43 A nifty and terribly dangerous curved sword from the mystical east.
44 Over the centuries Brugel has had several national anthems. During Soviet occupation they sang (through gritted teeth) Sing to the Motherland, Home of the Free. These days people sing Oh, Brugel, My Heart with gusto and pride. Except at the Olympics, because they have yet to win a gold medal in any event. They do have a chance if lift jumping ever becomes a recognised sport. Lift jumping involves cramming people into a lift. Everyone jumps just as the lift moves up or down. Last person standing wins.
45 A great many national anthems contain confusingly ‘poetic’ phrases that make little sense to the modern citizen. As Brugel is almost land-locked, it has been spared the ridiculous lyric ‘girt by sea’.
46 The way Brugel celebrates Halloween is different to the rest of the world. There is no ‘trick or treat, give me lollies’ palaver, and there are no pumpkins – because Brugel’s Halloween pre-dates the arrival of pumpkins from the Americas by several hundred years. Bruglers hang wreaths of wheat in their windows and place apples on the sills for good luck. They eat copious amounts of turnips and cabbage, (fried, in soups, roasted, etc.) then venture outside in the full moon and gather around the village square for Bonfire Night. Bruglers write down their bad habits or regrets on notes, and cast them into the fire, as a way of saying goodbye to the past and cleansing their futures.
It’s considered tremendous bad luck to remain inside on Bonfire Night. Because of the mountain of turnip and cabbage consumed, and the lower-body explosions that ensue, staying outside is not just tradition, it’s vital for good health.
47 The word ‘cabbage’ is Brugelish slang for ‘fart’.
48 Ondine is not wrong per se, but the general area Brugel occupies on the map of Europe has been around in some form for centuries. The specific date to which Ondine refers is the signing of the Treaty of Venzelemma, the site of Brugel’s capital city.
49 Just about every culture has a backstory involving a flood. Floods are handy devices. You can pretty much make up any story of life ‘before the flood’ because there’s very little evidence around to prove you wrong. Geologists, palaeontologists and archaeologists would disagree, but that’s their job.
50 You could argue that a sample size of two women versus two hundred men is hardly a comparison at all, and leaves a very wide margin for error. The current Duke of Brugel would argue that this interpretation of history is completely sound, and that having a Duchess at the helm is proven bad luck for Brugel.
Chapter Ten
That afternoon Ondine’s ears rang with censure as she put another coin in the payphone to keep the call going.
‘You will come back on the first train, young lady.’ Her mother’s voice ripped into her.
The coin-warning light on the old phone flickered again. It wanted more money or it would cut out. How unfair that she had to pay to listen to Ma scream at her.
‘Everything is fine, really. And I have an important job to do, and Col is taking very good care of us.’
‘I don’t care. You get back here this instant!’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t.’ Who would want to go home with such a screaming reception waiting for her? Besides, she needed to be with Hamish. ‘Sorry, Ma, the light’s flashing again and I’ve run out of money. Can you send me some?’
‘I’m not going to fund your escapades!’
‘Well, then, I’ll have to keep working so I can save up enough to get the train ticket back. Sorry, Ma, but the phone –’
The line went dead. Light-headed with relief, Ondine replaced the receiver and headed to the laundry. She worked hard with Draguta, washing and hanging clothes and sheets on the lines. The fishy smell had almost gone from the courtyard, which was a definite plus. The sun gave some warmth but the wind had a cool bite to it. When it was time for her tea break at three o’clock, she dashed off towards the crepe myrtle trees, her skirts whipping at her legs. The papery flowers were in their last flush of bloom. Their pink, white and red petals looked so beautiful against the green leaves and marble grey of the trunks. Dried petals sprinkled the ground like confetti. The trees were so old and well looked after, they formed a flowery tunnel to walk under. More importantly, they offered a secluded place to meet.
As she walked under the trees, Ondine’s heart caught in her throat. Standing there like a groom at the altar was Hamish.
Not the ferret, but proper Hamish, wearing freshly pressed black trousers and a white shirt. Sunlight filled her as she raced to him and threw her arms around his neck. ‘I’m so glad to see you,’ she whispered into his ear.
