Gaby Book 18 - Summery

 
I checked my overnight bags contents again, team frock – check, wash bag – check, underwear – check, PJ’s? No pyjamas. Now where did I put them?

“You ready yet?” Mand asked poking her head over the top step.
“Almost,” I advised finding my nightwear under my case, “what’s the rush?”
“Just checking, I know what you’re like.”
“Cheeky moo.”
“Anyway,” she went on ignoring my slur, “your dad’s gone to the tankstelle so you’ve got a few minutes.”
“How comes you were already packed?”
“Planning? Oh and I didn’t spend half the night prancing about at the Tanzklub.”
“It wasn’t half the night,” I offered in my defence.
“Well I did my packing last night.”

I closed the lid and tugged the zip closed.

“You should take your wig.”
“What for?”
“Well it wouldn’t clash with the team dress like the pink.”
“Hmmph!”
“Hey, you could wear it today, wind the others up.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Why not?”
“Not happening,” I stated.

Dad made a double take when I got to the bus.

“What?”
“Nothing, you got everything?”
“Duh?”
“Just checking, you sitting up here?”
“I'll leave it for Angela.”
“Well get in then,” he instructed.

“Not a word,” I warned.
Mand raised her hands in surrender, ”Wasn’t gonna.”
“I am not wearing it for the race,” I added.
“Wasn’t suggesting it.”

We were already heading onto the motorway spur, I wonder how many times we’ve made this journey? After the last few days of nice, season appropriate weather this morning arrived overcast with a fine drizzle – not cold but hardly pleasant either. The autobahn was like a strip of spray across the landscape, to either side it looked dry by comparison, I just hope it’s dry tomorrow – I hate racing in the wet.

The matrix signs as we approached Kӧln suggested a local football derby, 1FC versus Bayer Leverkusen, I'm glad we aren’t going anywhere near that! By the time we made our exit for Mettmann the rain was more persistent, it’s gonna be a fun drive up to Hannover if this keeps up.

“Where’re we going?” instead of turning left we’d gone right.
“Bit of a detour,” Dad told us.
“Detour?”
“You’ll see.”

The road signs suggested we were headed into Solingen famous, like Sheffield back in England, for cutlery, knives in particular. But why were we going? We turned at another junction and found ourselves stuck behind a trolleybus, you know what I mean, they look like a normal bus but run off overhead electric like trams – I never realised they had them here.

We weren’t behind it that long before Dad spoke.

“Here we go.”
“Where?” I craned out the window, all I could see was trees on our side and some factory on the other.

We had to wait before we could turn in next to the factory.

“Haribo®?” Mand exclaimed, “like the bears?”
“Only one I know,” Dad mentioned with a grin in his voice.
“What’re we doing here?”
“A bit of shopping.”
“Shopping?”
“There a parrot in here? Yes shopping,” Dad stated pulling the bus into a rough parking area.
“For what?” I persisted.
“What do you think,” Pater quested as he got out.
“Haribo?”
“Eventually she gets it,” Mand opined.
“Well are you two coming or what?”

Hey, when I do manage to join the dots I can make the connections. It was a Keystone moment as Mand and I dived for the now open door together.

“Oh...my...god!” Mand stated.
“Kew-el!” I added.

It was a visual and nasal assault on the senses, a shop selling nothing but Haribo and Maoam sweets.

“Oh boy, gummi bear heaven,” my sidekick added.
“Can we get stuff?” I asked.
“Be my guest,” Dad told us, “I've got an order to collect for George, try not to spend too much.”

We didn’t need another invite, Mand grabbed a basket and we joined the other shoppers.

“How much?”
“That’s like less than half price,” I quickly calculated.
“I suppose it is the factory.”
“Gott, there’s kilo bags of one flavour!”
“Two ninety,” Mand read off the shelf label.

“Just how much did you spend,” Dad enquired as he stowed my and Mand’s purchases.
“Twenty?” I suggested.

It was actually closer thirty but he doesn’t need to know that, well you can’t pass up the opportunity can you? I hadn’t gone that mad, Mand spent nearly as much – I guess that is a lot sweets. Anyway, he could hardly talk, there’s like two big boxes in the back.

