “So, Mrs Howser, yeah?”
It worked. Melody looked confused and crinkled her forehead. “What about her?”
“She and Old Col obviously go way back – they were less than pleased to see each other today.” Ondine felt giddily pleased with herself for so successfully moving the topic on to something much safer.
“Oh yeah, way back. They were good friends, but I found out from Mrs Howser that they had a huge falling-out at a debutante ball of all places. By the way, are you thinking of doing your deb? My mother wants me to, but they’re sooo last century. All those dance lessons just for one night of dressing up. I guess that’s what they did before television.”
Something sprigged Ondine’s memory. Had Hamish, when he was Shambles, told her something like this? Except, more fool her, she hadn’t been paying attention because her mind was full of Lord Vincent. “Mrs Howser told you all of that?” Now it was Ondine’s turn to press for answers and watch Melody squirm.
“Not in so many words. I, um, sort of found out during an, uh, astral exercise.”
That was seriously impressive. “Astral, eh? You’re really doing well in that. And Mrs Howser has no idea you know all this?”
The conversation should have ended in them giggling, but what Melody said next made Ondine wish she’d never gone down this path.
“I think it was over Hamish. They each wanted the same man to partner them at the deb, but Old Col won out. But . . . I guess Col lost in the end, because Hamish got drunk and it all ended badly. You wouldn’t think to look at them now, but those witches were both really pretty when they were our age.”
“Talk about carrying a grudge. Just for a stupid dance,” Ondine said.
“But if it was over Hamish, and he looked like that,” Melody fanned her face with her hand again, “I can understand it!”
Ondine rolled her eyes. “Promise me we won’t have a falling-out over something as silly as a dance?”
“Of course not. And we won’t have a falling-out over Hamish either, because he’s so taken with you nobody else could get a look-in.”
Ondine’s hands trembled with nerves and she dropped the bundle of lights on the ground.
Chapter Eleven
Despite the late hour, Marguerite and Thomas’s engagement party kept going strong. In between duties in the kitchen, Colette and Josef made regular appearances in the garden and were on their best behaviour around Thomas’s folks.
All night Ondine fought hard to keep her focus on the party when the whole time her thoughts strayed to Hamish in human form. If only he’d stayed back in the kitchen, it would have been bearable, but he had to keep walking around with trays of food, making nice with everyone. Like this for instance:
“Can I tempt you?” he asked a group of Margi’s friends, offering a tray of canapés.
The dirty flirt! The girls all smiled and giggled and took the morsels of food. As soon as his back was turned they huddled their heads together and tittered with suppressed laughter. The same thing happened to the next group he approached.
Frustrated, Ondine deliberately looked away from Hamish and saw Mrs Howser sitting at a table, with a mixed group of Thomas’s friends. What could they have in common? Then she saw it: Mrs Howser upended a teacup on to her saucer and turned it back.
Inching closer, she heard the old lady’s predictions. “ . . . a carriage. You are going on a journey.”
Pfft, isn’t everyone on a journey? Ondine restrained her scorn but couldn’t help rolling her eyes. Something she seriously had to stop doing, because it was starting to hurt the sockets.
“Read mine,” a girl enthused.
“You’ll need to drink the tea first. Infuse it with your aura.”
“But I don’t like tea.”
Stifling a snort, Ondine made to leave, but her mother, who just happened to be passing at that moment, had other ideas. “Ask Ondi for your future – she’ll read it in your palm.”
A trickle of fear entered Ondine’s soul. Expectant eyes turned to her. She felt trapped. She mouthed “no” to her mother in protest, but the woman ignored her.
Is this Gang Up On Ondine Day?
“But, Ma, I’m not –”
“You should have seen her the other day! She had the health inspector nailed, right down to how many children. We passed the inspection with flying colours, by the way.”
“Read mine then.” The same young woman who didn’t like tea sprinted towards Ondine with her palm out. “Tell me what I’m in for.”
“She has the gift, it’s in her blood,” Ma gushed.
