Beep, beep...beep, beep...beep, beep.
I flung a hand out to silence the incessant noise before cracking an eye open. And it really was cracking, there was enough gritty sleep crusting my eyelids to sink a battleship. Once that issue was addressed I lay back and looked up through the rooflite, not raining and the thin cloud cover suggested it would be a fair day.
A smug little smile formed on my face as I relived last night, well the bit where Max and I, you know, had a bit of a make out session out on the patio. So okay it wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined it but after a week of ‘celibacy’, a few minutes of smooching was quite a tonic. However I could only put off the inevitable for so long, just beating Mum’s encouragement to rise.
“You getting up kiddo?”
“Already up!” I called back as I debated black bra or white.
“Coffee’s on.”
“’kay.” how can she be so chipper at this time of the morning?
“Where’s Dad?” I enquired when I eventually got to the kitchen – well I couldn’t find anything to wear could I?
“Having a lie in,” Mum replied as she flipped through Radsport.
Dad staying in bed beyond seven is a note on the calendar but I guess it was a long day yesterday – I think it was almost ten thirty when he and Mand got home or was it later? I think Max had already left so maybe it was closer to eleven. Bit of a bugger though, I was hoping for a lift this morning.
“So what’re you up to today?”
“Apart from a huge pile of washing?”
“I said I’d do it,” I interrupted.
“And I said I would,” she asserted, “session with the girls after lunch.”
“Right,” I allowed.
“Guessing your hedging for a lift this morning?”
“Erm,” am I really that transparent?
“Well get your bum in gear, the bus leaves in ten minutes.”
“Whoa!” Con opined when she arrived with her dad and the day’s bread.
“What?”
“Looks like you caught the sun.”
“A bit,” I agreed, well a lot really, my German tan has developed into something of a much darker hue in Spain although I could do without the cyclists hands, you know, pale from wearing mitts with a dark spot on the back from the open back.
“So how was it, you know, Espana?”
“Hot obviously,” I started.
It might only be a week that I’ve been away but it still seemed pretty weird swapping riding Spanish mountains in thirty degrees to cooking Pommes in Altenahr. On the one hand it was neat being back with Con and Nena but I’d forgotten how tiring just being stood can be. When I heard the familiar putt-putt of Max’s mofa I was more than ready for a break.
“Urgh!” I declared, “my feet are killing.”
“I thought you’re supper fit?” Max suggested poking a frite into the dollop of mayo on his plate.
I eased my shoes off and reached down to give my toes a rub, “its different to being stood all day.”
“Here, maybe this’ll help,” he poked a chunk of his Currywürst at me.
I’ve been resisting all morning but that was too much, I grabbed his hand and guided the tasty morsel into my mouth, “hmmm.”
“Hey!” he complained as I relieved him of the fork and speared more sausage.
“What?”
He let out a sigh, “I wasn’t that hungry anyway.”
“So, later?” von Strechau hinted as I finished his Currywürst off, well I left him most of the Pommes.
“Later?”
“You fancy a walk, you know, the vineyard?”
Hmm, tempting. My time to allow a sigh, “can’t, I’ve got cheer, Monday remember?”
“Could come and meet you?” he suggested.
“And Mand and P?”
“Oh well.”
“We can go tomorrow,” I offered in turn, “I’ve got training but I’m free after.”
“Sounds promising.”
“What are you two plotting?” Nen enquired joining us.
“Just a walk up the fitness thing,” I told her.
“And they say romance is dead,” Nena stated.
“So what’s up?” I queried in turn.
Well apparently the coffee machine was up and my technical skills were required to sort it out. Max made himself scarce, I’m not actually sure what he does, Max things I guess. Anyhow, the machine wasn’t doing anything like producing coffee, just making a lot of noise and flashing error symbols.
“I just pushed for milk coffee,” Nen told me.
I sighed and opened the front, a quick check of the pipes, hit the reset button and close the door.
“That should sort it,” I announced.
“What did you do?” Con asked.
“Nothing really, just reset it.”
"That it? So why’d it go loopy?” Nen queried.
“Think it was confused, it did the same to me the other week, I think it wanted to do a self clean at the same time I pressed the button for coffee.”
“Phew, for a minute I thought I’d blown it up.”
“Glad to be back Gabs?” Con chuckled.
And do you know, I actually was. Cheer, work – even training, getting back into the routine after the Spanish excursion felt good, gave me some purpose.
“Come on slow coach!” I called back down the track.
“You cheated,” Max puffed back.
“I do so not cheat.”
“If you say so, hang on a bit.”
To be honest I’d stopped because my trainer had come undone anyway so I attended to that as I waited for von Strechau to reach me.
“Gotcha!”
Even though I knew he was coming, when Max grabbed me around the waist I was slightly surprised and gave a very girly squeal. When he started tickling me I started aimlessly batting at him.
“Give over!”
“What’s it worth?”
“Anything, just stop.”
“Anything?”
“Yes! Now give over,” I told him as I squirmed under the attack.
The tickling ceased and I found myself pulled against him whereupon his lips found their way onto my neck – oh boy!
“Not here.”
“Why not, there’s no one about,” he got out around chewing at my ear.
“Frau Holdorf?” I suggested.
“She does seem to always turn up,” he agreed.
“Come on, I know somewhere a bit more, er private.”
And so I half dragged him further up the hillside before turning between the rows of vines.
“I’ve missed this,” Max allowed some time later as we lay watching the clouds scud across the blue above us.
“Its only been a couple of weeks,” I observed.
To be honest I’ve missed it too, being held, kissed, the touching and yes even his playing with my nose ring. Okay that last one is a bit weird but Max seems to like it and other than being a bit tickly its pretty harmless. Who would’ve thought nose licking could be so, er sensual?
“You’ve not missed making out?”
“Never said that,” I countered.
“Summer’s nearly over.”
“And?”
“We’ll have to find somewhere less er exposed to do this.”
“I guess.”
“Well that's if you want to?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“You might meet someone else, lots of lads in Koblenz.”
“Should I be looking?” I teased as I raised myself onto my elbows.
“Well I’m not.”
“Didn’t think you swung that way.”
“Eh?”
“Lads, you said there were a lot in Koblenz,” I giggled.
I blush at the drop of an innuendo, Max was even quicker now!
“I er, wasn’t, you know...”
“Oh shut up,” I interrupted before rolling over and planting my lips against his kissing gear.
“There you are,” Dad mentioned when I slunk indoors.
“Here I am,” I agreed.
“Helmut rang while you were ‘amusing’ yourself with Max.”
Dad has such a way with words, “oh?”
“Can you wear your fancy Kostum tomorrow and maybe lend Mand your other one?”
“I guess,” I allowed, “did he say why?”
“Something about it being the last one of the coach trips.”
I shrugged, “fair enough, suppose I’d best run an iron over it.”
“Oh I had Frank Obermeyer on the phone earlier.”
I raised a brow, should I know who that is? “yeah?”
“We were talking about Canada, the World’s?”
“Ah, that Frank Obermeyer.”
“That Frank Obermeyer,” he confirmed.
“So what about Canada? We aren’t driving are we?”
“Don’t be so daft kiddo, you’ll be flying.”
“thank heavens for that, hang on, what do you mean, i’ll be flying, what about you?”
“We’ve decided that I won’t be going.”
“Won’t be going? What do you mean, you always go, what about Mum?”
“BC haven’t selected her kiddo.”
“But she’s the reigning champion,” I pointed out.
“It wasn’t my decision Gab.”
“So I go on my own?”
“Well not quite, you’ll be travelling with the rest of the team, Roni’s going and Anja.”
“What about Gret and Tal?”
“Just Tali, oh and that Beyer girl from the championships.”
“Izzy? Came third?”
“That’ll be her.”
“That it? No one else?”
“’fraid not kiddo, the German’s don’t have BC’s budget.”
Maddy Bell © 09.07.2018
Of course it was a lot to take on board and I lay in my eyrie contemplating what it all meant.
So I wonder what Helmut’s up to, he’s always got something going on, guess we’ll find out tomorrow on that one. And just what are BC up to? I mean, not selecting Mum is just dumb, she’s the best they’ve got – hmm, maybe they’re taking my defection out on her – that's just so unfair if that's the case.
And then there’s my trip to Canada, I suppose it had to happen at some point and its not like I’ve not ridden without Dad about before is it? And its not like its just me going is it, I’ll have Tal and Iz as back up and Roni’ll be there too. But it won’t be the same – bum I should’ve asked about who BC are taking.
“Mand, you decent?” I called through her door.
“Hmm? Gab?”
I took that as a yes and pushed my way in.
“Morning!”
“Wotcha want at this time?”
“Apparently you need this for tonight,” I told her, brandishing my original Kostum in its plastic cover.
“I do? Oh I do, your Dad mentioned it when he picked me up, any idea what its all about?”
“None,” I admitted hanging said garment off the wardrobe door, “you might want to run the iron over it.”
“Now there’s a surprise,” she mumbled.
“well I’d best get off, Schnitzel to cook, Pommes to fry!”
“Such a glamorous life.”
“Laters!”
“Helmut get you last night?” Con enquired when I arrived at the kiosk.
“Left a message with Dad, any idea what's going on?”
“Something about publicity photo’s.”
“As long as that's it, guess I’d best do my hair then,” I allowed.
“Does that mean I have to put mine up too?”
I shrugged, “up to you, it hides the pink in my mop a bit.”
“Its not that noticeable.”
“You’re just used to it,” I suggested.
“Maybe,” she agreed.
“You two doing anything this morning?” Kris hinted from the hatch.
Mum always says ‘if a jobs’s worth doing its worth doing well’ and I’m inclined to agree with her. And so when I got home it was straight into the shower, hair washed, conditioned, quick check for errant stuff elsewhere then set to getting dressed. When I’m wearing the usual plain uniform dirndl I generally just wear normal knickers and stuff but I’ve got posh stuff for the posh Kostum, nice BH, pretty pants, silky hose – well you get the idea.
“I take it you aren’t going out like that,” Dad suggested when I swept into the lounge with my sandwich.
“Eh?” I glanced at how I was dressed, “oh no, don’t want to get anything on my dirndl.”
Its not like I’m half naked or anything, I’ve got on everything except the overdress and apron – yep I’ve got my er, enhancer thing on, looks like I’ve got a right pair rather than the modest B cups I’m endowed with.
“Just checking,” he allowed, “i suppose you want taxi-ing up?”
“Nah, I think we can manage to walk.”
“Can’t say I didn’t offer.”
“Maybe on the way back?” I hinted.
“Okay, so you found out what its all about yet?”
“Con thinks its for some publicity photos.”
“Tell Helmut you want modelling fees.”
“Like that's gonna happen.”
By the time Con arrived, my hairdresser, aka Mand had my hair in two neat pretzels, my Edelweiss earrings were in, after some debate my diamond nose hook, nails repainted and subtle but immaculate makeup. De Vreen opted for a single braided bun so the pair of us looked, well I reckon, well pukka.
“Trust you,” Con sighed seeing the Bond contingent, “you just had to go all out didn’t you.”
She was looking pretty boss herself, maybe not quite as over the top as me and Mand but still well on it.
“You want me to have a play?” Mand offered.
“We got time?”
“Plenty,” I opined.
“Go on then,” she agreed.
Do you know the weirdest thing, despite being done up to the nines I always feel really comfortable in my Kostum. If I wear a posh frock, or a party dress I always seem to be tugging at something, readjusting things but despite all the various bits, I always forget how I’m dressed when I’m dirndl-ed. I’ve even gone all out with footwear, well you can’t wear plimmies with posh can you so I’ve got eight centimetre heels on.
“Dunno how you walk in them Gabs,” Mand observed.
“Practice?”
“Come off it Bond,” Con put in, “when do you ever wear heels, you are definitely a trainers girl.”
"I wore those heels on the school trip.”
“Once.”
“Do I know about this?” Mand queried.
“Might’ve been before you came, we all dressed up to go to Bonn Museum, skirts, hose, the lot, Bond had like twelve centimetre heels on all day.”
“I am here,” I pointed out.
“Have to say Con, for someone who doesn’t wear them, she does have quite a collection,” Mand opined.
“Guys?”
“Well I guess she is kind of short,” Con noted.
“Hmph!”
“You hear something Mand?”
de Vreen couldn’t contain herself any longer and burst into laughter, “your face Gab!”
By now we were at the Sebenschuh's place where Ing greeted us wearing clearly new kitchen scrubs or whatever you call them.
“Whoa, you guys really went all out.”
“Were we not supposed to?” Con proposed.
“No, I mean yes, papa will be well pleased, my sister less so.”
“So what’s going off Ingrid?” Mand asked.
“My Tante Elsa, she visited at the weekend.”
“And?” I pressed.
“I’m getting there, well to cut a long story short, she suggested Dad get some new brochure things done, you know like yours for the kiosk? Mum suggested we could get photos tonight as we’d have a full house with the coach coming, so here we are.”
“And here we are,” Con pointed out.
“Ah girls, you’re here,” Herr S mentioned somewhat needlessly as he came out of the Stube with a be-camera’d chap, goatee, glasses and one of those jacket things with all the pockets, “meet Kurt who’s doing our photography.”
“Er hi girls,” Kurt offered as he polished his glasses which made me giggle a bit.
“You are so bad Bond,” Con hissed in my ear.
“I can’t believe you three,” Pia huffed as we waited for our patrons to return from the cellar tour.
“What?”
“You know, flirting with Kurt.”
“Were not!”
“Oh come on Con,” P pouted.
“Maybe if you smiled a bit?” I suggested – well she’s had a right mog on since we got here.
“The usual for you guys?” I enquired of the bus crew.
“Please Gaby,” Nena, the courier, answered.
“So you guys go on holiday now the summer season’s over?” I posed.
“Ha, chance’d be a fine thing,” Dennis, the driver stated.
“If only,” Nena agreed, “hopefully we get a break in November.”
“November? Sheesh.”
“What about you? Back to school?”
“College, probably as well this is done.”
“I reckon we’ll be back next year, the passengers really like coming.”
“That’s cool, I should get on, the boss is waving at me, I’ll get your drinks.”
Apart from being somewhat overdressed the evening wasn’t much different to usual – well apart from Kurt and his cameras. Well not just Kurt but three of us were much in demand with the diners for more amateur photographic exploits. I didn’t get an opportunity to chat with Dennis and Nena, seems my presence was needed everywhere tonight.
By the time we finished posing for cheesy pictures it was well after our usual finish and the A Klasse was waiting.
“Thank you girls, I think that went really well,” Helmut advised.
“The rechnung will be in the post,” I suggested.
“I’ll miss doing this,” Mand noted.
“I’m thinking of doing some special themed evenings in the autumn if you’re up for that?” Herr S proposed.
“Subject to availability,” Mand agreed.
“What about you two?” Helmut enquired of me and Con.
“I guess.”
“Well its not like I have a social life,” Con lamented.
“We should go, Dad’s waiting for us.”
“I’ll let you know when I’ve got something organised, nite ladies.”
“Tschuss!”
“Abend!”
“Anyone up for Chinese?” Dad queried as we climbed into Mum’s team car.
“What’s the occasion Herr Bond?” Con asked.
“Nothing really, I just fancy some junk food.”
“Count me in,” Mand enthused.
“Good for me,” Thesing agreed.
“Gab?”
“Well I’m supposed to be eating healthily,” I pointed out.
“No Chow Mein for you then kiddo.”
“Pineapple fritters?” I suggested.
“Maybe just this once,” Pater told me.
And so an hour later the four of us were seated around our kitchen table, cartons of egg rice, noodles, black bean sauce, crispy duck and, and – well Dad got the ‘feast for four’ so there was more food than you could point a chopstick at! It was like a sort of belated celebration for Spain as well as end of season at the Stube – Dad even broke out a bottle of Helmut’s finest. Oh and I did get my pineapple fritters, the others had banana – topped with a good dollop of ice cream – perfection.
Maddy Bell © 09.07.2018
Of course there’s no rest for the wicked and so I clambered reluctantly from my nest at silly o’clock to start a new day of catering and cycling. Its the penultimate week of the BC / Apollinaris training camp, of course the original plans went out the window with BC’s change in emphasis, Dad and Caro somehow finding funding to honour the commitment made to all the guys.
So today they’ll come up to Altenahr, pick up me and Mand then we’ll do a biggish ride out through the Eifel. It seems like there’s a lot of endings in my life just now, last night it was the stuff at the Stube, next up the training camp but I guess stuff like college and Bern coming back will fill the gaps. Yeah I suppose there’s plenty of stuff coming along to fill the voids, lets face it, life would be boring if I had any spare time.
“What’s the occasion?” Con queried when she arrived with the bread order.
“Occasion?” I repeated as I fiddled with the till tray, I couldn’t get it to go back in the drawer.
“Gis it here,” she suggested, “your hair, you don’t usually do anything with it for work.”
I surrendered the tray to her and moved out of the way, “dunno, just thought I’d experiment a bit.”
To be honest it was Mand’s idea, its not that I’m against doing this stuff I’m just not very good at it. So anyway its in a pair of tightish braids across my head from front to back tied off with a couple of bobbles.
“Looks good, not sure I could pull it off, there, if you don’t get it quite straight it won’t go in,” she advised pushing the drawer closed.
“Thought it was something like that.”
“I’ll bring the Brotchen in, coffee?” she hinted.
This week’s pie is a fairly boring chicken and mushroom, simple but popular, thankfully Herr T has let up on some of his weirder pastry encased offerings. Some things should never be inside a pie, I mean, Bauernfrühstück? Really? Anyhow I plated up an example of piedom with a good helping of Pommes, I’d barely finished when the familiar putt, putt of a certain Mofa announced the recipients imminent arrival.
A couple of minutes later Max arrived at the window.
“Heya guys.”
“What do you want to drink?”
“Hi Max,” Con sniggered.
“Coffee?”
I presented him with his lunch, “go sit, I’ll be out in a mo.”
“Here,” Con handed him some cutlery, “you might need these.”
“Thanks Connie, guess I’ll go find a table then.”
“Gab, what are you doing?”
“Eh? Making Max’s coffee, why?”
“You were a bit off hand with him.”
“Was I?”
The coffee machine gurgled in punctuation.
“Yes you were, what's up girl, he said something?”
“Eh?”
“Here,” she placed the coffee on a tray with the neccessaries, “go eat.”
“Not so busy today,” Max opined waving his fork towards the vacant tables, “nice pie.”
“End of the holidays,” I suggested as I contemplated which Frite to steal.
“Don’t remind me, talking of which, how are you gonna get to college?”
I dived in for the chosen deep fried potato stick, “train I guess, why?”
“There’s a spare seat with us if you want.”
“Spare seat?”
“In Olaf’s car.”
“Olaf?”
“I did tell you, Freddies brother, he works in Koblenz, at the regional government, he’s taking me and Fred, there's a spare seat if you want it.”
“But I’m going to the business college not the humanities.”
“Dur, they’re nearly next to each other.”
“They are?”
“Well not next exactly but only a short way apart. So?”
“Eh?”
“Do you want to car share?”
Do I?
“erm, what does this Olaf think of the idea?”
“Well I’ve not actually asked him yet,” Max admitted, “but he’s taking me an’ Fred, he’s got a Polo, there’s room.”
“Maybe you should ask him?” I suggested.
“Yeah, I guess, but in theory are you up for it?”
Well, it would be quicker than two trains each way.
“In theory.”
“Cool, I’ll ask him later and let you know.”
“Okay.”
“So what's the occasion? You don’t normally do your hair that fancy for work.”
“Not you too, can’t a girl do anything round here?”
“Just saying,” Max suggested.
“Look, I just fancied doing something different alright.”
“Okay, okay, keep your hair on Gabs.”
“Not funny.”
He glanced at his wrist, “damn, look have to go, places to be.”
“Pooh to shovel,” I mentioned.
“She is paying me,” he pointed out.
“Think I’ll stick to the catering industry.”
He stuck the last of the Frites into his mouth, “’et oo ow ‘out ar ‘ater. ‘iss?”
If he thinks I’m doing tongues with a mouthful of chips he’s got another thing coming, I leaned over and pecked his cheek.
“’ater!”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Von Strechau was off like a shot, his Mofa was whining up the street before I got back to the cabin with the dirties.
“That looked a bit intense,” Lisse suggested.
“Didn’t know we were the entertainment, hi Lisse.”
“Well there’s not much else happening,” Kris opined.
“Whatever, so how come you’re here?”
“Mum wanted some stuff from Weissmann’s, thought I’d come and bother you guys for a bit.”
“’kay.”
Not being particularly busy – well not at all, having Lisse about at least opened up the conversation bit, conversation can get a bit flat when its just Con, Kris and me. And as she lives up in Ahrbrück there’s different gossip – not that we gossip of course but its useful to know what's going on, who’s doing what, with whom, if you know what I mean. We’re a bit like hairdressers in that aspect, people like to talk and its our ‘duty’ to contribute to the conversation – well that's my excuse and I’m sticking to it.
“Now I know somethings going on,” Con announced when I emerged from getting changed.
“Hmm?”
“Don’t you hmm me Bond, what’s his name?”
“Who’s name?”
“Whoever it is you’re trying to impress.”
“I’m not trying to impress anyone.”
“So the hair and now the makeup is just cos you fancy it, pull the other one Gab.”
“Its not what it looks like.”
“Oh? Do tell.”
“Well, the guys from Großbritannien go home after the weekend so we’re eating out after training, just thought I’d make a bit of effort.”
“Won’t you get all sweaty riding, you’ll look like a five year old in mums makeup.”
“Its the stuff we use for cheer, its all waterproof.”
“If you say so.”
I pushed her to one side so I could fill my bidon.
“Its a wonder you don’t wee for Germany the amount you drink.”
“Don’t want to get dehydrated.”
“Nothing worse,” Kris put in with a smirk.
“You can mock,” I huffed as the bottle filled.”
“Mock, mock!” my ‘friends’ chorused.
Usually Mand rides up and we both join the others in Altenahr so I was a bit surprised when a couple of minutes later she arrived along with the rest of the crew.
“Come on Gab,” Geth called over as they rolled past.
“Coming,” I jammed my helmet on and adjusted the fit.
“Be careful with all that slap on,” Kris chortled.
“Ha de har,” I replied before giving her a raspberry, “see you tomorrow.”
“Tschuss,” Con offered.
“Laters!” I replied as I clipped in and set off in pursuit of the others.
“So where’re we headed?” I enquired once i’d caught up.
“Gerolstein,” Josh told me.
“Gerolstein? That's like in the middle of nowhere.”
“Your point,” Gret queried, “everywhere round here is the middle of nowhere.”
She’s right of course, “just saying.”
Its a ride I’ve done a few times, about eighty K from the kiosk, its not particularly testing as you follow the Ahr most of the way before dropping down into the Kyllltal for the last bit. Of course at that distance its a one way ride, the others have ridden up from the yard at the bottling plant so they have an extra dozen or so kilometres already on the clock. We were quickly in a fairly close two abreast peloton riding steady piano, a comfortable thirtyish kph.
“Anyone heard about Canada?” I queried as we headed around Hönningen.
It was Tal who answered, “bit of a taboo subject girl.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Its not,” Jamie advised.
“Well?” I pushed. “who is going?”
“None of us lot,” Lor almost spat.
“None? How come?”
“We didn’t sign up for their ‘academy’ thing,” Daz supplied.
“So because you aren’t in their club you didn’t get picked, like no one?”
“Just about says it like,” Josh agreed.
None of the girls and not even Josh for the lads, talk about nose cutting off.
“Are they actually sending anyone?”
“Cav,” Geth told me, “that Bradley kid and some other lad I’ve never heard of.”
“Not heard of any of the girls,” Sal noted.
“You wouldn’t even have got in Gab,” Claire added.
“They’ve dropped Mum too,” I told them.
“Mand said,” Daz noted.
“After all that effort in Spain,” Mand moaned.
“Well there’s only one way to sort this.”
“And what's that hen?” Josh queried.
“Make them see the error of their ways,” I stated forcefully.
Maddy Bell © 13.07.2018
The mood was, quite reasonably, downbeat, I mean, you’d’ve expected at least a couple of these guys to make the cut for Canada, certainly Josh and Mand, probably with Claire and Lor. At least the German Federation have a clear policy, podium at the Nationals and you go, if the budget allows for a bigger squad they then look at your wider results. This BC closed shop is grossly unfair – especially after promising so much at the beginning of the season, i’d be well cheesed if I was still on a UK licence.
“What’re you up to Bond?” Tal queried as we started to trace the upper reaches of the Ahr above Schuld.
“Nothing.”
“I’ve seen that look before, come on spill.”
“Well, these guys are our friends right?”
“Yeah,” she cautiously allowed.
“And they’re good enough to go to Ontario yeah?”
“I guess.”
“So we need to show BC they are out of order not selecting them.”
“And just how do we, a bunch of Germans, do that prey?”
Well I guess I am to all intents German now, I live here, study here, have German citizenship, passport and boyfriend – yep guess that qualifies me.
“The Jungere race on Sunday.”
“Out in Bavaria?”
“Is it? Well anyway, we fix it that say Jamie wins, clearly beating us, then in Canada we make sure Cav and co fail miserably.”
“And just how do we do that?”
“Dunno, we’ve got two weeks to work that out.”
“So we throw our chances to get back at BC?”
“Who said anything about throwing our chances?”
“Saying I buy that, and this weekend, how do a couple of girls affect the boys race?”
“Reckon there’s a few people who’ll help out on that score.”
“How comes we aren’t doing any climbs?” I posed to our road captain, he of the Geordie persuasion.
“Sunday’s pretty much up an doon tha river like,” he advised, “so what’re ye plotting with Tali?”
“Er nothing.”
“Bond?”
“Oh alright, just talking about putting some noses out of joint back in Manchester.”
“An’ how you looking at doing that man?”
“Make, you lot look good this weekend and their lot look rubbish in Canada.”
“And just how’re you gonna do that?”
I tapped the side of my nose, “you’ll see, so where’re we meeting the bus?”
“Schwarz something, your Dad gave me directions like.”
“Not the Greek place?”
“Don’t think so hen,” he looked at his computer, “shite, we’ll have to up the pace a bit, we’re supposed to be there for six.”
I checked my own comp, ten to five and we’ve done like thirty eight kilometres, “but its still like forty K.”
“Aye, have to crank things up a bit I guess.”
It would be just like Dad to plan this, we’re already past the short cut at Ahrdorf and whilst there are a couple of other shorter routes across to the Kyllltal you don’t really gain much. Josh quickly had everyone organised in a rotation – not without a few grumbles about slave drivers! Our comfortable thirty K rose to a more businesslike forty, conversation stopped and it was pretty much full on race.
The Jünkerath road came up fairly quickly and the gentle climb up the river valley was replaced by a more taxing climb up to Ripsdorf. Of course our progress slowed somewhat but Josh kept the pressure on and we hung on as best we could. Geez, that mans a beast!
He finally pulled over once we were through the village, not that we could ease up much, just enough to get breath back before returning to the fray. The rolling road across the top allowed us to resume our rotation and even pick up a few kph on the downslopes. At Feusdorf you can cut the corner, save maybe two kilometres but its a narrow lane so we continued down the hill into Jünkerath itself.
“Left!” our leader called out as we crossed the river.
We swept through the roundabout only to find ourselves caught up in the late commuter traffic. Once out of the town we were able to resume our efforts, staying on the main road for several kilometres before taking the river tracing road to Oberbettingen. Back over the Kyll and onto Gerolsteinerstraße, not too far now.
“Last one to the top, cleans the bikes,” Josh suggested as we started the bump up into Bewingen.
“In your dreams Waugh!” I opined before flicking my gear paddle.
It doesn’t look much of a climb but after thirty K on the rivet it was hard going. One thing you can’t beat is gravity and even on rubber legs the Toon is about twenty kilos heavier than me. At the top the road is signed to the left for Gerolstein but I’ve been this way before so I went straight on.
“Gab! Wrong way!” Mand yelled.
I waved back at her but kept going.
“Where’s she off to?” Josh enquired as he came up to de Vreen.
“No idea,” Mand allowed.
“Don’t worry about her,” Gret mentioned, “she’ll find her way if there’s a danger of food.”
That got a few chuckles from the assembled mass.
“Come on then, Mr B’ll be waiting.”
Let them go the long way! I eased off the pedals a bit as the lane tilted down, my speed actually increasing a bit as I dropped into the back of Gerolstein. We’d been back in Jünkerath when I realised that we were headed for Schwarzbrennerei, a traditional German place that the Bond clan have stopped at a couple of times – has to be there if its not the Poseidon.
I followed gravity down into the Altstadt where I looped left towards my destination, no sign of the others. Well there wouldn’t be would there, if you follow the signs its about three K further so I’ve got at least, what, five minutes in hand. It seemed like a long way through the town but then I spotted the Hymer and beyond it the distinctive premises of the Schwarzbrennerei.
“Where’s the rest?” Dad asked as I collapsed over the handlebars.
“Went long way,” I gasped out.
“You were supposed to stay together.”
“Need a wee.”
Well I do, and I’ve not got a cork!
He sighed, “go on then, doors on the left by the bar.”
I dismounted and handed off my steed to Pater.
By the time I was finished with the facilities the others had arrived, clearly I wasn’t the only one needing to empty a bladder as I almost walked into Gret and Sal on my way out.
“Aaid she’d find her way,” Gret stated.
Back outside, mechanic Daz was loading bikes into the truck, Angela and Caro were distributing towels and shoe bags while Dad was debriefing Josh in the Hymer.
“Gaby,” Angela called over, “here, sandals.”
No not strappy heels, dur! they’re my apres bike footwear, like pool shoes.
“Cheers Angela, we changing to eat?”
“We’ve got tables outside so you don’t have to.”
“You kidding, I stink.”
“Well iId wait until you’ve ordered, the food might take a while, they’ve only got one chef on tonight.”
“’kay,” I agreed slipping my bike shoes off.
Well as I’m not cooking or paying I ordered Rehrücken, not really that extravagant in a region where venison is on a lot of menus. Back in England its considered a bit ‘Nobby’ still but its just, well ordinary here. Anyhow once that was sorted I slipped out to the camper to change.
Sitting around in sweaty, smelly bike gear is not nice, ladies might perspire but on a bike they perspire a lot! So anyway I did a quick flannel wash, donned knickers and BH then slipped a cotton sundress on. Soo much better, quick squirt of something pleasant smelly and I was fit for mixed company.
Of course, whilst some of our number were happy to moulder in smelly stuff, no names, no pack drill as Gran says, when I returned somewhat fresher there was an avalanche of movement to the facilities (the lads) and the Hymer (the delicate flowers of womanhood). By the time everyone was back around our table, drinks were on the table along with a quantity of pre meal bread.
As I sat munching on my second bit of bread it occurred to me that this could be the last time we’ll all be together. We’ve been riding, travelling, yes eating together on and off all summer, if we didn’t know each others foibles before we certainly do now. But in the next few days that’ll all end, oh I’m sure we’ll all remain friends but the moment will have ended.
“Hey Gab, pass the butter,” Manda demanded.
“Eh? Oh right, here you go,” I passed the dish across the table.
“You were miles away Gabs,” Sal observed.
“Just thinking.”
“That’s dangerous, Bond thinking,” Geth joked.
Yeah, we really do know each other well.
“Very funny boyyo!”
“So what took you to gaga land then?” Lor asked.
“Nothing really, well this I guess, you know being a team and all that.”
“I know what you mean,” Claire agreed, “I’m gonna miss all this.”
“Its not over until the fat lady sings,” Mand suggested.
“Better not start warbling then Gab,” Daz opined, ducking to avoid my girly slap.
“I am not fat!”
“Or a lady,” Gret snorted.
“Why you!” I pulled a bit of bread off and threw it at my accuser.
So of course Caro saw the cast.
“Gabrielle Bond!”
“Er sorry Caro but she said...”
“I don’t care, if you want to be treated like a small child it can be arranged.”
There was some sniggering from around the table.
“And the same goes for the rest of you,” she went on, “now behave.”
It wasn’t a party of course but it sort of felt like one, the end of year school disco sort of party. Clearly I wasn’t the only one with similar thoughts, even the usually boisterous banter of the lads was more restrained. But as Mand so succinctly put it, its not over yet, a wrong has to be at least partly righted.
The food was okay, the venison maybe a bit gamey, the potato a bit too ‘wet’, the gravy a bit rich but I’m not even sure all that is true or if my melancholy was affecting my taste buds. It was after nine when we loaded up to head back to the Rhein and our various beds, a mostly Autobahn route for the Neuwied lot, a slower ride retracing much of our outward route for the Dernau contingent.
“What were you cooking up with Tali earlier?” Mand asked watching me make the cocoa.
“Eh?”
“Earlier, you and Tal were having a right chinwag.”
“Oh that, just stuff, you know.”
“You aren’t usually that chummy with her.”
“We were talking about Ontario if you must know.”
“Oh right,” she allowed with a distinct slump in her tone.
“We didn’t want to rub anyone's noses in things,” I suggested.
“Its okay, its not your fault,” she sighed, the dissapointment clear in her voice.
“I’ll bring you back a stuffed Mountie or something.”
