“Me too baby girl. And I missed Henrik’s cooking as well. Don’t suppose there’s anything to eat?”
His attempt at nonchalance had Ondine cry-smiling. “We never gave up on you Da. We did everything we could. We kept fighting.”
Da said, “I know you did. It’s why I’m out. Raluca filled me in on everything you did tonight. My brave baby girl, I love you so much.”
Ondine was happy to surrender to Da’s suffocating hug.
“Let’s leave them alone,” Raluca said to the other cadet in the car.
Ondine stopped the hug and turned to face the cadets. “Thank you for bringing Da home so quickly.”
“Let me know if I can ever be of help,” Raluca said. “If it wasn’t for you and the Brugelish Resistance, I’d still be under Birgit Howser’s spell. I did some horrible things under that spell, things I’m not proud of. If it wasn’t for you, I’d still be doing them. Or maybe I’d be doing even worse things. Thank you for setting me free.”
They nodded, a simple gesture acknowledging so much. Then Ondine held Da firmly by the arm and took him into the family pub. A cheer went up as they walked in, nearly blowing out the windows. Suddenly everyone converged around them, all talking at once. Crying, kissing, hugging, laughing, crying some more, sniffing, laughing and sighing in general exhaustion, happiness and amazement.
“Hey! Having a baby over here!” Margi yelled.
“You got back just in time,” Ma said, kissing Da all over his face. “Everyone’s home safe.”
Resting on a nearby sofa was Hamish, a bowl of soup and bread roll at the ready.
Da looked around the crowded room. “Where’s Old Col?”
Concrete poured into Ondine’s stomach. Memories flooded back and fresh tears flowed. “Auntie Col was so brave. She . . . took on Mrs Howser so we could get away and start the revolution.”
Da opened his mouth to say something. He and Ma looked at each other in shock.
Cybelle bustled past with the phone stuck to the side of her face. “She’s just here. Yes. Right. OK, she’s sitting on the floor. No I don’t think she can get up into a chair at the moment. Right, I’ll do that.” Then Cybelle shouted to the room, “We need towels and blankets.”
Margi grimaced through another contraction. Melody stayed close by, summoning more of her glittery gold to swirl around the scene. Ondine didn’t know what the magic Melody was using, but even if it was just some pretty sparkles, it was having a calming effect on Margi, so she may as well keep doing it.
“We need to time them?” Cybelle said to the phone. “OK, that one lasted for about ten seconds . . . oh, you mean the time between them? How long since the last one Margi?”
Margi growled like a demon and spoke several swears into one long string of agony.
“OK, Thomas, you need to time the cont –”
Margi cried out in pain.
“That was another one,” Cybelle said.
Ma turned to Ondine, her expression torn between wanting to know about her aunt and wanting to help her labouring daughter.
GrannyMa stepped in to the fold. “What’s my crazy sister gone and done now?”
“She was so brave,” Ondine said. She couldn’t say the words past the knot in her throat.
In the background, Margi’s moans turned into a full scale roar of pain. Melody swirled the magic sparkles so thickly it was a wonder anyone could see Margi underneath them.
Ma stepped away from her eldest daughter and came to Ondine’s side. “Tell us the quick version then.”
Like ripping off a bandage, Ondine blurted out, “She and Mrs Howser had a magical battle on the mountain. She sacrificed herself so the rest of us could get away.”
Ma pulled Ondine into a tight hug, then kissed her on the forehead. “We’ll mourn her properly when we have time. You’ve been so brave tonight, all of you.” Then she let go and raced back to Margi’s side. “I’m here my darling. Yes, you’re being very brave as well.”
Henrik and Alexei brought towels. Thomas was by Margi’s other side, letting her crush his hand with each contraction.
“Everything’s going to be fine,” Ma said. “The ambulance is coming lovvie. Oooh, I’m going to be a GrannyMa!” Then she looked around and barked orders. “Henrik, grab me a tablecloth for modesty please. Margi, pants off, get ready.” Then she grabbed the phone off Cybelle and spoke to the ambulance dispatcher. “This is Margi’s mother, tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Yes. Uh-huh. Dilated? How much? I’ll have a look. Let me have a look Margi. Oh for goodness sake, I changed your nappies, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Oh great heavens, she’s crowning already!”
Unable to look away, but not wanting to pry, Ondine crept towards Hamish on the couch to check in on him. He too had that expression of mild nausea mixed with excited anticipation. A new baby was coming into the world. But they really didn’t want to watch it because it was kind of disgusting. And noisy. Maybe if it was their baby it would be a different story.
For now, it was best to keep out of the way, rest up from an insanely crazy night and let her body come back from the extremes she’d put it under.
“We’re going to be SuperMa and SuperDa,” GrannyMa said, giving GrannyDa a gentle squeeze.
Da knelt beside his Margi, holding her free hand now that Ma was busy at the business end of things. Thomas kept making lovely reassuring noises, even though every bone in his hand must be crushed to powder by now.
