The Autumn Palace (3 page)

Ondine wondered how Col had so much money. First-class travel and flashing the cash to get help had never entered Ondine's mind. Not that her parents were poor, but with three children and a business to run, Ma and Da kept a firm hand on finances. Apparently her great aunt had no such problems. Old Col must have pillows of gold.
¹⁵

‘It's not far, we shall walk from here,' Old Col said in her best schoolmarmish tone.

With no bags to carry, Ondine slipped her hand into Hamish's. In return, Hamish gave her a smile that made her knees go squishy. They walked through the
quiet streets as shop owners packed up and closed their businesses for the day.

‘I cannae wait fer our adventures tae begin,' he said.

Ondine squeezed his hand. Apprehension niggled at her as she silently hoped she could stay with Hamish and not be sent home.

Old Col led them up a tree-lined road that climbed a hill.

‘Well, here we are.' Aunt Col stopped at the top, where the landscape opened out before them. Ahead stood the centuries-old gatehouse with its cobblestone path.

Ondine sighed as she took in the velvety green meadows, sprinkled with tiny white flowers. Towering trees dropped their yellow and orange leaves like confetti on the ground. In the middle of the loveliness sat an enormous mansion fit for a . . . well, a duke. Three storeys high and forty-five huge windows across, it dominated the estate.
¹⁶
It had a soft yellow facade
and manicured creepers wound around white columns.

‘It's beautiful,' Ondine said with a breathy sigh. On impulse, she leant towards Hamish and rested her head on his shoulder.

‘Aw, nawt this, Col, ye goiven!'
¹⁷
Hamish said.

‘What?' Ondine couldn't believe her ears. How could someone gaze upon such a pretty scene and not feel at peace with the world?

When Col turned back to look at them, her face was all innocence. ‘You don't like it?'

Hamish glared at Old Col and said, ‘Out of all the places in Brugel, ye had tae bring me here, din't ye?'

With a sinking feeling Ondine looked from Hamish to her great aunt and then back again. ‘What is this place?'

‘It's the Duke's autumn palace.' Col laughed and winked. The woman was having far too much fun at Hamish and Ondine's expense.

‘You've been here before,' Ondine said, ‘both of you.'

Old Col shrugged. ‘Why, you're right! We
have
been here, many years ago.' Then she turned and set off towards the gatehouse.

‘A great many,' Hamish said, shaking his head. ‘Only it wasnae called Bellreeve then. If I'd known, I wouldnae hae come.'
¹⁸

Figuratively, the twig snapped.
¹⁹
Ondine rolled her eyes. ‘This is where the debutante ball took place, isn't it?'

‘Aye. You're a smart lass.' He gave her a smile but it looked tight and strained and his nostrils were flared.

‘I didn't realise it was here. I guess I never thought about where it happened,' Ondine said. Taking slower steps to create distance between themselves and Old Col, who walked towards the imposing building,
giggling to herself. Ondine whispered to Hamish, ‘Do you think she knew all along?'

‘Aye, I do.'

Ondine didn't ask more, because she knew it would upset Hamish very much to speak of those horrible events. She wound her arm around his waist and gave him a hug. He returned it but without the intensity she needed. Despite the picture-postcard scene, her happy mood evaporated. Somewhere in this vast palace was a ballroom, where, decades ago, Great Aunt Col had lost her dental-floss-thin grip on her temper and cast Hamish into ferret form. And in that form he'd stayed for years and years, until he'd met Ondine. The only good to come from his being trapped as a member of the weasel family was that his human physical form had not changed since that day.
²⁰

They walked to the gatehouse and Ondine let Col do all the talking. The guard looked at the three of them and asked for identification. Oh dear,
Ondine had none, neither did Hamish.

‘They are with me,' Old Col said, ‘the Duke is expecting us.'

‘Wait one moment,' the guard said, picking up an intercom and pressing a button.

‘By the time you do that, we could be inside already. Come children,' Col said, breezing past him.

Eeek, that felt a bit naughty. Hamish took Ondine's hand and they followed Col. Click clack went her feet on the cobble stones, which had fleur-de-lis carved on them.

Wind suddenly howled through the trees. Ondine's dark hair whipped across her face and stung her eyes. A gust pushed her from behind and she lost her footing.

‘Steady, lass.' Hamish held her hand as the trees around them twisted and thrashed. His lips kept moving, but the wind stole the rest of his words. Old Col staggered, then turned and pointed.

Ondine looked behind them to see a tornado sucking up everything in its path – buildings, plants and earth. It was heading right for them! The guard
fled his post, just before the twister ripped up the gatehouse.

‘Run!' Hamish yelled, grabbing her and racing towards the safety of the palace.

The wind clawed at them. Ondine screamed as something exploded beside her and slate tiles flew through the sky. Bang! The twister sucked the doors off the stables and half a dozen terrified horses bolted out.

The next second Col had Ondine by the other hand. The three of them ran towards the palace portico.

Just as someone slammed the enormous doors in their face.

 

13
   In the process of receiving World Heritage Listing. Knocks Argentina's Ischigualasto for six
.

14
   Not to be confused with Lake Omski just outside Budapest, which has nude sunbathing (in summer only)
.

15
   An old saying in Brugel, which means you have lots of money. It does not refer to actual pillows of gold, as they are uncomfortable to sleep on. The phrase originates from rich people hiding banknotes and valuables under their mattresses for safekeeping. This behaviour is a result of Brugel's archaic banking system and the protracted recessions of 1972 to March 1987, and September 1987 to early 1996
.

16
   The palechia is one of the grandest estates in eastern Europe and is sometimes called the Versailles of Brugel. A little-known fact: the palechia inspired the redesign of Polesden Lacey in Surrey, England, which is built on a far smaller and, dare we say, more
affordable,
scale
.