“Don’t be so daft,” she spluttered, “you’d never get one in your bag.”
The mood was lightened but only temporarily, no whoever’s responsible for dashing my friends ambitions has got it coming, they’re not gonna get away with just dumping everyone who doesn’t toe their line. No one messes with Gaby Bond!
Maddy Bell © 13.07.2018
“You got a race this week Gab’s?” Con asked as I loaded yet more Pommes into the fryer baskets – we’ve been surprisingly busy this morning, a bunch of Dutch trekkers early doors then this lot, a coach load of retirees from Frankfurt way out for the day.
“Er yeah, Sunday,” I confirmed before lowering the Frites into the hot oil.
“Cool, so you can work tomorrow?”
Well I wasn’t planning on it but I do owe her, “guess so, take it you have something to do?”
“Its the induction for my course.”
“On a Saturday?”
“There were like three days, I thought tomorrow would be easiest to get cover for.”
“So you have to get to Mayen?”
Con’s doing some sort of child care / teaching thing at the college in Mayen – three trains or a train and bus ride each way. I guess that’s what we get for living in the middle of nowhere, if you want to specialise at all you have to travel. The rest of the Angels are going to the college in Bad Neuenahr to do more general courses, why I allowed myself to be conned into the course in Koblenz.
“Uh huh, Mum’s gonna drive me over, we’ll drop the bread off then go over the Ring.“
“Which reminds me, I wonder if Max has asked about me getting a lift to Koblenz?”
“Lift?”
“Well you know he’s going to the technical college with Freddy?”
“It has been mentioned,” Con agreed.
“Well Freddy’s brother works at the Landesrat down by the river so he’s gonna take them down each day, there might be a seat for me.”
“That’d be handy, what about getting back?”
“Not got that far, train I guess.”
“You could use your Rad,” she suggested with a chuckle.
“Its fifty kilometres,” I pointed out.
“I bet you rode that far yesterday,” she pointed out.
“That’s different, that was on a race bike.”
“And?”
hmm, maybe she has something there, I could go down on the train and ride back for training.
“Might work I suppose.”
“Looking forward to it?”
“Like a visit to the dentist!”
“I know what you mean, I guess I’ll at least meet some people tomorrow, do you have induction for your course?”
“I missed it while I was in Spain last week, I’ve got to go next week to pick up my ID and stuff – bum, I’ve got that show thing next week too, sorry Con, I’ll make it up.”
“Don’t sweat it Gab, you’ll be here next weekend right?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, a weekend off before we go to Canada – something else I need to sort at college next week.
“So what day you going to Koblenz?”
“Monday?”
“Reckon me and Kris can cope, the show is Wednesday?”
“Uh huh, I think Gloria wants to make a day of it, go for lunch or something.”
“How the other half live,” Con observed, “I’ll get Nen to come in to cover.”
“Those Pommes ready yet?” Kris enquired poking her head through the window, not literally, its the serving hatch!
“Two minutes,” I suggested after a look into the oil.
We had a bit of a lull after the Oma and Opa group departed, a chance to get everything cleared up before the lunch crowd arrive at least. Our empire isn’t huge but even so clearing tables, tidying stuff up and so on quickly slips when we’re busy so it was all hands to the pumps to catch up. You wouldn’t believe how mucky people can be, or perhaps you can, spilling drinks, dropping food, leaving litter, well somebody has to sort it and that's us.
We were still straightening things up when my favourite stable boy put putted up to Connie’s Kabin.
“You guys look busy.”
“Coachload of oldies,” I supplied, “can you move that table back pretty please?”
Well cast iron tables are heavy and we’re only weak girlies.
“I’ll have Jägerschnitzel please.”
“Whatever,” I sighed – well its a small price to pay and I made a batch of sauce on Wednesday anyhow.
A few minutes later I sat down opposite Max.
“Ish good,” he advised around a mouthful of his lunch, “’ll miss this.”
“You don’t need to spray it!” I suggested before wiping a glob of newly arrived sauce off my arm.
He wiped his own mouth, “soz Gab.”
“Hmm.”
“Oh I spoke to Olaf last night, he’s okay you riding down with us.”
“Really? that’s so cool!”
I jumped up and went round to envelope him in a hug.
“its not me you need to thank, its Olaf,” he pointed, “not that I’m complaining.”
I released my grip, “well you can pass it on for me, well maybe not the hug, so does he want money for petrol or something?” When I mentioned it to Dad last night he suggested I should at least offer if he agreed to taking me.
“Nope, its all sorted, it might not be every day but he’ll tell us in advance if he can’t take us, we might have to train it home though.”
“I’ve got my BahnCard.”
“Might have to get one I suppose.”
I stole a Frite as I returned to my seat, “your Mum said anything about next week?”
“Next week?”
“We’re going to some fashion show thing?” I hinted.
“Not said anything, I’ll tell her you asked.”
“’kay.”
“You doing anything later?”
“Only Garde, wotcha got in mind?”
I know what I’ve got in mind.
“Could pick you up, go up the hill?”
“Have to be quite quick, I’m making tea tonight, oh I know, if you can take me to Garde you could stay for tea?”
“What’s for tea?”
“Not decided yet.”
“Hmm, I dunno Gab, all the way back up here and what about your Dad? You know what he’s like with the Mofa.”
“Leave him to me, he’ll be happy to not have to go out himself.”
“I suppose I could, five?” he proposed.
“Done!”
“You’re looking pleased with yourself,” Con opined when I returned to the kiosk, “what’re you plotting now?”
“Nothing.”
“Like I believe that.”
“Just organising some Max time.”
“Might’ve guessed, so you getting that lift?”
“Looks like it.”
“He doesn’t want to go via Mayen does he?”
“Somehow I don’t think that's gonna happen Con.”
“Yeah I know,” she sighed.
“Maybe there’ll be someone else from the valley you can go with?” I suggested.
“Yeah, maybe.”
“It’ll be alright Con, its gonna be well weird not being with the others but its not like we’re moving away, we’ll still see them and do stuff.”
“You sound like Papa.”
I rolled my eyes.
“No, you’re right, if I want to go into teaching I need to do this, get my certifiicates.”
“More bits of paper,” I lamented.
“Says the star student of the Rheinland.”
“Dunno how that happened, I reckon they mixed me up with someone else.”
“I suppose so, no way could a blonde get those scores.”
“Huh! I’ll have you know not all blondes are stupid!”
Her face cracked and she started a bout of hysterics.
“Why you!”
“Your face Gab.”
“What’s so funny?” Kris asked coming in to the middle of the exchange.
“Just winding Gabs up a bit,” Con managed as she got her giggling under control.
“Ready?” Max asked over his shoulder.
"Just a sec,” I fiddled with the helmet buckle, “okay.”
“Hang on tight!”
I grabbed him around the waist just in time for the jolt into forward movement. Well okay a Mofa isn’t exactly powerful, about twenty K top speed, somewhat less with a passenger, even if she does only weigh forty eight kilos wet through. So whilst I ride a bike quicker a lot of the time, it just feels so much faster when you are perched sideways hanging onto your boyfriend with the little motor whining away below the seat.
Kris was already nearly at her place down near the tunnel when we caught up to her.
Beep, beep!
“See you tomorrow!” I called across to her with a wave.
“Don’t fall off,” she called back as we putted towards the dark maw of the tunnel.
In reality I could’ve ridden down quicker if I’d got a bike at the Kabin but I didn’t and I’ll take a ride over the train if there's that option. And one big advantage over the public transport is that we ‘whizzed’ straight around to the fitness track, getting there about twenty minutes after leaving Altenahr. I really should take the rents up on getting my own motorised wheels, or maybe sort out something with Jules to use hers when she’s not at home.
“Come on,” I chivvied, “we’ve only got half an hour.”
“In that case shorty.”
I squealed in surprise as I suddenly found myself launched into the air to land over someones shoulder.
“Max! Put me down!”
“Not yet slow poke,” he replied loping up the trail, “and stop waving your legs about.”
“When you put me down.”
“Not happening!”
Sometimes I hate being so small, well okay, a lot of the time but especially when stuff like this happens.
“Give over,” Max complained again, “oh hi Frau Holdorf.”
‘Wroof!’
“Nice day Frau Holdorf, hi Fritzy!” I added as we passed the busybody and her hound.
‘Strechau, Bond!”
‘Wroof!’
Oh well, I guess our latest indiscretion will be around Dernau before the sun has set on the day. I couldn’t stop the giggle such a thought set off.
Maddy Bell © 16.07.2018
‘You are a stupid moo, Maddy Peters!’ it wasn’t exactly the first time she’d had those thoughts over the last few hours, it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
“I am so not getting another tattoo!”
“Okay, okay, forget I mentioned it,” James told his girlfriend.
“And if you think I’m sleeping with you this weekend, forget it,” I spat.
Not of course that I’m supposed to be sharing with him anyhow, Mum’d go ballistic if she knew, no I’m supposed to be in with Shelle, Robert, her BF, gets the other boy bed. Well that's what the ‘rents think anyway. And the cause of this argument? Well it was a bit of a lark really, when we went to Mancon after Easter there was this party, well cool and – well I ended up getting a Star Trek badge tattooed on my boob.
I know, pretty stupid, but I thought it looked the biz and who was gonna see it? Mum was who, she went ballistic with a capital B. I got grounded, not that it made much difference as it was exam season so like everyone was revising for GCSE’s anyhow. And then he suggests I get another one, I might be blonde but I’m not stupid and I do want to see Christmas – which I won’t if I go home with another tattoo.
“But?”
“Don’t you touch me!”
He pulled his arm back in shock at my vehemence.
“Mad, I get it, can’t we just, you know, make up?”
Its not the first time we’ve fallen out of course, well what couple doesn’t argue? But this time, well I just felt like, I dunno, hitting him or something. The train slowed right up, the brakes screeching loudly as we came to a halt in Scarborough. I jumped up and leaving the others to sort out the bags stormed off the train and down the platform.
“Mad! Hang on!”
I ignored Shelle’s plea and pushed through the other passengers and out of the station. Not that I’d got a clue where I was going but right now anywhere without James in it was favourite. There was a sign at the end of the road, ‘to the beach’, well it is a seaside resort and beaches are good for being alone so I went that way.
Not that I got to the beach, as I got distracted by a bus, the 13 going to Brid.
“How long to Brid?”
“Just over an hour love.”
“Is there one back later?”
“Aye lass, every hour, last one from Brid’s at ten fifteen.”
Well I’d be away from the others for a good couple of hours and still be back reasonable.
“Can I get a return please?”
Having snagged one of the front seats I settled myself in for the ride down the coast. I checked my phone, one message from Shelle, three from James, ‘where are you?’ being the general drift of course. Well if they think I’m falling for that one, I turned it off without replying and dug my emergency chocolate out of my bag.
It was quarter to two when I got off in the middle of Bridlington, thirty minutes before the bus goes back up to Scarborough. The temperature was warm enough to lose my cardi, the earlier cloud having been replaced by blue skies, I put my hair into a pony too, much better. I came with the ‘rents last year, there’s a load of cafes just round the corner, I can get a plate of chips or something before going back, yep, seems like a good plan.
I got round to the bus stop in plenty of time which is where things started to go wrong. I had a quite sudden and urgent need for the loo, plenty of time, there are some just around the corner. Except they were closed and by now I was doing the toilet shuffle, think Mad, think!
When the woman got out of the camper and departed without locking the door the solution was obvious, campers have a toilet right? I shuffled over, tried the door, yes, and climbed inside pulling the door shut behind me. Two wardrobes later I found the lav and gratefully made use of the facility, I checked my watch, yep I’ve still got five minutes to get back to the bus stop.
I was just about to open the door when I heard voices approaching outside followed by a key in the lock. Bum! I made a dive for the toilet and pulled the door too, just in time to hear those same voices climbing inside, not English, maybe Dutch or something. By the time the engine started any chance of escape was gone, maybe I should’ve just opened the door and made a run for it but I just sat tight.
They have to stop some time right, a campsite or something, I can get out then and figure a way back to Scarborough. Have you ever tried to sit on a toilet in a camper that's moving? And not make any noise? Let me tell you, its not easy, you’re bouncing all over the place, there’s nothing to hold onto and a wash bag kept hitting me in the face.
Eventually ‘we’ did come to a halt but far from getting out my ‘hosts’ stayed sat in the cab talking – why aren’t they getting out? I checked my watch, four thirty, well I can still get back to the others before its too late, we can’t be that far from Brid, I can get a taxi back into town. Yeah, sounds like a plan.
We shuffled forward before there was a short conversation with someone else – must’ve been waiting to get on the site I guess. Then we drove on, quite steadily a couple of bumps – speed humps I guess then we tilted first steeply down then nearly the same up. The engine noise seemed to get louder and more echoey and a minute or two later we stopped and the engine was cut again.
The owners had a short conversation then left the camper, phew, give them a few minutes and I’ll make my exit. Guess I’d best let James know I’m okay, I turned on the light and pulled out my phone, bum, no signal, well it’ll wait. There were more vehicle noises outside, some shouting and then silence – well except for a sort of deep rumbling.
I crept out of the lav and headed for the door – which was locked. Of course it is, front doors, I headed up to the cab and tried the – oh bum, no doors, Gaby said something like that about their new campervan, you get in at the side. I headed back to the door and tried it again – locked solid, must be some sort of deadlock.
It was only then I actually looked outside, to be confronted by what looked like the side of a lorry. What is this place? I checked the other windows, similar views, in front we were pulled up very close to another big camper, this is no campsite, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
My fears were confirmed a couple of hours later, the steady rumbling intensified and I sensed we were moving. ‘You stupid moo, Maddy Peters!’ Yup, I’m locked inside a campervan in the bowels of a ferry heading across the North Sea. I tried shouting, banging on the windows, even the vans horn but there was no one about, why would there be?
What now? I don’t know where the ferry’s going, how long it takes to get there or exactly how I get out of this fix. I only wanted to spend a penny and now I’ve become an unwitting stowaway to foreign parts. Its all James’ fault, if he hadn’t started on about me getting another tattoo I wouldn’t have gone off in a huff, I wouldn’t’ve caught the bus to Brid and I wouldn’t have climbed in here for a wee.
Okay so I might have over reacted just a little bit but I don’t like being manipulated. Its not like we’re talking a big tat, or something nasty and I’m not even totally against the idea but if I get more ink it’ll be my choice to do so. But this isn’t helping things.
A growling stomach highlighted one issue, I’ve not eaten since the chips in Brid, well obviously, and at most there’s a packet of gum in my bag. But this is a camper van which means… a quick search of the cupboards wasn’t particularly fruitful, some of that rubbery black bread stuff, a tub of something called ‘Fleischsalat’ and a packet of biscuit things. I guess they’re heading home then.
There were a couple of tins of stuff too but a) I’m not sure what was in them and b) when I tried the stove it lit but almost immediately fizzled out. Looks like the bread stuff I guess, could be worse at least there is some food and I do have access to a loo. Apparently ‘Fleischsalat’ isn’t really salad at all but bits of luncheon meat in some sort of mayonnaise stuff – it almost made the bread stuff edible.
I woke to a lot of banging, shouting and a change to the constant rumbling. In a panic I sat up, dropping straight back down as I spotted a hard hat wearing head outside the window. My heart was thumping nineteen to the dozen, geez that was close. After a minute of getting myself under control I slowly eased myself back up, the hard hat was gone, phew!
But if there are people down here – bum! I quickly tidied things up, put everything back where I’d found it before hiding back in the loo. I checked my watch, five o’clock, urgh, wrong end of the day.
It was best part of two hours later that I heard the door opening and the bodies and their voices climbed into the van. My heart was in my mouth, will I be discovered? What then? But a few moments later the engine started and we started to move.
The camper had clanged off the boat, the echoing noise disappearing as we moved slowly through, I’m guessing the docks. There was a brief stop, an exchange of foreign and then we seemed to make a few turns before picking up more speed. Now I just need to wait for them to stop and I can make my escape.
Mad, you are a dummy! Why did you hide from that guy on the boat? What was I thinking, this whole nightmare could’ve been over – well at least I wouldn’t be sat in a tiny toilet cubicle in a camper heading for who knows where. I bet they’re looking for me back in Scarborough, hang on, phone, I should be able to get a signal now we’re off the ferry.
A dig around my bag, of course it had migrated to the bottom but excitedly I flipped it open and turned it on. Hmm, have to charge it soon good job I packed my charger...in my case, sugar. It started doing that signal search thing, come on, there must be one, they do have mobiles over here, Gab is surgically attached to hers, please, please.
‘Unable to connect’, bum, bum, bum. Well I guess I can try again in a bit.
I guess we were on a motorway now, we seemed to be travelling at a steady speed, the van swaying around a bit each time we passed what I assume was a truck. Somehow I wedged myself into the corner and dozed off only waking as we bounced over some sort of ramp. Is this my chance to get off the bus so to speak?
Apparently not, even through the door I could identify the pong of diesel and whilst they both got down the door stayed open. A check of my time piece revealed ‘we’ve’ been driving for a couple of hours, if I didn’t know where I was before, I certainly don’t have a clue now. Gab would know, lets face it her family are gadding about all over the place – Aunt Jen was always on my case about being so bad at geography – she was our teacher so I suppose it was her job, maybe I should’ve paid more attention.
Anyhow, that's no help now, I could be anywhere. The camper bounced a bit as, I presume the woman, climbed back aboard bringing a waft of fresh coffee with her. A moment later the door slammed shut, the engine started and we were moving again, don’t these people make proper stops?
My phone continued to not get a signal but of course each attempt used more precious battery, it was down to less than half now. According to my watch its after eleven, hopefully they’ll stop for lunch soon, I really should’ve nicked some of those biscuits, its like over twelve hours since I had that meat stuff and I really am getting hungry now.
Several times it’s seemed like we were going to stop again, slowing, turning through bends but each time we kept moving, presumably we just changed roads. This time however we were down to what felt like a crawl, some conversation went on at the front before we finally came to a halt. My hosts departed, I waited a couple of minutes before easing the door open and finally exited the cramped toilet space.
Phew, I stretched cramped muscles then reality kicked in, I need to get out of here like pronto. However I did pause a moment to grab a couple of biscuit bars and seeing a couple of those euro notes on the seat I’d slept on, scooped them up before checking the door and yes, they hadn’t locked the door. As I got down I could hear someone approaching on the other side of the camper, I quickly closed the door and scampered into the bushes.
Well I’m out of the camper, where I am is a mystery but I’ve got time to think about my next move. I watched as the bloke who I presume has been my chauffeur checked the door, mumbled something to himself as he locked it and went off again. What now, I need to get home somehow, I need to contact someone to let them know where I am.
I straightened myself out a bit and boldly joined the travellers heading into the services, a place called ‘Aachener Hof’. Still not having a clue where I am I headed towards the toilets, yeah I know I’ve been sat on one for goodness knows how long but I could do with a wash and sort out my makeup a bit. I was thwarted by a barrier, they want fifty cents to use the facilities and all I’ve got are the purloined notes.
Okay, Mad, think, food then toilet, I can get some change that way and stop my stomach rumbling. I pulled out the notes, two twenties and a five, not a fortune but I can at least feed myself. This place is nothing like the services back in England, no shops as such, no chicken or burger outlets, instead there’s a sort of self service restaurant, I picked up a tray and headed in.
I didn’t even recognise half the stuff on offer but I spotted a tray of those flat breadcrumbed things Gab made last year when she stopped, schnitzel, that's it. Which probably means I’m in Germany, sugar! The server just loaded a plate up when I pointed to the schnitzel, chips and some sort of sauce added to the meat, add a glass of Pepsi Max® and go to the till, job done.
There was still no phone connection but that was the least of my worries. But what should I do now, the camper was gone, and to be honest stowing away again isn’t exactly a very good strategy. First is find out where I am, there’s one of those ‘you are here’ things outside, maybe I can get a bus or something back to the ferry port.
According to the map I’m just in Germany about a centimetre from Köln, a bit more from Bonn – that's not far from the Bond’s, the coast is a lot further away. Hmm, if I can get to my cousins they’ll help me get home but how do I get there? If my flippin’ phone worked I could just ring Gabs, probably Uncle Dave would come to fetch me.
If. Well I guess the first thing is to get away from the motorway, I’d already spotted a road behind the services so I followed the service road that looped out to join the lane. Now what? A bus made its way up road and signalled to stop pretty much opposite where I stood, it said ‘Stolberg’ on the blind, has to be a town right?
I tried to remember some of the German Gab tried to teach me, “Stolberg bitter.”
“Mitte?” the driver asked.
No idea what that is, in for a penny, “Yar.”
He played with the ticket machine, “Zwei vierzig bitte.”
I have no idea what that is, I gave him the ten from my purse and received a pile of change and a ticket. He set off as I found a seat, yesterday it was a Yorkshire bus, today a German one, the old woman opposite smiled at me, I gave one back, I’ll be in trouble if she wants to talk!
Maddy Bell © 04.06.2018
“So what am I supposed to do?” Mand demanded.
“Soz,” I allowed, okay I forgot that we were supposed to be riding this morning, I checked the time, “tell you what, get yourself ready if we leave in like the next fifteen minutes we can do a quick couple of hours, I’ll drop off at the cabin, job done.”
Mand hustled back upstairs allowing me to make a deep sigh.
“You okay kiddo?” Dad enquired arriving from the garage level.
“Yeah, suppose so, sort of doublebooked myself.”
He raised a brow,” oh?”
“Well Con’s going to some college thing and I said I’d do the kiosk, I forgot all about going out with Mand, I feel like a right card.”
“Sorted?”
“Yeah, think so, gonna go up over Rammersbach then I’ll drop off at work.”
“You got clothes up there?”
“Sugar! Er Da-ad?”
“Gabee.”
“You think you could take my stuff up for me, maybe take the bread in?”
“Go on, put your bag on the table before you go.”
“Yes!”
It was one of those mornings, you know the ones, verging on miserable but you know that later its gonna be a right scorcher. The last few days haven’t been cold but nor have they been silly warm like it was in Spain, rather a comfortable low to mid twenties with a light breeze. But today, well the pressure’s up and the breeze has dropped to nearly nothing and although its not too warm it is quite humid.
We slipped down Marienthaler without seeing any traffic at all, going as far as the Roman villa before turning off to go past my old school. A quick flick through the lanes of the Altstadt and we were across the river and on Ramersbacher Straße, climbing almost immediately out of Ahrweiler. We hadn’t said more than a couple of words from setting off, me deep in thought, Mand I think trying to get her head around being out on the bike before seven o’clock.
“So what time did you get home last night?” my riding partner queried as we settled into a steady rhythm.
“Not late.”
“You weren’t in when I went to bed at ten.”
“Must’ve been just after,” I suggested,
“Just after what, twelve?”
“No,” I replied quite sharply.
“Touchy.”
“It was just after eleven I think, Dad was still up.”
“You think he’d go to bed with you still out?”
“Why not?”
“Really? Sometimes Bond,” she allowed with a shake of the head.
Conversation ceased as we rode up the steeper bit through the last few houses.
“We got a plan for tomorrow then?”
“Hmm?”
“The race, this river race thing.”
“Oh that.”
“There's something else going on?”
“No, no.”
“You were thinking about Max again, you had that wet sloppy look on your face.”
“Actually clever clogs, I was thinking about the look on Steve and Chris’s faces when their plans fall to bits.”
“That’ll be a bundle of laughs,” Mand mirthlessly replied, “and what if they don’t, what if Cav wins in Canada?”
“Not a chance,” I boldly predicted.
“He won last year,” she pointed out.
“With Josh doing most of the work and everyone’ll be watching him this time,” I smirked.
“I guess.”
“And after tomorrow they’ll have egg on their faces.”
“How so?”
“You’ll see.”
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing,” I airily allowed.
We took it steady up to Ramersbach, its just a leg stretch after all, only turning the screws up a bit on the last stretch up to the top. Mand matched me pedal stoke to pedal stroke up through the hairpins and past the Blasweiler turn. Instead of watching de Vreen I just played to my own plan which is how she got the drop on me and left me trailing over the summit.
“Gotcha!” she crowed.
“Wasn’t trying,” I puffed as we started the descent.
“Doesn’t look like it much,” she noted pulling her bidon free for a drink.
“Believe what you want,” I suggested before taking a glug from my own bottle.
“What’re you gonna do if BC stick to their plan?” I asked as we rolled lazily towards Niederheckenbach.
“Dunno,” Mand admitted, “I suppose the worlds aren’t everything.”
“Yeah but they won’t select you or any of the others for anything.”
“Its alright making a stand while we’re here in Germany Gab but I reckon the others will sign up with BC when they go back.”
“What about you?”
“Got to be kidding, the track’s okay for a bit of fun but its not really for me.”
“You aren’t gonna stop riding?”
“’Be daft girl! Your dad says I can stay on if I want.”
“I thought BC have been sponsoring you?”
“They have, it runs out in December, there’s time to sort stuff,” she shrugged.
We got caught behind a horsebox in Staffel which reminded me.
“Bernie’s coming next week.”
“Your friend from where you used to live?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “can’t wait to see Drea again, bet she’s grown.”
“Babies do.”
“I know, guess I’ll get to see a lot more of her now though.”
“How comes?”
“They’re coming to stay.”
“For how long, where’re they staying?”
“For ever.”
“They’re coming to stay for good?”
“Uh huh, they’re gonna live with Marty and his parents up here at the farm.”
“That's brave, not sure I could do that.”
“Says the girl who’s been here for nearly a year.”
“Yeah but I can go back.”
“So can Bern, its not like she’s been thrown out or anything – and she was here for a few months last year.”
“Even so, its a big thing with a baby as well.”
Of course Mand doesn’t know all the back story and I’m not gonna tell her.
“Think her and Mart are pretty tight and she likes it here.”
We dropped through Kesseling, thankfully the sawmill doesn’t work weekends so we didn’t have to dodge the timber trucks down to Ahrbrück, just a tractor or two and Herr Preiser in his battered pickup. Once back into the Ahrtal we wound things up a bit, it might be a steady ride but you have to have a bash at the end. Oh and I need revenge for the summit.
We had a good head of steam going by the time we turned into Altenburg where we hit a goodly breeze blowing across from the campsite. I was more attentive this time, you can’t sprint for the name board as its at the level crossing so its the departure sign from Altenburg just before the campground turn in. As we came towards the garage I checked behind for traffic before flicking left to get the jump on Manda.
It was a bit of a drag race into the wind then with about fifty to go the crossing bells started clanging, lights flashing and gates dropping. The distraction was enough to have me ease off a tiny bit, but not distract de Vreen who drew level. I pushed harder again but I’d lost the momentum and the sprint with it, I sat up with ten to go already well beaten, bum!
Or not, if it comes to a sprint tomorrow it won’t look too obvious if I throw it, go a bit early then ‘run out of steam’ before the line. But that's a last resort, hopefully things will be settled before that, just need to have a word with Josh in the morning. Yeah BC, you don’t know who you’re up against, a Bond scorned is a Bond annoyed or something like that – look I’m not brilliant at English.
The crossing reopened and we led the bit of traffic across the line and around to the Bahnhof.
“You stopping for a coffee?” I offered as we waited to cross to the kiosk.
“Go on then, thought you were opening up?”
“Dad brought the keys up so Kris could get in if we were late.”
“Talking of which, hi Kristin, boss, good ride?”
“Not bad,” I shrugged, “where’s Dad?”
“Towing Con and her mum to the garage.”
“Didn’t see them,” I noted, “the one past the camping?”
“No the tyre place up on Roßberg, you know, next to the Shell.”
“He coming back?”
“Dunno,” Kris shrugged, “you getting changed?”
In fact it was only a few minutes later that Dad returned.
“You get them sorted out?” I enquired.
“Well I got them to the garage, the handbrake was stuck on.”
“How’s that happen?”
“No idea, I do bikes not cars.”
"I hope Con gets to Mayen okay.”
“I did offer to take them,” Dad advised, “Therese was hoping her brother would take them, he only lives up the road a bit.”
“You riding home?” Dad asked forty minutes later as Mand set off back down to Dernau.
“I guess so, I’m not cooking tonight am I?”
You could see the cogs working, “okay, we’ll eat at The Anker then.”
“I can’t go in these,” I wailed.
He sighed, “I’ll get Mand to bring you something up.”
“I’ll ring her later.”
“Whatever, I’ll take your bike now, have a good day, thanks for the coffee Kristin.”
“No problem Herr Bond.”
I rolled my eyes, its coming to something when your girl friends start flirting with your Father.
“He is, literally, old enough to be your father.”
“What?”
“Dad, he is like old and married to my Mum.”
“What’re you on about Gab?”
I was going to explain but to be honest, life’s too short.
“Nothing, you want to put the condiments out?”
Maddy Bell © 16.07.2018
It wasn’t a long bus ride to this Stolberg place, during which I recounted my funds, thirty two euros and some shrapnel. At this rate that's not going to last very long, I really need a plan, urgh, you really are a stupid moo Madeline. The bus pulled up at what I guess is ‘Mitte’, a sort of bus station in the town centre, I guess the clue was that the driver turned the engine off.
I followed the other passengers off and after a short debate with myself, crossed the road into what seemed to be the main shopping street. But what now? How do I get to the Bond’s, well I guess it would help if I actually knew where I was, I spotted what looked like a book shop, well they have maps right? I found the right department without too much issue to be confronted with more cartography than I thought could exist.
“Kann ich Hilfe?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin.
“Tut mir leid, Entschuldingen!”
The girl seemed to be apologising, I managed a thin smile.
“Okay?”
“Er yes, I mean yar.”
“English?”
Thank heavens, “er yes,” I agreed.
“You are looking for a Karte?”
Just when you think you have it cracked, “erm?”
“Sorry, a map?” she indicated the shelves I was stood at.
“Er yes.”
“For the area? or Ausland?”
“Um, not quite sure, maybe with Cologne and Bonn?” well its in the right direction.
If she thought my vagueness was strange she didn’t say anything.
“So, here we have the local area,” she pointed to one end of the section, “Aachen, the Eifel, Rheinland, Ardenne, Belgie, Nederland.”
“Er thanks.”
“No problem,” she smiled before heading off on some other errand or other.
Well at least I had a clue now, I skimmed past the town plan type things and found what looked like a more regional map. Least ways it had Bonn and ‘Köln’ on the little diagram so I pulled it out to have a look. It took me a minute to find Stolberg, now where are the Bond’s?
I found a name I recognised from Gab’s missives, Remagen, if I head there I’ll be quite close. Question is how? There’s obviously public transport, trains and buses but I’ve not exactly got a lot of money at my disposal. The map would be useful but would make a big hole in my resources, I scribbled a few names down, a sort of route across to this Remagen place then slipped out of the store while the assistant was serving someone else.
But now what, according to the clock on the church its already half four, I checked my phone, three thirty, huh? Then it dawned on me, they’re an hour in front of us in the UK, have to remember that. Not helping me get there though.
A bakery gobbled a couple more euros for a big cake thing and another cup of coffee, hopefully i’ll get to the bonds later this evening. Back outside I spotted the first link in my onward journey, another bus with a destination of ‘DÜREN’, a name I recognised from my map list. Once on board I settled into a seat down at the back, a bit happier now that I’m heading in the right direction to end this nightmare.
It was several more minutes before the bus set off, its one of those bendy ones so quite big, even so there were people stood and the seat next to me occupied by the time we’d made a couple of stops. As we moved out of the built up area, the numbers dropped and I was able to spread out again. At which point my phone started beeping.
I fumbled it out of my bag, I’ve got a signal! No I haven’t, its just telling me its nearly out of power, bum! Well, given I can’t get a signal I might as well turn it off I guess, I hit the power button and put it back in my bag.
“She’s still not answering,” Shelle pointlessly told James and Rob, closing her phone.
They were waiting for the ‘full English’ promised by their host at the ‘Balmoral’ b&b, Maddy knew where they were staying so they hadn’t been too bothered when she went off. Alarm bells should’ve rung when she hadn’t turned up by ten but she was obviously having an extended sulk.
“Bet she’s gone home,” Rob opined.
“Why’d she do that?” James queried.
“Because you wound her up with the tattoo stuff?” Shelle suggested.
“I thought she’d be all for it.”
“After the grief she got from her olds last time? Really?”
He shrugged, “it was only a suggestion.”
“You don’t think she’s preggers?” Rob offerred.
“Don’t be daft!”
“Well you guys are at it like rabbits all the time.” Shelle agreed.
“She is on the pill.”
Shelle gave him a look.
“She is right? I’ve seen them,” James paled, “has she said anything?”
“Just saying,” she stated with a rise of her brows.
“She’ll be at home,” Rob confidently stated, “if she wants to be a moody cow she can, we’ve got a Con to slay!”
Compared to the first bus ride, this one was a bargain, the same price and I’ve been on it for over an hour. It clearly hadn’t been the most direct route, turning this way and that, at one point even retracing a bit of road after going around a housing estate. we’ve made more progress after that, taking a more scenic and hilly route through some forest before dropping back into a more urban area.
Not being quite sure, well having no idea really, where the bus was going, I stayed on until it pulled into some open bus stops by what looked like the railway station. Maybe I can get the train from here? To be honest I’ve hardly ever been on a train, there isn’t a station in Warsop, you have to go to like Worksop or Whaley, its easier to get the bus.