‘And it’s always so lovely tae see ye, lass,’ he said as she pulled away to get a good look at his gorgeous face. He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. ‘Although I see yer face every time I close me eyes.’
Ondine felt herself beaming all over at the compliment. For a moment she didn’t know what to say. All she wanted to do was gaze adoringly into his sparkling green eyes for a while. So she did. Then she touched the delicate skin on his neck where last night she’d seen only matted fur and dried blood. To her surprise, his skin looked unharmed. ‘It doesn’t have a scratch!’
‘Aye.’
‘Did it heal when you changed?’
‘It must hae.’ Hamish gave a shrug. ‘There’s got tae be an upside tae all of this.’
Ondine kissed the spot anyway. ‘Now you’re all better.’
She felt his muscles tighten under her lips and he gave a soft groan. ‘Don’t be so sure. If ye do that again, I’ll fall apart at the seams.’
She giggled and kissed him again in the same spot.
‘All right, you two, that’s enough.’ Aunt Col suddenly made her presence known, her words mentally dousing Ondine with cold water. In the cool autumn air, Aunt Col looked pale, her hair a little more salt than pepper, and was that a wattle forming at her neck? A pang of sadness gripped Ondine. Every time her great aunt looked at Hamish he probably reminded her of her lost youth. Would the same happen to Ondine? Would Hamish stay young as she grew old?
Col cleared her throat. ‘We need to compare notes about last night. Vincent is not happy we’re here, so let’s do our best not to antagonise him.’
Ondine rubbed her shin at the memory.
Hamish’s hand slipped into hers behind her back. The contact made it hard for her to think straight.
‘So, let’s report,’ Aunt Col said.
‘Um.’ Ondine had a think. ‘Apart from the soup incident with the Infanta, nothing else so far. Everyone here seems to have a lot of work to do. I think they’re too busy to plot the Duke’s downfall.’
‘Yes.’ Col chewed at her bottom lip and her forehead seemed to develop more wrinkles. ‘All the same, disgruntled staff can bear a grudge.’ Col yawned. ‘Oh, bless me. I need more coffee. Now, what was I saying?’
Behind Ondine’s back, Hamish entwined his fingers in hers and she felt her brain go fuzzy.
‘It’s early days yet, but keep your eyes and ears open,’ Col said. ‘I’d hazard a guess there’s no love lost between Duchess Kerala and Anathea. You were under the table at the time, Hamish, but I saw them look daggers at each other at dinner.’
‘Aye, I was busy liberating silverware from someone’s handbag. Who was sitting down towards the kitchen door by the way?’
‘That would be one of Anathea’s daughters.’ Old Col rubbed her temple in frustration. ‘Which is another black mark for the Infanta.’
‘I will be extra vigilant in the laundry and keep a lookout for stolen things too,’ Ondine said. Meanwhile Hamish kept playing with her hand and she came over all silly.
Old Col huffed in frustration. ‘Stop it, you two. We’re not getting very far just yet, but I think it’s important to compare notes as often as we can. Ondine, you should get back to work before you are missed. Hamish, we need to check the Duke’s mail.’
‘Yes, Col.’ Ondine made to move away, but Hamish gently tugged her hand
and brought her back to him. Despite her great aunt watching. Ondine kissed Hamish firmly on the lips. The contact sent jolts of electricity through her.
‘Love ye. See ye soon, lass.’ Hamish winked at her.
Ondine’s tummy turned to jelly and she giggled. Then reality crashed through. ‘Wait. You’re opening his mail?’
‘Yes, and the afternoon post has just arrived,’ a commanding voice said.
The three of them looked up to see Duke Pavla himself approaching, arm in arm with Duchess Kerala. They were taking an afternoon stroll in the gardens together. As they stopped, Kerala tilted her head to rest it on Pavla’s shoulder.
Just in time Ondine remembered to make a quick curtsey.
‘My Lord Duke, Lady Duchess,’ Col said.
