Ondine Read Free

same family, so maybe I am a low-down weasel after all. But between ye and me, I prefer ferret.’
    A silence hung in the air, and then Ondine giggled. ‘I think she did the right thing. Debutante balls take a lot of organising, and a lot of rehearsals. People take them very seriously. I think you should apologise to this poor girl as soon as possible. Then you might beyourself again.’ The thought of Shambles becoming himself again made her wonder. What would he look like if he were real again? Maybe he wasn’t much older than she was. As Shambles had said, the witch had used the right kind of spell to preserve his age, which set her mind to thinking all sorts of lovely possibilities. His voice alone made her grin.
    Opening the back door, the pungent odour of fried meats and old beer greeted them.
    â€˜Aww, that’s the good stuff.’ Shambles took a huge and very noisy sniff.
    â€˜Ondine! What are you doing home?’ her mother called out from the hallway.
    â€˜Hi, Ma, you look great. Have you lost weight? I love your hair.’ Her mother looked as plump as ever, but her new burgundy-brown hairdo skimmed her face and made her look thinner. Flattery ought to put her in a good mood. Just to be on the safe side, Ondine adopted what she hoped was a pleading look on her face. ‘I . . . I got homesick so I came back.’
    Ma stopped mid-stride, mouth open, when she saw the ferret on her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Heavens above!What is that?’ She pointed to the ferret with one hand, while the other patted the ample bosom above her heart, as if the beating organ might leap from her chest.
    It called for quick thinking on Ondine’s part, because her mother could be either furious or happy about the situation. There was often no advance warning of which way the mood might take her.
    â€˜He’s really tame. Please, Ma, let me keep him?’
    But Shambles was having none of it. ‘That’s the one!’ he cried out, finally finding his voice. He scurried down the back of Ondine’s vest. ‘That’s the witch!’
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    1   One of the 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, 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   Silly person. Daftie. Gets low grades at school and later in life rarely earns more than minimum wage.
    6   Venzelemma is home to one of the oldest elektrichka train fleets in Europe. Their sparse interiors and spine-jarringly uncomfortable wooden bench seats evoke equal amounts of old world nostalgia and sciatica. Most chiropractors in Brugel are located within hobbling distance of train stations.
    7   Pure denial. Shambles lost his social skills years ago.
    8   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.
    9   Neep. Short for turnip.
    10 Plütz is Brugel’s number one alcoholic export. It is made from fermented peaches, is 32 per cent proof and is the main ingredient in divorce proceedings.

Chapter Two

    â€˜I am not a witch,’ her mother said. ‘Ondine, is there a man just out the back door? With a Scottish accent?’
    A sick little feeling settled in Ondine’s stomach as she took in her