The Autumn Palace (18 page)

‘Nawt really. Col thinks he's caught something. There are a few going round. Chills and all that, what with the cold weather moving in. We're checking his food and the meat is fine. Col said the salad is a bit weird, but they must be moving on to winter veg, so it's turning bitter.'

Ondine couldn't help feeling some of that bitterness herself. Here she was, working harder each day doing four jobs at once – butler, laundress, student and spy – and she didn't seem to be doing very well at any of them.

When Ondine arrived at school the next morning,
she found Ms Kyryl and Pyotr the seneschal deep in conversation over some paperwork. For a moment Ondine's stomach lurched. What could they be talking about? Pyotr remained in the classroom as the students took their places and sang the national anthem. In key.

Beautifully!

Even Ms Kyryl, whose singing voice usually sounded like a rusty saw, reached the high notes.

How bizarre
, Ondine thought.

When they recited their pledge of allegiance to the Duke, they all tried to sound a little more enthusiastic about it.

Ms Kyryl said, ‘Thank you, class, now if you would line up, tallest to shortest, in front of the whiteboard.'

Nobody asked any questions, but Hetty sidled up to Ondine and whispered, ‘It's worming day. Everyone gets a dose.'

‘Whose idea is this?' Ondine asked.

‘The Duchess's.'

‘No need for chatting,' Ms Kyryl said. ‘The sooner we get this done, the sooner we get back to our studies.'

One by one they lined up and stood on the scales.
Pyotr wrote notes on his clipboard. Ondine couldn't help thinking her weight would make its way into the Duchess's ledger.

‘You're a little heavy, better take two doses to be on the safe side,' Ms Kyryl said as Pyotr jotted down Ondine's weight. Ondine had never considered herself ‘heavy' before, but, compared to the rest of the children, she did look a little taller and better filled out. More to the point, they all looked reed thin. Probably on account of their meagre diet.

The medicine tasted like chalky bananas. ‘Not bad,' Ondine said to Hetty as she resumed her place in the line up.

Hetty shook her head slowly, a look of defeat on her face. ‘Wait four hours, then you'll change your mind.'

‘Right children, grab your scripts for the Harvest Pageant, we'll do a read-through of the whole thing from start to finish. In the next few days I want you to know your cues and get your lines word perfect.'

‘I'm so excited,' Hetty bubbled as she reached for her script. ‘My parents are very pleased I'm the Harvest Moon this year.'

Dread sank a hole in Ondine's stomach. Everyone was happy about the pageant except her. Because everyone else had a decent role. She'd be the one up on stage, in front of everyone, dressed as a cabbage.

That afternoon, Ondine was hard at work in the laundry. There were piles and piles of washing to get through.

‘Not more vomiting?' Ondine groaned, not feeling too great at the sight of all the extra work.

‘No, this precautionary,' Draguta said, sounding thoroughly annoyed. ‘Every sheet, mattress protector, pillow slip, towel, hand towel, bathmat and dressing gown get washed today.'

‘And every single pair of underpants by the looks of it,' Ondine said, wincing at the teetering tower of smalls.

‘I hate worm day,' Draguta said. ‘As if not busy enough!'

Pain buckled in Ondine's stomach, ‘Excuse me. I need to go to the toilet.' She made it just in time. Damn that medicine, it ripped right through her! It
took a few moments to get her breath back and she felt a little light-headed.

‘You taken worse than most,' Draguta said.

‘Ms Kyryl gave me a bit extra to be on the safe side.'

Draguta slapped her hand over her stomach and laughed, ‘Did she? Have you been wriggling and fidgeting in seat?'

‘No, I haven't!'

‘Feeling more hungry than usual? Lately I have appetite of ravenous beast!'

‘Of course I'm hungry, but that's because the meals here are so small!' Ondine had eaten very well in her family's hotel. Not three-course meals every night (there wasn't time), but a healthy range of fruit and vegetables and plenty of protein.

