Gaby Book 18 - Summery

 
“How are we getting to Pia’s tomorrow?” Mand enquired.

Mum had neatly sidestepped cooking dinner by claiming to have a meeting, and Dad well guess who was making cottage pie?

“Ride up I guess,” I suggested between beating seven shades of hell out of the taters.
“’Kay,” my audience allowed.

Of course it’s not that far, just over a kilometre, we could walk it in maybe ten fifteen minutes but riding gives us a bit more independence – can’t always rely on Dad’s Taxi.

“You can use Bern’s bike, it should only need the tyres pumping.”

Indeed the beast the Rents bought for Bern has been sat in the corner of the bike room collecting dust since last summer.

“Why not my road bike?”
“Make the gravy eh, get all togged up for a five minute ride?”
“It’s only shoes.”
“But then you have to carry your others and you need to take a coat.”
“I guess, er how thick do you want this?”

I looked at her sorry excuse for gravy, why do I bother, I end up doing it myself most of the time.

“Heard any more from Bern?” Mart asked after parking his Mofa.
“Not directly, Mum spoke to Cheryl, they’ve got an appointment at Citizens Advice today.”
“What’s that?” Mart asked falling in beside me for the walk to the main building.

What is it? Good question, I know they have an office in Warsop, it’s in a converted house near Sylv’s salon.

“I think they try to help if you have problems with the council and stuff, free lawyers and stuff.”
“Like the Öra in Bonn, I think they do the same.”
“I'm sure we’ll find out if there’re any developments.”
“Er yeah, you know I love her – and Drea.”
“Don’t worry, I'm sure it’ll all turn out okay,” I crossed my fingers.

“I'll come round to yours a bit early, we can do our hair before we go up,” Con told me as we queued to pay for our drinks.
“Er okay,” I hadn’t even thought about that.
“You alright, Gab?”
“Just a bit distracted, you know, this business with Bernie and Drea.”
“It’s not your fault and there's nothing you can do is there?”
“Guess not.” It doesn’t stop me worrying though.

“How d’you want it?” Mand asked brushing my candyfloss to within an inch of its existence.
“I dunno, just tidy?”
“Drink your coffee and leave it to me,” she almost cackled.

Oh boy.

“Hey guys,” Con greeted joining us in the kitchen.
“Coffee in the jug,” I advised.
“So how are you doing our Prinzessin Mand?” Con enquired as she located a mug for her coffee.
“Crown?”
“Oo yeah, you still got those sparkly grips you used at Weihnachts, Gabs?”
“Somewhere,” I admitted, look I don’t use that sort of stuff, maybe a couple of grips to keep it out of my face but otherwise it’s just elastics with the odd scrunchie to dress things up.
“Start braiding, Mand, I'll go find the sparkles.”
“Try the second drawer,” Mand suggested, “she dumps everything in there.”
Con put her coffee down and headed up to my eyrie.
“Do not!”
“Where did you find your Gran’s earrings?”
“Well I forgot to put them in their case.”
“I arrest my case,” she tugged at my hair and started the hair twisting.
“Don’t you think this is a bit over the top for serving dinner?”
“It’s pretty simple, your roots are showing already, you’ll have to go for a touch up.”
“That is so not going to happen.”
“Just saying.”
“So how are you and Con having your hair?”
“Thought I'd give the Princess Leia look a go.”
“Pretzels,” I offered.
“Yeah.”
“Ta da!” Con announced rejoining us, “found you some earrings too.”
“Nothing dangly,” I suggested.
“Just some studs,” she advised dropping them into my hand.

Ah, the Edelweiss and my erm diamond studs.

“Let’s see,” Mand asked.
“They weren’t paired so I had to root around a bit to match them up.”
“Gab, you really need to sort stuff out, aren’t they the diamonds Sophia gave you?” Mand opined.
“Um yeah,” I admitted.
“Ga-ab!” they both chorused.

“Looking good,” Ingrid announced when the three of us arrived at the Sebenschuh’s Weinstube. Con and Mand both had their hair in pretzels and our make-up specialist had given us each a similar restrained makeover – I still felt like a right plonker riding along Zaungarten.
“Er thanks.”
“Your Kostüm are in the service room.”
“Pia changing?” Con queried.
“Yeah, go on through, use my room if you need more space.”
“’Kay,” I allowed following the others out of the public area.

Having already put on scanties and hose before coming getting dressed was quite straightforward. There was some hilarity with the Büstenheber.