“Just don’t make yourselves ill,” he suggested with a shake of his head.
“Sweetie?” I offered, proffering the rather large bag of pick ‘n’ mix.

I didn’t mention that did I, they have like a whole wall with about every Haribo as pick ‘n’ mix, I must admit I got a bit carried away, a scoop of this, one of that, bears, cherries, sours, allsorts – you name it they’re in there.

It’s not that far or long a journey from the Haribo place to Mettmann, back across the autobahn, down through the next village then it’s like up the hill, turn left and we’re there. The family car was on the drive which means Marcus Grönberg, Ron’s dad is home, quite a rarity. We piled out – well it’s rare we don’t have at least coffee when we stop at the Grönberg’s isn’t it.

“Don’t get too comfortable up there,” Dad warned as we headed to Ron’s burrow armed with coffee and Streusel .
“Yes, Dad,” I groaned before following the others upstairs.

“We stopped at the Bear factory,” Mand supplied enthusiastically.
“Bear factory?”
“Gummis,” I enlarged.
“Haribo? Over in Solingen?”
“Yeah,” Mand agreed, you been?”
“Of course, we used to go regularly when I was smaller, birthdays and Weihnachts wouldn’t be the same without Gummi bears. I'm guessing you stocked up?”
“Not many,” Mand told our hostess, “it’s so cheap there.”
“No middlemen, straight from the factory.” Ron observed.

They can talk if they want but I was concentrating on Angela’s home-made Streusel, just the right amount of filling, not too dry, plenty of icing – well just how I prefer it.

“Hmm,” I allowed, “thish ish gud.”
“Gab!” Mand complained brushing imaginary crumbs off herself.

Ron collapsed into hysterics closely followed by myself then finally Mand.

“Clearly something’s funny,” Dave mentioned as the sound of the girls hilarity drifted downstairs.
“So the insurance aren’t paying out?” Marcus asked.
“Not for now, apparently it could get quite complicated, my insurance, the builders, the cement company, crane people.”
“A regular can of worms,” Angela noted.
“So what do you do in the meantime?”
“I'm hoping George will let me use the bus Marcus but the senior squad will need it for domestic stuff.”
“Something will turn up,”
Dave sighed, “I hope so, I really do.”

“Come on guys, long way to go,” Dad chivvied, “where’s Gaby?”
“Here, had to have a wee.”
“TMI Gabs,” Ron mentioned.

How comes as a boy I could say that without any repercussions but as me, that's girl me, it’s not acceptable? What am I supposed to say?
The Grönberg’s made their farewells, it was heading towards one by the time we started the journey into Niedersachsen. It’s around three hundred kilometres, a good three hours in the bus without a stop, I doubt if we’ll be at the hotel much before five.

“Geez, Gab, how much Haribo?”
“It’s not just for me,” I protested.
“She says.”
“Angela, she’s picking on me,” I bleated to her mother.

“We stopped at Haribo on the way up,” Dave told the woman beside him.
“Don’t tell me, the pick ‘n’ mix?”
“I think she got a couple of kilos.”
“That's a lot of sweets,” Angela observed.

I wasn’t really taking much notice of our route, one bit of autobahn looks much like another. We stopped at Gütersloh services for a leg stretch and toilets, and having outrun the rain, we enjoyed ice cream in the warming sunshine. Back on the road again I actually fell asleep after Ron and de Vreen started playing cards.

“What’s happening?” maybe it was a change in engine tone or just deceleration but I was disturbed from my slumber.
“Traffic’s at a standstill in front,“Dad called back.
“All we need,” I grumbled, “where’s the sweets?”
“You ate them all,” Ron stated.
“Did not, come on, guys?”
“Been asleep for an hour and the first thing on her mind is sweets,” Mand noted.
“Wasn’t the first thing,” I pouted, “sweets?”
“Stop teasing her,” Angela instructed as we edged forward.
“Here you are, moanie,” Mand told me as she retrieved the weighty bag of confectionery.
“I only wanted to know where they were.”
“Gaby!” the rest of the bus announced in a chorus.

Maddy Bell © 16.01.17