‘Now you see reason for worming day. I tell you secret.' Draguta stepped closer so that none of the other laundry workers overheard them.

‘Duchess in charge of catering budget. Think we eat too much. Must be riddled with worms. Every six months on dot, worm day comes and every single person in palechia must to take medicine.'

‘Has anyone ever actually had worms?'

‘The dogs . . .' Draguta trailed off as a visitor came into the laundry. A number of other people also turned to check out the new arrival.

Despite her roiling stomach, sunshine spread through Ondine's veins at the sight of the gorgeous man walking in. It was exactly the medicine she needed to cure her bout of malaise.

‘Hello, Hamish,' she said.

A few people looked at Ondine and then back at Hamish. They said nothing, but Ondine could tell they were all dying to know who this strapping young man was. He looked effortlessly handsome, with a lock of dark hair flopping across his forehead. His clothes looked new, judging by the sharp creases down the front of his navy trousers and the starched shirt.

‘Col thought ye might need an extra pair of hands tae help out, on account of it being worm day and all,' he said, smiling at Ondine.

Good Old Col. She thought how very lax her great aunt had been at the whole chaperone caper. She
made a mental note to thank her, next time they had a pow-wow.

‘All help appreciated,' Draguta said as Hamish walked towards them. ‘Here, fold sheets.'

‘Aye, ma'am,' Hamish said.

Pyotr the seneschal came in with his satchel full of medicine in one hand and a clipboard and pen in the other. ‘Good afternoon, everyone. If I could have your attention,' he said.

Ondine shot her hand up. ‘I've been dosed already. In school this morning.'

‘Ah, yes, Ondine. I have you marked down.' Then he looked up and saw Hamish. He frowned. ‘Hamish, you haven't been dosed yet. I'll just add you in here.' Pyotr wrote something on his paper. ‘Good, now if I can get everyone to line up, please, you can step on the scales one at a time.'

Ondine watched as everyone stopped what they were doing and obeyed the seneschal. When it was Hamish's turn to step on the scales, Pyotr wrote down his weight, then gave him a single spoonful of worming medicine. The face Hamish made caused a new roiling
in Ondine's tummy and she quickly excused herself. When she came back, Pyotr was finishing up. Even the used spoons went into a bag.

‘Fun time over, everyone back in work.' Draguta mopped her brow. ‘On worming day, all sheets must dry in sunshine. Gardeners put up lines. Here, take baskets out and hang up.'
⁷⁹

It took all Ondine and Hamish's efforts to heft one basket out of the door. They walked through the courtyard (which hardly got any sun, as it was on the north side of the palechia) and along the gravel paths towards the south lawn. In the skies above them, shafts of sunlight streaked through the tiny gaps between the clouds. Clouds that looked dark and a bit ominous. Ondine silently hoped the rain would hold off long enough for the sheets to dry.

Turning the corner, they saw a sea of white sheets flapping in the breeze. It had a sort of modern-art-installation aesthetic and Ondine found herself smiling. In between the flapping sheets, they could
see workers' heads and arms moving, hanging up yet more sheets.

Further down the lawn, Ondine saw other workers hammering in temporary poles and stringing lines between them. Ondine and Hamish carried the basket down to the new line and launched the sheets over them. It was hard work, yet Ondine felt strangely calm and ever so domestic. The scent of freshly mown grass mingled with the lemony fragrance of washing. They both reached for the same pillowcase and Hamish's hands wrapped around Ondine's.

‘Ye look so pretty with the sun in yer hair.' He curled a loose tendril around his finger and Ondine felt herself all overcome. When he brushed her cheek with his thumb, she couldn't stop the grin.

The snap and flap of sheets filled her ears. Hamish leant closer. Her eyelids fluttered shut as he pressed his lips to hers. Ondine dropped the wet towel and held his face in her hands. The gentle rasp of his cheeks on her palms made her pull back in shock.

‘What's wrong, lass?'