Meanwhile, Ondine suddenly remembered something about washing hands and cleanliness, so she leapt up and grabbed a box of food handling gloves from the kitchen and started passing them around. When she came back out, Ma was under the tablecloth, Belle was reaching under it with one hand, holding the phone to Ma’s ear. “Right, the cord’s fine, it’s not around the neck.”
Margi cried out in agony. The wail of the ambulance matched the wailing of the purple (and pretty slimy) baby that rushed into the world with a ripe little cry.
“It’s a strong little girl,” Ma said, tears of happiness pouring down her cheeks.
“You did it!” Thomas cried in astonishment.
Da grabbed Thomas by the face kissed him.
“In through here,” Alexei led the paramedics into the dining room, where they set about taking measurements and readings of both mother and baby.
“My little girl,” Margi said as her baby daughter squawked like a bird. “Good set of lungs.”
“Awwwww,” everyone said.
“Have you thought of a name yet?” Ma asked?
Margi smiled up at Thomas, then back to their daughter and said, “She’s our little Colette.”
Da said, “That’s beautiful. Hello little New Col!”
New Col. Ondine wiped tears away. She hugged Hamish and cried out her happiness and relief right along with everyone else.
“She can’t be New Col. I’m to young to be an Old Col!” Ma said.
The paramedics safely lifted Margi and New Col into the trolley and loaded them into the back of the ambulance.
“We’ll see you at the hospital soon,” Thomas said, giving Margi and his new daughter a kiss.
“I think this calls for some plütz,” Da said.
“None for me, thanks,” Ondine said. She was feeling so weak now, one sniff of the stuff and she’d fall over.
“I meant me,” Da said, giving her a wink.
“Come on lass, we’ve had a big day,” Hamish said, drawing Ondine into a hug. “We’ve earned some time off.”
Epilogue
Life had a way of falling into a happy pattern of regularity in the weeks that followed. Not normality of course, because nothing in Brugel is ever really normal.
Cybelle and Marguerite still treated Ondine as if she were a baby who told fibs to make herself important, but older sisters can be like that at times. Ma and Da had re-opened the restaurant, the public bar and hotel rooms again and the pl
ace was as busy as it usually was in spring. Weekends were booked out, and with the curfew gone, people enjoyed their dinners late into the evening.
The sun shone that little bit warmer every day. Figuratively speaking, the cold north wind got the memo and calmed right down for a while, letting the gentle, early summer breezes come out and play.
The Duchess, Anathea had come back from her exile. The Duchess was broke, of course, so she urged the Dentate to give her more money so that the Venzelemma palace would be restored for posterity.
Ma made Ondine promise that she would never, ever, ever get involved in political intrigues again and Ondine readily promised. When a letter arrived offering Ondine and Hamish a commendation for their actions in restoring Brugel they ticked the “Please deliver my award in the post” box instead of the “I would be delighted to attend the ceremony” box.
The Dentate, led by Interim First Minister Natalia Cebotari, called for fresh elections. As the voting age in Brugel was eighteen, Ondine, being only seventeen, was too young to vote. The rest of her family, however, were excited by the prospect, and dinner times became fuelled with friendly political speculation and intrigue. The rest of the family were so engrossed in their politics, it gave Ondine and Hamish time to slip away unnoticed and have a lovely time together.
They were so busy being in love, they didn’t give a second thought to intrigues. Ondine would never, ever, ever get involved with them again.
Or help them.
Not in the slightest.
She’d much rather spend her beautiful summer evenings working in the family pub with Hamish, even if it meant spending hours each day elbow-deep in sudsy water, washing dish after dish.
Every morning for the next month, Melody, Alexei and Ondine would help restore Hamish to a little more of his earlier Hamishness. Being unable to replenish himself by sleeping as a ferret was everything Ondine had ever wanted. Of course, rapidly aging into an old man was not, so they relied on Melody’s extensive knowledge of magic and witchcraft to restore him back to full health.
Not that Melody stayed at The Duke and Ferret the whole time. She had a whole new career opening up before her, taking over the running of the late Birgit Howser’s Psychic Summercamp.
In a classic example of, “It’s not what you know but who you know,” Ondine and Hamish scored the catering contract for Psychic Summercamp. There may have been more qualified caterers in Venzelemma, but there were certainly none more loyal.
One sunny morning in June, as Ondine and Hamish they were unloading their latest delivery, a fresh group of witches arrived for registration.
“This food might only last two days,” Alexei said, wheeling a trolley around to help them out. “We have so many witches arriving now, all times of the day and night. Word sure is getting around. Might have to increase our order to three days a week at this rate.”
“Are you getting any more cadets?” Ondine asked. They were the ones who needed the most help, in her opinion. They’d been turned into fighting machines by Mrs Howser, they needed help finding their way back to being normal.
“Heaps of them,” Alexei said. “They keep turning up asking for help, and here they are. We don’t have the heart to turn them away. Like lost souls, really.”
“Of course Melody wouldn’t be able to turn them away,” Ondine said. “She has the biggest heart in the world.”
“Aye, Melody took you in, eh lad?” Hamish said, winking at Alexei.
Alexei playfully batted Hamish on the arm and pointed to more boxes of food that needed shifting.
