The Ondine Collection

by Ebony McKenna

  Recent law changes have resulted in demands being made to produce work papers. As I have none of this I am writing to you to ask for an exemption to this rule. You see, I have none identification at all and don’t want to be deported also. (It’s getting messy. And the grammar’s all over the place. Mercury’s wings I’m sounding like my mother.)

  Chewing the end of her pen, Ondine jotted down the main points of Hamish’s situation on a notepad; finding the right way to say , “you owe us a favour because we were there for you when it mattered”. Much like plotting an essay – except she had to be very, very careful in the wording of the letter. If she failed, it wouldn’t mean low marks, it would mean Hamish’s deportation.

  No way had they survived the trauma at the palechia to be split up again later.

  Not.

  Going.

  To.

  Happen.

  Happy with the re-writes, she found a stamp and an envelope, addressed it to the Duchess and had it ready for Hamish to read over, sign, and pop in the post. ​

  HER PARENTS HAD CLOSED the restaurant on Monday evening – for both first and second dinner. Cybelle and Henrik prepared a grand meal for the family to have in the dining room. Well, the extended family which now included Thomas’s parents and Thomas, along with Ma, Da, Margi, Cybelle, Henrik, Hamish and Ondine.

  It felt strangely quiet, being such a large room but having so many empty tables and chairs nearby. Ma piled more logs and coal into the open fire to keep them warm. By this time, Ondine was in full funk as it became patently obvious her parents had overlooked her name day. She was ready to blow her lid.

  “I propose a toast,” Da said. “To Margi and Thomas.”

  Steam could have poured out Ondine’s ears.

  “Margi and Thomas,” everyone said. Everyone except Margi and Thomas, because you don’t toast yourself.

  Not feeling hungry – high dudgeon will do that to you – Ondine cleared her throat to let rip. “Thank you for my lovely name day dinner, Henrik.” She pushed her chair back and dropped her napkin on her plate.

  Henrik looked horrified. “Oh! I’m sorry! I didn’t know. Belle, why didn’t you say something?”

  Cybelle came over all defensive. “I’ve been flat out like a banker in a hammock with bridesmaid duties. I haven’t had a chance to think! Ma, why didn’t you organise something?”

  “What are you all looking at me for?” Ma said. “I’ve been doing more than the lot of you combined! Anyway . . . Ondine, you’re still grounded . . . so it’s hardly punishment if we throw a party for you while we’re trying to teach you a lesson. And I’m terribly sorry that Mr and Mrs Berger should witness such poor behaviour.”

  Should Ondine do the dignified thing and pretend everything was fine? No way! “Hamish, thank you so much for remembering how important today is for me. The rest of you can all . . . you can all go to Slaegal!” Then she burst into tears and ran out.

  “Ondi wait!” Hamish gave chase.

  Tears poured down her face. It took four drags of her sleeve to dry her cheeks. Even then it only lasted a moment before more tears splashed down. Mercury’s wings, her nose started running too.

  Hamish caught up with her at the first floor landing. “Hen, stop.” He rubbed her shoulders, then guided her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her, holding on tight.

  “You’ve every right tae cry. They should have done more for yer name day.”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. “Come on Ondi, stop making a scene.” Ma said, “We can have your name day in a few weeks when all this is over.”

  “You’re just saying that because you’re feeling guilty that you didn’t do anything for me. You didn’t even make a cake!”

  Ma pulled up short. “Did you have a bad day at school and now you’re taking it out on us?”

  Petrol? Meet the lit match: “School has nothing to do with this! And you know what? I’ve got nothing to do with this! It’s all Margi, Margi, Margi. I’m not even a bridesmaid!”

  “Of course it’s all about Margi, she’s getting married! You can have a name day every year but you only have one marriage in your life.” [195]

  “They should have set a different date!”

  “Now you’re being stubborn. There’s only one more Wednesday after this one until Christmas. You know they have to get married before the New Year or it’s bad luck.” [196]

  Somewhere in her subconscious, Ondine knew about the end of year marriage rush. But still . . .

  “She could have set it for November.”