Relief flooded through her. ‘Sorry, I thought for a
moment there you were changing back.'

Hamish rubbed his cheek and smiled. ‘Aye. I'll havetae shave.'

Heat raced up Ondine's neck. Shaving? That made Hamish seem so much older in her eyes. She leant forward for another kiss and felt stubble against her chin. A giggle escaped – she'd get pash-rash for sure.

Another lovely kiss made Ondine's heart kick behind her ribs and her breath started to quaver into little puffs and pants. She could never get enough of those melting kisses. They lost all track of time, standing together between the fluttering white sheets, Hamish trailing kisses all the way down her neck and collarbone. It felt so wonderful and a little bit naughty into the bargain.

‘Aw nae!' Hamish pulled back and grabbed at his belly.

Ondine wailed, ‘Hamish, are you all right?'

Hamish turned so pale he almost looked blue. Dismay and despair filled Ondine as she watched him collapse on the ground. Moans and groans followed. His clothes fell in a heap. After a few choice curses,
Shambles the ferret poked his head out.

‘Oh, why now of all times?' Frustration took hold. Ondine screamed and kicked the washing basket as the ferret she loved ran off.

 

78
   In Brugel, an employee accrues eight weeks long-service leave at full pay (or sixteen weeks at half pay) after six years' continuous employment with the one employer or company. This seems overly generous on the face of it, but in reality two out of three businesses in Brugel declare bankruptcy within the first year
.

79
   Naturally, Draguta didn't mean hang up the baskets, she meant hang up the contents of the baskets
.

A
part from the sheer aggravation of having the man you love transform into a ferret at the very moment you least want it to happen, Ondine had no idea why it had happened. She no longer had Hamish's help to hang out the washing either. They'd done very little of it because they'd been so distracted. And she'd kicked the washing basket so hard the clean washing had flomped out on to the grass.

She picked up a white bed sheet and threw it as best she could over the line. Brushing off the blades of grass only made it worse: the beautiful, white, one-thousand-thread-count cotton now had natty green smudges.
⁸⁰
The sheets would have to be washed
again. Draguta would be furious.

Walking back to the laundry, her foot hurt, her arms hurt from carrying the basket by herself, and her heart hurt because their kissing had ended way too soon.

‘I'm sorry, Draguta. These sheets fell on the grass, I'll redo them. I'll stay back late if I have to.'

Draguta put her fists on her hips. ‘Yes, you will. Where is helper Hamish?'

‘Um . . . he had to go.' Her vision started to blur, which meant tears wouldn't be far behind. She couldn't very well expose his secret by saying he'd turned into a ferret and scarpered off.

Pyotr chose that moment to make another appearance. ‘Ondine, there you are. Your great aunt is asking for you. She's had a bad reaction to the medicine.'

‘She should call for a doctor, not me,' Ondine said.
It was an uncharitable thing to say, but she wasn't in a charitable mood.

‘Go. You are needed,' Draguta said.

‘But there's so much work to do here.' Ondine wiped her sleeve over her face and sniffed.

Draguta shrugged in resignation. ‘There is. Sooner you see your great aunt, sooner you come back and help.'

‘As if I have worms!' From her bed, Old Col looked furious. Shambles had made his own way back and was sitting on the bedside table.

Two pink lips pressed into a thin line dominated her pale, wrinkled face. ‘That woman has a nerve, lumping me in with the rest of the staff. I'm here as the Duke's guest! This is not how a hostess should treat her guests. I've a good mind to turn her into a –'

‘Col! No!' Ondine jumped in before her great aunt cursed Duchess Kerala into something awful and irreversible. The image of No-Teeth-Biscuit's raw, red gums popped into her head.

‘Relax, Ondine, I can't do her any harm here.
The Duke and Duchess are in the south wing. As much power as I have, I can't curse people by remote control.'

Ondine said, ‘Please tell me Vincent had a dose of medicine, too? It would make me feel so much better.'