Hefting a box of lettuce and cabbage, Ondine strode towards the communal kitchen. She was pretending not to listen, but she couldn’t help overhearing Hamish say to Alexei, “Yer a canny one for securing yer privacy out here instead of staying at the pub.”
Alexei furiously coughed in reply.
Melody came into the kitchen with a clipboard under her arm. When she and Ondine saw each other, they both dropped what was in their hands onto the nearest bench and seized each other for a hug.
Hamish laughed. “Ye havnae seen each other for three days, but ye act like it’s three months.”
“Hugs are important,” Ondine said as she broke away from the embrace and started sorting through their crates of goodies. “And anyway, it’s not like Melody holds your youth and longevity in her hands. Oh, wait, she does!”
“Come ‘ere,” Hamish said, grabbing Melody in a bear hug and making her squawk under the pressure of it. “How’s my favourite witch today?”
“I’m good, and you’re good. We’ve been working on a health treatment for you that you’re going to love.”
On they chatted, unloading groceries and checking them off, enjoying the splendour of the mundane activity.
“Can I come in?” A voice said at the door. Raluca Pflugg came in, eyes downcast, arms clasped firmly together as if she were sure to be expelled any moment.
“Ah, Raluca, we were just thinking about you,” Melody said, taking the girl under her arm and bringing her into the centre of the kitchen. “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes, we all are, and you’ve already done so much,” Raluca said.
Intrigued by the spy-speak, Ondine’s brow rose. “What are you up to?”
“We’ve got something for Hamish, if that’s all right. We think we’ve come up with a way to give his health a boost.”
“Aye, and what’s in it?” Hamish asked.
“If you’d come this way,” Raluca said, her expression nervous and timid.
Curious, Ondine followed, pulling Hamish by the hand behind her. Melody and Alexei came along too, a little slower than Ondine. She suspected they were being deliberately slow to sneak in some kisses. Couldn’t blame them really.
They followed Raluca outdoors, into a garden area filled with dappled light. Here, dozens of witches and former cadets were standing in a circle, holding hands, waiting for them.
“What’s this?” Hamish asked.
“It’s our way of helping,” Raluca said. “You all did so much for us, it’s the best way we could think of to return the favour. Please, won’t you link hands with us?”
Hamish took Raluca’s hand in his left, then Ondine’s in his right. She in turn joined hands with a boy witch to her other side. Melody and Alexei joined in a little further along.
Raluca started humming. The rest of them followed. A warm sensation filled Ondine as an overwhelming sense of happiness and good health vibrated all around them. It was similar to the time Melody had helped them transfer a little of their youth into Hamish just before they headed into Savo Plaza, but this was on a much bigger scale. The world shimmered and glowed as positive energy flowed through everyone like a living, breathing thing.
When they stopped, her darling Hamish looked healthier than she’d ever seen him.
“Weil,” he gave her a wink. “I’m all ticketyboo again.”
“You’ve got that right.” Ondine kissed him with all her heart. It was one of the best kisses they’d ever shared, and she never wanted it to end.
AND THAT, DEAR READERS, is where we must leave Ondine and Hamish.
In the coming years they will have more adventures and tribulations as they grow even more in love with each other.
Eventually they will grow terribly old and wrinkled.
Some of Hamish’s hair will fall out, but that won’t matter to Ondine, because she’ll consistently forget to wear her glasses and won’t notice.
I think everyone can agree they’ve generously shared their personal lives with the world over the past four books.
But now they deserve a little privacy.
Probably a lot of privacy.
Yes, lots.
–THE END–
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[1] One of the dozens of former Eastern Bloc countries, Brugel is mostly famous for three things. It has the only hexagonal flag in the world. Its main export is plütz, which is a tasty yet highly volatile vodka made from peaches. It has also never won the Eurovision Song Contest.
[2] From a strategic point of view, Brugel was so insignificant during World War Two that neither the Allies nor the Axis bothered to bomb it. This is why so many of its old buildings are still standing.
[3] This was during the enormous gimgaw craze, so everyone had them. You won’t find them now though.
[4] She’d found him face-deep in her secret stash of Brugelwürst sausage, a local delicacy.
[5] The flowers did their best to mask the smell of the ferret, but the ferret easily overpowered them.
[6] The interlude was previously on the first page of the paperback edition, but so many readers skipped it to get straight into the story (don’t blame them) that they missed the information and essence of what makes Brugel so Brugelish.
[7] Bampot is a silly person. A Daftie. Gets low grades at school and later in life rarely earns more than minimum wage.
[8] Venzelemma is home to one of the oldest elektrichka train fleets in Europe. Their sparse interiors and spine-jarring wooden bench seats evoke equal amounts of old world nostalgia and sciatica. Most physiotherapists in Brugel are located within hobbling distance of train stations.
[9] Pure denial. Shambles lost his social skills years ago.
[10] An animal form of supernatural spirit, who aids a witch in performing magic. Sometimes they’re helpful, but in most cases they’re useless. Have you ever seen a cat fetch the morning newspaper? Vacuum the floor? Make breakfast? Exactly.
[11] Neep. Short for turnip.
The Ondine Collection Page 82