Remembering she wasn’t supposed to speak unless spoken to, Ondine kept quiet and let Old Col do the talking. All the same fear poured down her spine. She hadn’t had a chance to think about this the day before, but surely professionals in a secure facility should screen the mail, not her great aunt and the man she adored. But she also knew the Duke wanted everything to appear completely normal so that whoever was out to get him would not realise anyone was on to him. Or her.
It was completely bonkers.
The Duke looked at the three of them and said, ‘What news, Miss Romano?’
‘We are continuing with investigations, Your Grace,’ Col said.
The Duchess asked, ‘Have you found anything?’
‘Not yet,’ Col said.
‘Shambles, you look well enough,’ Pavla said.
Ondine wished the Duke would call him Hamish when he was in proper Hamish form. It seemed demeaning.
‘Aw yeas, much better thanks, Yer Graces.’
‘Good. I was worried for a moment there. You’re not . . . stuck as a human, are you?’
‘Aw naw, I can change back whenever I need tae.’
‘Then please do so. I do not want people to see you like this. The fewer people know about your presence, the better. When you’re finished with surveillance in the kitchens, I want you to focus on the gardeners and farmers. Make sure the produce is safe. If there is something untoward happening in the food chain, I need to know.’
‘Right, Yer Grace.’
‘Good day.’
The Duke took his Duchess for the rest of their walk.
Col exhaled with relief the moment they left. ‘Holiday’s over, we have serious work to do.’
‘Aye,’ Hamish said.
Fear constricted Ondine’s chest. Her breaths came in staggered jumps. ‘Please, be careful.’
Hamish tucked a stray lock of hair behind Ondine’s ear and gave her the softest kiss on the tip of her nose. ‘I wasnae going tae, but now ye’ve said it, I’ll take extra care.’
‘You’re making fun of me.’
He kissed her again, this time on the lips and her heart staggered behind her ribs. ‘Dinnae fuss yerself, although it warms me wee heart tae know yer thinking of me.’
As he let go of her hand, Ondine shivered. Hamish could be seriously hurt. If anything happened to him, she’d never forgive herself.
Chapter Eleven
As the days went by things settled into something of a pattern for Ondine. Lessons in the morning, half an hour for lunch, then laundry in the afternoon with Draguta. A good amount of Ondine’s work consisted of going through every pocket for snot rags, snuff boxes and stolen silverware, before putting the clothes in the cavernous washing machines.
I wonder what Hamish is up to, Ondine thought as she pulled out a small key from a jacket’s inside pocket one afternoon. No sooner had this thought formed in her head than the man himself appeared. Except her heart sank, because he was only the ferret of the man.
‘Come here, little fella, the laundry’s no place for you.’ What she really wanted to say was, ‘Oh, Shambles, I’m so glad to see you. Every time I see the post van arrive I can’t stop the panic rising in me.’
In a blur of dark fur, Shambles raced up Ondine’s side and stood on her shoulder. He gave her a whiskery wet kiss on the cheek. ‘Aye, lass, I missed ye and I wanted to see how ye were gettin’ on,’ he said in a low voice. ‘The Duke’s goat me checking up on laundry now.’
Draguta dropped her bundle and stared at them.
Gulp, gulped Ondine. Had the laundress heard him?
Shambles shifted his weight from left to right. A difficult thing to do considering he had two of each foot, and Ondine’s shoulders were hardly large.51
Draguta found her voice: ‘No dirty animals here! Out! Now!’
Relief engulfed Ondine – Draguta had said ‘animals’ not ‘talking animals’. She hadn’t heard him speak. Their secret was safe. ‘He’s my aunt’s pet. He’s perfectly harmless. And clean.’
‘No break rules. Duchess strict on that. You get me in trouble when bring animals in here.’ Draguta shook her head and picked up the most enormous load of wet washing. The bottom of the basket bowed under the weight, but Draguta didn’t even grunt. Instead, she looked at Shambles with a steady eye and kept her voice stern. ‘Don’t shed fur on the clean linen.’
‘She’s good value, that one,’ Shambles murmured as Ondine got back to work.
More workers brought clean washing in from the line and then set to the industrial machines, ironing the creases out.
‘Ondine, take to Duchess’s suite,’ Draguta said.
