“And don’t forget you need to get straight back this afternoon to get ready,” Mum called after me as I headed to the garage.
“Yes Mum,” I sighed pausing for what would inevitably follow.
“What are you proposing to wear?”
“My white bikini?”
“Gabrielle Bond!”
Ot oh, full name, not good, “team frock?”
“Really? Its a private do, didn’t think you’d want to be in that.”
“I thought we had to?” a sudden realisation hit me, “i don’t think I could wear it anyway.”
“Oh?” Mum queried poking her head over the bannister to see me.
“I left it with Angela Sunday with all the other kit, she was gonna get it cleaned.”
“She’s not your servant.”
“I know but she offered and I was sort of preoccupied.”
“So I take it you haven’t got anything out?”
“No Mum,” I sighed, “look i’m gonna be late for work.”
“Hmm, call me before lunch and let me know what you’ve decided so I’ve got time to iron.”
“Everythings ready to go in my wardrobe.”
“I’ve seen your ready young lady, clean maybe but looking like a dish rag, ring.”
“Yes Mum,” I sighed in defeat, “see you later.”

“What’re you looking like a wet Sunday about?” Nen asked as I stared out across the kiosk’s garden.
“Bike stuff.”
“Which one to ride?”
“Nah, its complicated and the team’s having a party tonight and I need to decide on a dress.”
“Lucky you’ve got a choice.”
“It would be simpler if I didn’t,” I lamented.
“So is it like formal or a bitchin’ disco?”
“Eh?”
“You know, long frocks or disco diva?”
“Somewhere between?” I suggested.
“Well that gets rid of half your wardrobe then.”
“I guess.”
“So what’s everyone else wearing?”
I scrambled through my memories of previous Apollinaris do’s, to be honest I usually feel overdressed, “sort of girls night crossed with smart dinner?”
“Gott, you are useless Gabs.”
“Cheers friend.”
“How about that short black one with the lace,” she suggested.

I had to think, black with lace?

“Really Gab, you wore it for Steffi’s birthday?”
“That black dress,” I allowed, still none the wiser, “I guess it’d be okay, i’ll ring Mum and tell her, it probably wants pressing.”
“Must be nice having staff,” she deadpanned.
“She’s not, its just...”
Nen cracked up, “got you!”

“Mum?”
“Gaby.”
“Dress for tonight?”
“I thought I was gonna have to ring you.”
“We’ve been busy – ish,” I hedged.
“So you telling me or have I got to use ESP?”
“ESP? Oh right um yeah, i’ll wear that black dress, with the lace?”
“I’ll find it, you have got hose and undies I presume?”
“Course,” somewhere, I didn’t vocalise.
“Right, i’ll find the dress out and don’t go too far, we have to leave by seven.”
“Yes Mum,” I sighed, well as I’m on my own I wasn’t planning on a long ride anyhow.
“See you later then kiddo.”
“Yeah, tschussie.”

“I looked such an idiot,” Max lamented between chunks of Currywürst, todays lunch offering.
“Right,” I noted, “wonder if anyone recorded it?”
“You asked Con?” Max suggested around a fistful of Pommes.
“Why would she tape it?”
“Trust me, just ask her.”
“I will when I see her, I thought she’d come up today.”
“Probably sorting her Briefmark collection,” he chuckled.
“She doesn’t have one.”
“How’d you know?” he shot back.
“Well i’d just know and anyhow girls don’t collect stamps.”
“They don’t collect mini autos either,” he countered.
“A, er, yeah, well.”
“So maybe Con does collect stamps?”
I had to concede his point, “I guess she might.”
“So we meeting later?”
“I can’t, we’ve got some daft team dinner thing, you know to celebrate everyone's medals from the weekend?”
“Guess it’ll wait,” he sighed, “where you eating?”
“No idea, I just have to be ready, front and centre at seven.”
“What about tomorrow?”
“Working at the Stube.”
“i could walk you home?”
“With Con and Mand?”
He shrugged and shovelled more fried potato into his maw, “they can kiss if they want.”
“Max!” I swatted at his head.
“What?” he enquired deflecting my hand with his sticky fork.

