Gaby Book 18 - Summery

 
I still woke early on Tuesday but at least I'd remembered to turn the alarm off so when I snoozed I wasn’t rudely awoken a few minutes later, rather it was the bin men that roused me. Quite a novelty for me, they are usually somewhere down the village when we go to school – hang on, what time is it? A grab at the clock managed to put it on the floor so I groped for my Handy which revealed it was quarter to nine.

Quarter to nine, bum! I might not be the most morning person but like half the day’s gone already. I might not be at school but I've still got stuff to do, training, some research for the kiosk and getting ready for a party. Oh, and I'll try ringing Bern, I'm guessing nothing too bad has happened, no news is good news, yeah?

“Wondered when you’d surface,” Dad opined when I reached the ground floor twenty minutes later.
“It’s not that late,” I replied on my way to the kitchen, “coffee?”
“I will have one, please, I spoke to your Mother last night.”

That’s what I missed this morning, Mum leaving for some race in Italy. I soon had the percolator going and started gathering stuff for my breakfast.

“About the kiosk?”
“Amongst other things,” he agreed joining me in the kitchen and sitting himself down.
“Er you want toast?”
“Go on then, some of us ate a couple of hours ago.”

We have a four slice toaster so I filled all the slots and busied myself with crockery and cutlery.

“So what did she say?”
I splashed yoghurt over my bran flakes and started eating.
“Well,” he started.
“She doesn’t want me to do it does she?” I interrupted.
“If you let me get a word in.”
“Soz.”

The toaster snapped the bread from its grilling at that moment so I retrieved the toast before Dad went on.

“Where was I,” he started coating his toast with butter, “she was surprisingly upbeat with the whole idea.”
“She’ll want family and friends,” I put in, “but?” With Mum there’s always a but.
“But nothing, kiddo, she thought it was a good idea, get you out of the house, make you a bit more independent.”
“Really?”
“Her words not mine,” he advised scraping some Marmite® over his toast.

“Hi, Mrs Rose,” I offered when the phone in far away Warsop was picked up by Bern's mum, “it’s Gaby, from Germany.”
“Gaby, I'm guessing you’re after Bernie?” she paused a moment then continued, “shouldn’t you be at school?”
“I'm finished until September.”
“That’s early.”
“It’s different here to England.”
“I guess so, I'll get my daughter for you.”
“Thanks, Mrs Rose.”

It seemed like ages but was probably just a couple of minutes before I heard someone pick up the handset in England.

“Hello? Mart?”
“It’s me, Bern.”
“Gab?”
“Yeah, didn’t your mum say?”
“She just said someone was on from Germany, I thought it might be Mart.”
“Just me I'm afraid, so?”
“So?”
“Meeting with the SS,” I prompted.
“Family court,” she corrected.
“Whatever, you’ve still got Drea?”
“Course, oh you don’t know do you, Mart was s'posed to tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
“Oh it was brill, you shoulda been there.”
“I wasn’t so spill,” I hinted.
“Well I told you about the SS woman…

Bern kept going into legalise which she then had to translate for me, the blonde with a small brain remember. Long and short, that Mike woman’s been suspended, apparently Drea wasn’t the only one she’d singled out as an adoption target and one of the other mothers was the daughter of a lawyer. Not only that but a rich lawyer with friends in high places, there’d been a secret internal investigation, unfortunately Bern and Drea had got caught in the middle.

Apparently, whilst Children’s Services does have an early adoption policy it doesn’t include removing children from stable homes unless there are other extenuating reasons. This Mike woman apparently had her own agenda and had removed six times more children from their birth parents than the rest of her department combined. The meeting, it had turned out, had been to apprise the affected parties, compensation had been mentioned, independent staff reviews – all sorts of stuff.

To cut to the chase, Drea Preiser was, whilst still on the ‘at risk’ register, not in any immediate danger of removal.

“Well that’s a relief, what's Mart say?”
“I think he’s relieved, there’s no rush for me to come to Germany and for us to get married.”

I can see how he’d be relieved about that, I didn’t exactly approve of the idea although of course I would’ve supported Bern all the way.