Ondine gathered the neat stacks of freshly laundered sheets and towels. They were so heavy she had to use both hands. There was no room for Shambles, so he had to run along beside her.
With a grunt of frustration Ondine said, ‘If you were Hamish again, you could help carry some of this.’
‘Good idea, lass. Let’s go past Col’s room and I’ll get some clothes.’
Thank goodness, she’d see her lovely Hamish again. And her arms wouldn’t feel like they were about to drop off.
When he emerged from Col’s room as his handsome self, her heart flipped over. He took half the load but the linen formed a big white barrier preventing them from sharing a proper kiss. Instead he leant over and kissed her cheek. It would do. For now.
They walked towards the palechia’s south wing.
‘I’ve been so busy, lass,’ Hamish said with a grin on his face. ‘I found out the farmers hae cheated on cleaning the vegetables. All sorts of manure and muck on them by the time they reach the kitchens. The Duke was right pleased with me help.’
‘Nice one,’ she said. At least cleaning vegetables was hardly a dangerous pursuit.
‘Aye, and I checked tae make sure the only fertiliser they were using was the stuff from a cow’s belly.’
‘Fertiliser? How can that be dangerous?’
‘Aw, lass, yer so innocent.’ He gave her a smile and a wink.52
Boggled for a moment, Ondine felt he was patronising her. She felt sure he didn’t mean to. ‘What about the mail?’
‘Aw yeas, that’s settled right down, but still very important.’
The pride on his face told Ondine how much he loved his job. Which was good, but it also niggled at her in ways she didn’t want to examine too closely.
‘And now you’re spying on the laundry?’ Did it mean she’d get to see more of him? Perhaps yes. But perhaps it meant she’d only see him as a ferret.
‘Goat it in one,’ Hamish said.
When they arrived at the Duchess’s chambers, the opulence took Ondine’s breath away.
Incredible, magnificent, ornate, overblown and fabulously expensive were the first thoughts that came to mind.
Breakable was the next.
They took extra care negotiating the sitting room – specifically the narrow path between all the polished tables and desks with their curvy legs. Not being an expert on timber, Ondine didn’t know they were made from Brugeloak,53 but her nose tingled at the overpowering scent of furniture polish. The furniture itself wasn’t the problem, just everything on it. Every display table and bureau had tall vases filled with
fresh flowers, while the desks were overflowing with photo frames and antique inkpots and silver boxes of all shapes and sizes. There were so many things Ondine didn’t even know what to call them. All she could do was hold on to her tower of linen and make sure she didn’t knock anything over.
A series of gilded photographs of Kerala and Pavla on their wedding day adorned the wall. The Duchess had the same dark, shiny helmet of hair she wore now, and a serene, confident expression on her face. The Duke’s hair was darker and his face younger and more hopeful. In most of the photographs, their posture looked regal and stiff, but in one the photographer had captured them in an unguarded moment. Their bodies were angled together and they gazed adoringly at each other.
‘It’s well posh, eh, lass?’ Hamish said.
‘Mercury’s wings, I’ve never seen anything like it.’ Every wall had niches for yet more antiques. Along the length of one wall were more books than a person could read in a lifetime. Along another wall stood wine racks filled with more bottles than a person could drink in a lifetime. Scattered around the room were a dozen fancy chairs that looked far too old and expensive to ever sit on.54
Every window overlooking the south lawn had the thickest curtains, held back with rich twists of gold-coloured cord.
‘But no tassels?’ Hamish winked at Ondine. ‘I do love tassels, they really complete the look and add that wee touch of grandeur.’
‘What?’ Ondine stared at Hamish for three pico-seconds before he cracked up and she started laughing too. It was so nice simply to be with him, she almost didn’t mind the drudgery of work.
‘Come awn. Let’s stop gawking and get the beds made.’
The bedroom raised the opulence bar another notch. Of course the Duchess would sleep in a four-poster bed with heavy curtains. Of course she would have more tables stacked with framed photographs and antiques and more of those elegant vases that would break the moment you touched them. Fresh flowers stood tall in each vase, filling the air with a heady aroma that reminded Ondine of cloves and apples.
The Autumn Palace Page 7