I’m sure he was just joshing or does he know that Mand sort of swings towards the fairer sex? I’m sure Con doesn’t, no course not, I’d know, she is my BF after all.

“Have a good party Gab.”
“I’ll try,” I called back as I pushed off towards Ahrbrück under leaden skies – I could do without a drenching this afternoon.

It didn’t take long to get into a rhythm and to be lost in my thoughts. Riding seems to do that, polarise the stuff going on in your head that is, you can’t stay angry or upset for long once you get riding. Oh I know it doesn’t actually solve any issues as such but you can usually get your head straight, see things a bit clearer.

So of course my mind drifted to the backroom dealing and subterfuge regarding my cycling career by Dad caused by BC’s change in priorities. I suppose I can sort of see their end, out on the road there are so many variables to affect the result – lets face it, at best we are a second tier road nation, Britain that is, even Ireland has won the Tour, we’ve never even podiumed and don’t look likely to in a hurry. I guess we’ve got a bit more success in the bank on the boards, certainly there’s been more Worlds medals and stuff like Chris Boardman and that Obree chap with the Hour record.

Yeah I get that but to just dump the road programme, well its definitely a pisser and a kick in the, well you know, its not fair! I was riding on autopilot, barely taking note of anything beyond the ten metres of tarmac ahead of me. Seemingly too quickly I was changing down the gears as the climb through Staffel started to bite.

Staffel, the Preiser farm, will Bern really come out here to live in a few weeks? it’ll be a bit weird if she does, its weird enough as it is with her being a mother, out of everyone back in Warsop i’d have put her last in the likely motherhood stakes. but I guess life has its own tricks to play on all of us, this malarkey with BC being just the latest thrown my way.

“Heya Gab!”

The voice broke through my wool gathering.

“Hi Mart, what’re you up to?” I asked pulling in beside him.
“Got conned into trimming the grass before the Heimatfest, as if I don’t have enough to do,” he moaned, “so you training?”
“Supposedly,” I allowed.
“Congrats on the titles by the way, saw you on Rhein Abend last night, you’ll have your own show soon.”
“Not you too!”
“Eh?”
“Nen said the same.”
“Well you have been on the box a few times,” Mart observed.
“I guess,” I agreed as I glanced at my comp, “that the time?”
Mart looked at his watch, “five past six.”
“Sugar! I need to shoot, some party thing tonight, we’re leaving at seven,” I clicked a foot back in, “laters.”
“Yeah, take care,” he called to my departing back.

Dang! I concentrated on my riding rather than my thoughts, with a bit of luck i’ll have a few minutes to shower and change. Of course if I’d have thought I would’ve retraced down to Ahrbrück and saved time but instead I pushed on over the top to Ramersbach. I was in full race mode now, the seconds seemingly flowing away like water down the plughole, after a close squeeze with a horsebox I did reign things back a bit.

“What time do you call this?” Mum enquired as I raced through the hall en route to my eyrie.
“Sorree!”
“Your dress is hanging on your mirror!”
“Thanks!

I scrabbled up the stairs, half undressing on my way. I glanced at my frock as I completed my striptease – that black dress, have to wear a half cup with that. Into the shower, well I am not going out all slimy with sweat, no way even if it is a bit of a wet and run.
“How you doing?” Mand enquired from the doorway.

“Can you get my new shoes out of the wardrobe, they’re on the shelf on the left.”
“Didn’t think you were going far?”
“I didn’t, up or down?”
“Up.”
“Right, I only went up round Staffel but my mind wasn’t on it and then I saw Marty and stopped for a chat.”
“These?” Mand enquired waving ‘those’ shoes, you know, from CentrO.
“Cheers.”
“See you down stairs.”

I found a suitable BH and matching knicks, after checking the pins I decided to go bare legged which sort of works better with the shoes. Dress, bag, Gran’s earrings and the matched necklace – I can do my makeup in the car. I grabbed my shoes and almost ran back down to the ground floor.

“Yes!” I announced dropping my shoes ready to put the stilts on.
“Er Gab,” Dad hinted.
“Um?”
“You might want to put your bra on under your dress?”

Mum and de Vreen were almost in hysterics, Dad was failing to keep a straight face too. Ooooooo!

Maddy Bell © 09.10.2017