“So what’re you gonna do now?”
“Pass my GCSE’s, talking of which how come you’re ringing at this time on a school day?”
“Thought I told you, I finished last week, we had our exams weeks ago, got the results and everything.”
“I had a lot on my mind,” she pointed out, “so how’d you do?”
“Just scraped a pass.”
“Don’t s’pose your mum was that impressed by that.”
“She was okay with it.”
“I know your mum, just how much of a scrape was this pass,” Bern interrogated.
“Er eighty something percent,” I admitted.
“Speak up, I thought you said eighty percent.”
“I did.”
“Some scrape! So what’re you doing all summer?”
“Cons parents are opening snack bar, we’re gonna be the managers.”
“Pull the other one.”
“Straight up.”
“You gonna be much longer on there,” Dad called from the office, “I need to ring George.”
“Have to go, Bern, Dad’s complaining, give Drea a hug from Aunty Gabs.”
“I will, laters”
“Später,” I replied before hanging up.

“So what’re you wearing, later like?” Mand enquired as we started our ride in a less usual direction, up the hill out of Dernau to Esch.
“Dunno, haven’t really thought about it.”
“Oh come on, Gab, you must have some idea,” she pushed.
“I don’t.”
To be honest, beyond it being an end of school party I hadn’t really given it any thought whatsoever.
“How about that black tube dress?”
“Which is that?”
“That one you borrowed at Lilleshall.”

Lilleshall. It seems so long ago now, I was still in Gaby denial for the most part but Jess was determined I was Gaby. Out of all my friends Jess was never in any doubt about who I was, am, right from day one at Blades when I spent more time on my bum than on my skates. I really should write or something.

“I suppose,” I tried to envisage the frock in question, a black lycra tube dress with mesh sleeves and the décolletage decorated with some big flocked spots, oh yeah and it’s like seriously short.
“Think I'll wear the blue slip.”
“You got that stain out?” well last time she wore it she managed to get half a glass of red spilt down her back – long story.
“Yeah, it washed up pretty good.”

Today's ride, up to Rheinbach then around Meckenheim and back is perhaps a bit more rolling than usual, not flat but the climbing is certainly better distributed than going up to the ring. We passed Anna’s place, Gloria’s car wasn’t in evidence and of course Anna will probably be at college, it’s ages since she came out with us, I guess she has other friends now.

We rode along in comparative silence, it’s a nice afternoon, not much wind, just a few clouds marring an otherwise blue sky.
“Gab?”
“Hmm?”
“You ever think about what you’ll do after?”
“After what?”
“Well we can’t race forever, at some time it has to end.”
“Mum still races and she’s well old.”
“She’s not that old.”
“Nearly forty.”
“Whatever, so have you?”
“No.”

In my head at least I'll race forever, oh don’t get me wrong, I'll get some qualifications but I've no intention of using them.

“I have,” she allowed, “I'm hardly in your Super Girl class, I need a plan B for my life.”
“So what’re you gonna do then?”
“Maybe teach, sports science or something like that.”
“Sounds a doddle, on the other hand once we get on the top road we need to do some proper training.”

I looked at my reflection, at least black doesn’t clash with my hair, in fact it looks pretty good. It’s difficult to not keep tugging at the hem mind, it doesn’t quite reach mid thigh but with black strumpfhose and the net sleeves I'm probably showing less skin than most of the alternate options.

“You ready, Gab?” Mand called up to my eyrie.
“I guess.”

I grabbed my heels and padded downstairs.

“There might not be school tomorrow but I hope you’ll be sensible,” Dad mentioned as we extricated ourselves from the car.
“Yes, Dad.”
“We’ll keep an eye on her, Herr Bond,” Steffi told him, she’d caught a lift with us as well as Connie.
“That’s what I'm afraid of.”
“Da-ad!”

He’s not daft, he knows we’ll have some booze tonight, he also knows that my track record with alcohol is not good. The fact that we’re partying at the Sebenschuh Stube is unlikely to reassure him that much.

“Have a good evening, girls, ring when you want fetching.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I offered shutting the Merc’s door.
“Come on, Gab,” Con encouraged, “I smell pizza!”

Maddy Bell © 03.12.16