  “Without you? We didn’t know when you would be coming back from the palechia. Or even if you’d be back. Which is why you’re grounded in the first place! Having a wedding without all the family present? Your Da was beside himself with worry though he did his best not to show it. At one point I pressed Margi to go ahead without you but she wouldn’t hear of it. To see the way you’re carrying on now . . . well it’s breaking her heart.”

  Really? Off kilter emotions gave her a wobble. She wiped her face and took a step back from Hamish. “But, she barely even notices I’m back.”

  “She’s a bride, Ondi, her head’s spinning faster than a hamster wheel. Now look, I am sorry for how this has turned out. I will make it up to you, I promise.” Ma held her arms out for a hug of reconciliation.

  “All things considered, your ma’s had a lot tae take in,” Hamish said, giving Ondine a gentle nudge in her mother’s direction. Well, he would say that. He needed to stay in her parents’ good books because he relied on their grace and favour.

  Ondine threw herself into Ma’s hug. “I’m sorry.”

  “There, there.” Ma wrapped her warm arms around her. “I’m sorry too. I think we’re all a bit strung out with so much going on. Things will settle down soon I promise.”

  With a huge sniff, Ondine pulled away to see tears in Ma’s eyes.

  “Ye should be savin’ yer tears fer the weddin’,” Hamish said. “I’m bringing industrial-size hankies.” ​

  LATER THAT NIGHT, AS Ondine chased sleep, a soft tapping sounded at the door. Thinking it might be Hamish, she jumped up and opened it. “Oh.” How disappointing to see her father standing there.

  “Don’t look so pleased to see me,” he said.

  “Sorry Da.”

  “It’s all right.” Da glanced up and down the hallway to make sure nobody was looking. In his hands he held a cupcake on a bread plate. “Chef’s been making double dozens. He won’t notice one missing.”

  “Oh yum!”

  “Shhhh!”

  Ondine whispered, “Sorry!” then snaffled a bite. The cake was soft and perfectly moist. The frosting buttery-smooth, tasting of chocolate and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

  “He swished a little plütz in the mix,” Da said. Next, he pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Don’t tell your mother, because you’re still grounded and you’re not supposed to be having parties or presents.”

  She put the cupcake on the plate and reached for the package. What a thoughtful father she had. “Thank you. I knew you couldn’t have forgotten.”

  “This is just between us. The punishment was your mother’s idea and . . . I went along with it because we have to put up a united front.”

  Tears sprang free as she opened the box and found a silver necklace with an oval locket. The kind you can open up and put photographs in. No prizes for guessing whose photo she would put in there. “Thank you, Da,” she managed as her throat closed over with emotion.

  “Now get some sleep. You’re still grounded.”

  Looping the chain around her neck, Ondine leaned into Da for a hug. With his free hand (the other held the plate) he stroked her hair and said, “My little girl, you’re growing up too fast.”

  “You’ll be saying that when I’m twenty, won’t you?” she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

  “I still say it to Margi,” Da said, and then he winked and snuck out the room.

  The
pendant warmed against her skin as she snuggled down into bed. All things considered, she felt happier than anyone grounded for life had a right to. Well, not grounded for life, but probably until the Christmas and New Year rush was over. Her mother had never actually put an end date to it all. She’d simply said, “You’re grounded until a fish dances on the table,” and there was no knowing when that would be.

  The door squeaked open. Could it be Hamish this time?

  The footsteps sounded shorter and heavier than Hamish’s. When she looked up, she found her mother creeping in. Quick as a flash, she hid the cake plate under her pillow, just as her mother sat on the end of the bed. Thank goodness it was dark and she couldn’t see the crumbs on her face.

  “Ondi darling, can we talk?”

  “Yeah, Ma,” she said as she wiped her mouth.

  “I am sorry about today,” Ma began. “It was your father’s idea and I didn’t want to undermine him. I didn’t forget your name day, but we had to follow through.”

  Despite her mother’s serious tone, Ondine felt a giggle threaten to break free. She stuffed the bed sheet into her mouth to hold back the laughter. All she could do was nod and steady her breathing so she didn’t give herself away.