Inside the station I looked for a ticket office but there didn’t appear to be one – leastwise not open. A sort of printy noise attracted my attention, a chap was at a machine which looked like a ticket machine – bingo! There was another of the red and grey blocks next to him so I strolled over to try and make sense and see if I have enough to buy a ticket.
And phew, by pressing a little Union Jack it all came up in English, sweet! I worked out how to check for the fare to Remagen and sagged, twenty nine and a half euros. If I hadn’t had that bun earlier I’d have just had enough, bum, bum, bum! Now what?
I walked out onto the platform to have a thunk but was distracted by one of those map things showing all the stations and lines. Yeah, up there to Cologne then down through Bonn to Remagen which was as far as the map covered, so near, yet so far. Hang on, there’s another line here, Euskirchen then it goes to Bonn, I wonder.
Oh yes! Twenty three euros, I’ve got enough. Lets see, day of travel today, one way, one person, immediate travel, buy. The machine grumbled for a second before a message flashed up, now what? ‘no journeys today, please check your choice’ eh? I tried again and got the same thing, you’ve got to be kidding.
There was a list of departures on the wall, I checked the time, six o’clock, bum, the last train to Euskirchen was ten minutes ago, I scanned the timetable forward, the next one’s in the morning looking at this. Now what, I can hardly wait here all that time. Another play on the ticket machine suggested that if I can get to Euskirchen there are trains from there to Remagen until like midnight – wonder if there’s another bus?
I headed back outside to the bus stands and looked for some sort of timetable, not finding one I started walking along the platforms. Stop three A was the one, good news is there’s a bus this evening, bad news is its two hours away – oh well. Spotting a bench under the trees I headed over resigned to the wait.
Well I was bored after five minutes so I set off to explore the immediate area which is how I spotted the direction sign. It pointed under the railway and stated ‘Euskirchen Zülpich’ with a little bike next to the place names, a bike route I guess. Pity I don’t have a bike, I could ride there, hang on, maybe I could walk?
Hmm, I’ve got trainers on, no sign its gonna rain or even change much from the warm sunny evening that's here. Why not, I can probably get the bus up the road somewhere but I won’t just be hanging about here. I set off along the path that took me into the town centre, the last bus brought me through half an hour ago.
I set off with a determined stride, I might not be exactly dressed for hiking, but its not like I’m climbing mountains is it. There was a supermarket as I left the town so I bobbed in for some water and left with a banana and a couple of packets of biscuits, it only came to just over a euro, I’ve still got plenty for the train. Whilst there was a path alongside the main road, I followed the signed route and soon found myself walking through open fields.
At first it was quite fun, more so after I did a quick strip to take off my tights, tights under shorts might look cool but they quickly get a bit, erm sweaty if you are walking far and this is far. There were signs at all the junctions and my confidence grew with every step – get to Euskirchen, train to Remagen, I can probably walk the last bit to the Bond’s, be there by about ten. I came into another village and decided to take a short break, after all I’ve been walking quite a while.
My feet were getting a bit sore now, I checked the time, eight thirty, where has all that time gone? Goodness knows how far I’ve come, how far is left to get this train, maybe the bus will come along soon? I collapsed on the grass and took my trainers off – ah, that's better.
Two hours later and it was getting dark, and colder and I haven’t got a clue where I am. This is all your fault James, okay so maybe I’ve made some daft decisions, walking instead of waiting for that damned bus being just the latest. Urgh, I can’t walk any further, have to find somewhere to stop.
It was nearly dark by the time I reached the next place, Fussenich and I was ready to just knock on a random house door to seek sanctuary when I spotted the open church door. I checked around, I hadn’t seen anyone for ages, a car passed a few minutes ago but that's been about it, anyhow I was soon inside the church. There was someone inside but they were busy flower arranging or something which let me slip unseen down the side towards the altar where I slipped behind the table cloth thingy out of sight.
I was pretty sure that they wouldn’t be here much longer, I listened to their humming for about fifteen minutes before I heard another voice. There was a short discussion before it went dark and with a heavy clunk, the door closed. I let out a sigh and climbed out of my hidey hole, there was just about enough light through the windows to navigate around which is how I found the cloakroom or whatever they call it.
The toilet was useful but more so were the robe things that I used to make a sort of bed for the night. Of course I couldn’t get to sleep, the creaks and groans of the old building, my head in a complete swirl, this whole thing is just insane. it’ll all be over tomorrow, it has to be, I’ll get to the Bond’s and I can borrow some clean clothes and go home, yeah, home.
Dong, dong – dong, dong – dong, dong– dong, dong– dong, dong– dong, dong– dong, dong
What the? I sat up with a start, my brain scrabbled to make sense of both the noise and my location. Bells, dark space, but its not draughty or especially cold, slowly though it started to all come back, the camper and of course the stupid decision to walk last night. Hang on, its Sunday, bells, church – sugar, I need to get out of here!
In a perfect world I would’ve got my gear together and slipped out of the church without being seen and carried on with my journey. But life’s not like that is it else I’d not be here in the first place, the toilets in Brid would’ve been open, there wouldn’t have been the camper, the ferry – well you get the drift. Listening for voices and expecting imminent discovery, I cracked the door but there was no indication anyone had come into the building.
A loud click startled me and I realised that the bells were actually on some sort of automatic system, maybe even a recording. Still, I should make myself scarce before anyone does turn up. I did take the time to change my knickers, dur, what girl doesn’t carry a spare pair, put my tights back on and after a quick tidy of my ‘bed’ slipped out into the church.
Talk about weird, in proper daylight the place was much less daunting, the silence not complete, but not scary either. I quickly made my way to the door, listened for anyone outside then opened the door. Or not, I rattled the handle about but the ancient door, although moving a little, refused to actually open – bum, the flower woman, they must’ve locked the door, now what?
I guess I’m stuck here until someone comes, its Sunday so there must be a service, I’ll be able to slip out when the priest or whoever turns up. Clearly my overnight hidey hole would be pushing my luck but after a quick look around I found a spot behind a heavy curtain, it didn’t look like anyone had been behind it for a while, the stacks of tables and chairs having a fine layer of dust. My watch claimed six thirty, add an hour – when do churches start on a Sunday?
The bells marked eight o’clock at which point I risked a dash to the toilet and whilst there topped up my water bottle. I’d only just returned to my hiding place when I heard a key at the door, slipping my bag over my head I got myself ready to move. There was however not just one person but by the voices, at least four or five people, who chose to congregate just beyond the curtain.
Now what?
Maddy Bell © 07.06.2018
It was out of the pot and into the fire, so to speak. Without moving I couldn’t tell where they were, and if I move I’ll almost certainly make some noise, which they’ll hear and find me and, well that wouldn’t be good right? Nope, best sit tight, I’ll get a chance sooner or later, they can’t have just come in for a chat can they, can they?
What felt like hours was, when I allowed myself a look at my watch, barely thirty minutes. The original voices had been joined by at least two more, they kept up a constant conversation although they’d moved from directly outside my hidey hole. Not that it made my exit from the building any closer, no I’m still sort of cornered, unwilling to show myself and hoping for a big enough distraction to let me leave unseen.
I went through different strategies in my head, but everything I came up with involved a high chance of being ‘caught’. Nope stick to simple girl – which for now means sitting tight.
The bells started going again at about quarter to nine, not the dong, dong of the hour but a more continuous peel that went on for fully five minutes. The banter out in the church had dropped, the conversation taking on more hushed and serious tones. By the time the bells started ringing in nine o’clock it was clear that the congregation were starting to arrive – the service must start quite soon then.
Bells were replaced by the nasal tones of some sort of organ – the God lot seem to like the wheezy things wherever they are, it sounded like the organist was just making it up as he went along, it was certainly nothing I recognised. It sounded quite busy with bodies arriving, my heart leaped several times as the curtain was moved, caught or whatever then the organ drone changed to some sort of processional thing.
Things were obviously about to kick off, what I’m guessing was the choir started warbling, the low murmur of conversation ceased and my opportunity was coming up. I waited impatiently for them all to start hymn singing, it wasn’t long to wait, I slipped carefully from my perch and crept to the edge of the curtain. There weren’t as many people as I’d imagined sat in the pews, a couple of dozen at a push, the priest was addressing them from the pulpit thing which meant he’d see me as soon as I head for the door.
Bum, bum, bum! A couple of latecomers came in which confirmed my fear, the vicar bloke’s attention was immediately grabbed by the opening of the door even if he didn’t break from his sermon or whatever. He can’t spend the whole service stood up there can he?
There was more singing then finally, he turned to leave his lofty position, yes! I took my chance, slipping past the curtain before ducking behind the nearest pew. Cautiously I peered over the top, brill, they’re all occupied with something at the front.
One, two, three, go! I did a sort of fast duck waddle across to the door and held my breath as I opened it just enough to slip outside, expecting an outcry at any moment. I pulled it closed behind me before legging it across to the road where I slumped against the wall. Now what?
Well things didn’t start well, I’d been walking nearly fifteen minutes before, with more than a little frustration I realised I was retracing my steps from last night. By the time I got back to my overnight refuge the congregation were leaving the place – I hurried past. There was a sign for Zülpich at the end of the village, well its not like following the road is any more direct.
Zülpich isn’t a particularly big place but there is a bakery place so I chanced a few more precious euros on breakfast. It wasn’t expensive, I recognised the name from Gab’s missives, Fruhstück, three and a half euros got me coffee, orange juice and a plate of bread rolls, cheese, meat and salad stuff. Full English it isn’t but surprisingly filling, the last roll I made up and pushed into my bag – well I might need something later.
By the time I set off again it was closer to twelve than eleven and the sun was having a good go at dominating the sky, the earlier clouds being chased away. Nine kilometres, maybe a couple of hours and I’ll be at this Euskirchen place and get the train. Today though I stuck to the main road – well the track / path beside it at least and whilst not exactly scenic I made good progress, only pausing for a few minutes to watch the activity on a lake.
That reminded me of where I should be, Scarborough. I was well past the blame stage by now, as Drew, well I guess Gaby really used to say, shit happens. Gab’s, you wouldn’t’ve let me run off alone, damn I miss having you around cuz. Almost on cue a trio of chattering girls swept past on some of those huge city bikes they like over here – not Gab of course but from what she tells me, it easily could’ve been.
The town is hardly a throbbing metropolis, add in the whole Sunday thing and Euskirchen felt more like a ghost town in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. Well maybe that's an exaggeration, there are people about just not a lot and other than a petrol station none of the shops are open. Having previously worked out what to look for on the road signs it didn’t take a genius to find the railway station. I hurried to one of the ticket machines, took a deep breath and started dabbing at the screen.
S23,S23, I repeated the service number like a mantra, wouldn’t do to get on the wrong train! I had a few minutes before the train was due so I availed myself of the toilet before finding a spot amongst the others waiting. What i’ll do when I get to this Remagen place i’m not sure, time to worry about that later.
The tannoy thing crackled into life, I strained to recognise any of what was being said.
‘Die nachste zug am gleis drei ist die ess sechs und zwanzig nach Bonn’
Bonn, I got that bit, that's where I have to change. A moment later one of those bright red trains swept into the station, the route box showed S23 so I joined the general shuffle as it pulled to a stop. It wasn’t exactly busy, I think more got off than on but I was quite grateful to find a pair of seats to myself in the air conditioned interior.
I was a bit surprised when a couple of minutes later we set back off in the direction of the trains arrival but I guess it was the terminus. For a train, the inside was more like the Nottingham trams, loads of doors included but much wider. I idly watched the view beyond the window, trees, a few fields, more trees, the odd farm, I could’ve been back in Clumber.
There were a couple of stops, some exchange of travellers, soon Mads, be there soon.
‘Die nachste halt ist Bat Moonstereivel, deer zug endet hier.’
No idea what that was all about but I reckon we must be there, why else would everyone be getting up? The train started to slow then came to a halt, a minute later I was on the platform. Hmm, doesn’t look that impressive and like where are the other trains?
The other passengers soon disappeared at which point I spotted the sign on the platform – you know one of those name plates? It didn’t say Bonn that's for sure, no it was a right list of letters, BAD MÜNSTEREIFEL, even I know that doesn’t spell Bonn. Sugar, bum but it had S23 on the front.
It didn’t take much detective work to work out that it was the right service just going the wrong direction. Of course I then watched as the damn thing set off in the right direction, calm girl, there’ll be another one and there wasn’t a ticket inspector so I reckon I can blag it back. Except there wasn’t a train, well not for nearly two hours, urgh!
The station was now deserted, even the drinks machine was empty. I checked what was left of my ill gotten euros, not a lot but I reckon it’ll stretch to a coffee or something. Well if I can find somewhere.
With two hours to kill I set off towards the town – well I guess its the town, the sign said ‘centrum’ which looks about right. Five minutes later I went through a proper town gate and found myself in a wide pedestrian only area, shops and stuff along one side and a river down the other. The place was fair heaving with humanity, there even appeared to be some sort of festival taking place further along.
I wandered up the street, for some reason they have an old red telephone box, an English one with all the little windows, a few touristy shops were open along with a variety of cafés and restauranty places. Biggest problem was that they were all pretty busy but I spotted a couple vacating a table and homed in before someone else grabbed it. Phew.
“Abendt, essenkarte?” the waitress, complete with one of those fancy dresses asked, swooping on me almost as quick as I could sit.
Nope, no idea, “er coffee?”
“Tasse? Kannchen?”
I stretched my memory but nothing, “um.”
You could almost see her mentally doing the dumb foreigner eye roll thing behind her smile.
“Englis?”
“Yes!”
“The kaffee, a cup or beaker?” she vaguely motioned with her hands small and large.
“Big please.”
She did something on her little keyboard thing then disappeared inside.
A couple of minutes later she returned with a tray bearing one of those cafetieré things, a mug, sugar and a small milk jug. It was deftly unloaded in front of me – ooh good, there’s one of those lotus biscuit things!
“Sree euro forty bitter.”
Three forty, half my meagre resources, still, I should be at the Bonds in a couple of hours. I sorted through my few coins and made the right money in change – with a little help from my server, well they all look the same. She departed and I worked out what I had to do for the coffee after spotting another customer with a similar contraption.
There was no point in rushing, as I gave myself about fifteen minutes to get back to the station I might as well enjoy my coffee al fresco. I’ve no idea what the event was, there seemed to be a lot of folksy costumes, jollity and beer – well I assume its beer they’re all drinking. I don’t think it was a private do or anything, there were quite a few more normally dressed folk about too.
Someone started playing some music and as I nibbled at my biscuit it looked like something was going down. Sure enough most of the peeps wearing fancy dress assembled and the guy on the accordian thing was soon enthusiastically producing a jolly tune. The ‘dancers’ were soon just as enthusiastically doing some sort of folk dance – the kind of thing kids do in junior school except this lot were doing it from choice not duress.
Its not really my thing but I found myself engrossed in watching the often intricate steps. I finished my coffee and relocated to a spot on the wall above the river, a bit closer to the dancers but in sight of the church clock. I wonder if this is the guard thing Gabs does – she did try to explain it once but to be honest I wasn’t listening, I do know she has one of the dresses, she sent a picture of her and her friends at that restaurant she works at.
I chuckled to myself, who’d a thunk Gab would be working as a waitress, its not like she couldn’t do other stuff. When Auntie Jen told mum about Gab getting some award for her exams we never heard the end of it, Gaby this, Gaby that. Its not like I’m a failure, I got okay passes on my GCSE’s, but brainbox Bond I’m not.
Quite a few ‘tourists’ gathered to watch and my view was soon obscured by the press of bodies. Its not like I was that bothered but even so it irked, enough that I clambered to stand on top of the wall to see over the heads. Some of the dancing was quite energetic and the crowd cheered loudly as ladies were thrown, swung and otherwise exposed their undergarments.
Things did calm back down and even I can recognise a polka and found myself moving to the music. Probably not the wisest thing to do balanced on a wall but if I was wise I’d be at the Con back home in England right now. It was only when the music ended that I actually checked on the time, bum, the train goes in like five minutes!
I leant down to hook up my bag but as I swung it enthusiastically onto my shoulder I over balanced which sent me, arms wind-milling frantically, down towards the river below.
When I woke it was to the tinkle of nearby water and a navy blue sky, what the heck, how did I get here, where is here? I tried to move, ow, that hurts! ‘That’ being my noggin, I carefully tried everything else out for damage before cautiously feeling at my head.
There didn’t seem to be any blood but there is a great big lump on the back of my head. I must have banged it when I fell, shouldn’t I be in the water? As my eyes adjusted to the light I worked out that I was on a sort of ledge above the river, somehow I’d missed a dunking.
Question is, what now? Well first thing is to get back up to the plaza place, I strained to hear anyone out and about but other than a distant car all I could hear was the water. Yelling’s out then.
The wall above me seemed to stretch forever, only a stray street light showing me the edge in the darkness. Nah, no way I can climb up there, surely there’s a way up somewhere. My head wasn’t so bad once I got on my feet, I checked that I still had my bag, yup, right so which way?
Eventually I found some steps built into the wall which I gratefully clambered up but now I didn’t know where I was, someone’s back garden by the looks of it. There was a light on in one of the upper rooms, music drifted from an open window, urgh! I spotted what looked like a gate and carefully made my way over, keen not to attract the owners attention.
For once luck was with me, the gate wasn’t locked so I slipped out into the street and lured by street lighting found my way to the main drag near the gate I used earlier. Hmm, wonder if the trains are still running, my watch reckoned it was a bit after eleven so there is a chance right?
I hurried along to the station, a bright beacon in the otherwise subdued light, a hopeful sight right? Or not, according to the departures board I was a couple of hours late for the last train, the next departure is early doors. Damn, that means my ticket’s not gonna be any use, fifteen euros down the pan and I’m no nearer to my destination than when I started this morning!
Maddy Bell © 26.06.2018
“Of course it’ll be different on a weekday,” Con enthused down the line.
For the last half an hour I’ve had a blow by blow of her induction thing in Mayen.
“Uh huh,” I agreed trying to put a little enthusiasm into my response.
“You’re not really listening are you?”
“I am, honest.”
“So what did I just say?”
“Something about being different in the week?” I think.
“Hmm, let you off, so how was the Kabin?”
“Quite busy, you know, walkers and trekkers, Hen and his mates stopped for a bit, got a bit rushed a couple of times.”
“Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“Wasn’t trying to Con, if anyone should be guilty its me, I’ve hardly been pulling my weight what with galivanting off racing.”
“We did know that was gonna happen from the start Gab,” she pointed out, “and you put stuff in without being here.”
“I do?”
“Of course you do dummy, the pies, the flyers, boards out on the cycle track and lets face it we wouldn’t’ve had the telly people at the opening if it wasn’t for you.”
“'Course we would,” I blustered.
“You think they go to every cafe opening? Course they don’t, they came because you, the local celeb was involved. You girlfriend are news.”
“Now you’re winding me up,” I told her as I felt the colour rising in my face.
“Nope, lets see now, what has Gertie covered in the valley recently? Opening of the sports track, the Weihnachtsmarkt, opening this place then there was the return of the Weltmeisterin last year of course, anything I've missed?”
“The Weinprinzessin?” I suggested.
“Hah, you weren’t even there but you were mentioned as a previous holder, face it Gab, you are famous, heck, you’ve even been on the cover of Stern, what three times?”
“Erm four actually,” I admitted.
“And that's without the Ahr Post nearly every week.”
“Okay, okay, you’ve made your point, I still feel guilty though.”
“So where’re you off to in the morning?”
And so I bored my BF with the plans for Bavaria which she dutifully listened to for the next twenty minutes.
Bavaria always sounds like its a long way off but it covers a huge area from Austria almost up to Frankfurt, there are smaller countries. So our destination, Wertheim/Main is only about two hours of Mum’s driving away, in the Hymer with a diversion into Neuwied add another hour, an early start but not too ridiculous. We stopped a bit short of our destination for breakfast at Spessart services.
“Okay folks,” Dad started as we tucked into our repast, “Caro will follow you down, I’ll go with Darren and get set up, you know where you’re going Josh?”
“Aye Boss, right as we go down the hill then its straight to the river and then left along to the HQ.”
“Fine, its only about twenty five, thirty K so you should be nicely warmed up, leave in fifteen?”
“We got time for another coffee?” Gret asked – she’s worse than me.
Down to the river, huh, that's a laugh. We got a few strange looks as we rode through the motorway services but of course we exited not onto the A3 but onto the local road at the rear. The first few metres were downhill but virtually as soon as we turned off the main road we started climbing.
Josh set a comfortable pace from the front, a steady piano which allowed for conversation – just, on the climb. It wasn’t steep but the surface was a horrible tar and chip effort that made things less than comfortable but we made steady progress up through the Spessart woodlands.
“I’m really gonna miss this,” Lor opined.
“Me too,” I agreed, its not the same when there’s only a couple of us.”
“Manda’s staying in Germany?”
“’till the end of the year I think.”
“Lucky her,” she sighed.
“So you doing sixth form or something when you go back?” I asked in an attempt to change the conversation.
“I’ve got a place at college, still not sure what I’m doing mind.”
“Don’t you have to tell them when you apply?”
“Yeah, well they said you can swap if you change your mind.”
“So what did you put in for?”
“Photography?”
“Sounds pretty cool, better than hospitality studies.”
“Hospitality studies?”
“Yeah, that's me, well boring.”
The climb was pretty much continuous for several kilometres before dropping through a village and our speed increased significantly. Weeks of riding as a group kept us in a compact group even if it was tempting to let it go when the road dropped more steeply. It flattened out some and in seeming moments we were riding alongside the lazy green waters of the Main.
HQ for todays event was a playing field on the edge of the town which is where we found the joint BC / Apollinaris encampment. Dad, Angela and Darren had been busy in the thirty minutes before we arrived, the shelters were up, food and bidons laid out – everything except race numbers (well we have to actually sign on to get those). Dad had timed things to perfection, we were almost last to surrender our licences, the BC permits no longer raising comment after a summer of riding these events.
We gathered with our fellow competitors in the main square of old town Wertheim, across the river from the parking field, well this is it. Of course we had to go through the usual introduction stuff, yeah I know it goes with the territory but it can get a bit wearisome. It wouldn’t be quite so bad but it points me out as top target all the time, at least as series leader I get to avoid that horrible National champions jersey – I really hope we can have a rethink on the design for next season.
The church bells started tolling ten o’clock and we began todays hostilities. Of course the first bit was neutralised – just as well, the narrow cobbled streets down to the river really aren’t suited to a hundred or so bikes and well wishers clogging them. I suppose starting on the front row does have its advantages, the sound of clicking cleats and cursing behind suggested not everyone found the transit zone as easy. There were more spectators out on the main road, all cheering enthusiastically as we picked up the lead car and started the days exercise.
In theory, today we ride up one side of the River Main to Gmünden and then back down the other side. Of course it couldn’t be that simple could it, for starters there isn’t a road all the way along both banks which means a couple of detours into the surrounding hills or as in the case with this first few K actually using the same road. The real start was only a short way further along as we departed the town but as a Jungere League event its a long way to go at a little over a hundred kilometres.
Of course all the usual suspects are here, some new faces of course, some regulars missing. I spotted Izzy earlier, both Fran and Barbie are here somewhere, Inerthausen and Degenkolb are both here, yup its a top notch field. Any other time I’d be weighing up my options for the win, on paper it should end in a big gallop for which I’d expect to be in with a good chance.
I’ve got a different agenda today though, I don’t want to win – its not like I need the points for the series or anything. No, today is all about making the BC lot look good – not that they aren’t but you know what I mean. Of course I can hardly get the rest of the field to not race and if I simply just do nothing that’ll as likely encourage action.
It was Josh who brokered the answer but for now its business as usual. The road hugged the river as we set off up stream, the trees offering shade from the already warm sun above us. As we made our first small detour away from the river there was a bit of activity behind and the first action of the day was on.
You always get this, locals who ‘know’ the roads out to show the visitors that they aren’t so hot – as if. It never works of course, if they were so good we’d know them anyway and the more experienced of us know the form. The would be escapees, one from Würzburg, the other wearing an SC Taubertal jersey went on a short uphill and quickly gained a few dozen metres.
Not that it did them much good, by the next village they were barely holding twenty metres and that was without any concerted effort to bring them back. Regardless of what jersey I’m wearing it seems that I, and the rest of the Apollinaris team are the ones to watch – if we don’t move no one else does. Oh for some anonymity.
“We doing this hen?” Josh asked sliding back to me.
“Doesn’t look like anyone else is going to move.”
“Where we said?”
I checked my comp, “’bout five K then.”
“Done,” he agreed before drifting further back into the field.
This bit of the Maintal is quite narrow, the river taking up most of the valley bottom, the hills rising fairly steeply away from the water. As a result any deviations from the river mean a bit of a climb and after checking out the old ADAC road atlas in the house, our target point jumped at me. Oh there’s another climb from the river a few K further on but that’s a bit obvious, no, the climb into this Marktheidenfeld place is much more ‘me’.
I cautiously moved up the peloton, well you don’t want to start from thirtieth wheel do you? Izzy gave me a querying look, I gave a shrug back – we might be team mates for Canada in a couple of weeks but today its every girl for herself. The river is quite sinuous, you really can’t see more than about five hundred metres ahead along the valley and so I was a little surprised to see the yellow town board I was looking for. Deep breath Gabs, not far now.
I took a pull from a bidon, the signal to the others that I was ready, it also allowed me the chance to quickly check the dials on my shoes, yup snug. The map wasn’t accurate enough with the contours to identify the lift off point but as we took a sharp right hander into the houses it was time. Around me everyone was changing down to tackle the climb, everyone but me, as the pace started to drop I made my move.
By standing I kept on top of my higher gearing sprinting clear of the bunch and past the locals still a few metres ahead. I could see the top of the steeper than expected ramp maybe another four hundred metres away, a flick of the shifter lowered my gear allowing me to sit and keep the pace going. From behind the sounds of response were interspersed with some unladylike language but I guess it was coming from the lads.
At the top our route joined the main road into the town and a much less steep slope back towards the river. I quickly changed up one, two sprockets and got my head down to chase the lead car. It’s a nice smooth surface through the centre, another change in grade had me heading pell mell towards the river before I spotted the lead car making a right turn, oh sugar.
Thankfully the Polizei were holding the traffic so with a deft flick I gave myself enough extra road to take the corner with just the merest dab of brake. I got myself down into a more aero position and started building my pace to full on testing effort. A dodge around a roundabout and the town was history, the river back on my left, the tarmac sandwiched between orchards and the water.
I was still alone a couple of kilometres later, the guys must be doing a top job of keeping the dogs at bay. Should I take a look back? They could be just out of earshot and I’d never know, no that's defeatist, nope just keep going Gabs. Well whatever, I need to eat, the actual feed is quite a long way off yet, I dug into a jersey pocket and retrieved a slightly squidged jam sandwich.
My lead couldn’t be that big as there was no indication that the neutral service was behind me, I didn’t so much ease off as not push quite so hard, even for me an eighty kilometre solo effort is perhaps a bit much. Away in the distance I could see a church spire, is that where we turn away from the river? Concentrate Bond, keep focused.
I was still alone when the road did eventually bear away from the river and as it started to climb I finally heard signs of pursuit. A allowed myself glance under my arm, looks like a small but select group have come up to me, they took their time. My speed dropped a tad which allowed the pursuers to reach me more quickly, Innerthausen, Degenkolb, Gethyn and Daz – spot on.
“Couldn’t let you have all the fun Bond,” Paul grinned coming alongside.
“You brought friends,” I noted.
“Well they kinda insisted.”
“Hi guys,” I greeted as the rest came through and now, a quick rearward glance confirmed, the service bike was behind me.
Maddy Bell © 20.07.2018
With the bolstered numbers I could at least take a breather and somewhat gratefully fell in behind my team mate. The road climbed in fits and starts, nothing too dramatic but by the time we reached the sort of top we’d gained I dunno, two hundred metres altitude? With only one more climb before the finish there was a sort of collective sigh of relief.
I’ve been in stronger breaks, weaker ones too, but with Josh and co hopefully controlling things behind I reckon its got a good chance of success. When I had a look, as the road changed direction, I couldn’t see the main field, they’ve got to be a good minute behind at the very least.
“How far to the feed?” Geth asked as we started the descent back to river.
“Maybe fifteen K?” I suggested, ”you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, probably should’ve picked up more to start with.”
“I’ve got another sarnie,” I offered.
“Don’t you need it?”
“Nah, I always have too much, lets just say I’m over cautious,” I allowed fishing for the slightly squashed food.
“Cheers Gab, don’t want to bonk.”
He was still pushing it into his mouth when he moved up to take his turn on the front.
I sat tightly behind Daz, not shirking when my turn to lead came, even if Paul quickly came past – well there isn’t much of me to help going downhill. Fields were replaced by woodland then we turned onto a long ramp, the river visible at times through the foliage. The lads were co operating nicely, we’ve all got history, all know each others strengths and weaknesses, I’m pretty sure Paul will have a dig on that last big climb, John will wait it out until the sprint.
For now at least everyone seems content to just consolidate where we are at and so we continued with a nice rotation, the comp showing a lot of high thirties and occasional stretches of forty plus as we tracked the river. I stuffed a last bit of flapjack into my onboard power converter and emptied my bidons, down my throat of course, ready to swap out at the feed. The sun was high now, out from the shade, enough to keep a steady trickle of sweat running down into my bra – luvverly!
Through a bit of town and then the board warning a kilometre to the feed zone. I know my pair won’t do anything daft but the other two, who can tell? Degenkolb’s pockets look a bit stuffed, Pauls not so much, doesn’t need a lot, neutral will supply water if need be but not food. I ran some quick calculations, its probably a bit under two hours back from Gmünden, call it two from here, yeah, on this terrain you could get back if you have enough on board.
“Psst!”
“What’s up Gab?” Daz queried.
“Sshh!”
He became more serious and lowered his voice, “wos up?”
“Chemnitz is gonna attack at the feed.”
“How’d you know?”
“Later, close him down if he goes, I’ll get your musette.”
“’kay,” he replied a bit doubtfully, “what then?”
I quickly ran the numbers, “stay with him until you clear this Gmünden place then drop off, no point competing the sprint.”
“Whatever you say Boss lady.”
Indeed the lad from the east was checking us out as we approached the waiting feed teams, yep he’s gonna go. As instructed Daz was watching the tall German who, right on cue, just as we eased to pick out our musettes, made his move. There aren’t any rules against it, I have done it myself in the past, but its generally considered bad form to attack in the feed zone.
Daz was right on him though, seeing what was going on Angela quickly pulled a second bag around for me to collect. Innerthausen was certainly caught on the hop as was Geth, both looked in some panic as the others disappeared up the road.
“Sugar!” Geth spat.
“Just stow your chow, then we can worry,” I suggested.
“Right as always,” Paul agreed.
Of course it took me longer than the others, I had two bags worth to transfer, what the heck do you do with an extra two bidons?
“Here,” Geth instructed taking the first of Daz’s bottles before sitting up and pushing it into the back of his bibs.
“Interesting,” I allowed.
“Saw someone do it in the Tour, useful eh?”
“Two?”
“Why of course madam.”
Paul just shook his head as we reached the drop zone where we lost the empties.
A fair bit of empty tarmac now separated us from the would be escapees, however fairly straight even roads meant they were in clear view. Our remaining trio restarted a rotation, three is better than two, especially when one of the two is riding anchor. We started to close the gap, steadily rather than quickly, why waste resources when the result is inevitable.
At the next village we changed direction quite sharply , just as well, the river was right alongside us again! Then it was a rattle across a level crossing before sweeping left onto the bridge across the Main. Once across we were directed into the Alstadt for the, now inconsequental, mid race prime.
Not sure if Daz did go for it but our trio had a bit of a go, I just edged Paul for third spot – well it would look off if I didn’t try wouldn’t it? I lost sight of them through the twisty town, talk about a convoluted route! Another level crossing then under and a full three sixty to get up onto the bypass, I thought we might spot any chasers but as far as I could see there were none.
On the first long straight Daz returned to view and we quickly overtook him.
“He’s got a right race head on,” he allowed as I decanted food from my pockets to his.
“Four of us now,” I pointed out, “Geth’s got your bottles.”
“Cheers Gab.”
“We chasing or what?” Paul asked as we climbed to cross the railway line again.
“Plenty of time yet,” I grinned before chomping into a banana.
“Guess I can wait,” he confirmed.
We had a steady speed going, the gap to Degenkolb was pretty constant, about thirty seconds by my reckoning. It seemed like no time at all before we started another convoluted bit of route into and through Lohr, where a second prime sprint awaited us.
“Keep it going guys!” Dad encouraged
“Thirty seconds,” Caro added a time check.
“Dig in ‘pollinaris!” Angela shouted, “well done.”
We didn’t actually sprint this time, Paul led us through, me apparently trailing a bit, all part of the game.
Sprint dealt with, town cleared we started a long, well best part of twenty K vaguely downhill run alongside the river. We quickly had our small train going again and strong though he is, the gap to the leader started to drop rapidly. It was clear we were going to catch him, even he must’ve realised that, but instead of steam rollering through I indicated we should hold back, letting him dangle on his own a bit longer.
