Ondine by Ebony McKenna Page A

magnet’, which is a term applied to a handsome man who draws women – or chicks – to him. Just as a regular magnet attracts paperclips and iron filings, seemingly without any effort. In fact, this is one of the elemental forces of nature at work, and is one of the easier aspects of physics to understand. Shambles the ferret was no chick magnet, but he was a trouble magnet, with an uncanny knack for attracting and finding trouble. You could say his knack for attracting trouble was also an elemental force of nature.
    The moment he slipped away from Ondine’s shoulder that morning, he followed his nose to the smell of frying sausages from one of the fund-raising stalls along the railway platform. The onions he didn’tcare for, but the sausages made his mouth water. 24 A plan formulated in his head – stay close to people near the barbecue and hot plates and sausages will drop from the sky.
    Soon, a suitable leg presented itself, with sturdy shoes and thick denim pants, making it easy for Shambles to get a grip. Before its owner could finish yelping, ‘What’s on my leg?’ he’d dropped his sausage, bread, onions and mustard on the ground. Shambles jumped free and launched himself towards his prize, grabbed it in his teeth and disappeared behind the stall. And oh, it was bliss, eating a sausage that was half as long as his body. The hot fat dripped over his chin. Chunks of meat-ish mince slid down his throat and warmed his belly. In another few chomps, all that remained of the meal was a smear of grease on his black fur.
    A clever person, perhaps even a not-so-clever person, might feel satisfied with that score and leave wellenough alone. Not Shambles. Filled with confidence at how well his first attempt had gone, he reasoned a second attempt would be even more successful.
    He didn’t have to wait long for another mark. This man had pants made from a thick canvas type material (Shambles hadn’t studied fashion, so didn’t know silk from sawdust) and a satchel on his side that made an excellent hitching post for a ferret to dig his claws and fangs into. In a heartbeat Shambles raced up his leg, grabbed on to the bag and opened his mouth to catch the sausage.
    Then it all went horribly wrong.
    The satchel opened and a gun fell out. Helpless, Shambles watched the weapon drop to the ground. It discharged on impact. His world split apart with the loudest sound he’d ever heard. Everyone screamed. Shambles hit a nearby wall with a thud and kept falling, his arms scrabbling for something to hang on to on the way down. His claws caught in a thick material – the man’s pants – and he clung on hard, lurching back and forth with momentum as the man ran off. Nasty hot bile filled the back of his throat. His ears filledwith screams. Then a whistle blew and heavy footsteps closed in. Several pairs of footsteps.
    From the corner of his eye, Shambles saw a policeman lunge towards them. He let go of the leg, fell hard on the pavement, and his world turned black.
    Back at the pub, things were so busy in the dining room the piano stood silent. Cybelle worked in the kitchen beside Chef, while Ondine and Colette took orders and served food.
    â€˜Ondi, take these meals to table twelve,’ Cybelle said, before she rushed back to the stove to remove a tray of savoury tarts.
    Her arms loaded with food (two plates balanced on one arm, a third plate on the other), Ondine took her orders and walked to the designated table. That’s when she saw Lord Vincent sitting at the head of it. Not that she was going to drop the plates or anything, but the sight of him nearly made her miss a step. He looked ruffled and gorgeous; his sun-kissed, dark blond hair was all messed up but his brown eyes were clear and bright, and trained on her.
    Heat crept up Ondine’s neck at the thought of him checking her out.
    â€˜It’s Ondine, isn’t it? That’s a beautiful name,’