  “I brought you this,” Ma held out a cupcake on a plate.

  Tears spritzed from her eyes as she fought off laughter. “I’m so sorry,” Ondine managed to say through the sheets stuffed in her mouth.

  Ma misread the emotion and moved in for a hug. She stroked Ondine’s back in lazy circles, making soothing noises. All the while Ondine’s body shook in silent laughter, which her mother read as tears and only hugged her tighter.

  The only way to break free from this giggle trap was to think of horrible thoughts. Things that put her in a bad mood.

  Stop laughing. Think of something horrible. The way her parents had swiftly hugged her then proceeded to punish her within minutes of arriving home from the palace with Hamish.

  That had been miserable.

  Hamish stuck as a ferret. That always made her tummy swirl with worry.

  Hamish being taken away from her. Where had that thought come from? She didn’t know, but the more she thought of it, the clearer the image became. Faceless people in uniforms grabbing him and tearing him from her arms.

  It felt awful. It felt so terribly real, as if she were finally developing some kind of magical skill. It also did the trick, because she stopped laughing and felt utterly despondent.

  “Don’t tell Da, this is just between us.” Ma gave her the cupcake. “And you’re still grounded.”

  Ondine nodded, all traces of happiness gone as that hideous image of people tearing Hamish away from her replayed in her head.

  I’m not going to let that happen, she promised herself. Never, ever, ever.

  ​

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  Chapter Five

  The morning of the wedding dawned crisp and cold. Each breath Ondine exhaled created plumes of steam. She put on two dressing gowns and her thickest socks and stepped over to the window. Opening the drapes, the fog was so thick she couldn’t even see On The Fang across the street.

  “Don’t worry, it’s a good sign,” Cybelle said on her return from the bathroom. “Fog in the morning means it will be sunny later.”

  Cries of anguish carried up the staircase.

  “That will be Margi, getting it out of her system,” Cybelle said as she reached for the hair dryer.

  Judging from the noises, Marguerite sounded borderline hysterical. Curiosity – and a need for breakfast – took Ondine downstairs toward the source.

  “It doesn’t fit!” Marguerite wailed. “You took the seams in too far!”

  Definitely hysterical. Ondine had never seen this side of her eldest sister. The stress of the wedding must have got to her.

  “Calm down, love. Take it off, I’ll fix it right now,” Ma said with a calm tone. Considering the circumstances, the early hour and the importance of the day, Ma sounded heroically calm. Suspiciously calm.

  Ondine found Margi standing on a box, wearing a pale slip. On the floor next to her lay a mountain of rich blue satin and fake white fur. Ma was burrowed underneath all that fabric. Her muffled voice came through the layers. “Morning Ondi, make us some breakfast would you love? Bit busy with a needle and thread right now.”

  “This is a disaster!” Margi stifled a sob. “The dress doesn’t fit!”

  Considering how much food Margi had been putting away lately, Ondine wasn’t surprised. The filter kicked in and she decided now wasn’t the time to mention that fact. [197]

  “Now, now, mustn’t worry. It will be all right,” Ma said.

  Margi burst into fresh sobs. Ondine had heard brides could become stressed, but she’d never seen her sister like this.

  “There, all fixed, try this now,” Ma said as she crawled out from underneath the rustling fabric and slipped the dress over Margi’s head.

  Wow, that was quick.

  “Wow, that was quick,” Margi said out loud.

  “Yes, it was rather,” Ma said. “It’s amazing what you can get done when you set your mind to it. Let’s see, oh yes, you look stunning. Josef, come and look at your radiant daughter.

  Margi looked beyond amazing. She must be using some kind of magic because Ondine had never seen her sister look so gorgeous.

  “In a minute!” Josef called back from somewhere near the kitchen. “I need to set the hot rocks.”

  Ondine beamed with pride as she made her way to the kitchen and set about making breakfast. The hot rocks were Hamish’s idea. He’d told her about the tradition of placing smooth stones of granite in the oven to warm them. When wrapped in a sturdy blanket, they would keep the bridal party warm as they stood at the foot of the elm tree on a cold winter’s day. [198]

  “Nothing for me!” Margi yelled out. “I’m too nervous to eat and knowing my luck I’d spill something on my dress.”