“Was worth a try,” he opined when we did reach him, still some distance short of the final climb.
“Yup,” I quipped, “just not your day though John.”
“Still a ways to go yet Bond.”
“Indeed.”
Inevitably, after we made the connection our pace dropped off and whilst I reckon we’ve got a good couple or three minutes in hand that could disappear in a blink. Its not like we needed the lad from Chemnitz so I subtely signalled Geth and Daz to up the pace a bit. It wasn’t much but it was enough, for a couple of K he gamely came through but then he finally blew.
Paul looked around, “where’d he go?”
“Overstretched himself?” I suggested.
You could pretty much see the cogs working, three of us, one of him, not great odds.
We left the riverside and started a gradual climb, not anything like the earlier ascent but I could see Paul thinking about it. Instead of a single climb this was a more jiggly affair, several shorter climbs taking us up the hillside. It was on about the third of these that Innerthausen made his move, my turn to chase down.
It wasn’t one of those high octane things, Paul just kept the power on up the incline, Daz wasn’t paying attention, Geth was on his wheel which left me the only one clear to follow. I shuffled a gear and set about closing the gap, perhaps easier said than done on the washboard surface up to Altfeld.
I was on his wheel as we turned off the bypass, I could hear the others not too far back, it wasn’t a surprise when Geth shot past just as the road started to drop back towards the Main. That's my boy! Paul went to follow only to be cut off by Daz following his mate through. We are still a way out but Geth showed down in Spain that he can go the extra mile and if I can delay Paul a bit…
So there we were, four of us going like billy o down the lane, me tucked in tight behind Innerthausen, the others at about twenty metre gaps ahead of us. The road bobbled a bit then a squeal of brakes suggested slowing would be a good move. I moved out for some space through the junction then dipped down the inside as we took a near hairpin before a straight descent down to and back across the river.
Down onto the riverside road, the same one we set out on, what, four hours ago? It wasn’t exactly what I’d hoped to set up but good enough, I managed to slow just enough that Paul was still riding hard, heck so was I, but the others were slowly moving ahead. he’d notice soon enough, I can only hope not too soon.
Under the autobahn, around Bettingen then back to the river, a real drag race to the line. Ten to go, at five Paul went past having realised finally that I wasn’t exactly chasing down my friends. I went to follow but my legs were rubber, hopefully his aren’t much better.
I could do little more than follow on now, I sat up and took a long pull from a bidon, pretty sure I’ve got enough in hand to get fourth and the points to tie up the series. Out of the trees, two K to go, no idea what's going on ahead, oh I could see them but who was who is another thing. My deficit continued to grow, but at this stage I was too spent to be bothered.
One to go, and the distant sounds of the PA system decorated the airwaves, I couldn’t hear the words but the tone was quite exciteable. Then it was over – well for whoever got it, for me I finally came into sight of the finish. I straightened my jersey and readjusted my braid out of the way, well I want to look good in the photos.
I rolled across the line to a good reception, I might not have won overall but I’m still the first girl home.
“Good ride kiddo,” Dad told me as he caught me as I rolled to a halt.
“Who won,” I gasped out before hitting the fresh bottle Dad handed me.
“Geth, the Inerthausen lad just pipped Daz for second.”
“Bum!” I sighed.
The PA burst back into life with a burst of static, the rest of the race was coming in.
There was obviously some excitement with the result, Mand and Lor both finished ahead of Izzy too. looking at the form you’d think BC would have a strong team for both the girls and lads events but none of these are going to Canada. Still, it will have raised my friends mood and give Caro something to beat her bosses with, especially if the new guys fail to perform across the Atlantic.
“Good ride Bond,” Innerthausen offered as we left the stage.
“You too,” I allowed.
“If I didn’t know better I’d’ve thought you were trying to lose today.”
“Lose?” I retorted, “just having a bad day.”
“Hmm, whatever you say, guess I’ll see you at the airport next week then?”
“Airport?”
“You really do give blondes a bad press, you are going to Canada?”
“Er yeah of course, that airport.”
He shook his head and with a wave departed.
“We stopping to eat?” I enquired as Dad and Josh slid the ezy-up back under the camper.
“Its the plan.”
“Cool!” I enthused, “I’ll change then!”
“You already did hen,” Josh pointed out.
“I’m not eating in this stuff,” I replied clambering back up into the Hymer.
Maddy Bell © 20.07.2018
What to do? Well number one is find somewhere to spend the night, it might’ve been warm all day but its much cooler now, question is, where? It didn’t take long to rule out the station, no real cover anywhere, no I need to look elsewhere.
Bus shelter? Well it’d hardly be the Ritz but there’s usually a bench or something, sure I saw one just along the road. It didn’t take long to retrace my route back towards the town where sure enough there was a shelter. That was the good bit, the downside was that it was on the basic side and after sitting on the bench for a couple of minutes I decided it wasn’t going to work, so now what?
For want of something else to do I looked at the map adorning the back of the shelter. It was one of those stylised things much favoured by transport providers, you often can’t really navigate by them as everything tends to be straightlines. This one was a typical example, a spiderweb of coloured lines radiating from this Münstereifel place.
Of course it might as well have been Chinese, I’ve no idea where any of these places really are. Hang on, Remagen, that’s where I’m headed for! I traced the line back towards the centre and then worked out what the symbols at some place called Altenahr were about.
Seems the bus doesn’t go all the way, you have to catch a train in this Altenahr place to take you to the blue squiggle which I’m guessing is the Rhine and where Remagen is. It must be quite a way, there was a list of seven or eight places before Remagen but if I can get to the train place. Well that sounds like a plan, now how do I get there?
Clearly at something after midnight and with my funding position the actual bus is out of the question which leaves walking. Well its not like I’ve got anywhere to stay, I might as well set off now, never know, I might find somewhere for a kip. I traced the route again, the first place is called Rodert and I already know I’m on the right road.
Lets do this Mad. I set off back towards the station but I was distracted just a short way along by a sign for this Rodert place. Hmm, should I? Its probably a short cut, got to be better than walking along a main road right? The lane had a few streetlights and looked like it went through a housing estate, yeah, I just need to follow the signs.
Ten minutes later I was out of the houses, out of the streetlights and out of breath. Yeah the path was quite well maintained but it was going uphill quite steeply and under the trees the moonlight wasn’t doing a great deal. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.
I was just on the point of turning to retrace my steps to the relative safety below when the path broke into some sort of meadow, the moon now providing ample illumination and whilst still above me, a few lights which I’m guessing is Rodert or Rodent as I’ve now christened it. A dark shape caught my attention, I froze in place when it revealed itself to be a stag, OMG, its like ten metres away.
We sort of stared at each other, Mr Antlers clearly not fazed by my presence anywhere near as much as I was by him. It was a sort of Mexican stand off, me rooted with fear, he clearly expressing his staginess. There was only ever going to be one winner, I carefully stepped backwards, one step, two and then with a snort and shake of the head he moved off, disappearing quickly into the shadows.
I took a deep breath that I didn’t think I was holding, gathered my wits and cautiously but quickly headed towards the village. I’ll say this, these Germans are damned thorough, there was a name board just before I reached the first house confirming that this was indeed Rodent. The lights I saw from down the path turned out to be not streetlights but exterior house lights, you know, by the front doors?
The gravelly path was replaced by tarmac, even if it remained quite narrow and soon I found myself in a small square, now where? Where indeed, I guess I didn’t really think this through very well did I? Almost at random I picked a path down the side of the church, it was the best lit option and wasn’t going downhill which I thought was a good thing.
Clearly Rodent isn’t very big as I soon found myself at the end of the houses again, this time at a small grassed area hard up against the trees. There was however one of those boards they have at nature reserves and stuff, well it was worth a quick look, the moon has the place lit almost like day. One side was no help at all, a typical illustration of stuff you might see on the trail but I hit pay dirt when I went around the other side.
The map was your typical ‘you are here’ thing with different paths and routes marked. But just like Rodent there was a name I recognised, next to an arrow pointing off to the top it said Effelsberg, another stop on that bus route. The map scale suggested it was about a couple of kilometres to where the arrow was, that's not far.
Only question is, do I want to head into the trees? How bad can it be, I mean its not like there’s a handy bed here and the whole idea of walking is to get closer to the Bonds place. After another study of the map and I’d convinced myself to at least give it a try, if I can’t see I’ll come back, maybe I can get into the church like last night. The path appeared to end in a black maw but when I got closer I realised that whilst it wasn’t well lit, you could see the track quite well, okay, here goes.
It was a couple of hours later that I emerged from the trees into a sort of picnic area, a parking area just beyond it. Can this be Effelsburg? I slumped onto a bench, after the last 48 hours exhaustion was fast catching up to me. Maybe I should sleep, have a fresh start in the morning, my watch claimed four thirty, yeah a couple of hours and it’ll be light, get an early start.
Not on the bench though, I cast around for somewhere a bit cosier and spotted some sort of log cabin. It didn’t smell great but there were benches and it was out of the weather, I’d barely closed my eyes before I was out.
“Heimy, kommen sie hier!”
I jerked awake just in time to receive a faceful of dog slobber, urgh gross!
“Heimy wo ist da?” the voice called again.
I guess the smelly slobbering thing panting at me is Heimy, “er Heimy go,” I suggested shooing the hound away. He however was having none of it and just stood breathing gross er breath over me. “um good doggy?”
“Ach du bist! Hier kommt hund, sind tut mir leid fraulein.” the woman mentioned, no idea what she said but I guess she was apologising for the dog, who gave an enthusiastic woof before bounding off. “Heimy! Hier kommt!” she shrugged at me before setting off after the recalcitrant animal.
I sat myself up before finding a paper napkin to wipe my face clean of dog drool. Great, I must look like a right tramp. My brain started to re-engage, where am I? What time is it?
A look about me sort of answered the former a look at my watch the second. Nine thirty and in some German picnic cabin if the debris was anything to go by. So much for getting ahead.
I dug in my bag and found I still had the, now slightly robust roll that I made at the bakery place yesterday, that with a few sips of water made an unsatisfactory breakfast but it was better than nothing. I laughed to myself when I heard Heimy’s exasperated owner herding him, I presume into a car, a moment or two later an engine started and I was alone again.
It was a bit cooler this morning, not cold but the sun was somehow less intense in its energy. I felt a lot calmer today, surely I can get to my Aunt’s place today – well if I can find them that is. Yep, get to this Remagen place and I’m sure someone will know the Bond’s and point me in the right direction.
After my poor repast I gathered my stuff and set off in the direction ‘Heimy’ and his owner went. There was indeed the car parking area I remembered from last night and, yes, another one of those map information board things! I hurried over to check it out – I don’t want to end up going back where I’ve come from.
So of course it took me a minute to get myself orientated, the ‘you are here’ spot was easy enough but working out how I got there and where I need to head is a different matter. After I found Rodert on the map it was clear that in the dark I’d missed a turn, maybe two, which left me about a kilometre from where I thought I’d be. In the light of day it was easy to see where I needed to go, up and over the road then follow the blue arrows, which should bring me out not far from this Effelsburg place.
The trail was easy going, kinder to the feet than walking on the cycle paths and if I hadn’t been lost hundreds of miles from home I’d probably actually enjoy the walk. The forest was alive with life, birds up in the canopy singing away, butterflies flitting over the sparse undergrowth and I swear there was a woodpecker tapping out a tattoo somewhere too. It was a path clearly used by horses as well as walkers, in a few places it was a bit churned by hooves with the accompanying deposits decorating the track.
Don’t ask me what any of the stuff was, I can just about identify an oak from a pine but Chris Packham I’m not. I hummed along to myself, thoughts of my predicament temporarily forgotten as I enjoyed the walk. After about thirty minutes I came to a junction, my signed route barred with a steel barrier, an arrow with ‘umleitung’ on it pointing off to the right with some sort of notice below – bum.
What to do? Why is it closed, could I get through? Away in the distance the sound of some sort of machinery carried through the trees, hmm maybe I’d best follow the arrow. Not for the first time this weekend I wished I’d paid more attention when we did German in year ten.
The diversion started out well enough but it wasn’t long before it closed in somewhat and then started winding about. When the path started clambering over and between rocks I did begin to wonder if I was going right, not that I’d seen an alternative anywhere. Given the lack of an alternative, bar retracing back to the road, I pushed on.
I started to catch glimpses of fields through the trees below me, the path angling down towards the open ground. There was a bit of a scramble down a steep bit before it fetched up at a very un-German looking field wall complete with a stile. Once over I found myself on a grassy track, another one of those ‘umleitung’ arrows directing me along to the left.
Oh well, after a deep breath I set off anew now under a blue sky rather than a green canopy. It looked like the field had been recently cut, bales of hay scattered across the parched landscape, off at the bottom more trees closed the area off. I seemed to be heading towards a road, well at least I saw a tractor and a couple of cars driving along the edge of the trees ahead of me – hopefully I can get back on track from there.
What I hadn’t seen until I got almost to the road was that it didn’t run straight down the hill but followed the edge of the trees, disappearing around a bend maybe a hundred metres to the right of where the track joined it. By now it was heading towards mid day and my stomach was rumbling a bit, my ‘breakfast’ having made barely any impact on my calorific requirements. There were two arrows on the opposite side of the road, the ‘umleitung’ pointing to the left and up hill, the other stated ‘Lierser Mühle 250m ’ and pointed the other way.
Hmm, I considered my options, plug on along the diversion or make a further deviation and perhaps find some food. Not that I’ve got much in the way of resources here, a quick check of my remaining purloined cash revealed a measly three euros ninety five – pity they don’t take pounds here, there’s about seventy quid in my purse. Another rumble decided the issue, I set off towards this ‘Lierser Mühle’ place, maybe I can get a bar of chocolate or bag of crisps?
I’m not sure what I was expecting but five minutes later I wasn’t looking at it, rather I found myself in what was pretty much a few houses gathered around a fairly large, posh farm. I was through and out in no time, not so much as a pub let alone a shop to be seen, oh well, guess its back up the hill. About halfway through I had to stop as a car came along a lane of packed dirt in a cloud of dust.
I had to wave the dust away before moving on after the Mercedes scorched away down the lane. If it hadn’t been for that I might’ve missed the ‘Illy®’ board and the sign for the ‘Café Bühlerlochsmühle’. Well I’ve come this far, why not?
Ten minutes walk along the dirt road brought me to a building that is best described as rustic, all timber, a waterwheel along one side hinting at a previous use. A couple of cars were parked off to one side, several tables with furled umbrellas occupying an enclosed area, just the sort of thing you see in holiday brochures. I continued to where there was a menu in a cabinet, not that I can afford anything like.
The surprise was that I could, the Tagessuppe was just three fifty, yep it clears me out but what else am I gonna do? I walked into the garden and sat myself at a table off to one side, I’m sure someone will come out. I hadn’t been sat for more than a minute before a waiter type came out and wordlessly put the parasol up.
“Essen karte?” he started to offer a menu.
“Er tags soup?”
I didn’t get the menu instead he spoke again, “Heute wie haben zwei, Minestrone oder Tomate.”
Nope, not getting all that but minestrone sounds okay.
“Er, eines bitter.”
“Minestrone?”
I nodded my head, “um yar,” I agreed.
“Getranke?”
“Er nine danker,” whatever it is I can’t afford it, “um toilet?”
I was directed inside, suddenly aware that I probably look a right mess.
Ten minutes in the facilities was enough to sort out my needs, have a quick wash down and a general tidy up and slap job, at least I looked less like a tramp. Out at ‘my’ table I was surprised to find a jug of water, several bits of bread in a basket thing along with a linen napkin and spoon. The waiter almost followed me back out, placing a sizeable bowl of soup in front of me, oh yeah!
“Er danker.”
“Enjoy.”
I looked at the food, is this really just three fifty? Another rumble from my stomach decided I didn’t care, I mean what are they gonna do if its more, make me give it back? I poured myself a glass of water, added salt and pepper to the soup and dug in – nirvana!
After shovelling in several spoonfuls, my immediate hunger abated and I relaxed, lets savour this, after all I don’t know when I’ll get to eat again. The soup was good, nothing like the tinned stuff at home, this was more like a thin vegetable soup, which is I guess what it is but of course with the addition of bits of pasta. The bread was maybe a bit crusty for me, bit like those rolls yesterday but they certainly helped bulk the meal out.
Maddy Bell © 30.07.2018
“So that’s what was in the extra bag,” Mand chuckled.
I waggled my eyebrows, “so what do you think?”
“I think you’re mad.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“If you say so.”
The subject of discussion? Well my ‘dinner’ frock, I am not wearing the team ‘uniform’ dress, not today, no, instead its a little number my sister picked up as a joke birthday gift. No nothing like that, you remember that dress Ginger Spice had, the Union Jack thing? Well that’ll be me for dinner.
“Hope you’ve got some armoured knickers.”
I brandished the albeit brief matching sequined pants, “ta da!”
Mand shook her head, “I dunno Bond.”
“You think this is too much,” I queried producing a headband with a pair of Union flags on its sprung antennae.
“Definately, might pinch that myself mind.”
“Here,” I handed it off to her, “where’re we stopping Dad?”
“You’ll find out,” he mysteriously replied.
Clearly Dad and the other adults had planned things somewhat in advance as after about fifty minutes Caro, driving the minibus ahead of us took a turn off the A3.
“This it?” I enquired peering out at the non descript countryside outside.
“You’ll see,” Dad replied mysteriously.
“Angela?” I appealled.
“I’m in the dark too,” Ron’s mum told us.
“You putting that silly dress on Ginge?” Mand asked.
“That is why I brought it.”
“Might be time then?” she suggested.
“You’ve got five minutes,” Dad called over his shoulder.
“Okay,” I shot back.
“Gab!” Mand complained.
“What?” I queried once I’d got my top over my head.
“You could use the back,” she suggested.
“No one can see,” I pointed out as I started undoing my cargo’s.
She rolled her eyes, “you really are shameless Bond.”
I’m not really, its just that years of communal changing rooms, getting dressed in car parks and lay-by’s and an older sibling not exactly shy of walking around the house in her underwear means I don’t have the same body phobia some kids have. I mean, its not like I’m stripped naked, I do have pants and a bra on. By the time the camper started making turns and creeping progress I was be-sequinned in red, white and blue and looking through my make-up bag.
Dad had to lift me out of the Hymer – well have you tried steep steps in a micro dress? I might not be embarrassed by my body – well not too much but having your dress around your middle and knickers on full display is not a look I want to explore. And the breeze along the river accentuated the brevity of my outfit, I’m sooo glad I remembered the matching knickers, at least they offered a bit more protection from the elements.
“What is this place?”
“Seligenstadt,” Dad supplied as he locked the camper.
“Never heard of it,” I noted as we started along the parking lot towards where the BC bus was parked.
“No reason you should,” I was informed.
“So what river is it?” Mand asked, “looks quite big.”
“Same one you were racing along earlier,” Dad advised.
“The Main?” I suggested.
“The same,” he agreed as we reached the others, “everyone ready?”
“Whoa, its Ginger Spice!” Geth exclaimed which had the effect of drawing everyones attention to moi.
“Didn’t realise it was fancy dress,” Lor mentioned.
“Har de har,” I snapped back.
“A thought yous were German now like?” Josh noted.
“Do I look German?”
“Well actually,” Sal put in, “you sort of do, and what with your accent.”
“Accent?”
“She disna know,” Jamie added, “yer certainly don’t sound like a Sassenach.”
“And you dress like a German too,” Claire concluded.
“And how exactly do German’s dress,” Tal asked.
“Erm,” Lor started, “like you guys?”
“If you lot are ready?” Caro suggested.
I’d never even thought about different nationalities wearing different stuff – well apart from stuff like Kostum but that's not everyday wear, least not in my neck of the woods. I looked over my companions dress and mentally compared it against how me and my friends dress and had to agree up to a point at least. When Gaby made appearances back in England I wore what Mad, Ali and Bern did, it was the same here in Germany, you want to fit in right?
I came to a sudden halt, almost bowling Daz over.
“What we stopped for?”
“So we don’t get knocked over, the ferry’s just docked,” Gret supplied.
“Ferry?”
“I swear you walk around with your eyes shut,” Mand opined.
“Do not,” I pouted.
The ferry wasn’t some huge great ship of course, in fact it wasn’t even as big as the one at Linz although it was a similar style. I guess they don’t need anything so big, the river here isn’t that wide and I guess half a dozen cars clears the queues okay. In fact as we waited the motorised traffic coming up the ramp were outnumbered by a flock of trekkers and walkers.
Once the wheeled stuff had passed our own flock crossed the top of the slip way to and up the street away from the river. Away from the water the late afternoon heat reflected off the whitewashed walls almost oppressively, still, that was preferable to the breeze up your fundament. It wasn’t actually a long walk, perhaps a hundred metres or so but we soon arrived in a bit of a square, mostly taken up with outdoor restaurant seating for, if the different seating is anything to go by, three different establishments.
Dad and Caro left us with a ‘wait here’ which left us milling about in the sunshine.
“That’s what I mean,” Claire stated joggling my elbow.
“Eh?”
“Those girls over there.”
I looked where she indicated, a group of teens were getting Eis from a Gelaterie.
“What about them?” Well they didn’t look any different from any group of teens in the Ahrtal or Bonn or anywhere – well one of them was ‘mixed race’ but so what?
“Come on Gabs, when did you see that sort of outfit in Manchester or Yorkshire?”
“All the time.”
“Really?”
I then got what she meant, whilst essentially it was the same sort of stuff, all of the girls across the plaza looked smart, no errant bra straps, proper shorts instead of cut offs, even the trainers are all pristine. Is that really how Auslanders see us? Do me and my friends comply with the same ‘code’? But of course we do, even if we’re doing scruffy it’ll be ‘smart’ scruffy, I guess you can spot the Brits by their more slap dash approach to dressing.
Any further reflection on Claire’s observation halted as our leaders returned.
“Okay guys, if you follow the chap on the far side, he’ll get you seated,” Dad advised.
The chosen eatery, Zu den Drei Kronen, The Three Crowns, is what I would call the posher end of the traditional German restaurant range. In other words you get a fairly traditional menu presented a bit nicer and pay more for the privelege – nothing fancy of course, Germans can be quite conservative in their eating choices. We were having a fixed menu apparently – guess to make it easier for the cooks and I bet Dad screwed them on the price too.
By the time we were seated around a big table, clearly several pushed together to accommodate the sixteen strong party, the Maitre D had several waiting staff delivering iced water.
Dad tapped a glass to get our attention.
“Okay everyone, I’m not going to bore you all with a long speech, don’t want the food to get cold do we? I know from what you’ve all told Angela, Caroline and myself that you’ve enjoyed being here, in turn we’ve enjoyed having you here. I know things haven’t exactly turned out as we had hoped but now isn’t the time to go over that again, as you know, I’ve spoken to everyone over the last couple of weeks and you all know where things stand.
Whatever happens going forward, I hope that you’ve all, both BC and Apollinaris riders, benefitted from the experience. The breaking news is that Darren will be returning to ride with Apollinaris next year on a full season basis – I’m just sorry that I can’t offer the same to the rest of you. On the positive side, Caroline is hoping to set up a junior racing team in the UK so think of this, not as the end but as a new beginning.”
Whilst Dad was talking, glasses had been filled with something wine like.
“So, rather than waffle on I’d like you to all join me in a toast,” he waited for everyone to lift their glasses, “to the future success!”
“Future success!” we chorused back before taking a sip of the wine.
Caro stood up, “before we get down to the serious business of eating I’d like to just add my two penn’ath. Firstly I’d like to echo Dave’s words, it really has been a privilege in working with you all this summer, I know Daz and I have picked up more German than we had and we would’ve been lost without Angela’s culinary skills. So in reply I’d like to ask all my lot to join me in thanking Dave and all the Apollinaris crew for making this summer such a success.
To our German hosts, prost!”
“Prost!” the rest of the BC lot returned.
Dad stood again, ”okay, lets not get maudlin, time to belatedly celebrate your Spanish successes and of course todays result, enjoy!”
The food was soon being distributed, a thin soup to start, followed by the usual salad and a main course of turkey ‘Hawaii’ with boiled taters. Like I was saying, nothing too fancy but nice enough and a little bit different to all the schnitzel and so on. The whole was rounded out by a berry compote and finally coffee. Which is when it started to get a bit silly but you don’t want to know about that, really, you don’t want to know!
“Damn!”
“What now,” Dad queried with a tired sigh arriving in the kitchen with the basket of bidons for washing.
“I’ve got my college thing tomorrow.”
“Tuesday,” he stated.
“No tomorrow, look I marked it on the calendar,” I told him grabbing the said thing from its hook.
“Its Tuesday, your mother is running you down.”
He was right of course, it was clearly etched on the calendar, where I got Monday from I’m not sure.
“Bum, I told Con it was tomorrow.”
“You’d best ring her now then,” Pater suggested.
“But its well late,” I noted.
“And who’s fault is that?”
It was sort of mine, but not entirely, it wasn’t me that started the impromptu karaoke session in the restaurant – I will admit to not exactly shying from stretching my vocal chords a bit. Not that anyone discouraged my efforts either, I’m quite proud of my a-capella rendition of 99 balloons and the girls choir version of the Spice anthem Wannabe had us all in hysterics as we ad-libbed our own lyrics. It wouldn’t have been quite so bad but we still had a couple of hours drive to get home afterwards.
“Hmm?”
“Con.”
“Gab? What time is it?”
“Er,” I checked my watch, “just turned twelve, look sorry but I’ve mucked up.”
“Hmm?” she sleepily opined.
“My college thing, its Tuesday not tomorrow.”
“Kay, see you in the morning,” she mumbled before cutting the call – well I can’t blame her I guess, I’m pretty kernacked myself.
Maddy Bell © 06.08.2018
I finished the food and sat back at least temporarily sated. I sipped at my glass of water, when it struck me, talk about a ditz, my phone might not have a connection but I could use a landline. Not that there’s a public phone here but there must be one somewhere on my way right?
I fished out my mobile and switched it on, relieved to find it still had two bars showing – not great but enough. It was the job of moments to bring up my contacts and transcribe Gab’s number onto the useless train ticket. If I had thought of doing that yesterday or even better Saturday I’d be out of this mess already, doh!
The waiter came out, I guess he’d seen I was done eating.
“Enden?”
I smiled back, “um yar?”
He gathered the crockery then returned with the bill. I turned it over, it really did say three fifty, I quickly fumbled out the coins from my purse and passed them over. After a quick count he allowed a slight smile, “Gut danke, Guten reise!”
“Um danke.”
I quickly made good my escape and for some reason didn’t go back towards the road. Damn, now I’ll have to go back past, they’ll spot me and demand the extra I owe them. It was only as I debated my options for dodging past the Café Bühlerlochsmühle that I spotted the finger post pointing into the woods not twenty metres away.
Apparently some place called Kirchsahr Binzenbach was only two point three kilometres away – maybe there’s a phone box? I was a bit turned about but it seemed to be generally the right direction so I started in. it was uphill away from the mill place, not steep enough to get you properly out of breath but I was soon perspiring which led to a stop to readjust my clothing a bit.
The path levelled off a bit not much further on and I could hear what sounded like traffic not too far ahead. Surely I’ve not done two kilometres already? When I emerged from the trees I was a bit disappointed to find myself on a path next to a wide road with a regular stream of traffic – not heavy but busy enough.
There was another post, Kirchsahr Binzenbach is still one point nine kilometres one and some place called Altenahr twelve one way, Effelsburg at one point two and Bad Münstereifel seventeen and a half the other. Well at least I’d made the right call after lunch, I readjusted my clothing again and set off along the hot tarmac. The path crossed a lane a short way on and at the point where the road started to dip away it angled away through more trees.
However, compared to the previous woodland escapades this remained a reasonably well surfaced footpath cum cycle track. Like the road it was heading downhill steep enough that I was glad I was going down not up, it wasn’t going straight though, several times it made quite sharp changes in direction in a sort of switchback way. Some maniac whizzed past me on a race bike – that’d be Gab on here I bet!
By the time I reached the village my calves were killing and my feet were quite sore too – I just hope I am actually going the right direction. The bad news was that I couldn’t see a phone box, maybe the next place? I checked the time, heading towards three, well there’s plenty of daylight, maybe I’ll have more luck at this Altenahr place.
I set off again at a steady pace, not too fast, after all I’m bang out of local dosh now so I need to nurture my energy. My mind started to wander, re-living how I got to be here, my whole relationship with James, hmmph, who’d’ve thought that me and Gab, well it was Drew back then I guess, going to get chips or pizza or something would bring me to this, tramping through Germany on my own. And why have I continued to go it alone, I could easily, even now turn myself in and it would all be over.
What am I afraid of? Its not like I intended stowing away is it? So okay maybe getting in the camper wasn’t exactly my best idea – I could’ve found another toilet, yeah I’d have missed the bus, but I could have caught a later one. I missed it anyhow so fat lot of good it did me.
I’d walked past a bunch of plum trees, the ground below splattered with fallen fruit, before it occurred to me that here was some free food. Well it looks free, I mean, if anyone really wants the fruit why’d they let it drop on the path? Still, no point in taking a chance, I slipped through the fence and into the field behind.
I hadn’t seen them before but there were about a dozen sheep lying in the shade, I’m not sure who was most surprised, them or me. Almost as one they got to their feet and bleating angrily they headed across the field, presumably to some alternative shade from the afternoon heat. Looking at the plum trees it was clear the idea of eating the fruit wasn’t mine alone, the locals had cleared everything pretty much up to my chest height.
However there was still plenty higher up where my arms but not sheepsies could reach. I found a carrier bag in my pack – well you never know when you’ll need this stuff do you, and started to pluck fruit. Well of course I had to sample a few, the firm flesh a delightful bitter sweet hit on the taste buds.
It didn’t take long to pretty much fill the bag – well what I don’t eat I can give to the Bonds. A quick clamber back through the fence and with a slightly guilty feeling I set off once again. You know when you have a bag of your favourite sweets and you can’t help but keep reaching for another one? Well I found myself pretty much chain eating the plums.
I’m not sure why but I started to feel a bit iffy maybe an hour later, no sooner than that. Maybe its the heat or perhaps over indulging on plums but whatever, my stomach wasn’t rumbling in hunger but in discomfort, I need a loo! isn’t this where all this started?
My speed dropped and I took on a bit of a waddle, you’ve been there right? Just my luck, free food then I’m ill from it. There didn’t appear to be anywhere to relieve the plum’s side effects so I shuffled along slowly, I’ll even take an open gate – there's no way I could climb anything in this state.
Any hope of nipping into a field was dashed soon after as a high hedge replaced open grass and through it I could see what looked like caravans. Damn and double damn! Just my luck, when I need a field I get a campsite.
I was almost at the entrance when it struck me, this could work out to my advantage. Campsites have toilets right, so all I have to do is go in, sort myself out and slip out – what could be simpler? As luck would have it, when I reached the gate a group of kids on bikes were just going in, I put on a smile and confidently followed them in.
A quick look on the site plan identified where the ablutions were sighted, I took a slightly roundabout route so I didn’t look too obvious. I wanted, no needed to hurry, but I walked as casually as I could to the block, pushed the door and noooo, its locked! Why me? What now?
My key was at the lock when the door swung open to let a rather sunburnt and buxom woman out. I chuckled and waved my key as I stepped back to let her pass before I caught the door and slipped inside. It had been an agonising few minutes having just missed tagging behind her going in but at least she hadn’t been showering. It was cooler inside which was a relief, I found a cubicle, job done as they say.
Talk about embarrassing, I’ve no idea how long I was in there, too long that's for sure, each time I thought I was done there was another grumble, in the end I just sat it out. Of course there was a stream of other visitors and by the conversations tome I guess I or rather my stomach wasn’t making any friends. Eventually though things settled down and I escaped the confines of the cubicle.
It was tempting to utilise the showers but without a towel that was a no no and when I looked, you needed a fifty cent coin anyhow. Instead I had a bit of a wash, using my fleece to dry off in lieu of an alternative. Which is how I found myself two euro coins better off, they’d been on the shelf above the mirrors where I’d plonked my top while I washed.
I slipped back outside and once again took a round about route to the entrance, slipping out and turning onto the path, walking maybe a little quicker than strictly necessary until I turned the first bend. It was only then that I realised I hadn’t picked up the bag of fruit – well given the last hour or so maybe that's just as well! And then it was another doh moment, there’d been a telephone kiosk by the campsite entrance, grr!
Oh well, I’m not going back now. There was a bit more traffic about, even on the cycle track, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a lad on one of those scooter things swept past before putt, putting down the roadway ahead of me. One of them things would be great right now, my feet are sore and I really don’t want to walk any more.
The road wound downhill even further before coming into a bit of a village, not the Altenahr place but somewhere called Kreuzburg according to the yellow board. It wasn’t much of a place, no phone again so after a short stop where the road crossed a river I pushed on. There was some sort of main road to cross, it took me a few minutes to work out which way actually went into this Altenahr place, the road sign suggested it was just a kilometre away, must be the place where I can see a church steeple I guess.
