Ondine Read Free Page B

wouldn’t be fair if we set him out on the street. He can sleep in the laundry. I’ll make him a bed in there.’
    â€˜Are you a good mouser?’ Ma asked, as she gave Shambles a serious looking over.
    â€˜Sure, why d’ye ask? Have ye a wee gun and holster for me?’
    â€˜You’ll keep,’ Ma said with one arched brow, then steered them towards the stairs. ‘Sorry, Ondi, we’re full up and I’ve had to rent out your room on account that I didn’t think you’d be back for another fortnight. You can share with Cybelle for now.’
    â€˜Oh, Ma, not again,’ Ondine said, unable to stop the whine in her voice. ‘Cybelle snores.’
    â€˜And I’m sure she’ll be delighted to see you too. Come down for breakfast and bring Hamish the Shambles with you when you’re done. We’ll have a family meeting to remember.’
    When Ma was out of earshot, Shambles whispered,‘Why does she wear those rings around her neck?’
    A dry grin crept over Ondine’s face. ‘It’s because she’s working with food all day – it’s not hygienic.’ The absolute truth? Her mother, having borne three children, had grown too big for her baubles.
    What Ma promised, she delivered. The entire family squeezed around the breakfast table, watching Shambles snaffle sausage after sausage. All the while he made lickety-sloppity-chompity noises as he ate.
    â€˜He’s so ugly! He looks like a strung-out rat,’ said Marguerite, the eldest at twenty-one and a quarter. Marguerite would know about ugly, being so far removed from it herself. She had inherited the best of her parents’ looks. Deep brown eyes framed with long lashes, tidy arched eyebrows, glossy brown hair that waved and curled in just the right way and always looked neat.
    â€˜But he has a . . .’ Ondine nearly said ‘lovely’, but even she couldn’t bring herself to say that. Instead she settled for, ‘cute . . . personality.’
    â€˜The health inspector won’t like it, not after wehad rats this winter,’ Ondine’s father, Josef, said. ‘So you’d better keep him under wraps until you can find a new home for him.’ Josef stood out amongst the sea of brunettes, having turned completely grey. His eyebrows, however, had not. They remained stubbornly black and threatened to join in the middle.
    â€˜But he’s her assignment,’ Ma said. ‘He’s Ondine’s new familiar – it’s all part of the programme. He has to stay otherwise she’ll fail the course.’
    Those comments – otherwise known as outright fibs – made Ondine’s jaw fall open in shock, before she shut it in a hurry. If Da knew Shambles was a real lad, close to Ondine’s age, he would throw him out. Ma had also side-stepped the issue of Ondine quitting Summercamp two weeks early.
    Da was annoyed. ‘I paid good money for that place, and they send them home as part of it? I want a refund.’
    â€˜I’ll look into it,’ Ma said in her most soothing tone.
    â€˜Go along with it. I’ll nawt protest,’ Shambles whispered between mouthfuls.
    The sight of wet food chunks falling out ofShambles’s gob on to the table provided Ondine with an idea. She shovelled the meal into her mouth, to prevent having to talk or answer questions with anything more than a nod or shake of the head, lest she spray her family. If Ma did all the talking, Ondine didn’t have to tell any lies . . . as such.
    The middle daughter, Cybelle, who was nineteen, added to the fray. ‘He can sit on the piano while I play in the evenings. He can guard the tips jar with those nippy little fangs of his.’ As a performer, Cybelle also kept herself very neat. She was lucky enough to have dead-straight hair, cut in a bob with a thick fringe.
    If Ondine hadn’t had a mouth full of food, she would have told Cybelle she liked