Ondine didn’t know what matricide meant, but she was having thoughts of it all the same.[51]
The window of opportunity to protest closed with a thud in her ears. The eager teenager held her palm out for inspection. The face that greeted Ondine looked so happy, so expectant. It would really sour the party mood if she refused. Promising to growl at her mother later, she set to work making stuff up.
“I’ll need both hands. One palm is what you were born with, the other is what you make of it.” She sensed Mrs Howser’s eyes on her as she looked over the two palms. Scant weeks earlier, she’d fled Psychic Summercamp. Unfortunately it had followed her home. Time stretched. Nothing came into her head to help her out. Her own palms began to sweat. Her customer’s palms were just soft mounds of flesh with lines on them. Pale, with a few blotches of red near the juncture of her fingers.
Eczema?
“You really need to watch out for allergies,” Ondine blurted.
“Ohmigosh you’re right! I get terrible hay fever and eczema. What else?”
When Ondine looked up at the girl’s face, she saw her smile, and noticed the very pale gums around her teeth.
“Are you a vegetarian?”
“Not normally, but I’ve just started this new regime to see what sets me off. Wow. You’re good!”
No, she wasn’t good, if anything she’d just insulted her by insinuating she was low in iron. Hardly a sign from the heavens. The guesswork should have put her customer off, but all it did was make her eager for more “divine” instructions.
“You have a kind heart and like looking after people,” Ondine said. Nobody in their right mind would disagree with that.
The girl withdrew her hands. “I nearly forgot,” she said. “I need to cross your palm with silver, don’t I? Otherwise it’s bad luck.” She drew a few coins from her purse and gave them to Ondine.
Money.
So that’s why her mother was so keen to foster the psychic connection. They could make money from it! The realisation made her sick to her boots. It was one thing to engage in some harmless entertainment as a party trick, but when money was involved, it became outright fraud. “No, please, this is just for fun. Keep your money.”
“Hardly.” The girl protested. “Last thing I want is a gypsy curse hanging over me. I heard about what happened to your boyfriend.”
Whoa, boyfriend?
“If you don’t want the money, put it towards Margi’s wedding.” She told Ondine, “Now, tell me how I meet my husband, and how many children we’ll have.”
“I’m next,” Ondine heard to her left. “Then me,” another said. “Start a queue then,” she heard her mother say.
Lurch went her stomach.
Fizz went her brain.
She was done for.
ASIDE FROM HER PALM-reading swindle, the rest of the party was excellent. Less than half a dozen beer glasses broken, nobody came to blows, people laughed a lot, the police only came around twice to check on the noise and Margi and Thomas danced whenever the music played. The best part of the night – as far as Ondine was concerned – was Mrs Howser and Aunt Col retiring earlier than everyone else, both claiming “a headache”. They’d probably sneaked into the front bar to continue bickering. Or raid the plütz supply more like. On the minus side, Hamish had spent the rest of the night walking among everyone. Correction, flirting among everyone, tempting people with plates of food. Whenever Ondine saw him, she had to fight the growing hunger pains in her tummy against the prospect of having her family see her talking with Hamish and making a fuss. It was best to keep clear of him completely and go hungry.
Da made a speech that started maudlin and got worse, lamenting about losing his oldest daughter, his first baby who would always be his baby. Funny, that – he’d told Ondine she’d always be his baby, that day at the train station. Surely by now he had to accept his three “babies” were allowed to grow up?
“It’s difficult for me, with three daughters,” he continued, looking at everyone through beer goggles.[52] “When I was Thomas’s age, I could never understand why the girls I liked had such strict fathers. Now I do. It’s because every young man out there is just like I used to be!”
People howled with laughter and thumped Thomas on the back.
“But seriously,” Da continued, “Thomas, you’re a real surprise package. You’re one of the good ones, and I’m pleased as plütz to welcome you to the family.”
To Ondine’s complete surprise, the two men embraced in a manly hug. Her father was softening. Hooray for Margi!