A kilometre, even at my reduced speed it only took fifteen minutes before I crossed a level crossing and found myself in the town, village, whatever. A couple of minutes later I spotted a ‘DB’ symbol on a sign, that's the railway, hang on, level crossing, station, phone box! Yes, I hurried along and quickly spotted the station building.
Its not much of a station but it did have a public phone, I quickly claimed it and dug out my recently found coins and Gab’s phone number. Okay, coin in slot ready, four, nine, two…. I tried it three times but it wouldn’t connect, maybe I got a number wrong. I slipped outside and found a bench so I could check I’d got it right, the mobile restarted and now only showed one bar, dang! Quickly I checked Gab’s number, yep, everything's right, maybe I put it in wrong or missed something. Back in the station building I had to wait for the phone to become free as I’d been gazzumped while I checked Bond’s number.
Not that it made any difference, I carefully pressed each button and still I got a dead tone, she can’t have changed her number can she? What if she has, surely she would’ve told me right? Now what, no money, no food (again), don’t know where I’m going or really where I am.
Perhaps she’s out training or something and her phone’s turned off, yeah that’ll be it, she’s bound to turn it back on when she gets in. I checked my watch, how did it get to that time? So if its ten past six now, I’ll give it till seven and try again, can’t imagine she’ll be out after that.
Given I had some time to kill it seemed reasonable to explore this place for a bit, maybe there’s somewhere nice to sit up in the town. I crossed the sort of car park bit to where I could see a bridge decorated with loads of flower boxes and beyond that what looked like the shopping area. The shops seemed a weird collection for such a small place, electrical stuff, a florist, the usual bakery and so on but I counted three, yep three banks but no supermarket – maybe its on a different road.
There wasn’t really anywhere to sit that I could see, maybe there is but I didn’t really want to go too far from the phone booth. I headed back towards the river, pausing to look at the restaurant menu – I might be skint but I can look. The Anker looked to have what I recognised as the usual German fare, schnitzel and stuff, it looked fairly busy too.
I sighed to myself, oh well, hopefully when I find the Bond’s they’ll feed me, what am I thinking, of course they will, that's one thing you can always be sure of with my cousins lot, they always feed you. There were some ducks on the river, I watched them for a bit but I really needed to get off my feet. Well there’s that bench outside the station I suppose.
The kiosk place by the bridge looked a bit twee, I mean Connie’s Kiosk, what sort of name is that, I bet its run by some old maid. Seriously, look at all the flowers and those old fashioned tables and chairs, you can see all the old granny’s sat drinking tea. Or maybe coffee, Gab is always complaining about the Germans and tea.
Must be the heat and hunger slowing the old grey matter but something clicked. Oh my god, this is where Gab works, Connie is her friend she runs it with, that means I can’t be far from the Bond’s place. I guess its further down the river, she always says she’s been up to the kiosk which makes sense.
I was nearly bouncing in excitement, I’ve made it and all on less than five Altarian dollars a day! A couple of minutes later I was perched on the station bench again and despite my earlier episode, I would’ve happily eaten more of those plums. To distract me as I waited to try Gab’s phone again I tried to make sense of the adverts rolling over in one of those multi sheet things.
I’d watched the sequence three times before it hit me, the telephone number on what looked like an ad for an optician started with a zero. I got out the ticket and checked the number, duh, you idiot Peters, you don’t need the international code, you’re in Germany! So that means I’ve been wasting time waiting to call her again.
The phone connected and I waited for it to be picked up, one ring, two, three, come on Gab, where are you, four, five. There was a click and I pushed my coin home.
“Abent, wie sind Sie?”
“Gab?”
“Ja, wo ist das?”
“Gab, its me, Mad,” I almost cried into the handset.
“Mad, thank Gott, where the hell are you, have you rung home?”
“Germany,” I allowed.
“Germany?”
“Well some place called Altenahr to be precise,” I told her.
“How, no don’t bother, stay there, we’ll come and get you, where exactly are you?”
“At the station.”
“Stay put, we’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks Gab,” I managed with a bit of a snuffle.
“Just stay there,” Gab ordered, my coin dropping and ending the call before I could reply.
I went back out to the bench, pulled my knees up and started crying which is how Uncle Dave and Gab found me a few minutes later.
Maddy Bell © 30.07.2018
“Your phones been going daft Gabs.”
what now, “coming.”
I left Max and headed back to the kiosk.
“Its rung about six times,” Con advised as I recovered my Handy from my backpack.
I flicked through the call history, it was actually four calls from a number I didn’t recognise immediately, before I could reply myself the phone started to announce another incoming call, yep same number.
“Hello?”
“Gab? That you?”
“Er yeah,” I admitted as I tried to place the clearly English voice on the other end of the line, “who is this?”
“Helen?”
Helen, Helen – oh Helen, “er hi Hel, sorry, so how’s Warsop?”
“Same as, you heard from your cousin lately?”
“Mad? Not for a bit, few weeks maybe.”
“She’s not rung this week at all?”
“What’s up Hel, what’s going on?”
“Damn, its a long story.”
“Cut to the chase?”
“Well you know she’s been seeing that lad?”
“John?”
“James,” she corrected.
“James,” I agreed, “so?”
“They broke up and now she’s disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“She was supposed to be at one of those Cosplay things with James this weekend but no ones seen her since Friday, everyone’s frantic.”
“Sugar.”
“You got any idea where she might’ve gone?”
“Not really, we’ve not exactly been close lately, maybe she’s got some other cosplay friend she’s with?”
“Yeah maybe,” Helen didn’t sound convinced of that idea, “if you hear from her...”
“I’ll ring Auntie Carol, I’ll tell Mum, let me know if there’s any news Hel.”
“I will, look, gotta go, we’re going down to Nottingham, we go down quite a bit, you never know someone might’ve seen her.”
“Yeah, good luck.”
“Bye.”
“Bad news?” Con asked.
“My cousin’s gone missing.”
“One of the littlies?”
“No, Maddy,” I told her, the reality only now sinking in.
“Your Zwillingschwester?”
“She’s not actually my twin,” I pointed out.
Con shrugged, “you look like Zwilling. So what’s happened?”
“From what Helen said she was going to a Con with her boyfriend, they had a fall out and she’s disappeared.”
“Damn, so your friend, she thinks she will come here?”
“Unlikely, how’d she get here?”
“Fly?”
“She’d need a passport to get out of the country, they don’t have ID cards like us, bum, Max!”
“Well?” I queried.
I’d only got little bits of the conversation, Mum has been on the phone with Auntie Carol for like half an hour.
“Calm down kiddo.”
“I can’t, what happened?”
“So,” Mum started, “Mad, this James lad and some of their friends got the train up to Scarborough Friday afternoon. Apparently there was some argument and Maddy stormed off when they got there. Her friends thought she’d turn up at the b&b later, when she didn’t they assumed she’d gone home.
No one realised she was missing until last night when she should’ve got home, long story short, the police are on the case, your Uncle has made one of those TV appeals.”
“You think something’s happened to her? Its not like she’s in the habit of going off is it?”
“Well Carol says she’s stormed off a couple of times in the last year but she’s always rung home before.”
“She’s never said anything.”
She pulled me into a hug, “I know your worried kiddo, we all are, Carol will call if there’s any news, its not like we’re just around the corner.”
“I could go and help look?”
“If I thought it’d help we’d be packing already, no, for now you aren’t going anywhere young lady, the best thing we can do is get on with our lives and be there if and when the Peters need us.”
“But...”
“You might not realise it but me and your Dad fret about you and your sister all the time, every time you go training, shopping with your friends or just around to Connie. Its part of being a parent, your Aunt Carol is just the same and she wouldn’t want you gallivanting half way across Europe on a wild goose chase.”
Whilst I sort of got that, it still feels off not to be doing anything, to be carrying on as if nothing is wrong. Mum held me tight and I had a few little sobs, what if something horrible has happened? I mean you hear about these things, you just never imagine that it’ll be someone you know, let alone a relation.
“You alright Gab?” Hannah enquired, “you’re a bit quiet tonight.”
“Er yeah, I’m fine, just a bit distracted.”
Yep, Mum all but forced me to come to Cheer, people relying on me and all that blah.
“Boyfriend?”
“No, no, we’re fine, its my cousin in England, she went missing at the weekend.”
I started to sniffle, the prelude to more sobbing.
“Come on, in the office,” she told me before calling out, “Lisse, can you take over for a minute please.”
I sipped more of the water I found myself holding as I once again found myself the subject of a motherly hug.
“Better?” Han asked.
“A bit, I just feel so useless.”
“Gaby Bond, you are far from useless but at the minute there’s nothing you can do on a practical level so you just need to be positive, be there for your other friends, be strong for your Tante und Onkel.”
Wise words but easier said than done. Oh I know its not my fault or anything like that but we used to be like brother and sister, well sister and sister a lot of the time I guess and whilst I’m close to Con and Mand and even Jules, well it was different with Mad. What happened to that, when did I stop being her go to shoulder?
I’d barely got indoors when my Handy started chirping, it took me a moment to locate it, I didn’t recognise the number, no one I know then.
“Abent, wie sind Sie?”
“Gab?”
“Ja, wo ist das?”
“Gab, its me, Mad,” the voice advised
“Mad, thank Gott, where the hell are you, have you rung home?”
“Germany,” she stated
“Germany?”
“Well some place called Altenahr to be precise,” she told me.
“How, no don’t bother, stay there, we’ll come and get you, where exactly are you?”
“At the station.”
“Stay put, we’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.”
“Thanks Gab,” she sniffed in reply.
“Just stay there,” I ordered before it went silent at the other end.
“Mum! Dad!” I shouted down the stairs.
“You don’t have to shout kiddo,” Dad advised poking his head into the stairwell.
“Its Mad, she’s in Altenahr,” I replied as I did the herd of elephants thing back down the stairs.
“Whoa, slow down,” he suggested as I skidded to a halt in the main hallway.
“She just rang, she’s in Altenahr, at the bahnhof!”
“You sure?” Mum queried joining us.
“Hundred percent, I said we’d fetch her, quick, please?”
“I’ll go,” Dad stated already reaching for his shoes.
“Take my car, I’ll ring Carol,” Mum stated lifting the house phone from its cradle
“I’m going too,” I told them.
“Shoes then missy,” Dad suggested as he retrieved the A Klasse’s key fob.
“They found her?” Mand queried from the landing above us.
“She’s here, we’re just gonna fetch her.”
“I’ll get the kettle on.”
The two of us pretty much ran out to the car and Dad had us moving before I even had my seat belt on. Dad’s usually the more sober driver but hidden inside is Michael Schumacher!
“Slow down Dad,” I requested as we turned onto the Rotweinstraße with a squeal of tyres.
“Sorry kiddo, so how’d she get here?”
“No idea, she just said where she was before the money ran out.”
“Which is?”
“At the bahnhof, I said before.” I pointed out.
There wasn’t much traffic as we retraced the road we’d come down just a few minutes ago. Its not far but its quite twisty, the Mercedes is however a lot faster than the camper so we emerged from the tunnel barely five minutes after I finished speaking with Maddy. Its always a dodgem run through the town, a slalom through parked cars and then we were crossing the bridge.
“There she is!”
“I see her,” Dad replied barely pausing to cross onto the station apron.
I had my seatbelt off and halfway out of the door before we stopped.
“Mad!” I called as I ran over.
“Gab?” she queried looking up from her ball of hurt.
“Who else dumbo,” I stated pulling her into a tight hug.
“Oh Gab,” she blubbed.
I held her tightly barely aware of Dad coming up behind me.
“Come on kiddo, lets get her home, you okay Maddy?”
I released my grip and stood back as she nodded vigorously.
“Gab, get her bag,” Dad told me, “come on missy, you okay to walk to the car?”
“Uh huh Unc.”
“Come on then,” Dad helped her up and into the car while I followed with her bag before climbing into the back beside her where I pulled her into another hug.
Dad got back in, “belts kiddo.”
I sorted us out before resuming an awkward hug for the slightly longer journey back to Chez Bond.
Maddy Bell © 30.07.2018
Back at Castle Bond we got Mad inside before she was engulfed in a hug from Mum.
“Tea anyone?” Mand asked.
“Better?” Mum asked when my cousin sheepishly returned to the lounge.
“A bit,” she agreed.
She certainly looked – and smelt better than when we picked her up, her own clothes were already in the washer so I donated a pair of pyjamas for tonight, we’ll worry about tomorrow, well tomorrow. Whilst she was getting cleaned up we’d had a quick family conference, there was to be no inquisition, the fact she was safe being more important than how she got here.
“You want that cuppa now? Or anything to eat?” Mater offered.
“I could murder a sandwich or something, I’ve not eaten since lunchtime.”
“Something coming up,” I told her, “anyone else?”
“No thanks kiddo,” Dad replied.
“I should ring mum,” Mad suggested.
“When you’re ready, she knows you’re safe with us here.”
“Need a hand?” Mand asked joining me in the kitchen.
“You could slice some bread.”
“’kay, wonder where she’s been?”
“Looked like she’s been hiking or something,” I allowed cracking a couple of eggs into a bowl – I reckon bacon and eggs will work better than a plain old sandwich. “you want some of this?”
“Guess I could manage a bit. How do you suppose she got to Germany?”
“No idea.”
“You want some more of that?” I hadn’t really wanted anything to eat myself but it sort of felt less, I dunno, weird to join Mad and Mand in eating, maybe less awkward for my cousin too.
Mad looked at her plate, “there any more bacon?”
“I’ll fetch it,” Mand offered.
“Thanks,” my cousin allowed.
The inevitable phone call to England was made, I know its rude to eavesdrop but we were all in the living room. Not that it amounted to much more than more sniffling from Mad with the occasional ‘yes’ and ‘no’ to the unheard English side of the conversation.
“Yes mum, love you too,” she passed the handset to Mum who had a much shorter exchange before ending the call.
“Well I don’t know about you lot but I’m sure Maddy could do with a bed?” Dad suggested.
“And someone has an important meeting tomorrow,” Mum hinted at me.
“I know,” I sighed, I am so not looking forward to that.
“You alright on your own Maddy?”
“Think so.”
“In that case Juliette’s bed is made up, Gab’ll show you where everything is.”
“So you alright?” I asked after explaining the vagaries of my sisters coven.
“Better for seeing you guys.”
“Well I ought to go to bed too.”
“Your meeting?”
“Yeah, I’ve got to register for college,” I sighed, “look, if you want anything I’m just up the stairs right.”
“Okay, thanks Gab.”
“Sleep well, nite.”
“Nite.”
You think I could sleep? We might have ‘rescued’ my cousin but I couldn’t help still thinking about her. How did she come to be in Germany, what has she been doing, where has she been for the last three days. So far she’s not said anything and I know Mum doesn’t want to push her but enquiring minds and all that.
Of course the important thing is she’s safe now.
“Urgh,” I allowed with a stretch, “mornin’”
“I hope you’re putting something else on to go to Koblenz,” Mum opined.
Well I hadn’t planned on changing again, what's wrong with shorts and a vest top?
“Course, we’re not going yet.”
“Hmmm.”
“Mad still in bed?”
“Not everyone has to be up to be at work for eight,” Mum pointed out.
“Wish I didn’t have to,” I grumped.
“So what about having to get to college? Its what, an hour and a half on the train, you’ll need to be out of the house at seven.”
“I’m getting a lift with Max and Freddy.”
“Oh? When did this happen?”
“I did say last week, Freddy’s brother works for the regional government.”
“Fair enough, if the von Strechau’s are okay with it I guess I am.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and dropped some bread in the toaster.
“So what's gonna happen with Mad?”
“You’re Aunt is coming over today, I guess they’ll go back to Warsop tomorrow.”
“Does Mad know? I mean, if she was running away she might not want to go back.”
“No one’s going to force her,” Mum told me, “if she doesn’t want to go straight back, she doesn’t have to okay. Hopefully we’ll get more of the story today.”
“I guess,” I allowed.
“Um, I’m not disturbing anything am I?”
The toast chose that moment to pop up, “er toast?”
I was not a happy bunny, number one I’m over dressed and number two Mum’s driving down the A61 like its the Hockenheim Ring! Its bad enough in the A Klasse but now she’s talking about getting a Porsche, I hope Dad manages to talk her out of that. As for how I’m dressed, ‘you need to make the right impression’, yeah, like the admin staff are gonna really be bothered how I’m dressed.
At least I managed to keep out of my ‘business’ suit, there is just no way I was wearing hose and heels today, I still look smart, just not like a banker.
“You got everything?”
“Yes Mum,” I sighed, “all in here,” I patted my new ‘gift from Gran’ briefcase cum satchel thing sat between my legs.
“You want me to come in with you?”
well it would be nice to have a hand to hold.
“No thanks, i’m a big girl now.”
“Hmm, you might be sixteen but that doesn’t mean you have to be too independent you know?”
“I know, but I’m gonna be on my own when I start so I might as well practice today.”
“Okay, well I’ll drop you at the college then, ring me when you’re done and I’ll come and pick you up.”
“I can come find you in town,” I offered as we changed motorways to drop into Koblenz, anyone else would slow down on the three sixty turn, I’d swear Mum was accelerating all the way!
“We can decide when you ring.”
“So what’re you doing,” I asked, curious but not really that interested.
“Boring meeting with the bank then I need some ‘personal’ stuff, you need anything?”
Really? talk about embarrassing, its bad enough I need the stuff, to have Mum asking about it is just so, well not right.
“I’m fine.”
We dropped off the autobahn onto Bonner Straße and less than five minutes later I was climbing out of the car outside of the Business Schools imposing main entrance.
“See you later kiddo, break a leg,” she called through the open window.
Hmm, wonder if that would get me out of coming?
“I’m only registering,” I pointed out.
“Ring when you’re done.”
“I will, tschuss.”
“Tschussie!”
With that she was gone leaving me wondering what the hell I was doing stood here. I straightened my skirt and adjusted my blouse and with a deep breath started up the steps to the entrance. There were a surprising number of people about considering term doesn’t start for nearly a fortnight – I guess there’s stuff to do before us students arrive en masse.
“Erm, hello?”
I stood nervously in front of the reception desk, currently devoid of any staff.
“Just a minute,” a voice sang out from the open doorway behind.
I checked my letter of acceptance again while I waited, Gabrielle Bond, Hospitality Management, tutor Fr. Olafsdottir – does that mean she’s foreign, doesn’t sound very German.
“Damned printer, you can guarantee it runs out of toner halfway through any run,” a middle aged woman advised as she appeared stripping a pair of those disposable gloves from her hands, “what can I help you with?”
“Erm, I’m here to register? I was supposed to come the other week but I was away and they said I could do it today,” I got out without drawing breath.
“Slow down, deep breath,” she suggested, “register you say, which course is it Fraulein?”
“Er Hospitality Management?” I offered my acceptance letter.
“Lets see,” she flicked a diary thing open and ran her finger down the page, pausing a couple of times to check my letter again. “okay Miss Bondt, I’ll just ring your tutor and we’ll soon have you sorted out, have a seat, it might take a few minutes to pin her down.”
“Um thanks.”
There were a few of those ‘designed to be uncomfortable’ modular seats across the atrium so I walked over and perched myself to wait. At least it was cool in here, the hum of the air conditioning a continuous drone in the otherwise quiet space. Hmmph, bit different to the clamour and heat of Silverberg Gymnasiums public areas – I guess when classes are in its different.
I think I’d been sat for about ten minutes before I saw a tall, dark women talking with the receptionist woman. Is that Frau Olafsdottir? They talked for a moment but the woman departed without as much as a glance in my direction, so I nearly jumped out of my skin when a voice addressed me.
“Gabrielle? Sorry I didn’t mean to make you jump, you are Gabrielle Bond?”
I took a breath to calm down, “yes that's me.”
“Lisbet Olafsdottir, pleased to meet you.”
I scrambled to my feet, “er how do you do?”
“I’m well but why so formal? Anyway, come on, I have coffee in my office, you take coffee?”
“Um yes Fraulein.”
“Lisbet please, there is a time for formality, today is not it, come.”
Well that's me told. If anyone had asked I would’ve guessed my tutor would’ve dressed more formally too, maybe a suit or something fairly neutral but this woman, Lisbet, was wearing a floaty, pastel yellow shapeless cotton sort of romper thing, bare legs and flat sandals. Certainly not what I would’ve expected.
“So you are looking forward to coming?” she asked leading the way through one of those card locked doors into a corridor heading back into the building.
“I’m not really sure, I’m not even sure why I’m doing this course,” I admitted trying to push the door shut.
“Oh leave that, they close eventually, well that's a refreshingly honest answer, we’ll stop at the office and get your passes sorted then we’ll get that coffee and have a chat okay?”
“Er yeah, I mean yes Frau, sorry, Lisbet.”
“Come then,” she pushed a door open and led me into a hive of activity.
Maddy Bell © 06.08.2018
It didn’t take long to get my documentation sorted, the longest bit was getting my student ID card made up. The picture on the plastic card wasn’t great and only vaguely looks like me and for some reason my nose stud looks like its huge, I really should’ve taken it out but what’s done is done. The rest of the stuff was timetables and other stuff related to the course and the obligatory college rule book!
Paperwork sorted Lisbet led me further into the maze of offices, classrooms and lecture theatres that make up most places of further education. I tried to keep track of our route but I was lost well before my tutor unlocked a door and ushered me into a tidy but not manically so office. There was the distinct smell of coffee, hmm smells like a dark roast, not my favourite but gift horses and all that.
“Find yourself a seat,” Lisbet suggested pointing to one of those function over form wooden framed sofas – you know the things, maybe a bit low and just enough comfort.
“Um thanks.”
“Cream, sugar?”
“Both please.”
I was still trying to find a comfortable spot on the sofa when she handed me a beaker of ‘still dark despite the creamer’ caffeine heavy beverage. She grabbed a folder from her desk then plonked herself into one of the side chairs. I nervously took a sip from the mug, a bit bitter but it took my mind off the waiting.
“So Fraulein Gabrielle Bond, or do you prefer something else?”
“Most people call me Gaby or Gabs,” I suggested.
“Works for me, so Gaby, I know what it says in here,” she waved the folder, “but facts and figures don’t tell me who you are. I like to know where my students are coming from, when I know that, we all benefit.
So tell me about Gaby Bond, what she does away from the education system, hobbies, jobs, career plans, you tell me.”
Where do you start and what do you include? It would be easy to sound like a braggart, I guess I should start with the basics.
“So I live with my parents in the Ahrtal, Mum’s a professional Fahrradrenerin with Apollinaris, Dad runs the junior team that I race for.”
“Do you enjoy that,” Lisbet interrupted, “how do you feel about your parents careers?”
“I guess I enjoy it, I’ve been riding for like ever and I’m pretty good I guess.”
“Your old head mistress mentions you are a Radrennen Weltmeisterin, that sounds more than pretty good?”
“I guess,” I allowed, “guess its in the blood.”
“So what do you think about your parents careers? Is cycling a career for you do you think?”
“Mum’s always raced, she’s been world champion twice now, it would be pretty cool to follow in her wheel tracks, she used to be a teacher before she went pro so she’s always on at me and my sister about getting a good education.”
“Your sister, you didn’t mention her before.”
“Jules, she pretty much lives with her boyfriend up in Bonn, she starts university this year.”
“Sounds like she’s quite grounded?”
“Not really, if anything she’s the black sheep, always pushing Mum and Dad’s patience.”
“You don’t?”
“Maybe sometimes,” I agreed, “I don’t mean to.”
“So apart from the cycling, what else does Gaby Bond get up to?”
“Not a lot really, me and Con run our own snack kiosk, well I guess its mostly Connie’s, her parents put up most of the money.”
“That sounds interesting, how's that going?”
“Okay I guess, we’ve been a bit ahead all summer but I guess the winter, without all the tourists will be the acid test.”
“You enjoy doing that?”
“Its okay, not sure I’d want to be cooking würst the rest of my life though.”
“So what about relaxing? The cycling and kiosk is all work, what do you do to relax?”
Good question.
“Well I coach the Tanzklub cheerleaders and go to Garde.”
“Cheerleaders I know but what is Garde?”
“Its sort of very formalised formation ‘dancing’ stuff with a sort of military base? Its difficult to describe really.”
“Like the ball room dancing?”
“More line dancing than Beethoven,” I chuckled.
“Sounds like a busy life.”
I shrugged, “I guess.”
“A little bird has suggested you sing too?”
“Well not exactly formally, me and the other Angels have got conned into doing the Weihnachts concerts a few times.”
“You like formal music?”
“Its okay, I’m more of a rock chick really, when I sing with Stefan its mostly like old school rock.”
“Stefan’s your boyfriend?”
“That’d be Max, no Stefan’s the singer with BlauHase, we’ve done a few gigs together.”
“You sing with a band?”
“Well only a few times, it was pretty cool singing at Moselfest,” I bragged.
“You sang there? I thought that was all professional bands?”
“Were you there?” I asked.
“I’m more Abba than Queen, no my neighbour was there, kept raving about some singer going by what was it now, Kirsch?”
“Gaby Erdbeere,” I suggested.
“That was it, you saw her too?”
you could pretty much see the blocks all falling into place, no doubt aided by the blush rising across my face.
“Frau Boxberg didn’t mention that in her transfer notes.”
“It was kinda after I left Silverberg,” I suggested.
“Interesting choice of name?”
“The hair,” I advised pulling my pony over my shoulder to display my now very much faded pink locks.
“Interesting colour,” she noted.
“It was only supposed to be temporary, to match my prom dress,” I told her with a sigh.
“And you are not such a fan?”
“It has got a bit old but I guess I’m sort of used to it now. I won’t get into trouble over it will I?”
“Not from me, some of the faculty might not like it but this is college not high school, as long as you turn up and do the work, how you look is your choice. On the other hand your year two placement might not go so easily if you present too, how do you say, left field.”
“Don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
“For what its worth Gaby, the pink suits you well.”
“Erm thanks Lisbet.”
We chatted about this and that for a bit but I guess we’d been talking for long enough, I was certainly a lot less stressed when she asked, “so is there anything you need to know before term starts?”
“Erm, I’m going to the World Championships next week, in Canada, am I gonna miss much?”
Tthe office have put a note on your file, its not every day they have someone representing the country at the highest levels,” she smiled, “no you won’t miss anything important, there’s a bit of reading and a business pop quiz but with your history you’d ace that anyway.”
“’kay, I don’t want to start on the wrong foot.”
“You’ll be fine Gaby, so you back home now?”
“Once i’ve found Mum.”
“You okay finding your way out?”
“Not really,” I admitted, “I sort of lost track on the way up.
“You’ll soon get the hang of the place, so if you go…...”
I emerged from a side door, much closer to Lisbet’s office than the main reception and according to my tutor I can get in this way too by swiping my ID card. That card is gonna be essential to do anything, access the building, use the library and that's only at college. it’ll also be my key to accessing all those student discounts you see advertised all over the place, wonder if they do student discount at the model shop?
That's for another day though, best find Mum now.
One advantage of coming with Mum is that she stumps up for dinner even if its just a visit to the cafe down at the Deutches Eck. I found a table in the shade while Mater went to order and set myself so I could watch the river traffic. There’s something quite restful about watching the barges plying the waters, I was well engrossed watching a tanker make the turn into the Mosel when Mum plonked our drinks on the table.
“So you all sorted out.”
“Yeah,” I allowed after sipping at my Sprite®.
“Did you meet your tutor then?” Mum enquired.
“Uh huh, Lisbet’s pretty cool, we talked for ages.”
“First names?”
“Its a college not kindergarten,” I spouted.
“I guess so,” she allowed, “so did you find out what you’ll be doing on the course?”
It only hit me then that despite chatting with Lisbet for best part of an hour, she’d found out all about me and I’d found out, well nothing, nada.
“Have you heard from Aunt Carol, is she coming?” I asked to avoid answering.
“She spoke to your Dad just after we left, she couldn’t get a flight today so she won’t get here until tomorrow lunch time.”
“Bummer, so Mad’ll be here a bit longer?”
“Until Thursday I’d guess, what’re you planning?”
“Nothing.”
“
"Hmmm.”
“How do you think she got to Germany Mum?”
“Maddy?”
“Who else?”
“No idea, I’d like to hear the how of that myself.”
“Bum, I should ring Helen, let her know we found her.”
“I’m sure the Peters will have let everyone know she’s safe,” Mum pointed out.
“I should still ring.”
“Well it’ll wait until after we’ve eaten, looks like our food’s coming now.”
I barely got in the door before de Vreen was on my case, “we going training or what?”
“I guess, where’s Maddy?”
“Pretending to sleep upstairs, she doesn’t say much does she?”
Doesn’t sound like the Maddy Peters I used to know, she was always the gobby one but I guess people can change, I mean just look at me.
“Probably still tired.”
“Maybe,” a clearly unconvinced Mand allowed, “so we going training?”
“What’s the rush, we don’t usually go till like four?”
“Eva wants me to go in early, there’s a do tonight.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
“I just did.”
“Best get ready then,” I suggested.
Mum came in as Mand departed.
“Thought you’d have the kettle on.”
“No time, we’re straight off training.”
“Guess I’ll stay with your cousin then, talking of which where is she?”
“Upstairs apparently.”
“Here, take these up with you,” she thrust a bag at me.
“What is it?”
“They had an offer on, its not like they go out of date.”
I peered into the bag, “Mu-um.”
“They are the ones you use right?”
“Yes,” I sighed.
“Just thank your Mum and take them upstairs.”
Maddy Bell © 06.08.2018
“Gott, I hate coming this way,” Mand moaned as we started the climb up towards Esch, you know, where Anna and her mum live.
I let out a giggly snort at that.
“What?” she demanded.
“Nothing.”
“There so is Bond.”
“Honest its nothing really, its just you are getting good at Germlish.”
“Germlish?”
“You know, mixing German and English up?” I suggested.
“I don’t.”
“You do,” I confirmed.
“Well if I do its you and the girls fault,” she huffed.
“I never said it was a problem, if anything its cute.”
“Cute?”
“Makes you fit in too,” I added tapping the gear shifter to go down a gear.
“Hmmph!”
Why are we going this way? Well he might not be going to Canada but that doesn’t mean he’s not involved. Far from it, it was hardly a surprise when we checked the training schedule in the workshop that our usual Tuesday ride up around the ‘Ring had been replaced by the somewhat flatter terrain to the north behind Bonn.
Its not an area I know particularly well, Dad even pinned up a sort of route card so we don’t get lost. Essentially we go north via Rheinbach, loop around Phantasialand then return south through Allter and Meckenheim. According to Dad’s note its the same length as the Worlds course and at a hundred and five K, almost spot on the race distance.
We made short work of the road up to Anna’s place – I can recall pushing the Schauff up here a few times, then quickly fell into a comfortable road eating pace as we headed across to Vettelhoven. I say comfortable, its in the high twenties, nudging low thirties at times, the upper end of conversation speed.
“How’d you reckon she got here?”
“Hmm?” I’d been contemplating what to cook for dinner this evening.
“Your cousin, how’d she get to Altenahr?”
“She hasn’t said,” I pointed out.
“There’s something weird about it.”
“Weird?”
“Yeah, you don’t just disappear from Yorkshire and appear in Germany three days later.”
“Maybe she found a Star Trek® transporter?”
“Hello, reality check Bond.”
“Well if you’re so clever, what's your theory then?”
“Aliens? I dunno but you have to admit its a poser.”
There’s no doubt about that.
“I’m sure she’ll tell us in her own time.”
“Maybe,” she allowed, “which way?”
“Left, takes us straight up to Rheinbach.”
“You all sorted for college?” my companion asked as we took the turn that will take us past Phantasialand, best bit of fifty kilometres into our ride.
Its a bit strange following the signs for the theme park and it not being our destination, we’ll have to organise an Angels trip up here once we’re all settled into our new schooling regimes. Not that I’m big on doing all the rides and stuff but we’ve always had a good laugh when we’ve been before, I think the last time was for that cosplay thing.
“Gab?” Mand prompted.
“Er oh yeah, we’ll have to come up with the girls to Phantasialand.”
“Where did that come from?”
“Well we’ve not really done anything together for ages.”
“Right, so school?”
“What about it?”
“Geez Gab, do you ever listen? Are you all sorted?”
“Think so, Max has got us sorted for a lift down each day with Olaf, Freddie’s brother.”
“Thought Max was doing engineering?”
“He is, the Business School is only a few minutes walk away from the technical college.”
“Handy,” she smirked.
“Well it’ll save getting up for two trains,” I agreed.
“Not exactly what I meant, you said a lift down, how’re you getting home?”
I allowed a shrug, “train I guess, so what about you? You are going back?”
“Yeah, your Rents can be quite persuasive.”
“So what courses you doing?”
“A level History and English and Gcse German.”
“Wotcha want to do German for, you already speak it pretty well.”
“Hardly well, I can’t read much and I really have no clue when it comes to writing stuff.”
“Guess it can be a bit confusing but why?”
“Well if I’m gonna be spending more time here it’d be nice to actually understand a bit more, you know like when I’m working at Der Mühle actually holding a conversation.”
“Guess that makes sense, so when do you start back?”
“Next Tuesday, they get the lower school sorted before the seniors go back.”
“You gonna be okay?”
“I can’t hide forever.”