  Ondine could hear Ma’s voice carry all the way to the kitchen. “We’ll wrap a towel around you. You must have something. How about a boiled egg?” Then she yelled out a bit louder, enabling her to carry on two conversations in two rooms. “Ondi, put a few boiled eggs on for us, love!”

  A ‘few’ became sixteen, because Ondine had a feeling it was going to be one of those days where everyone would need to keep their strength up. Shame she didn’t take her own advice – Hamish walked in wearing his wedding usher suit and she turned wibbly at the knees. He’d become freshly handsome all over again. The cheeky rascal had been holding something in reserve all this time! The suit fitted him perfectly, creating a tapered waist and broad shoulders and . . . somehow making him taller.

  “What do ye think, lass?”

  Did any words come out? Ondine didn’t have a clue; she just stood there next to the bubbling pot of eggs, grinning away. Steam billowed over her line of sight, making it seem as if Hamish were walking through mist.

  “I take it ye approve, lass?”

  “Very approve.” What a man, and he was all hers! “That reminds me, have you posted the letter to Duchess Anathea yet?”

  “Oh yeas, did it yesterday.”

  Good. Now she could begin the mental count-down for how long it would take for the Duchess to reply to their appeal for clemency regarding the paperwork for Hamish’s identity. She didn’t want to think about what would happen if Hamish were deported over such a trifling bit of bureaucracy. Ondine’s thoughts drifted all over the place, from thinking herself the luckiest girl in the world because Hamish was here, to wondering where the sound of harps had come from.

  Seriously, harps?

  “We need to relax,” Ma said, walking through the kitchen with a portable stereo. A symphony of strings strummed through the pub as Ma turned up the volume. “That should do it. Ondi, thanks for the eggs but you’d better get dressed. We need to stay on schedule.”

  “Oh!” The steaming pot beside her bubbled with enthus
iasm. She grabbed a spoon and pulled the eggs from the water. More steam poured through her vision. A moment later, everyone descended on the kitchen and grabbed one.

  Cybelle, wearing an enormous tea towel bib to protect her bridesmaid’s dress, ate her egg – shell and all!

  “Urgh!” Ondine said, “What are you doing?”

  “The shell’s the best part,” she said, giving Ondine one of those ‘you’re bonkers’ looks she did so well.

  “She knows it’s not an apple, right?” Ondine looked to Henrik, hoping he’d talk sense into Cybelle. The chef only shrugged and followed Cybelle’s example, biting into the egg without removing the shell.

  Hamish stood there and made a circling ‘cuckoo’ motion with his finger to his temple.

  Ma walked in, “Ondi, get dressed, the hairdresser will be here in ten minutes.”

  “Right.” Ondine picked up her egg, still warm to the touch. Curiosity got the better of her and she took a bite through the shell. Jupiter’s moons but it was revolting! All sharp angles and chalky. “Ptah!” She spat the shell into the closest sink and had to rinse her mouth three times to remove the grit from between her teeth. In the doorway stood Cybelle and Henrik, doubled over with laughter.

  They’d set her up! For a fraction of a second she felt stupid and angry, then Henrik made a grimace and scraped shell out from between his teeth.

  For his part, Hamish looked from Cybelle and Henrik to Ondine, in open-mouthed shock. Cybelle and Henrik high-fived each other and ran off, laughing at their successful prank. The laughter spread to Marguerite – “You made her eat the shell?” – who stopped crying hysterically for a moment to join in the fun.

  Sure, they’d cheered up the bride, but it was at Ondine’s expense, which only added one more item to the growing list of things that irritated Ondine about her family.

  AS THE MORNING ROLLED on, everyone calmed down and got on with their roles for the day. Ondine changed into her usher outfit; a long blue satin skirt – she could wear two pairs of leggings underneath and nobody would see – white ankle boots, white cashmere cardigan and white faux-fur bolero jacket with a thick collar she could turn up if the wind turned on them. Judging from the immovable fog out the window, it didn’t look like they’d get the slightest breeze.