17
   ‘Goiven' is a word that means nothing, but can stand in the place of a great many swear words
.

18
   Bellreeve has had several name changes over the generations. At various points it has been known as Trelteman, St Basil and Glückentenk
.

19
   In some countries people might say, ‘the penny dropped', which means somebody has finally figured something out. In Brugel, the popular expression is ‘the twig snapped', a reference to the sound and effort of someone having to think really hard to arrive at the answer. Next time you ask your parents a really difficult question, like ‘Why do I have to go to school?' or ‘Where do babies
really
come from?' listen carefully. Hear that clicking, snapping sound? It's their brains hard at work
.

20
   When Old Col was young, Hamish had embarrassed her terribly in front of high society at a debutante ball, so she had turned him into a ferret. Her spell included the words, ‘You can stay like that for all I care,' which explains why she is now old and wrinkly, but Hamish isn't
.

‘L
et us in!' Ondine banged her fists on the timber door.

‘Stand back,' Old Col commanded. She drew her hands up to the sky and then pushed them towards the door handle. For a heartbeat nothing happened, then the doors burst open to reveal half a dozen terrified staff huddling against the wall.

The wind howled behind them. Ondine turned to see if the twister was following them in. To her enormous relief it changed course at the last second and zig-zagged down the hill towards the lake.

‘Phew, that was close.'

The tornado kept vacuuming up everything in its path, becoming a waterspout as it crossed the lake. Then, just as fast as it had sprung up, it lost its power
and vanished into the dark clouds. All was still.

‘Was that your doing, Col?' Hamish asked, his voice burning with anger.

‘Most certainly not. But if you'll pardon the pun, it sure put the wind up me. I've never seen anything like it.'

The nervous staff broke their huddle. One of them stepped forward and held out his hand to Col. ‘Pyotr Nillinskovic at your service. I am the seneschal.'
²¹

‘Colette Romano. Here at the Duke's pleasure.'

Pyotr walked to the door and had a look outside at the damage. ‘The school roof's gone and the stables are a mess.' He quickly issued orders to the rest of the staff. ‘Find the horses – and find new homes for them, then relocate the school to somewhere with a roof.'

Without missing a beat, or even checking if they had recovered from the shock, Old Col said, ‘This is Hamish McPhee, he is also here at the Duke's invitation. And this is Ondine, my grand niece.'

The ground slipped a little beneath Ondine's feet. Not literally, for that would be an earth tremor and Brugel is not in a quake zone. The ground slipped figuratively, making her feel a bit wobbly on the inside. She shook Pyotr's hand and with a shaky voice said, ‘Pleased to meet you.'

‘And I you,' Pyotr said with a welcoming smile that made Ondine start to feel at ease.

Pyotr turned to Hamish and welcomed him calmly with a handshake. Ondine had an inkling she was going to like this man as the colour returned to his lined face. He had the most obvious comb-over she'd ever seen. The wide parting began just above his ear and stretched his slick brown hair right over to the other ear. She had to give herself a mental kick to stop staring at it.

‘How old are you, Ondine?' Pyotr asked.

‘Fifteen, sir.'

‘I see. Then you can work in the afternoons, and attend the palechia school in the mornings. Once we find a new home for the school, of course. Please come with me.'

She couldn't believe how quickly Pyotr had recovered his composure.

The moment Pyotr turned away, Hamish squeezed Ondine's hand. Not to demonstrate his love – it was all about keeping a straight face while they gazed at that astonishing head of hair. Or not-hair. As much as she loved looking at Hamish, it took all her effort not to look at him right now, because if she did, she'd collapse in a fit of giggles.

Their feet clacking on the mosaic-tiled floor, the three of them followed Pyotr inside. Delicious aromas of roasting meat and vegetables wafted through the air. They must be somewhere near the kitchens.

‘Do you have any work experience?' Pyotr asked Ondine.

‘My parents run a pub and I help out a fair bit,' she said.

‘You know your way around a kitchen, then?'

‘Of course.'

Hamish squeezed her hand again. She kept her giggles in check as she answered more of Pyotr's questions while politely looking him in the eye and
trying very hard not to look at his hair. Odd that the seneschal wasn't asking Old Col or Hamish any questions. Then another twig snapped – Hamish and Col already had jobs. She, however, was at a loose end and the kind man was trying to find her something to do.

‘If the three of you would come this way, I'll take you to your lodgings. Then I shall inform the Duke of your attendance.'

‘He's here already?' Ondine asked.

‘Yes. A last-minute change of plans,' Pyotr said.

Aunt Col's brows shot up in surprise. ‘A good thing we came directly, then, otherwise we would have been cooling our heels in Venzelemma.'

Ondine couldn't help thinking her great aunt knew a lot more than she was letting on. Pyotr's acceptance of them was so fuss-free that Ondine began to wonder if something was afoot. Ondine might lack a lot of what might be called ‘life experience', but she trusted her instincts, and those instincts were telling her to be very careful. Which meant no gasping at the priceless paintings, no ooh-ing and ah-ing at the intricate
decorations and the luxurious furniture as they walked past open sitting rooms. She kept her eyes firmly fixed on the middle of Pyotr's back – not looking down in case he turned around and thought she was acting sullen. She dared not look up because of that tantalising bad hair.

‘This will be your room, Ondine,' Pyotr said, as they stopped outside door 404.

It was smaller than her bedroom at home. There were two narrow, single beds, one made up with a well-loved teddy bear sitting on the pillow and a crocheted blanket on the top. The other bed – which would be Ondine's – had plain white sheets and a beige quilt. Each bed had a matching white side table and a small white chest of drawers at the foot of the bed. The window looked out to a narrow, cobbled courtyard where washing flicked and flapped on the clothes lines.