Once clear of Bruhl we cut the chat in favour of upping the tempo with about ten K of through and off, a hard effort that saw us in Alfter a bit light of fifteen minutes later. The traffic was a bit heavier this close to Bonn so we eased off to thread our way through the connurbation, how people ride in traffic all the time I’ll never know. It wasn’t long until we returned to open roads though, the road rolling south towards Meckenheim, wide and well surfaced for the most part.
We didn’t need to go right into the town, instead we bypassed that, going through the growing housing developments east of the town. Eighty kilometres down, less than thirty left, we eased off a bit, fishing out some snack food to get us back to Dernau. Reminds me, I need to make another batch of Bond’s special flapjack, might be worth taking some to Canada, better check I’ve got enough oats and stuff when we get back.
Its not been too warm, more than a few clouds keeping the sun largely at bay but as we took the turn at Oeverich that takes us down into the Ahrtal the wind started to rise bringing some ominous looking skies in its wake. A kilometre later the first spots of liquid sunshine darkened the road, first slowly then we were pretty much drowned as a sheet of wet enveloped us. We pushed on to the bridge under the A61 where we both gratefully pulled up in the dry but windy portal.
“We waiting it out?” i queried.
“I really need to get back,” Mand sighed.
“Two minutes?” I suggested.
“We are already drenched,” she pointed out.
“Why’d it have to rain?”
“Looks like blue sky following behind,” de Vreen observed as she pulled her race cape out of her jersey pocket.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “flippin’ weather.”
I pulled my own jacket on and with the wet still falling we set off from our shelter. I’m sure riding in the wet can be fine but I’m not a fan and the line of wet arcing from my front tyre back into my face wasn’t doing anything to endear the pastime to me now either. The descent through Lantershofen was a bit greasy which kept our speed in check and under the law of Sod we’d no sooner joined the Ahrweiler bypass than the wet ceased and at Silverberg the road was bone dry!
“What happened to you guys?” Maddy asked as we dripped into the kitchen.
“Damp stuff from the sky?” I suggested.
“Gabrielle Bond!” Mum snapped from behind us, shower, change, now!”
“Mu-um,” I complained, “I was gonna make a brew.”
“And you Amanda, I’ve only just done this floor.”
Oops!
It was nearly fifteen minutes later when I returned to the kitchen, de-grimed and dressed for polite company.
“Tea in the pot,” Maddy offered clutching her own mug.
“Cool,” my stomach interrupted with a rumble, “anything to eat?”
“It’ll be dinner soon,” Mater replied.
“Not for ages, I’ve not even decided what to do yet.”
“We’re going up to Rech to eat as soon as your Dad gets back.”
“Where is he anyway?” I queried, he’s usually waiting for us to get back from training.
“Sorting out something with the house in Niederbeiber before he hands the keys back tomorrow.”
A cog finally engaged, “Rech, the Stube?”
“The Schloss, I was talking to Gloria earlier and she invited us all up.”
“I’d best change then,” I sighed, shorts and a T won’t exactly cut it at the von Strechau gaff.
“I’m off then,” Mand called from the hall.
“You need picking up?” Mum enquired.
“No thanks, Jurgen will drop me back after, tschuss!”
“Laters,” I called back as de Vreen set off for the Express,
“Who’s Jurgen?” Mum asked.
“Chris’s dad I think, so, full royalty?”
“Smart will do.”
“Er what about me?” Mad queried.
“Hmm, see if you can find your cousin something as well kiddo.”
“You’d best come up to the boudoir,” I suggested.
“Your boobs are bigger than mine,” I opined a few minutes later as I shuffled stuff in my closet.
“Only one size, so this restaurant is a bit fancy?”
“Could say that,” I dismissed another frock for Mad, its tight on me, so big boobs wouldn’t stand a chance, “s’not a restaurant though.”
“It isn’t?”
“If Gloria’s invited us we’re going to the house.”
“And they’re a bit posh?”
“Could say that,” I agreed.
“And this Gloria, who is she?”
I decided to wind my cousin up a bit, “Baroness von Strechau, Max’s mum.”
“And Max is?”
“My boyfriend.”
“Boyfriend! Since when do you have a boyfriend?”
Good question and its a sign of how far Mad and I have drifted apart that she hasn’t heard about Max. Mind you I was denying our relationship for over a year even if everyone in the Ahrtal seemed to know about it.
“A while.”
“So what’s he like?”
“Looks like you’ll be meeting him later, how about this?” I held up a less form fitting frock, nice but not too nice if you know what I mean.
“You’re the expert Gab, I can’t believe how many clothes you’ve got, I think I’ve got like four dresses altogether.”
I shrugged, “I guess I do have quite a lot, here you’d best wear these too,” I told her waving a pair of shoes towards her.
“You got anything without a heel?”
“Think I’ve got some flats somewhere.”
Maddy Bell © 17.08.2018
“No Manda?” Dad queried taking in the assembled femininity waiting for him in the lounge.
“Working remember,” I advised.
“Course, so you ladies ready?”
“As soon as you’ve changed,” Mum insisted.
She can be such a snob at times.
Of course unlike us ‘ladies’ Dad was showered and changed in about five minutes flat. Mum had already turned the A Klasse round so once we were loaded we were straight off, its not far of course but even so Mad was gripping the door handle tightly by the time we bumped into the courtyard of Schloss Rech.
“When your mum said schloss earlier,” Mad whispered as we got out of the car.
“She really meant the Schloss, its a real, hundred percent German castle,” I grinned.
“You weren’t winding me up were you?”
“Nope.”
“Come on you two,” Mum chivvied.
Of course in my attempt at one upmanship I’ve got ten centimetre heels on which I was already regretting as even just a few steps across the cobbles became potential ankle breakers. I know, i’ve done it before, I should know better but, well you know what its like right? Anyhow, somehow I reached the door without breaking me or my heels where Gloria was already greeting my parents.
“No Baroness?” Mum queried once we reached the parlour where she can usually be found holding court.
“At Rothenburg thankfully,” Gloria told us with a grin.
There was no sign of Max either, disapointment must have shown on my face as Gloria went on, “don’t worry Gaby, he’ll be here in a moment, he’s just helping Willie in the kitchen. So you must be Madeline?”
If there’s one thing you can say about Gloria its that she is very, er tactful. I guess with a family like the von Strechau’s its either that or be constantly putting your foot in it. I mean, just how on earth do you keep up with the personal lives of the entire German aristocracy?
Well I’m sure Mum had filled her in on things earlier, certainly no mention was made of how Mad ended up in the Ahrtal. If anything it was as though she had been expected that the whole thing was something that had been planned. By the time Max joined us with a tray of, i’m pretty sure non alcoholic, aperitifs, my cousin was relaxed enough to allow a giggle when Max did that heel clicking thing when I introduced them.
Of course, with Wilhelm being a chef you can guarantee any meal at the Schloss will be excellent. None of your boring schnitzel and pommes that's for sure and tonight we were treated to a chilled Spargel soup as starter followed by Gefüllte Kalbsbrust with minted taters, string beans and buttered baby carrots with a sweet berry Ju. Okay it sounds a bit posh, it looked a bit posh and i’m sure if we’d been in Willie’s restaurant it would have cost about thirty euros a pop but we’re not and it tasted even better for being free!
Father and son were back in the kitchen collecting the dessert – I did volunteer to help but apparently von Strechau women are banned from the Schloss kitchen – guess I can live with that.
“Gaby,” Gloria got my attention, “tomorrow, i’ll pick you up at nine, we can get some lunch before the show.”
Tomorrow, bum its that stupid fashion show thing.
“Erm, okay, that’ll be lovely thank you.”
“My pleasure, it’ll be nice to show you off, it gets a bit long having all the hoi polloi from the Eifel hinting that various daughters or nieces are ‘available’.
Its times like this that i’m never quite sure how to take Gloria, I know last year in Munich I was invited along as a decoy. Of course that sort of backfired, Sophia isn’t interested in becoming the next Baroness von Strechau and somehow the two of us have ended up friends. Not that I think Max was really aware of his mothers machinations but you know how that turned out.
Since then of course there was the Bonn wedding and of course Sara’s rather rushed affair in Stuttgart both of which I attended with Max as his ‘official’ love interest. Hey i’m not complaining, what with free designer frocks and five star food a girl could get used to it all. And now i’m demoted to decoy again, or that's what it sounds like – well its not like I want to be a Baroness either is it?
Wilhelm is a rarity amongst Germans, he likes dessert and not your soppy berry compote or lump of strudel. No Willie is a man after the Bond family’s collective heart and this evening wasn’t going to disapoint. Father and son returned, one bearing dishes and a jug of cream, the other with a plate with a scrumptious looking summer pudding on it.
“Hope you’ve all got some space for dessert,” the Baron queried.
“Well i’m not on a diet,” Mum quipped.
If i’d been full to the gills I would’ve still forced some of this beauty down.
“Are those guys for real?” Mad asked as she ‘helped’ me with the cocoa.
“Eh?”
“They were talking about Prince William and Kate?”
“The Windsors,” I shrugged, “they were at that wedding I told you about in Munich.”
“You never said Prince William was there.”
I didn’t tell you I danced with him either!
“There were lots of people there, it was a big wedding.”
“Gloria was talking about them like they’re just ordinary.”
“I guess when you’re related somehow its different to just seeing stuff on the telly, fetch us the tray over.”
“’spose so.” she allowed passing me the tray. “so whats this thing you’re going to tomorrow?”
"Envelope on the board, top right.”
“This one?”
I looked over, “uh huh.”
There was a long pause, “you’re kidding me, Dolce and Gabana?”
“Nope, straight up.”
“Let me get this right, my dweeby cousin got an invite to a D&G fashion show, just when did you become a fashion diva?”
“I didn’t, can you get the cups please.”
“So just how did you get an invite, I get Gloria, she’s got a title and everything but you’re just, well no offense Gab, but you are just a schoolgirl.”
“A well connected schoolgirl?” I suggested, “i’m not just a schoolgirl you know.”
“I’ll give you that.”
“Come on, you can bring the biscuits through.”
“You got time for coffee?” Mum asked as I lowered myself carefully onto a kitchen chair.
“Half a cup, Gloria’s always a bit early.”
In truth I could’ve done with about three cups not half, i’ve been up for hours getting ready for todays ‘excitement’. Shower, powder, primp, dress – Mand’s done my hair in some fancy chignon thing, i’ve got Mum’s diamond studs in and my diamond nose pin – well its sort of my signature thing now. Yeah, I look like a right, I dunno, diva.
“Gab?”
“That’s me,” I allowed to Mads query.
“My god, what happened to my dweeby cousin who wouldn’t even wear a dress?”
“To be fair Mad, I thought I was a boy.”
“If you say so.”
“Hmmph!”
“Those fashion types won’t know whats hit them.”
“Knowing her luck she’ll have a modeling contract by the time she gets back here,” Mand opined.
“Talk rot,” I retorted.
“So your cousin said anything, about how she got here,” Gloria quizzed as we drove up the valley.
“Nothing,” I admitted, “her mum’s arriving today so maybe she’ll tell Aunt Carol.”
“Its certainly a mystery, she looks like you’re twin,” she suggested.
“I guess,” which brought to mind when we pretended to be each other in America that time. Talk about weird, in the end it was the extra piercing in my ear which gave us away – huh, there’s a bit more difference theses days but I guess we still look pretty similar, not like a mirror image but at least close relations.
“So um, what happens at these things?” I requested.
“At the show? Well we sit and watch the long sticks parade up and down, applaud politely and make good with the hospitality.”
“Exciting – not.”
“Oh I don’t know, the gifts are generally pretty good and the photographers take as many shots of the audience as the models.”
“Joy.”
Gloria chuckled, “You make a very good cover girl, how many times on Stern?”
“Three,” I sighed, not exactly keen to add to the tally.
Its about a hundred and twenty kilometres as the crow flies from Dernau to Trier and whilst there is motorway, Gloria kept us on the B roads. Of course i’ve travelled this route before, well we came this way on the way to Spain the other week not that I was taking much notice of the countryside. In fact it was only when Gloria parked us near the cablecar burg station that I recognised where we were.
“I don’t know how you walk in those shoes,” Gloria observed as we made our way across to the restaurant.
“Practice?” I suggested, “its the only way I can see in a crowd.”
“Well you have me there, exactly how tall are they?”
“Fourteen?”
“Sooner you than me.”
The restaurant was surprisingly busy – well I guess its a nice day, plenty of touristos, we might struggle to get a table here.
“Madame,” the Maitre d’ greeted.
“We have a table booked, von Strechau,” Gloria told him.
“Of course,” he quickly checked his diary, “if you will follow me please.”
“What are they looking at?” I hissed to my benefactor, “have I got something on my face?
Gloria might call a slither of poached salmon with some garden weeds lunch but I was looking with, I hope hidden desire the plates other diners were consuming.
“I think, Gabrielle dearest, that we, well you really are the subject of their attention, you really do look beautiful today.”
“Thought I should make a bit of an effort.”
“Well you always look nice, but today spectacular.”
I don’t, as you know, do praise very well, I just hope no one can see my blushing through the layers of slap.
The show was never going to be in the exhibition centre or some school hall, no of course not. We made the short drive down and across the river into the city proper where Gloria took us into the centre to park by the Kaiserthermen. I sort of recognised where we were from coming before to race – not that I really saw that much then.
We walked towards the centre proper, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when Gloria directed me towards the Basilica, the huge Roman church, the centrepiece of Roman Trier. What did surprise me was the number of photographers and I guess celeb spotters that we had to run the gauntlet of just to get into the building. Invitations were checked and we joined the herd of mostly women in an area which I guess you’d call hospitality.
Flutes of some fruit press stuff were thrust into hands, my eyes however were attracted to the tables sagging under their load of almost ignored nibbles.
“I need the facilities,” Gloria suggested.
“I’ll just be here somewhere,” and hopefully tucking into a few vol au vents.
“I shan’t be long.”
But of course fate had other ideas.
Maddy Bell © 17.08.2018
‘Dad’d like this place’, I mused to myself as I idly wandered further into the cavernous interior of the Basilica nibbling at the tiny quiche things I’d rescued from the buffet. Whoever came up with putting salmon, crème fraische and strawberries together was a genius! It was quieter here, the bustle and unthought platitudes of the invited guests just a murmur behind me.
The commercial bunfest was occupying but a tiny part of the interior, a larger curtained off area was no doubt enclosing the ‘show’ area but here, further into the nave, there was just me, a few folding chairs and the tapping of my heels. I sat carefully on one of the chairs before giving my calves and ankles a micro massage - I might be able to walk in these heels but I never said it was a comfortable experience.
“Gloria,” a nasal voice brayed, “on your own today? No mother in law?”
Gloria rolled her eyes before turning from the sink to greet her addressor, “Margareta, what a surprise,” not, “no mother is with my sister in Bavaria, I’ve brought the Gräfin Ahrweiler with me.”
Margareta Buchbinder was one of those women, a fellow student from Gloria’s days at Kassel University, new money but she really wanted to be old and as such is easily impressed by titles – even if they didn’t actually exist. Of course Max’s girlfriend didn’t really have a title but conferring one on her would have Buchbinder falling over herself. And whilst in the Ahrtal Gaby was referred to as the Prinzessin, bumping her too far up the social ladder would be too obvious, Gräfin Ahrweiler is just high enough and at the same time a coomon enough title to not be a too obvious fiction.
“Ah, the Gräfin,” Buchbinder allowed, “I don’t think we’ve met.”
“She is only sixteen, this is her first one of these – she was at München last year,” Gloria dropped in.
Of course everyone who counts was at that wedding, a point not lost on Margareta.
“I should of course pay my respects.”
“Of course,” Gloria smiled back, “i’ll be sure to introduce you.”
Of course when Gloria returned to the reception area there was no sign of the newly elevated ‘Gräfin Ahrweiler’, she had a soft spot for the girl, she has a heart of gold but the line about ‘ditzy blondes’ could’ve been written about her. Today the youngster looked every bit the sophisticated society beauty, neither model tall nor skinny but an innocent thrust into this world of landed gentry and nouveau riche. Certainly not your typical horse fixated member of society, she blushed at that last, she was as guilty of that as the rest.
She looked around the crowd, unlike the rest of the sycophants in their expensive but frankly boring outfits Gaby was far from in wall flower mode. No, she was wearing current season D&G™, if Gloria was right, the shoes didn’t look high street and Pfennig to the Mark her hose has to be Wolford too. In short she was hard to miss but of the youngster there was no sight.
Well she wasn’t in the toilets so she must be out here somewhere, but where?
“Fraulein?”
The voice broke into my wayward thoughts – nothing deep, just wondering what the heck I’m doing here, dressed like a turkey at a turkey conference before Weihnachts. Okay, bit deep but its nice in here, cool and quiet.
“Erm?”
“You are alright?” the priest chap enquired.
“Um yeah, just taking the weight off, not the most comfortable footwear,” I replied waggling a dainty foot, “erm, sorry if i’m not supposed to be here.”
“No you are fine, take as long as you want, you are here for the show?”
“How’d you know?”
“Well we don’t usually see such well dressed patrons unless there’s a wedding and rarely are they as beautiful.”
Hopefully the limited light hid my blush at his comment.
“I’m surprised you let them hold their show in here, didn’t think churches and commerce went together.”
“A sign of the times I fear, the church is expensive to maintain, they pay well and so for a day we join the band of Mamon, I’m sure our Lord understands and will forgive us.”
I’m far from a god botherer but if I was I think i’d go with that.
“Gabrielle!” a distant voice called into the cavern.
“Looks like I’ve been missed,” I allowed with a sigh.
The priest chap offered me a hand which, in these heels, I was quite happy to take to get upright.
“Thanks.”
“I hope you enjoy the show Gabrielle.”
“I’ll try,” hang on, how’d he know my name?
“Gaby, there you are,” Gloria mentioned, “I wondered where you’d gone, we need to take our seats for the presentation.”
“Er sorry, just enjoying the peace in here.”
“It is nice isn’t it. I think the last time I was here it was Max’s christening.”
We started back towards the commercial world.
“Its a long way from Rech,” I noted.
“Oh, back then we lived down here, Willie worked for Bayer, we only moved up to Rech when his father died, must be nearly fifteen years ago now.”
“The Baroness’s husband?”
“Yes,” she agreed, “he really was old school, he’d have hated the restaurant, especially it being in part of the family home.”
“I can sort of understand that.”
“Well I can’t say I was a hundred percent keen but needs must, we don’t have income like the Taxis or even my sisters lot. Oh by the way, you’re the Gräfin Ahrweiler for today.
“I am?”
“I’ll explain later.”
We were pretty much the last to go into the show space and of course our allocated seating was right at the front – look don’t ask me. The result of course was that all eyes were on us, well probably, no disrespect Gloria but mostly on me. I tried to ignore the looks and whispering as we made our way to the seats, I swear I heard a lot of ‘Gräfin’ being whispered and more than a few respectful nods – just what is Gloria up to?
We were barely seated before the lights were lowered and the afternoon’s ‘presentation’ began. I might not have been to one of these things before but I do read Bild and Stern so I had some idea of what to expect but of course 2D pictures don’t quite convey the 3D reality of flashing lights, loud music and the chatter of shutters from the bank of cameras. Of course the mannequins were all skinny as you’d expect, there’s more meat on a muddy stick and I reckon they were all like a metre eighty tall.
Its no wonder that no one actually wears most of this stuff, okay, I’m wearing one of their frocks today but most of this stuff is just so off the wall. The models strutted along the low staging, turning and moving in a clearly well choreographed fashion to show off each outfit. Yeah, pure theatre to entertain the lucky (?) few watching in the room.
Well i’m not going to even try to describe everything we were shown, for starters I can’t remember and those that I can I don’t have the words to do so. What I can tell you is that I can’t imagine going anywhere where most of it would be appropriate. No, I can’t see me nipping down to Eloise Couture to get my orders in for any of this stuff when we get back.
I guess what you don’t appreciate reading Stern or whatever is how long it goes on for, by the time you’ve seen each part of the collection you’ve looked at something like a hundred outfits. Say a minute each and factor in bits between and you’re looking at best bit of two hours sat on a less than comfortable chair watching stupidly expensive clothes strut, waft and twirl past. The end couldn’t come soon enough for me, a final sashay of ‘key’ pieces, presentation of designers and then finally it was over.
“So what do you think,” Gloria asked as we waited our turn to depart the show area,
“I think I need the ladies,” I whispered back.
“Me too, damn, sorry about this, Margareta.”
“Some nice pieces Gloria.”
The woman, didn’t just sound like a horse, she looked like one too.
“Indeed,” Gloria sort of agreed, “but where are my manners, Gabrielle, may I introduce Margareta Buchbinder, an old friend from university, Margareta, the Gräfin Ahrweiler.”
Ah, this must be what Gloria was hinting at before the show.
“Pleased to meet you you’re Ladyship,” the subject of the prank offered.
“And you too I’m sure,” I hammed in my best immitation of Sophia, not that she talks particularly posh, offering a limp hand which was seized and shaken.
“Did you enjoy the show?” she pushed on.
“It was, ‘interesting’.”
Somehow we’d attracted a bit of a discrete audience and I could hear my words and assumed title in several whispered conversations.
“If you’d excuse us Margareta, I promised the Gräfin’s parents I’d have her home for dinner,” Gloria hammed in turn.
“Of course, a pleasure to meet you Gräfin.”
“Mutual i’m sure.”
I finally got to empty my bladder and my ‘guardian’ led the way back into the late afternoon sunshine. What I hadn’t been expecting was the bank of paparazzi catching us on the way out.
“Give me your present,” Glo suggested, “go ahead of me and give them a smile.”
“Really?”
“Trust me Gräfin, you want these guys on your side, a few pictures now and they’ll leave you be next time.”
“If you say so,” I sighed before plastering a happy smile on and heading on out.
“So what was all that Gräfin stuff about?” I asked once we were in the car again.
“Lets just say that Margareta is a bit of a social bore, Jorge Buchbinder is a nice chap, runs his own construction company but she has ‘ideas’ of grandeur.”
“Sounds like Nana Bond,” I suggested, “puts a posh voice on for strangers, doilies on the chairs and stuff.”
“Something like that,” Gloria agreed, “by the way, nice touch with the accent.”
“Accent?”
“The full on Prussian private school, where did you get that, the TV?”
“I just sort of copied how Sophia talks.”
“Taxis?”
“Well her family are the poshest that I know, I mean Ludwig is a Duke.”
“Huh, pulling rank on me,” she chortled.
“Won’t all those other people think I’m this Gräfin Ahrweiler though, there’s not a real one is there?”
“Not as far as I know but there are so many minor houses in the country I doubt anyone will question it, its not like we’re in Bonn. So Gräfin, you want to stop for an early dinner?”
I couldn’t resist checking the contents of the D&G™ goody bag we’d been handed on our exit from the event. For me, when I think of a goody bag, memories of the sweets and cheap throwaway toys received at friends birthday parties are the thing but even the receptacle was in another league today. It might only be a tote bag, but its a designer tote bag, pretty sure if you could buy one these it would be like €30, i’ve not even got to the contents.
Gloria was spot on, a spritzer of their latest fragrance, a travel set of skin care products and an exclusive, well that's what it said on the tag, scarf – I reckon there was at least a hundred euros worth there. Gift horse and all that. I settled back into the Porsche’s leather covered armchair, who would’ve thought that Gloria would do that whole wind up thing, Gräfin indeed.
My chauffeur took us back up the autobahn to Daun where we stopped at the Restaurant Müller out near the swimming lake.
“So a good day Gaby?”
“Different,” I opined before taking a sip of the wine Gloria had ordered, “so do you go to a lot of those things?”
“A few, I’m not really a clothes horse, give me a hacking jacket and jodphurs any day.”
“The horse stuff yeah?”
“What about you? you do fashion diva very well.”
“Its not exactly me, not really.”
We were interrupted by the arrival of food. Food, oh bum, Mad and Aunt Carol, I said I’d cook tonight. Not just that, its not like they’ll starve but I’ve not given Mad a thought since we left this morning, does that make me a bad person?
Maddy Bell © 20.08.2018
“Gaby?” Aunt Carol queried when I eventually joined everyone in the Bond Cave.
By the time Gloria and I had eaten and driven back to Dernau from Daun it was knocking on seven.
“’s me,” I agreed, ”hi Auntie.”
“Said you wouldn’t recognise her,” Mad smirked.
“You’ve certainly grown,” Aunt Carol suggested as she pulled me into a hug.
“Not really, actually, let me get these off they’re killing me,” I told those assembled kicking my stilts off.
“Your Mum says you’ve been to some fancy fashion show?” she continued now looking down at me.
“Yeah,” I allowed, “not really my thing.”
“Take it you’re hungry kiddo?” Mum proposed, “tables booked for eight.”
“Erm.”
“She’s always hungry,” Mand put in.
“Where we going?”
“Just the Stube,” Dad told me.
“Honestly Dave, you didn’t need to go to that expense.” my Aunt mentioned.
“Its no trouble Carol,” Mum interjected, “its Gabs turn to cook tonight, she’s a dab hand with a deep frier.”
“Can I get out of this?” I queried.
“What’s wrong with it,” Mum asked.
“I’ve been wearing it all day?”
“Whatever, you’ve got ten minutes before the taxi gets here young lady,” Dad informed me.
“And take those ridiculous heels up with you,” Mum ordered.
I took a breath, tolled my eyes theatrically, claimed my footwear and headed up to my eyrie.
Well there wasn’t time to shower or to redo my slap so it really was a strip, quick wash and replace the D&G™ with something a little more er, down market. Yeah, Orsay is hardly in the same class is it but the short sleeved dress I pulled on is less food prone and importantly, not fitted. After the closely tailored dress i’ve been in all day it was almost a joy to wear something less restrictive.
I debated keeping my tights on but comfort won out so a quick peel, fresh pants, a pair of liner socks, my sparkly red ballet flats and I was done.
Beep, Beep!
Guess that's the taxi, I grabbed my D&G™ bag, dumped the contents into my mini ruck and clattered downstairs.
Of course I didn’t really want a second dinner, I’d had Beef Roulade with all the trimmings barely two hours ago. Lets just say that the Sebenschuh menu is somewhat traditional – and heavy, wonder if Ing can rustle me up an omelette or something? Anyhow, we all trooped into Helmut’s gaff, which, for midweek, seemed quite busy.
“Dave, Jenny, girls,” Helmut greeted.
“Evening Helmut,” Dad returned, “thanks for fitting us in.”
“Ach, no problem for a friend.”
“You don’t know my cousin,” Mum put in indicating my Aunt, “ Carol and this here is her daughter Madeline.”
“Deutsche?”
“Keine,” Mum replied.
“Welcome to Rech ladies,” Helmut managed in his best English, “you are here long?”
“Just a flying visit,” Aunt C replied giving my cousin a look.
“Well lets make sure its a nice visit,” he reverted to German, “i’ve put you on six, you know the way Gaby, i’ll send Inge over for drinks.”
“She’s busy, i’ll come over when we’re ready.”
“Best take some of these then,” he plonked a pile of menu’s in my hands.
Of course, i’ve eaten here before, in the restaurant, the Stube itself and in the house – well Pia is one of my best friends. It does mean there are no surprises on the menu, as I said before, its all standard, traditional, German fare, Minestrone soup and an unexciting cardboard pizza are as exotic as it gets.
“So what’s everyone want to drink?” I switched to waitress mode once everyone was seated in the horseshoe booth .
“Didn’t expect to see you today,” Pia opined when I reached the bar, “Con said you’d gone to that fashion show in Trier.”
“That was earlier, things must be desperate if you’re working.”
“I’ll have you know I work all the time!”
“Gotcha!”
“Oo, just you wait Gaby Bond!”
“Gräfin Ahrweiler,” I stated.
“You what?”
“Gräfin Ahrweiler, that’s what Max’s mum has been calling me all day.”
“Bit of a fall from Prinzessin.”
“Oh I don’t know, I think it sounds quite me.”
“If you say so, so what do the Gräfin’s party want to drink?”
“Oh yeah, nearly forgot, two cokes, a Sprite® and a bottle of house red for the rents and my aunt.”
“Wondered who she was, looks a lot like your mum.”
“Her cousin.”
“The girl is the missing one, yeah?” she went on as she deftly poured the soft drinks.
“Mads, didn’t you meet her when they came before?”
“Can’t remember if I did.”
“Was a while ago,” I allowed.
“You taking these?”
“Guess so seeing as i’m stood here.”
“Here she is,” Mum stated when I returned to our table, “thought you’d gone to tread the grapes.”
“Har de har.”
“They tread grapes here?” Aunt C queried.
“No Auntie.”
“What about at the Weinfest?” Mand suggested.
“Okay they do it then but only for the visitors. they’ve got proper presses and stuff out in the cellars,” I supplied.
“All hi-tech now Carol,” Dad advised passing her a glass of the Ahrtal’s ‘finest’ grape product.
“Cheers!” Mum proposed.
“Cheers!” we chorused back.
“So what’re we eating,” she went on returning to the menu perusal my arrival had interrupted.
The dinner conversation was largely Mum and my Aunt catching up, the Elephant in the room being avoided – at least for now. It wasn’t all oldie talk about Church Warsop, my trip to Trier was deemed of sufficient entertainment value to be included.
“I take it you resisted buying anything,” Dad suggested.
“Well not too much,” I dead panned.
“How much?” he groaned.
“Only two thousand.”
“Two thousand?” he almost choked on his wine.
“Gaby,” Mum warned.
“Sorry Dad, just winding you up.”
“You had us all going there Gaby,” Aunt C told me.
“Trouble is Carol, I wouldn’t put it past her, you saw the dress she had on earlier?”
“Very smart.”
“Tell her Gaby,” Mum instructed.
“Eight hundred euros,” I told the table with a wince.
“Ouch!” Mad opined.
“Lets just say we had words,” Mum continued.
“I think i’ve gotten off easily,” Aunt C suggested, even if I have had to come halfway across Europe to fetch her.”
“I said I was sorry,” Mad whined.
“I still don’t know why or how,” her mum stated, “if you wanted to come visit we could’ve sorted that out, you only had to ask right Jen?”
“You’re always welcome Maddy,” Mum agreed.
“It wasn’t that, I never set out to come here.”
“So where were you hoping to go?” Aunt Carol pressed.
“Scarborough?”
“And you just got on the wrong bus I suppose?”
“Sort of,” Mad told us.
“Well we’re all ears,” Aunt C prompted.
“Not here, back at the house?” my cousin proposed.
“Sounds reasonable Carol,” Mum agreed.
Looks like we’ll finally get the full story. Eating was just about finished – I managed to force down Leberknödel with rice, not too heavy and a nod to the sort of food on the BC diet plan. Mind you, I don’t expect they were working on me eating two dinners in a day!
As we got out of the taxi Mum hinted that I should wait a moment before going indoors.
“Wassup?”
“I want you and Amanda to make yourselves scarce when you get indoors.”
“But Mum,” I wailed.
“No buts young lady, this is between Mad and her mum, if she wanted you to know don’t you think she’d have said already?”
“I guess but i’ve hardly seen her have I?”
“If she wants you to know she can tell you tomorrow.”
“Aren’t they going back tomorrow?”
“Saturday, so you’ll have plenty of time to talk.”
Saturday, there’s something happening on Saturday, hmmm, it’ll come.
“I guess,” I sighed, “what about you and Dad?”
“We’ll leave them to talk.”
I sighed, “’kay.”
“Nite everyone,” I offered through the lounge door.
“Yeah, goodnight,” Mand added.
“Night girls,” Dad replied.
“Nite Gab.”
“G’night you two.”
“See you tomorrow,” Mad completed the Waltons sequence.
I followed Mand up stairs.
“So what was that charade all about?” de Vreen demanded, “we were gonna get all the dirty.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed, “Mum says we should give them some space tonight, they’re not flying back till Saturday so we can get the gritty tomorrow I guess.”
“Isn’t your friend with the baby coming Saturday?”
“Thats this week?”
“You marked it on the calendar.”
“I knew there was something, i’m supposed to be going with Mart to meet them at the airport.”
“Kill two birds, see your aunt and cousin off and meet the others.”
like that’s gonna work out!
Maddy Bell © 24.08.2018
“So?” I enquired of Mater when I got down to the kitchen Thursday morning.
“Morning to you too Squib,” she retorted.
“Er soz, morning, so?”
“What did I say last night about being patient?”
“Yeah I know but you must know something,” I pressed.
“Me and your Dad went up after I made a pot of coffee for them.”
“You’re no fun,” I huffed as I assembled a meat and cheese sandwich from the spread Mum had put out for Frühstück.
“Are you okay to cook tonight?”
“Its not my turn,” I whined.
“We’ve got guests, I’ve got to go out later, do you really want to expose them to your Dad’s cooking?”
“We could eat out again?” I hopefully suggested.
“Are you paying?”
I guess my face answered that one.
“Guess not then, so cooking?”
“Yes Mum,” I sighed, “what’re we having?”
“Good, I’ll get Manda to fetch some escalopes, we can have homemade Schnitzel, there’s some Spargel and new taters in the larder.”
“Right,” I allowed – at least its fairly straightforward, “guess I can make a crumble for pud.”