Da’s speech was tame compared to those made by Thomas’s friends, which started in the gutter and ended up in the sewer. Margi blushed scarlet and Thomas yelled out, “Who invited you?”
“You did!” they yelled back.
“I don’t know these people!” Thomas buried his head in his hands.
Poor Margi, she winced and cringed so much during the ribald speeches Ondine felt sorry for her. Although just for a moment it was a relief to have someone else become the centre of embarrassment. When the speeches were over, it was time for more dancing, so Ondine and Melody joined in with a large group of Margi and Thomas’s friends. During one of the old-style progressive dances, Ondine twirled around the group and caught sight of Hamish standing in the doorway, watching her.
Of course, she had to trip right at that moment. Stupid shoes. When she looked up, Hamish was gone, thank goodness. She could get on with ignoring him properly.
“I see him looking at you,” Marguerite said as she sidled up to Ondine. “Reminds me of the way Thomas used to look at me. He’s working up the courage to ask you out.”
“I doubt it.” I hope so.
“Count on it.” Margi gave her a warm hug, then cast her eyes back to her fiancé. “Would you look at that. Da and Thomas are into the plütz like old friends.”
“Who would have thought it?” Ondine said. “Da’s really coming round to the idea of Thomas joining the family.”
“You can thank Ma for that, she brought him round. And Thomas too – he’s been the perfect gentleman.” Of course her sister would say that, being so madly in love with Thomas. Ondine tried to smile and be happy for her sister – truly she was – but sadness seeped in.
“Oh, Ondi, cheer up.” Margi noticed right away, of course. “It may not seem so now, but one day you will be as happy as me. I know it.”
WHEN THE LAST OF THE guests left around three in the morning, Ondine hobbled to a bench under the fairy lights and rubbed her aching feet. It felt good to soothe the knots and aches. As she massaged the sore skin, she felt as if someone were watching her.
“Yer family puts on a fine ceilidh.”[53]
Hamish approached with a plate of hors d’oeuvres.[54]
Ondine tucked her feet underneath her skirts to hide how ug
ly her toes looked from being squished and mashed all night. She made to speak but her mouth went dry.
“Ye havnae eaten all night. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say ye’ve been avoiding me, lass.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said, surprised that she managed three words when her throat felt so parched.
“Here, eat.” Hamish grabbed Ondine’s hand, making her hold the plate of food. At his touch, heat shot up her arm and she stared at the food, her appetite nowhere to be found.
“I like being human again,” Hamish said, tilting his head down so he could make eye contact with her lowered gaze.
A lock of dark hair fell over his forehead. An ache started in Ondine’s heart. Heavens above, he was so handsome a girl could completely lose her head. As if to deny her feelings, she picked up a slice of savoury tart and shoved it into her mouth. It didn’t matter that only moments ago she’d been touching her feet and her hands were probably covered in germs. All she wanted to do was stuff her mouth with food so that she didn’t say something stupid.
Ordinarily she loved Chef’s food. No wonder Cybelle had fallen for him – the man cooked like an angel! Yet right now, Ondine couldn’t taste anything because the presence of this Scot had invaded all her senses and turned the food to dust.
HAMISH VERY MUCH WANTED to kiss Ondine, there and then. She’d suddenly gone shy, and that wasn’t like her. But then, he’d also gone a bit shy, and that wasn’t like him at all.
“Ondi, do ye still like me?” She couldn’t still be thinking about Lord Vincent, could she?
Before the lass could answer, Chef and Cybelle walked out, each with one of those pull-along shopping trolleys grannies love so much.
“There you are. Time for market,” Cybelle said.
“Wh-ut?” Ondine’s voice didn’t come out the right way to Hamish’s ears. He was having trouble working out how to make words as well. They were under some kind of new, restricting spell that handicapped regular speech. Normally he had no problem on the chatty front. What was the point of being himself again if he talked gibberish with the girl he wanted to impress?
The Ondine Collection Page 10