“I need one of these all the time,” Pia opined.
“I look like I'm hiding a pair of melons in here,” Con added.
“You don’t have to wear it,” I pointed out.
“You kidding,” she hurriedly replied as she adjusted her girls again, “hey we should wear these to school.”
“Really?” I proposed.
“Yeah, brill idea,” P enthused, “we could do it Friday.”
“I am not wearing Kostüm to school,” I stated.
“Not the Kostüm dumbo, the Büstenheber.”
“I've got that new top,” Con gleefully added.
“Boxberg will go potty,” I surmised.
“What’s she gonna do, expel us?”
“Some of us have got summer school.”
“You’re no fun,” Pia pouted.
Our discussion was cut short by Eva, Pia’s mum, calling through, “You girls ready?”
“Coming!” P called back.

If we’d got any ideas of ‘just’ serving food this evening that wasn’t turned into reality. After passing the scrutiny of the Boss and his wife we were tasked with laying tables, drying plates and other restaurant husbandry.

“Coach is here,” Mand observed.

I looked away from my napkin folding and out of the expanse of windows that enclose the restaurant area. Sure enough there was a big white coach waiting to turn into the parking area, ‘Global Holidays’ emblazoned along the side in metre high letters.

“Dad!” P shouted out, “Punters!”
“I've told you before, they’re guests,” Helmet stated from the bar, “okay, Gaby, Con out front please, how much more is there to do?”
“Few more napkins and the water.”
“Right then, Amanda, can you finish the napkins, P sort the water.”

Con and I relinquished our seats and after straightening skirts and aprons went through to the Stube.

“Okay girls,” Helmet started, “you’re the meet and greet, big smiles, hellos, take coats if they have them.”
“Er okay,” I allowed, “English or German?”
“I know you want to practice the English but I think it’s better here to stick with our own language for now.”
“Okay, Herr S,” Con agreed.

It’s not just us girls in Kostüm, Helmut’s looking pretty dapper himself in Landeskostüm and the Stube has gained some hunting ‘trophies’ from somewhere – pretty sure Mr S doesn’t shoot so they probably came from a shop.

“Er hello?” we turned to see who’d spoken, “the door was open, Julia Brown, Global, you’re expecting us?”

The woman was quite pretty for her age, she was at least twenty five, so I'm guessing the bright yellow skirt, white blouse and yellow neck tie thing weren’t her idea.

“Ah, Helmut Sebenschuh, welcome.” he took the proffered hand and performed a very Prussian hand shake, clicking heels, the whole nine er eight point two metres.
“Are you ready for us?”

Her German wasn’t bad, bit forced but understandable.

“Sure, sure, if you bring them round, the girls, Connie’s the tall one, Gabrielle the tiny one will look after them. There’s schnapps on the tables if they like, we should be ready to serve in about twenty minutes.”
“Nice to meet you, girls,” Julia allowed, “Chris wasn’t wrong, they’re gonna love this! Right, I'll go fetch them.”

The English woman departed and we stationed ourselves either side of the door.

“Wonder where she learnt German?”
“It’s as good as my English,” Con observed.
“You’re not that bad, I've got to take extra classes,” I admitted.
“Pretty ironic, eh?”
“Girls, smiles,” Helmut prompted as the first of the visitors arrived.

The coach was pretty much full, fifty passengers plus the driver, Phil something and Julia, by the time they were all in the Stube it was quite crowded. Talk about weird, it’s been ages since I've been exposed to this much English being spoken, in fact it was when we went to that dinner thing in York before Christmas. Half the time at home we speak a mixture although Jules prefers English despite having a German boyfriend.

As you might guess, our guests were majorly older, our parents age or older – some a lot older! They seemed a happy enough bunch, I suppose they are on holiday after all and we, dressed like Bavarian serving wenches, are the entertainment sort of. Phil managed to get his charges attention and Helmut cleared his throat.

“Welcome to the Stube Sebenschuh, in a few minutes we’ll go through to the dining room for your meal. The girls will take your drinks orders or there is wasser on the tables. After you have eaten there will be an opportunity to take a tour of our wine cellars and of course to sample our wares.”
I reckon he’d been practising his English.
“So please, when you are ready.”
“Thank you Helmut,” Julia started, “just a reminder, you are responsible for your own bar bills, enjoy yourselves.”

Maddy bell © 22.11.16