“You could use up that rhubarb Hen gave me last week.”
“’kay,” I agreed, bit of a weird combo but quite simple to do.
“You going up on your bike?”
“Yeah, we can go straight up around the ring, if the veg is ready to go on, dinner should be ready for seven?”
“Make it half past kiddo, this meeting might go on a bit.”
“Right,” I glanced at the clock, “shitza, I need to make tracks.”
“You want me to take you up?” she offered.
It was, on the face of it, tempting. On the other hand by the time we’ve got the bike stowed and driven up, its almost as quick to ride up, best to save my taxi points until I really need them.
“Nah, its not like I can’t get a cuppa at the kiosk is it?”
In the end I had plenty of time, I was changed and already had a cup of coffee in my hand when Kris arrived.
“Morning Gab, you look serious?”
“Eh? Oh just sorting out Saturday,” I advised closing my phone, “coffee?”
“Er sure, Saturday?”
I started her coffee going, it might not be a Gaggia but there’s no cleaning every night and all the faff grinding beans and stuff, nope, cup, button, coffee.
“Yeah, my Aunt’s taking Mad home and Bernie’s coming.”
“Both on Saturday? I thought your cousin would be already home?”
“Flights apparently,”
“You haven’t forgotten about Saturday have you, me and Con are both off.”
“Er course not,” I hedged, “just organising stuff, so what’re you guys doing?”
“Shopping for college,” she allowed, “as we’re doing the same course we’re gonna share the expensive text books, we still need to buy them though.”
“You have to buy them?”
“Course, there’s some we can get used from the college but the main ones we need to get ourselves, what about you, all set for Monday?”
Sugar, i’d best check that stuff Frau Olafsdottir gave me, “er yeah sure, all set and raring to go.”
“you know Saturday,” I started as Con sorted herself out, “its not just me working is it?”
“Duh,” Con replied with an eye roll, “Nen’s in and Mum’s here with the weekday minions.”
“She is?”
“I did tell you on Tuesday.”
Did she? I know I was a bit distracted but you’d think i’d remember that.
“You did?”
Instead of an immediate confirmation, Con went a bit pale, “shitza, I forgot, sorry Gabs, I meant to but what with all that stuff with your cousin and then you weren’t here yesterday, it is alright isn’t it?”
What can I say? I mean, how many times have I had days off, weeks off even and the others have just filled for me, “no its fine, so what are the new girls like?”
Putt, putt, putt. Yep the unmistakable sound of Max’s mofa echoed along the street.
“Lover boy’s here,” Kris called over from her table clearing.
Advertise it why don’t you, and we are not lovers, we might do a bit of heavy snogging but that's it.
“You getting your lunch then Gab?” Con suggested.
“Guess so, looks quiet enough.”
Indeed this week has been much quieter than recent weeks across the summer, I guess the holiday season is pretty much over. I’m sure there will still be plenty of weekend trippers for another few weeks but it won’t need three staff all day during the week. I sorted out a plate of Pommes and selected a ‘pie of the week’, chicken if i’m not mistaken, grabbed eating irons and a couple of bottles and headed the long way around to where Max was still de-helmeting.
“That was quick.”
“Well I have had some practice, corner table’s free.”
“Be right there.”
“You survived mum yesterday then?”
“Just about,” I confirmed, “not really my thing.”
“Mum says you looked amazing, pity there’s no pictures.”
“Perv!” I accused.
“Am not,” he defended, “i just have a healthy libido.”
“Thats what you call it is it?”
“Ah, ah.”
“Anyway there probably will be pictures, there were loads of photographers there.”
“So your cousin gone home then, you find out how she got here?”
“Nope and nope, Tante Carol couldn’t get them flights back until Saturday, hopefully i’ll find the rest out later.”
“Your family really is full of mystery.”
“Its why you love me.”
I halted, Frite halfway to my mouth, did I really just say that, the L word that is?
Max seemed not to have noticed as he countered immediately, “well the kissing might have something to do with the attraction.”
“You only want me for my lips?”
“Well the body’s not too shabby I guess.”
“Not too shabby, why you!” I flicked a frite at him.
“Hey don’t waste them!”
“Vineyard later?” Max proposed as I collected the remnants of our lunch.
“I wish, Mum conned me into cooking tonight.”
“Bum,” he sighed.
“You could come to dinner?” I suggested on a whim.
“You sure?”
“Course, its only Schnitzel with Spargel but i’m doing crumble and custard for dessert.”
“There gonna be enough?”
“Course, I wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.”
“Done then! What time?”
“Seven? You can help Dad with the table.”
“Oh, before I forget,” Mand offered as we waited for the level crossing to open, “there’s extras for dinner tonight.”
“There is?” I asked as I concentrated on my track stand.
“Your sister and Boris are coming down.”
The barrier finally lifted and we bumped over the rails and out of Altenahr.
“Where’re they gonna stay?”
“You’re dad was mumbling something about the camper.”
“Guess that makes sense, Max is coming too.”
“Good job I got a pack of ten escalopes then,” Mand opined.
“Yeah,” I agreed automatically, “erm, you fancy working at the Kabin Saturday?”
“Can’t, Eva’s got the trailer at some Bierfest thing down in Koblenz, you double booked or something?”
“Or something,” I sighed as we swung up onto the Adenau road.
If Tuesday was supposed to mimic next week’s course in Canada, this afternoon is more of a steady workout, shorter but quite a good workout. Of course the ride up to the ring and back is something of a staple in our programme, today its the long loop through Adenau and around the F1 circuit before the fast return via Kempenich and Ahrweiler. Its actually one of my favourite circuits, it might not drop as steeply as going down to Ahrbrück but its longer so you keep the speed better and well, the road is better too.
I wasn’t really listening to Mand’s babble as we rode piano up the valley and somewhere along the way she shut up, pushing the kph up a touch instead. Where was I, well i’m not really sure, certainly I was riding on auto pilot, that state where you can’t remember how you got to where you are. It was Mand suddenly launching into a sprint that broke me from my reverie, I quickly gathered my wits and took chase.
“So you are awake,” de Vreen got out betwwen breaths a few moments later.
“Course,” I told her, grabbing my bidon from the cage.
It had been close, she just got the drop on me in the end.
“I was beginning to wonder.”
“Just thinking.”
“Maddy?”
“Amongst other things.”
“Take it you’ve got staff problems Saturday?”
“Sort of.”
“I could dip out from the crêpe stall if you’re desperate,” she offered.
“No, we’ll be okay,” I sighed, “come on, last one to the Ring peels the spuds.”
It was a slightly hollow threat, we’re having new potatoes so they just want a quick scrub. Anyhow, we turned to the job in hand, dodging the traffic through Adenau and into a half wheeling bonanza up through the wide Quiddelbach hairpins. The oppresive heat of recent weeks has dialled itself back to a more comfortable lower twenties, in large part the result of more cloud decorating the blue above us.
It was close on six when we rolled, exhausted up the drive to the open garage, having to squeeze between the Hymer and Boris’s elderly Polo. Bikes hung, Mand took the garage shower while I pounded up to my en suite, seven o’clock would’ve been tight but even with the extra thirty minutes getting everything ready will be an intense job. De-sweated, I quickly chucked some clothes on and pounded back downstairs in a record breaking ten minutes.
“That you Gab?” Dad called out.
“Yes Dad,” I replied backing up to poke my head through the living room door.
“Extra’s for dinner,” he advised.
“Hi sis,” Jules offered.
“Yeah I know, Mand said, i’ve invited Max too.”
“We’ll need the table out then,” Dad sighed.
“I’ll give you a hand Herr Bond,” Boris offered, “heya Gab, looking good.”
“Hi Bo.”
Looks like its gonna be an ‘interesting’ evening.
“I’d best get on, food to cook and all that.”
Maddy Bell © 27.08.2018
Thump, thump, thump!
“What’re you doing?” Mad enquired from the kitchen doorway.
I moved another piece of meat onto the block, thump, thump, thump, thump!
“Making schnitzel.”
“With a hammer?”
“Tenderizer,” I corrected.
Thump, thump, thump!
“Don’t you buy them in a packet? I’m sure they had them on a special in that Lidl place in Shirebrook a bit back.”
“We make them from scratch,” I haughtily replied.
“You’d have them out of a box if you could, you use frozen at the kiosk,” Mand pointed out.
“Yeah well that's for cheap catering, you got those breadcrumbs ready?”
“Nearly.”
“So why are you beating them to death with that thing?”
Good question, “well it breaks up the meat a bit and it cooks quicker cos its not as thick.”
“Anything I can do?” Mad asked.
Is there? Oh right yeah, “see those eggs, can you crack them into the bowl and whip them up?”
Thump, thump, thump! Only four more to go.
Max turned up and after an exchange of lips joined the rest in the family room although I think he escaped the table moving. Mad lost interest after doing the egg wash leaving me and Mand to the breadcrumbs, plates and the fryer. To speed things along I put Mand in charge of the potatoes while I got the Rotköhl, Spargel and baby carrots going.
Max poked his head around the door, “your mum wants to know how long.”
“This stuff takes time,” I snapped.”
“Hey, I’m only the messenger.”
“Soz,” I sighed, “’bout ten minutes, can you take the plates through.”
“Sure, so what crumble we having?”
Crumble, damn, “its a surprise.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Plates?”
“Oh right, ten minutes, gis a yell if you need help with anything.”
Mand snorted as he departed carrying the crockery.
“Give over mucky mind.”
“So what crumble are we having?”
“Mum said there’s some rhubarb in the larder.”
“Again?”
“What can I say, Hen grew a lot. Guess I could do plum as well if you fetch some?” I hinted. We have a couple of fruit trees down the garden, the plums are looking pretty good although they can be a little sour.
“Anything but rhubarb, how many?”
“I like rhubarb, ‘bout a dozen, here,” I grabbed a mixing bowl, “put them in here.”
“Yes o master,” she retorted deftly avoiding the butt slap I aimed her direction.
Thankfully crumble is easy to make, fruit in dish, crushed biscuit on top, stick in oven go and eat main course. The custard needs to be made fresh anyway so as soon as the two dishes were ovened Mand and I started moving food into the other room. Whilst we don’t entertain that often we do have plenty of serving dishes and silverware which is just as well.
Of course it doesn’t hurt that both Mand and me have experience waiting at table, we made short work of placing the tureens, plates and serving implements amongst the glassware and waiting diners. It looked pretty good, the table that is, its not that I was trying to make an impression exactly, maybe laying the Spargel all the same way, arranging the meat in a sort of pyramid and buttering the taters is a bit more than I’d usually bother with. Its all practical, honest, the breadcrumbs on the Schnitzel don’t get soggy, its easier to serve the asparagus and you don’t have a butter dish going around the table – see, perfectly sensible.
“Well this looks delish,” Aunt C suggested.
“Dig in,” Mum suggested.
“Wine everyone?” Dad proposed.
And so battle commenced. Our English visitors were clearly taking their lead from the rest of us, Mand clearly had no idea what the Spargel actually was, Aunt Carol taking just a small amount of red cabbage compared to the piles adorning even Mands plate. Though I say so myself, it all turned out pretty good, at least as good as most restaurants, maybe a couple of the Schnitzel were a bit ‘darker’ than ideal but hey ho, that's how it goes. Of course the lads were enthusiastic in their eating and conversation largely centreing on the impending move to University for my sister and her boyfriend.
“So who’s for dessert,” I asked as Jules and Boris removed the main course debris.
“After all that?” my Aunt queried.
“Live a little Carol,” Mum opined.
“Well only a little, what are we having?”
“Crumble,” I supplied, “there’s either plum or rhubarb with custard or ice cream.”
“Plum, urgh, rhubarb for me,” Mad told us.
“Be about ten minutes for the custard, Max.”
“Er right,” von Strechau agreed following me out to the kitchen where we disturbed my sister doing exactly what I had planned.
“Oops,” Jules offered breaking her lip lock on Herr Appelroth.
“Get a room you two.”
“Later sis,”Jules grinned, “so what's for pud?”
“As if you can’t smell it.”
“Crumble and custard?” Boris put forward hopefully.
“Only if you sod off and let me get on.”
“Come on Liebchen, the Master needs space to work her miracles,” Boris grinned as he tugged my sister out of the kitchen.
“Not you,” I told Max who was making to follow them.
Maddy let out a breath, “urgh, I’m stuffed.”
“Me too,” Aunt Carol agreed, “thank you Gaby.”
I shrugged, “’s okay.”
“I can see why you guys like it out here, I wouldn’t want to go back to Warsop either.”
“We don’t eat like this all the time Carol,” Mum mentioned.
“Yeah, like why do you think me and Boris are here, its usually frozen pizza,” my sister put in.
As if!
“Well it was very nice anyway Gaby.”
“Mand helped.” I pointed out.
“Thank you all, I’m just sorry for the circumstances of us being here.”
Mum reached over a hand, placing it over my Aunts, “you know you’re welcome.”
“Well I think you deserve an explanation and apology from someone.”
Mad squirmed in her seat.
“Not neccessary Carol,” Dad stated.
“It is Dave,” she replied, “my daughter owes quite a few people an explanation.”
“Mu-um,” Mad whined.
“Lets clear this up and we can hear your tale over coffee okay Maddy?” Mum proposed.
Mad, clearly quite embarrassed at the attention just nodded in agreement.
“Why didn’t you just get out of the camper?” Jules queried.
Mad shrugged, “dunno, I was like petrified of being found and what would happen to me.”
“Makes sense,” I offered, “I’d be wetting my knickers.”
“You’re always wetting them,” Mand opined.
“Do not!”
“Girls!” Dad interrupted, “so what happened when you got off the ferry Maddy?”
“Well I hadn’t got a clue where we were, still don’t, I thought I’d jump ship so to speak when they stopped, they have to stop somewhere right?”
And so we listened as my cousin recounted her adventure, how she found a few euros in the camper, caught a bus and tramped the countryside. She could have got help any number of times so goodness knows why she didn’t just go to the Polizei instead of hiding all the time. Mind you, it was quite funny that night in the church.
It wasn’t a long story, not really but with our interruptions it ran into a second round of coffee and a couple of hours.
“….so that's why I didn’t fancy your plum crumble Gab,” she concluded.
“Yeah, they can be a bit sour,” Mum agreed.
“Well your safe now,” Dad noted.
“Something to tell the kids,” Jules grinned.
“Please Juliette, don’t wish that on me yet,” Aunt C told her.
Mum gave my sister a pointed look.
“Well um, now we’ve heard all that, I guess we’d best get to bed,” Jules suggested, “Boris?”
“Um yeah, nice to meet everyone, we’ll er go to bed then.”
“I’ll show you the code so you can get in for the facilities,” Dad stated getting up with them.
“That was quite some story,” Max opined a few minutes later.
“Sorry we didn’t get a chance to, you know,” I apologized.
Ii’ll live,” he grinned, “come here.”
We were disturbed a few minutes later by Mum’s voice, “Maria’s picking me up in the morning so you can use the car if you want to go out.”
“Are you sure Jen, we’ve caused you guys enough problems this week already.”
“Its no problem Carol, it’ll only be stood here, you going home Max?”
“Er yes Frau Bond, I’ll er see you tomorrow Gab?”
“Usual time?”
“Might be later, the farrier’s coming in the morning.”
I went onto tip toes to peck his cheek, “see you tomorrow then.”
“Night Mrs B, Mrs er Peters.”
“Goodnight Max,” Mum pointedly told him.
“Seems like a nice lad,” Aunt C opined as the mofa kicked into life outside, “both of them are.”
“We’ve had our moments,” Mum told her.
“Well I just wish Maddy would find someone a bit more attached to reality.”
“I thought this Peter was a nice lad?”
“He’s certainly into cosplay,” I put in.
“A bit too much,” my Aunt noted, “he dropped out of college because it was ‘not relevant’.”
“Relevant to what?” Mum asked.
“Goodness knows, this doesn’t go further okay, Gaby?”
What doesn’t? “er sure.”
“This whole escapade didn’t start with the need for a loo, you know about the tattoo?”
Mum knowingly nodded, I followed suit not having a clue.
“Well this all started on the train up to Scarborough, apparently Peter Perfect wanted my daughter to get more ink, I think that's what they say. For a change she didn’t just agree, they had a big fall out on the train and she stormed off – the bus to Brid was a spur of the moment thing.”
Tattoos? Hardcore Mad, wonder what the tattoo is, probably something lame like I dunno, a butterfly. And where is it? Must be somewhere ‘private’ or I’d’ve seen it already – who’d’ve thought, she could be like Fritzi down at the clinic, now she really has got some ink!
Maddy Bell © 31.08.2018
Me and Mand got cooks get out on the clean up so it seemed prudent to head to our own beds – the Rent’s, I’m sure will be talking for quite a while yet. Mand was keen to catch some z’s but rather than do the same I took a seat on a step half way up ‘my’ stairs.
“Nite!” Mads voice sounded from below followed shortly after by the padding of feet up the lower staircase.
“When were you gonna tell me?”
“Don’t do that, you scared the poo out of me!”
“Not as much as you did us this week,” I suggested as my cousin came over to the Eyrie stairs.
“I said I was sorry.”
“I guess you’re forgiven.”
She climbed up and joined me on the stair, “bit like old times eh?”
“Old times?”
“Yeah, you know all this cloak and dagger stuff, like when we did that stuff with Jules and her friends, by the way, that Boris is hot.”
“I don’t recall having to be rescued from another country by the parents.”
“Well maybe not that but we had some right adventures, yeah?”
I thought back, adventures – not exactly what I’d call them, if I remember rightly it was mostly Mad conniving to get me in dresses and other girl stuff when I was pretty certain I was a boy called Drew. Okay, I’ll admit some of it was fun but I’m sure I only went along with it because I was soft on Mad and wanted to keep in her good books. Thinking back, the Angels have never really done anything too ‘edgy’, I’ve had more excitement with Max and my sister, that’s okay though, I know the girls will always be there for me.
“I guess there were some,” I allowed.
My original intention of interrogation was shunted sideways as the sound of parental units heading upstairs intruded on our tête a tête.
“Oops, best go or Mum’ll beat me to the hot water,” Mad opined, “see you tomorrow yeah?”
“Er yeah,” I agreed before being surprised by quick cheek kiss.
“Nite!”
“Nite,” hot water? All our showers have their own heating units, we never run out of hot.
I was woken, not by sunlight streaming through the dormer but by the beating of rain on the roof tiles. After a summer almost devoid of wet it was a stark reminder that we were now in September, well just, and we could expect more changeable weather. I crawled out of bed – if I get my bum in gear I can get a lift up with Con and the bread.
Of course, by the time I got to Thesing’s the rain had all but stopped and the sun was peeking through the clouds.
“So you find anything out?” Con enquired once her dad left the kiosk.
“Eh?”
“Don’t act dumb Bond, your cousin?”
“Oh right, yeah, we got the whole tale after dinner last night.”
“Well come on then, spill.”
“Yeah, out with it Gab’s,” Nena chimed in joining us after putting out the seating.
“Gi’s a chance,” I requested as I topped up the friers with oil.
“Really? She walked from Münster?” Nen queried, “Why didn’t she just ring from there?”
“No idea,” I admitted.
“She doesn’t sound too bright, you sure you’re related?” Con proposed.
“You do funny stuff under stress,” I mentioned, well maybe she isn’t the sharpest knife but she’s not a thicko.
“Why was she heading to Remagen?” Nen asked.
“She remembered me telling her about going swimming and assumed that's where we lived.”
“I guess there’s some logic to that,” Con allowed.
“Still can’t believe she was frightened of the Polizei,” Nen mused.
“They can be a bit intimidating with the guns and stuff.”
“Of course they have guns,” my friend stated.
On one level I know that but you sort of learn to ignore it.
“They don’t in England,” I pointed out, “and she hadn’t got a passport or anything.”
“What about her ID card?” Nen queried.
“They don’t have them in England,” Con supplied.
“Really?”
“Nope,” I agreed with my BGF, “you have to have a passport to travel outside of the country.”
“Weird.”
By mid morning the only signs of the earlier rain were a few small puddles along the road gutters and across on the Bahnhof forecourt. It wasn’t a complete return to the summer sunshine, clouds hid the sun from time to time and whilst still warm it was closer to twenty than thirty degrees. We were fairly busy considering, I guess people are making the most of any half decent weather before the holiday season ends.
“Isn’t that your Mum’s car?” Nen suggested, pointing with her chin towards the station.
I craned to see, “looks like it, wonder what she wants.”
“That's not your Mum,” Con observed.
“Its not?” I went up onto my toes to get a better view of the A Klasse, “oh right, its my Aunt, Mum must’ve leant her the car.”
“So I guess that’s your cousin then,” Nena suggested.
“Looks like it,” I agreed.
“She really does look like you.”
“I can see why people thought you were twins,” Con added.
“I guess so, except for my hair and her tattoo.”
“Tattoo?”
“Later,” I suggested, “they’re coming over.”
“So this is the famous kiosk,” Aunt C stated.
I shrugged, “I wouldn’t say famous.”
“Not what your Mum says, you’ve been on telly and in the papers.”
“Only on Rhein Abend, like the local version of Calendar .”
“Is there a Harry ?” Mad asked.
“Nah, we’ve got Gertie Schmidt, you saw her last year.”
“We did?” my Aunt queried.
“The Sports Personality thing.”
“When you had that long dress and that silly hat?”
Don’t remind me, “yeah, she did the presenting stuff here. So where are you guys off to?”
“Not really sure,” my Aunt allowed, “your Dad suggested this Adenburg place for lunch, we’re meeting your Mum in Rem something later.”
“Adenburg? Oh that’ll be Adenau, a few shops, you could eat here,” I offered.
“Told ya,” Mad grinned.
I looked enquiringly at my rels.
“Your Dad said you’d suggest that,” Aunt C told me.
“Well it might not be Michelin™ but we are a cafe and there’s a table free.”
“Go on then,” she agreed.
“Sit down, I’ll get you the menu, coffee?”
“Any chance of tea?”
“think we can manage that, Mad?”
“Coke?”
“One cola, one tea, be right back.”
“So where’s this tattoo,” Nen enquired as I sorted out my Aunt’s tea.
“No idea, I haven’t seen it yet.”
“It’ll be a butterfly or something like that,” Con proposed.
“I really have no idea, I can’t believe she got one at all.”
“You’ll have to get one now,” Nen told me.
“Not likely!”
So okay its not like I hate them or anything, some are really good art and stuff but they aren’t for me, ut uh.
“Shouldn’t you be working,” Mad asked when I joined them as they tucked into pie of the week, Huhn und Spargel , with Pommes.
“Its my break,” I told them with a shrug.
“So your young man,” Aunt C started, “seems like a nice lad, very good manners.”
“I guess, his Oma, the Baroness that is, goes ballistic if he uses any sort of slang.”
“Baroness?” Mad squealed.
“You saw where they live the other day, its like the family seat.”
“Other day?”
“We went to Max’s for dinner,” I filled in for my Aunt, “his dad is a bit of a chef.”
“Yeah, he’s nothing like the Duke up at Welbeck,” Mad put in, “really ordinary except they live in a castle.”
“Well strictly speaking the Schloss is a fortified house,” I pointed out.
“Splitting hairs Gabs,” my cousin opined, “you should see it Mum.”
“You certainly live in a different world here Gaby.”
“I guess,” I allowed, “you want dessert?”
“More tea would be nice,” Aunt C suggested.
“Coming up.”
“Well?” Con asked as I refilled the tea pot.
“Nothing, must be on her bum or something.”
“Or one of those tramp stamp things,” Nena added.
“Could be.”
“Why don’t you just ask her?” Thesing suggested.
“What, with her mum sat there?”
“Why not?”
“Oh I can see that going well, 'so Mad lets see your tattoo then, sure Gab let me take my knickers off so you can see.' Not gonna happen.”
“You could be more subtle Gab,” Nen pointed out.
“I’ll find out, maybe we could go to the pool?”
“And lend her your white bikini,” Con suggested.
“Why that one?”
“You gonna tell her?” Con asked Nena.
“What?”
“Well it doesn’t exactly hide much,” Nen supplied.
“It is a bikini.”
“A very see through bikini when it gets wet,” Con added.
“What! You all knew this, why didn’t anyone say anything?”
“Well you look so cute in it,” Nen chuckled.
“You know I can never wear it again don’t you?”
“Spoil sport,” Con scoffed.
“Urgh!” I put the fresh tea things on a tray and headed back out to my Aunt and Cousin.
Maddy Bell © 21.09.2018
“So erm, what are you guys up to later?”
The girls might have put me off wearing ‘that’ bikini ever again, doesn’t mean there’s not mileage in my ‘former’ friends idea.
“I thought i’d take you all out to dinner to repay your hospitality this week, I was going to ask your mum to suggest somewhere when we see her later, nowhere too smart, this one has a very limited wardrobe.”
Well I guess swimming is out then, but maybe a dress?
“Mad can borrow one of my posh frocks, its not like I don’t have a few.”
“That’s very generous Gaby.”
“She’d do the same for me right Mad?”
“Course.”
“Well that's that sorted then,” I grinned.
“So?” Nen pressed when my family members departed replete with directions for the rest of their perambulations.
“Dinner, posh frocks, she won’t be able to hide anything.”
“Sneaky,” Con allowed.
“I thought so,” I grinned back.
The distinctive putt, putt of Max’s Mofa rent the quiet of the afternoon something after two, when he said he’d be late I wasn’t thinking this late.
“You’re late,” duh, state the obvious Bond.
“I did say last night,” he pointed out plonking his helmet on the counter, “one of the other Pferde had thrown a shoe so it took longer.”
I know the general idea but horses really aren’t my thing so I just nodded.
“Bum, I just thought, won’t be a minute, schnitzel?”
“Whatever.”
“Go sit,” I instructed.
“Best do as she says Maxxie,” Nen put in behind me as I hurried back into the kiosk.
“Sorry P.”
“S’okay, i’ll get Inge to take me up. So you found out the story yet?”
“Pretty much, look gotta go, Max is waiting for his lunch, we can talk later okay?”
“Can’t keep Maxxie waiting, laters Gab.”
Was that irony? “er yeah, later.”
“Saw Mart earlier,” von Strechau advised between mouthfuls of Schnitzel.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, not sure if he was excited or scared stiff.”
“What about?”
“Really?”
“Oh about Bern coming to stay.”
“What else, you know they’re engaged?”
“She never said.”
“Girl of mystery clearly.”
“What’re you suggesting?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re thinking something,” I pressed.
“Well don’t you think its all a bit weird, them coming to live with the Preisers?”
“She’s had a hard time back in England,” I supplied.
“But to move here? Bit of a leap in the dark.”
“She was here for a few months last year and they were like a couple.”
“Hmm.”
“Why are we even having this conversation, its not like its any of our business.”
“I suppose, so you going to the airport to meet them?”
“Sort of, i’m going with Dad to drop Mad and her Mum off then meeting them there.”
“’kay, what time are you back in Dernau?”
“No idea, why?”
“Er nothing, just interested.”
I gave him a look, “just interested.”
“Okay, look there’s a gig up at Mayschoß, thought we could go.”
“Not at that bar place?”
“After last time, your dad really would kill me, no its at the Weinkellar.”
“So who’s playing?”
“Not really sure, they’re all local.”
“Hang on, you’re talking about that under eighteens thing that’s advertised on every lamp post.”
"Is it?"
“Have to check with the rents but it sounds like fun.”
“Great,” he allowed with a relieved look.
“You already bought tickets didn’t you?”
“Er might have.”
“You could’ve asked before,” I pointed out.
“You’ve had stuff going on, your cousin, Bernie coming.”
“Daft lump,” I leant over, grabbed his face, pulled it towards me and nocked the Frites hanging from his lips.
“Hey!”
I giggled as I swallowed my swag, “come here.”
This time when our lips met it was for a full on tonsil tickling kiss.
“He asked you then?” Nen suggested as the object of my lust putt, putted away through Altenahr’s streets.
“Of course he asked her,” Con chimed in.
“You two knew? well we haven't set a date but next Easter looks good.”
"Easter but its... Gabee!" Nen complained.
"had you going for a minute so how come I didn't know?"
“It’s hardly a secret, everyone’s going.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Course you were, we were gonna tell you yesterday but Max said not to,” Con informed me.
“Hang on, everyone?”
“Pretty much, its like an end of summer blast before college starts,” Nen advised.
How had I missed knowing about it? Oh I know i’ve seen the posters around for weeks but i’ve not really read them or realised the significance of the date. I really do go around in my own private bubble of existence, racing, training for same, the Tanzklub, yup my own little galaxy.
“So what’re we wearing?”
“Didn’t Max say?” Con queried, “guess not, its a beach party, last outing for the bikinis!”
“I am not wearing the white one.”
“Spoilsport,” Nena muttered.
I was officially on the late shift, locking up and then, having got a lift up I now had to catch the Express back down to Dernau. It was coming up to six when I reached home, finally sagging onto a kitchen chair.
“That you Gab?”
“Yes Mum.”
Said parent appeared at the kitchen door, “your aunt is treating us to dinner, so tidy please, we leave in forty minutes.”
“Where we going?”
“The Brauhaus down in Remagen.”
“That place by the river?”
“Uh huh, you’ve not been there have you?”
“Course not, why would I?”
“Nothing surprises me with you anymore, anyway, scoot, Carol said something about you lending Mad a dress?”
“Er yeah, sure, on my way.”
“So what’s this place like?” Mad asked a few minutes later as she perched on my bed while I dried myself after a swift shower.
“The Brauhaus? Not been but they’re usually like slightly upmarket pubs, bit like the Stube but with beer instead of wine.”
“Like a Berni?”
“Bit nicer usually but that sort of idea.”
“We don’t need to dress up too much then.”
“Oh I don’t know, I reckon we could raise the class and rock the place with something a bit classier than jeans, besides Mum’d kill me if I go down too casual.”
“You really have embraced the whole girly girl thing Gabs.”
“Not really, its just what we do hereabouts.”
“Whatever, never thought I’d see the day when you ‘d be the one leading the fashion club.”
I gave a shrug, “when in Rome?”
“If you say so, so what’re we wearing?”
Good question, i’d been giving it some thought this afternoon, going through the options in my wardrobe. I had toyed with Kostum but that's a bit much, nothing too formal but smarter than a disco special. The choice got smaller at each turn. I rummaged through the hangers.
“How about this for you and I’ll wear this.”
I presented her with what you might loosely call a cocktail dress, a strapless purple velvet number with a few rhinestones across the er, decollotage.
“Really?”
“Yeah, we’ll rock the place good and proper.”
“What about Amanda?”
“Eh? Oh right, I’ll let her know what we’re wearing, she’s got a couple of suitable frocks.”
I grabbed my Handy and quickly tabbed out a message and pressed send. I was sorting out some suitable underpinnings when I got the reply, a simple thumbs up icon.
“All set, you’ll need this, and these,” I handed out a strapless BH and a pair of fancy hose.
“You’ve not got anything that covers a bit more, you know, boob?”
“Since when are you worried about getting the girls out a bit?”
“I’m not.”
“So what’s the problem, come on, were leaving in like fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll just go down and change then.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve got all bashful too? you’ve got nothing i’ve not seen before.”
Well except for the tattoo.
“Come on, time’s a wastin’.”
With a sigh she hung the dress on my wardrobe door, “fine.
Of course I had to dress myself so checking out my cousins bod for the mysterious body art wasn’t exactly simple without being too obvious. Wherever it is I still hadn’t spotted it by the time I finished my own dressing.
“Bum!”
“What’s up?”
“You got any concealer?”
“Somewhere, handy for when Dracula has been visiting.”
“Dracula? Oh Max I guess.”
“You’ve not got a love bite have you?”
“Not exactly,” she stated turning to face me, “just this.”
“Whoa!”
“It seemed a good idea at the time,” she sighed, “concealer?”
“Bag next to the sink, is that what I think it is?”
“Next Generation, Deanna Troy.”
It looked huge, the Star Trek brooch emblazoned on her breast clearly visible above the fairly low cut dress.
“Its huge,” I blurted.
“Not really, its actual size, hmm, not a bad match.”
A couple of minutes later it had vanished beneath a layer of face paint, knowing it was there you could spot it but if not, well its not obvious.
“You must get through a ton of pan stick.”
“Not really, its usually under a top.”
“Why don’t you get it removed? Don’t they use lasers or something?”
“Who says I want to be rid?”
‘You girls coming?’ Dad called up to the eyrie.
“Coming,” I called back, “here, you’ll need these.”
I passed her the slingbacks I usually wear with that dress.
“Cheers.”
“Lets go rock the Brauhaus!”
Maddy Bell © 21.09.2018
Back in England there isn’t really any equivalent to a Brauhaus which is pretty much a pub/restaurant at or associated with a brewery, brau haus, get it? Since we came to Germany we’ve dined at several, they really aren’t that different to any other pub, only difference is that they’ll only serve their own beer – think Dad called it a ‘tied house’. Anyhow the food is usually good traditional and in generous servings – just how I like things!
Jules and Boris were back in Bonn and six in the A Klasse wasn’t happening so once again we had a Taxivan to transport us – Dad gets a chance for a drink too.
“That’s the Rhein,” I advised somewhat redundently as we dropped down to the waterfront.
“Looks well mucky,” Mad opined.
“It’s been collecting silt and all sorts of rubbish all the way from Switzerland,” Mum the ex geography teacher pointed out.
The taxi pulled up outside of our destination and we all clambered out into the evening sunshine. There were quite a few people about but whilst we do come down here for the pool, to change trains and so on I don’t know anyone here. I guess that's not so unusual, I don’t really know that many people in Dernau and we’ve lived there a couple of years now.
“Gab?” Mand hinted, “you coming?”
“Er right there,” the others were already up in the busy garden, I hurried to catch up.
“Whats up?” Mand queried as I joined her at the rear of our little procession.
“Nothing, just thinking about stuff.”
“You don’t want to go doing that.”
“What?”
“Thinking, you could break a nail or something.”
Caught, hook, line and sinker, “get on with you!”
We had an outside table, well its a nice evening and who wouldn’t want to eat al fresco? Somehow its something that doesn’t translate to Blighty, sitting at a wobbly picnic table on the edge of a gastro pub’s car park just isn’t the same. And of course being seen is all part of the act, hence the dressing up, you never know who will see you after all.
I don’t do beer very well so I went with Sprite® even if everyone else was soon sat behind something alcoholic, I think Mad was still bemused by the liberal drinking rules we have.
“So what’re we eating?” my cousin enquired as she tried to make sense of the poorly translated menu.
“Dunno, the Schweinbein looks pretty good.”
“Sounds disgusting,” Mad stipulated.
“Gaby,” Dad warned.
“Yes Dad,” I sighed, okay so its not to everyones taste, “you should be safe with the Roulade, that's beef, bottom of page two.”
Mad found it on the menu, “beef roll with Kroket und saison Gemuse?”
“Potato croquettes and seasonal veg,” Mand supplied, “might go for that myself.”
“Well i’m gonna have the Schweinerkotelett, not had it for a while.”
Of course the adults were having their own discussion of the menu options, Mum and Aunt C favouring the Lachsfillet whilst Dad opted for Lebernödel.
The food was ordered and the conversation went from the upcoming academic year to news from Warsop.
“I saw Woody a couple of weeks back,” I told those gathered.
“In Germany?” Aunt C queried.
“Yeah, he and Brenda were with a coach party up at the Stube, have to say he didn’t look very well, you know, not really with it.”
Mum and Aunt C exchanged looks. What does that mean?
“There’ve been rumours,” Mad’s Mum stated.
“I’ll ring Bren later,” Mater added.
“Ah, food,” Dad allowed as the serving staff arrived with our repast.
It was a nice evening, even if it was a bit weird using English so much, nice but a little bit surreal. I suppose its good practice for when Bern gets here tomorrow but we hardly use English even at home so i’m a little rusty when it comes to full on conversational use. German might not be my ‘mother tongue’ but these days I’m much more comfortable using it than English.
“Thanks for the meal Carol,” Dad supplied as we waited fot our return taxi.
“My pleasure Dave, after what you guys have done for us this week its the least I could do.”
“I told you Carol,” Mum put in, “its not been any trouble.”
“If you say so Jen, dinner’s a small price to pay for our peace of mind.”
Mum turned towards Mad, “just don’t make a habit of it eh?”
“Not likely,” Maddy replied, “wearing the same knickers for three days was well gross!”
“Ew!” Mand and I chorused.
After the Peters had checked in we all walked along the concourse to security.
“Just let me know the dates,” Aunt C mentioned.
“I will, it’ll be nice to see John again,” Mum told her.
“Come on trouble, lets leave these people in peace.”
“Yes mum,” Mad sighed.
“At least you have a passport this time.”
“I could’ve borrowed yours.”
“I do have a spare.”
“I’d best go.”
“See you soon eh,” I proposed, “text when you get back.”
“Yeah, say hi to Bern for me.”
“She’ll be sorry to have missed you.”
“Ha, i’ve not exactly been a good friend lately.”
That was certainly true but nothing I say will change that.
“I’m sure she doesn’t hold a grudge.”
Mad shoved the bag she’d been gripping into my arms, “give this to Drea for me?”
“Sure.”
“Mad?” her Mum hinted.
“Come here,” I pulled her into a hug, “take care eh?”
“And you, good luck in Canada.”
“Thanks, i’ll need it, go before I start crying.”
Well it was already too late to stop that, a couple of salty rivulets were already making their way down my cheeks. I released my grip, Mad, fighting her own tears followed her mum pausing for a last wave before going into security.
Dad gently squeezed my shoulder, “we’ll see them in a couple of months eh?”
“We’ll go see your Gran too,” Mum added.
“Yeah.”
“Come on, best sort out your face before the Rose’s get here eh? you’ve got mascara all over.”
“It’s supposed to be waterproof.”
“Not tearproof though, come on.”
I’d never really thought about it but I guess it makes sense, the plane Mad and her mum are taking back to England is the same one that Bern and Drea are arriving on. There’s something like forty minutes before we’re likely to see them in arrivals so after I sorted my face out the three of us headed for the coffee shop. We’d barely found a table when I spotted Mart and Stefan, his dad.
“Mart! Over here.”
The Preisers changed direction and soon hands were being shaken, extra seats found and more extortionately priced caffeine product purchased.
“Your cousin get off okay?” Mart asked as the ‘rents started talking about the weather or something.
“Well they got through security, your mum not here?”
“The kinder riding class,” he shrugged.
“You okay with this Mart?”
“Course I am.”
I raised an eyebrow, they have grown back in now.
“Okay, okay, look you can’t say anything to Bern right?”
“She is my friend.”
“I know and I wouldn’t do anything to hurt her but you’ve got to promise, please?”
“Hmmph, i’ll think about it so spill.”
“Look, its great they’re coming to stay and all that but to be honest i’m shit scared.”
“You’re scared? Its Bern that's moving home.”
“I know and that's part of it, I really don’t want to muck up Gabs.”
“You’ll be fine, its not like you’ll be doing it all alone is it.”
“Yeah I know but its not just that, its the whole instant dad thing, yesterday I was young free and single, in,” he checked his watch, “Thirty minutes i’m suddenly a family man with a wife and child.”
“You aren’t getting married,” I pointed out.
“Might as well be, I don’t know if i’m ready to commit like this.”
“Shouldn’t you have said something before?”
“It would break Bern, after everything she’s been through how could I say no?”
“Geez Mart, its a bit late to get cold feet.”
“It’s not cold feet.”
“Whatever,” I sighed, “look, it’ll be alright, i’m sure it will, promise me you’ll talk to me if its going pear shaped, keep me in the loop?”
“Now who’s wanting promises, yeah, its the least I can do, I do want it to work, I’m just not sure exactly what Bern is hoping for, you know, romantically.”
“If I know Bern, just someone to hold her when it gets tough.”
“We never did it you know.”
“It?”
“You know, s e x.”
“TMI!”
“You think she’ll want to, you know, do it?”
“Probably, at some point, what about you, I thought it was the main lads obsession?”
“Have you and Max?”
“Not even close, your point?”
“That its mostly just talk.”
“You two coming?” Dad queried through a series of chair scraping and moving.
“Yeah, we’ll catch you up.”
“Don’t be all day, the flight’s in.”
Dad followed Mum and Stefan, as Mart and I drained our overpriced coffee.
“Pact?” I proposed.
“Yeah, come on or they’ll be through before we get there.”
I hardly recognised Bern when she emerged from the luggage carousels, she’s lost weight, she’s always been a bit, er, fuller in the figure but whilst not exactly skinny looked well. That, along with a new haircut and a more ‘mature’ choice of clothing made her look closer to twenty than the seventeen she’ll be in a few weeks. Drea was in one of those sling things whilst the pram was loaded down with their luggage.
Her face literally lit up when she spotted us.
“Mart!”
I prodded him, ”go on dumkopf.”
Well, he didn’t need a second prod, “come here you!”
I let the two of them get reacquainted a bit before interrupting,
“Er guys, the erm taxi’s are waiting?”
“Gab, its so good to be back, how are the Angels?”
“Later, come on, we’ve got to walk to the car park. Mart, pram,” I instructed.
Maddy Bell © 24.09.2018
“So what’s with the hair and stuff?” I asked as we followed everyone through the airport terminal.
“You like? New start, new me.”
“You look er great, I think someone was quite happy with the old you,” I mentioned with a nod towards Mart.
"Its not for him, its for me Gabs.”
“Fine, just saying, hey you’re speaking German.”
“i’ve been practicing.”
“Well you are better than my English is.”
“Give over!”
“Straight up, when the cousins and Nanna were here they had trouble understanding me.”
“You do have an accent, Mum mentioned that last year.”
“Great,” I sighed.
“So you coming up to the farm?”
“For a bit,” I told her chuckling Drea under the chin, “Max is taking me to some party thing tonight.”
“Party?”
“Apparently we’re supposed to wear beach stuff, I am so not going in a bikini. Hey, you and Mart should come.”
Bern gave me a wistful look, “i wish, I can’t expect Erika to babysit on our first night here.”
“I guess, well maybe next time.”
“Yeah,” she agreed with a sigh.
Living on a farm the Preisers have a range of motorised transport at their disposal, tractors, one of those quad bikes, Stefan’s pick up, Erika’s Mercedes and a slightly battered Volkswagen Sharan. It was the latter that we stopped at in the car park.
“So i’ll pick you up at four,” Dad told me as Mart and his Dad stowed the girl’s luggage in the VW.
“’kay.”
“i’ll see you in the week Bernie,” Mum mentioned.
“Sure Mrs B, thanks for, you know.”
“My pleasure, you eating before you go out Gab?”
“Best have something I guess,”
“Okay, tschuss.”
“Tschuss!”
“Nearly forgot, Mad got this for the little un.”
“Er thanks,” Bern allowed taking it from me, “Helen mentioned she’d ended up here.”
“Long story,” I told her, “tell you later.”
“Whatever.”
I switched to my ‘accented’ English, “so how’re your mum and dad taking this?”
“Mum’s not happy but I think she gets why, you know what dad’s like, doesn’t say much but I think he’s okay with it, they’ve talked with Stefan and Erika a few times.”
“Must be hard for them, losing you all over.”
“I’ve hardly been a model daughter have I, druggie, arsonist, jailbird, teen mum.”
“But you’re still their daughter and Drea’s their grandchild,” I pointed out.
“Its not like we’ve disappeared off the face of the earth,” I was told a bit defensively, “they can come visit any time.”
Well that sort of killed the conversation most of the way out to Staffel and the Preiser’s farm cum riding school. We jounced down the lane and into the yard where we found Erika doing something horsey to a saddle.
I hung back as Bern and Erika got re-aquainted.
“Pity you can’t go to the party, everyone’ll be there, last fling before college starts.”
“Who says?”
“Er girlfriend, baby?” I suggested.
“Grandparents,” he countered.
“You’ve already sorted it,” I accused.
“What do you take me for Gaby Bond?”
I gave him a quick one armed hug, “you’re a good man Marty Preiser.”
“Just don’t tell everyone eh?”
“Try not to.”
“Come on, lets get this lot inside.”
“Here,” Bern unceremoniously plonked her daughter into my currently empty arms, “dribble on Auntie Gabs for a bit.”
“Erm.”
The not quite so little toddler squirmed in my arms, straining to see what mum was up to.
“So what exactly are you gonna do now you’re here?”
“As in now?”
“I was thinking more like college or whatever?”
“Well until Drea’s old enough for nursery I’ll help out here on the farm.”
“Never took you for a farm girl,” I offered as I did my best to entertain the younger Rose girl.
“Woman if you please.”
I did an eye roll, there’s Mad thinks she’s Lara Croft and this one is clearly aiming at becoming some upper class totty.
“Whatever, so has the ‘woman’ got a party frock?”
“Not really, I hardly get the chance to go partying do I?”
“You must have something,” I pressed, “I dunno, even like some sports gear?”
“Thats hardly party stuff is it?”
“Could be,” I suggested.
“What are you up to Bond?”
“Nothing, just interested.”
Drea added a bit of a chuckle.
“Hmm, I’ve got like a tube dress, just in case.”
“Just in case?”
“You know, in case Mart takes me out or something.”
“Well lets see then,” I demanded.
“Thanks for coming up Gab,” Mart told me.
“Its what friends do.”
“Well I appreciate it and I’m sure Bern does.”
“If you say so, look that’s my transport, see you two at Mayschoß later?”
“All organised, Mum’s having Drea and Dad’ll bring us down, don’t think we’ll stay too long.”
“As long as you come.”
“We’ll be there.”
“Everything okay?” Dad asked as we jounced back out to the road.
“Think so.”
“The Preiser’s are good people.”
“I know, Mart’s an absolute brick, I’m just not sure Bern’s ready to do the farming thing like twenty four seven.”
“Give her a chance kiddo.”
“I know.”
“Your mother said she can stay with us if she needs a break, I’m sure she’ll be okay.”
“You’re probably right,” I admitted.
Mum gave a hmph of not quite disapproval at my party outfit, or lack of. Not the white bikini, no way, but I’ve got others and this cerise number with its frills is quite modest – for a bikini and I have got a sort of sarong affair adding a bit more erm, modesty. Its not like I’m alone, Manda has a similar ensemble although she’s got a one piece cossy on.
“You meeting Max up there?” Mum enquired.
“Yeah, Mr T’s taking us and Steff up, you think maybe?”
“I’ll ask him.”
“Thanks Mummy!”
“Save you’re buttering up for your father, you taking coats, it could be cold later.”
“Ta da!” Mand brandished a fleece.
“Gab?”
I sighed, parents! “I’ll go get one.”
Ever been to a beach party – without a beach? I mean, the sea is like three hundred K away, oh there are some sort of beaches along the river but they don’t really count do they. Unless they’re on holiday in Spain or something the nearest most people round here get to a beach are the artificial things at the outdoor Schwimbad. Which made the sight of a couple of hundred teenagers bopping to the Beach Boys outside the Weinkellar all the more incongruous.
“There you are,” Max stated.
“Someone wasn’t ready,” I scowled towards Steff.
“I couldn’t find my flip flops.”
“Whatever.”
“Come on, you can dump your coats, then we can get some drinks.”
“Now you’re talking Maxxie boy,” Con stated grabbing my boyfriends arm.
“Hey, hands off Thesing!”
Everyone is here, people I’ve not seen since the end of school, a few from the previous years leavers and everyone intent on having a good time. Of course I don’t know everyone, I’m pretty sure some are from like Adenau and stuff, you don’t have to be a Silverburg alumni to come.
We’d been bopping away for best part of an hour before a poke in the ribs got my attention.
“Hey!”
“Is this a private party or can anyone join?”
“Bern!”
“In the flesh so to speak,” she agreed as I gave her a hug.
“Thought you didn’t party?”
“My Mann thinks otherwise so here I am, Erika has pulled Drea duty.”
“So where is this paragon of the dance floor?”
“Something about drinks? Max?”
“The same, nice frock by the way.”
“You knew didn’t you Bond, earlier when I was unpacking.”
“Er might of,” I allowed.
So okay, the beverages were entirely non alcoholic, a variety of brightly coloured cocktails with a tendency towards coconut and exotic fruit. The buffet on the other hand was more traditional finger food although some seafood had managed to elbow its way onto the tables. And the music, well we were ‘treated’ to sets by three local bands, each doing covers of what you might loosely term ‘beach pop’, not really my thing but in this context, spot on.
Max silently pointed off to one side as we slow danced at an advanced stage of the evening. I steered us around so I could see what he was indicating. There they were, the Preisers, well if I get lumped as von Strechau Bern can be a Preiser, anyhow, there they were in a tight mooch, Bern with a dreamy look on her chops.Mart noticed me watching and gave me a cheesy grin, I guess my over protective concern may be ill founded, for now at least it looks like all is well up at Staffel.
“Someone looks happy,” Max noted.
“Hope it stays that way,” I opined.
“It’ll be alright.”
“I hope so, come on you, there’s a spot down by the river,” I suggested to my Mann.
He didn’t need asking twice.
Maddy Bell © 24.09.2018
Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
My arm flailed out and after a couple of attempts the alarm was silenced. Urgh, why me? I untangled myself from the duvet, we might be having an extended summer but it gets a bit chilly in the wee hours, then blearily made my way to the en suite. Seven o’clock on a Sunday morning and there’s not even a race involved.
I guess its only fair that I do the kiosk today, I’ve missed so many shifts lately what with one thing and another, Con’s been a regular brick. Its only fair that Con gets today off but it doesn’t make it any easier to get myself up. Of course, last nights party hasn’t exactly helped, it was midnight before we got home and i’m sure some of those fruit cocktails had been spiked with something a bit more potent.
“You want a lift up?” Dad asked joining me in the kitchen half an hour later.
“Think i’ll ride up, clear the cobwebs a bit.”
“Sounds like a good idea, what about after work, you coming straight home?”
That sounds like a leading question, “what else would I be doing?”
“Manda needs a ride, thought maybe she could meet you and come the long way back.”
“I’ll be kernackered.”
“A few miles should help then.”
Damn, he’s got me there, a good ride after school or work always seems to clear my head and recharge the batteries.
“I guess, if she’s up for it,” I allowed, “guess i’d better change then.”
Yeah, I might get away with street togs for a few kilometres but a proper ride needs the right gear.
“later!” I called to anyone who was listening, I readjusted my mini backpack and pushed off for the short ride to the kiosk.
It was a bit cool in the shadows but by the time I got along to Rech I’d warmed up enough to not take notice. Of course, nine o’clock on a Sunday morning is pretty quiet on the Weinstraße, makes a nice change to the stream of traffic during the week. I hadn’t really intended to but I was soon slipping along at thirty Kph, humming along to the last song on the kitchen radio this morning, bizarrely ‘A Day In The Life’ by The Beatles.
How many times have I travelled this road? More than a few, sometimes several times a day, certainly enough to know every lump and bump, turn and junction between Dernau and Altenahr. Its barely seven kilometres, fifteen minutes usually but it barely felt like five before I was propping my steed up against the kiosk’s back wall.
Strictly speaking I don’t start for a while yet but by getting here early I can get changed and started up ahead of time. Kris and Nen are in today but i’ve got about thirty minutes before they, and Herr Thesing arrive’s with the bread and cake. It was the work of moments to secure the bike in the bin hole before getting changed for the day’s graft.
“Gott, did you see Rudi?” Nen’s voice queried.
“Who was that with him?” Kris asked in return.
“The blonde?”
“Yeah, that bikini was a bit tiny.”
“No kidding,” Nen agreed, “morning Gabs!”
“Morning, Phamie.”
“Eh?” she replied.
“It was Phamie,” I reiterated.
“Never!” Kris opined.
“Straight up.” I confirmed.
“Guess she’s been dieting,” Nen suggested, “I certainly wouldn’t have worn that.”
“Me either,” Kris added as she tied her apron, “so we ready?”
“Apart from the Brötchen, Mr T is late.”
“I’ll do the shutters,” Nen volunteered.
“Guess i’ll do the tables then,” Kris sighed.
Those few minutes make all the difference, I’d got the hot plate on, till started and garden furniture unlocked and got a cup of coffee out of the machine before the others arrived. I was just about to ring the bakery when on the stroke of nine, along with the church bells, Connie’s dad arrived with our day’s bread order.
“Sorry i’m late girls, everything okay?”
“So far,” I told him, might be busy if it stays like this.”
“Lets hope so,” he agreed as he tipped the rolls into the bin under the counter. (Dur, not rubbish bin, we keep them in a couple of plastic boxes.)
“So what torte do we have today?”
“Schwarzwald, mandarin, double chocco and i’ve put you a couple of custard and apple strudel in.”
“Can’t go wrong with strudel,” I observed.
“Indeed, you want to fetch them, I need a coffee.”
“’kay,” I agreed, the price of having a close relationship, for Con literally, with your suppliers.
Of course, being Sunday there’s no visit from Max, maybe that's as well as we were quite busy from about ten thirty all the way through to about two. Maybe we didn’t have the Dutch tourists but we did have plenty of more local trippers making the best of the weather. We even had Hen and his mates stop by, sounded like they’d been over Mayen way, you know, where Con’s starting college tomorrow.
“Looking forward to Canada?” he asked as I took the dirty crockery from him.
“Sort of,” I allowed, “bit nervous actually.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“Hope so.”
“Me and the lads’ll be rooting for you, we’re hardly a hotbed of racing around here and to have you on the national team really means something.”
“Er thanks,” I think, “i’ll try not to let you down.”
“Gaby, you can’t let us down, just by one of ‘ours’ being selected you’ve made it in our eyes.”
it would’ve been churlish to point out that i’m not exactly what I appear and that just a few months ago I was riding for the ‘old enemy’, Groß Brittania!
“Thank’s, i’ll do my best.”
“We know you will, however things turn out you’ll be a winner in our eyes.”
I felt my face start to flush, damn hormones.
“Come on lads,” Hen turned to his mates, “three cheers for the next Weltmeisterin! Hip hip.”
“Hurrah!”
“Hip hip.”
“Hurrah!”
“Hip hip.”
“Hurrah!”
Talk about embarrasing. Of course all the other patrons decided to join in, just on principal, not only that but my friends were quite vocal too.
“Thanks guys,” I stammered before my emotions got the better of me.
“You alright Gab?” Nen enquired a couple of minutes later having ‘found’ me in the store room sat on a box sniffling.
“Yep,” I squeaked.
“You want a drink?”
“Please, just water.”
“Coming up.”
I dried my eyes, good job I didn’t do the mascara this morning, nothing worse than red Panda eyes, red’s bad enough.
“Here you go,” Nen returned and handed me a glass of H²O.
“Thanks.”
“They’re right you know,” she stated.
“About?”
“About the valley being behind you.”
“Be daft,” I suggested with a forced chuckle.
“I’m not, the Ahrtal doesn’t have a lot going for it.”
I interrupted, “lets see, a couple of castles, a spa, the Villa, the Altstadt.”
“Come on Gabs, that’s hardly unique even round here, yeah we get a few tourists but we’re hardly world famous. The football team is strictly local, our main export is water, more people know Apollinaris from the cycling than the water. Like it or not you are the poster girl for the Ahrtal.”
What’s the point of arguing, whilst I might not agree with the latter she’s pretty much right about the rest. I sipped at the water.
“What about you, don’t tell me i’m your hero too?”
“Okay I won’t.”
“Nen, really?”
“Gab, you might not realise it but even Frau Waldesch next door follows your results, local girl made good.”
“But i’m not, local that is.”
“Where do you live?”
“You know very well where.”
“So who was Weinprinzessin? Who has got the Tal on the TV more times in a year than the last ten? You do charity stuff, the Weihnachtsmarkt, the Tanzklub.”
“I’m hardly the only one.”
“True but stuff happens around you Gab, oh they know you don’t come from here originally but that just reinforces the feeling of Heimat you instill in the valley.”
Well I guess that’s me told.
“You’re quiet,” Mand opined as we turned towards Effelsburg a couple of hours later.
“Eh, oh soz, just something that Nena said earlier.”
“The local hero stuff?”
“How?”
“She told me while you were changing, she’s right you know.”
“Not you too?”
“Be daft Bond, but you hear stuff in the Mühle and on the Express, you might not see it but they are proud of the team and you in particular.”
“Just what I need, a hidden fan club.”
“Don’t mock it.”
“I’m not, not really its just, well having it pointed out ramps up the pressure for Canada.”
“Just do your best eh.”
“Can we talk about something else, hey we could go see Bernie?”
“We’re going the wrong way,” my companion pointed out.
“We can cut back across through Lind to Ahrbrück, its only a few K up to Staffel.”
“I guess, is it okay just to drop in?”
“I’ll ring if you like.”
“Whatever.”
“Mart?”
“Yeah, who’s that?”
“Gab dumkopf, is it okay if me and Mand stop by?”
“Its a bad line, what was that about Mand?”
“Soz, I’m on the bike,” I swapped my Handy to the other ear, “can we stop to see Bern?”
“Oh right, yeah I guess, what time?”
“Half an hour ish?”
“I’ll let her know you’re coming.”
“Cool, see you in a bit, tschussie!”
“Tschuss.”
I closed the phone and slipped the Handy back into my pocket.
“There, done.”
“Come on then,” Mand sighed, "lets get this over with."
Maddy Bell © 28.09.2018
The road into the Preiser place, I think i’ve mentioned before, is a bit of a rut fest, not exactly ideal for skinny tired road bikes but we both managed to navigate the lumps and bumps without mishap. The yard was quiet, no equestrian types at this time on a Sunday afternoon I guess. We parked our steeds and I clacked over to the open door.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
I could hear the strains of music from somewhere within the interior.
“Bern? Mart?” I called.
There was some muffled movement before Bern’s head appeared from the dark interior.
“Gab, wasn’t expecting you yet, Mart said you’d be half an hour, where’s Manda?”
“Here, someone was a bit keen to get here,” de Vreen offered joining me at the door.
“Hiya, so kettles on, thought we could sit in the orchard?”
“Good for me, where’s Drea?”
“Mart’s taken her down to the horses, they’ll be back in a few minutes, go sit and i’ll bring the coffee out.”
We picked our way across to the orchard, the trees currently heavy with fruit, won’t be long before their bounty is ready for collection. I’d never noticed on previous visits but there was a brown plastic table and chair set under the boughs, we both seated ourselves and divested ourselves of mitts and helmets.
“Nice,” Mand opined.
“Yeah, I could do this all the time,” I agreed.
The trees broke the glare of the sun into bite sized chunks, a gentle breeze ruffling the leaves above us, a few insects buzzed about but otherwise it was distinctly restful. I let out a sigh and eased back into the chair and closed my eyes.
“Hi guys.”
I nearly jumped out of my skin and sat bolt upright.
“Mart.”
Mand snickered.
“Where’s Bernie,” he asked shuffling ‘his’ daughter to the other arm.
“Making coffee,” Mand told him.
“I’ll go help.”
“Give me Drea then,” I suggested.
The youngest member of the family was actually asleep in his arms, clearly seeing the horses had a soporific effect on her. We managed the transfer without waking her, I sat back down and tried to get comfortable again.
“Be back in a few,” Mart told us and hurried towards the house.
“Isn’t she cute?” Mand suggested.
“Didn’t think you were into babies.”
“Or you,” she mentioned, “a girl can like kids without wanting any okay?”
“Its not exactly on my ‘to do’ list.”
“Never say never.”
“Whatever.”
The tot in my arms, apart from being heavier and bigger has changed quite a bit since I helped deliver her last year. Obvious of course, but even since their last visit earlier this year she’s changed a lot, she’s less of a floppy mass, more of a miniature person with a significant mop of hair and a grip like iron. I still don’t want one of my own.
“Big day tomorrow then,” Bern suggested after distributing coffee and strudel to everyone.
“It is?”
“You start college right?” she prompted.
“Oh that, yeah.”
“You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
“Its like this all the time,” Mand put in.
“Am not,” I defended myself, “its just difficult to get enthused about more school work.”
“At least you don’t have the five full day thing,” de Vreen mentioned with a sigh.
“We don’t?”
“Course not,” Mart advised, “haven’t you checked your timetable?”
“Not got it yet.”
“Well I bet its only about three days at college,” Mart suggested.
“No getting out of training Gab,” Mand suggested.
“Like that’d happen. What about you Bern, what are you doing tomorrow?” Mand asked.
“Think Erika’s got my day all planned out, need to get registered with a doctor and stuff.”
“Good luck with that,” Mand opined, “took me weeks to get sorted.”
“To be fair,” I interjected, “that was partly due to going to Japan.”
“I think mum’s already done the groundwork,” Mart advised.
We didn’t stay too long, Drea needed feeding and we had an hour’s ride over Heckenbach before getting home. Its not like we can’t go see them again, they’re here to stay after all, here to live, become part of the Preiser family. How weird is that, of all my friends back in Warsop I’d’ve said Bern was the least likely to become a delinquent, get pregnant or leave home for foreign parts yet here we are.
“Aren’t you ready yet?” an exasperated Mum queried.
“Nearly.”
“You’re going to college not a society wedding.”
“This week,” I heard Dad mutter from across the kitchen.
“I need to make an impression.”
“Well make it on the way, if you don’t leave two minutes ago you’ll miss your lift,” Mater adsvised.
“Bum!” I slammed the massy brush into its tube, “laters!”
I got out to the agreed pick up point at exactly the same time as my ride.
“Morning,” I offered slipping into the back seat next to Max.
“Said she’d be here,” Max stated.
“Olaf,” the driver told me as he offered a hand.
“Gaby,” I returned giving the digits a quick shake.
“Never said she wouldn’t be,” Freddy grumped.
Our driver already had us moving, I quickly found the seatbelt as we took off towards Ahrweiler and the autobahn. Olaf drove with the confidence of regularity and once on the motorway it was flat out, outside lane stuff, I found myself reaching for Max’s hand. Its not that we were switching lanes or anything rather that we were travelling somewhat faster than i’m used to, the Astra’s engine straining at the effort as we sat in a hundred and fifty kph convoy of commuters passing the commercial traffic heading south.
Its a bit over sixty five kilometres, from Dernau to central Koblenz took a tad over forty five minutes, ten of which was negotiating the town centre. No one said anything on the drive down, Olaf was lost in the heavy metal coming from the stereo, the rest of us in our own thoughts. Max, Freddy and I bailed at the entrance to the Assembly car park, step one complete.
“See you later?” Max suggested a few minutes later.
“Maybe, once i’ve got my timetable i’ll let you know.”
“Come on Max, we can get coffee before we go in,” Freddy suggested to my boyfriend.
“Be right there,” Max told him, “good luck Gabs.”
“You too,” I replied before reaching up to exchange a kiss.
“Come on man, put her down already.”
We separated and suddenly I was alone, well there were people about but you know what I mean. I took a deep breath and headed towards the business school around which a lot of teens were gathering. Come on Gab, you can do this.
Am I the only one here who doesn’t know someone else? It certainly seemed like it as I made my way through the crowds gathered around the building as everyone seemed to be chatting in groups large and small. Of course I headed for the front entrance which was solid with the new student body, not fun when you are my size, what did my tutor say about getting in? A gave myself a head slap, you dozy blonde Gaby Bond, I turned on my heel and headed back the way i’d come.
A couple of people entered the ‘back’ door ahead of me but once inside it was a veritable ocean of calm. I found my way up to the lecture theatre that Fr. Olafsdottir had shown me the other week and slipped in to join the couple of other nervous looking newbies who’d beaten me to it. Where to sit, down the front, up at the back, somewhere in the middle?
“Ah, Fraulein Bond, you made it then.”
I turned to find my tutor, “er yeah, good morning Fr. Olafsdottir.”
“Lisbet will do Gaby, this isn’t the Gymnasium, we’re all adults eh?”
“Er yeah, I guess,” I allowed.
“Come on, sit yourself down, lets see who else listened to my instructions eh?”
She guided me along to the far side of the room, plonking her briefcase on a table, the unspoken suggestion was that I sit myself at the end of the front row – great.
The instructions had been clear, room L2 at nine, I checked my watch, five past and so far there were just seven of us in the room including Lisbet. For her part she didn’t seem to be concerned, looking over some papers and just occasionally looking over the top of her glasses at the clock on the wall behind the seating. Extra bodies slunk into the room and slid into seats, it was gone quarter past before Lisbet crossed to the door and closed it.
“Good morning everyone, I’ve already met some of you, I’m your main course tutor Lisbet Olafsdottir. This, people, is a place of learning, key to learning is listening and reading instructions, a simple enough task but apparently one that more than half of you have already failed to manage. Gaby, which entrance did you use please?”
Sugar, picked on already, of course all eyes turned my way as I answered, “er Poststraße?”
“And what time did you get here, at the lecture theatre?”
“Quarter to nine?”
“Quarter to nine people, so young Gaby here has got herself from the Ahrtal to Koblenz and followed my instructions to get here ahead of time. Joshua, which entrance did you use please?”
“The front door.”
He was a tall lad, he looked a bit cocky, full of himself even but Lisbet’s question seemed to throw him a bit.
“And what time did you join us up here?”
“Must’ve been nine I guess,” he suggested.
“In fact Herr Frönstedt it was eleven minutes past and you live in Pfaffendorf which is, two thousand meters away?”
“I guess,” Frönstedt allowed.
“In future people, our sessions will start promptly at the time shown on your timetables, if you are more than five minutes late you will be excluded from that session. I, and your other tutors do not give instructions for our benefit, we are here to teach you, if you delay or interrupt lectures with bad timekeeping you are not just disrespecting us but also your fellow students. This may not be your old Gymnasium, that doesn’t mean however that our standards are any different. In a moment i’ll pass out your timetable for this semester, check it over, if you have any issues with any aspect come to see me after this session.”
She looked out at us briefly before speaking again, “Gaby, if you could do the honours please, the first pile on the table.”
Two hours later we’d been introduced to the other tutors for this semester, made our own introductions to the class and been dismissed for the day.
‘Finished,’ I tabbed into my Handy after finding a quiet spot in the library. ‘meet for lunch? G’
I hit send before pulling out the reading list Lisbet had given us, day one and we’ve got more homework to do than for a whole term at Silverberg.
My Handy chirped with a reply from Max, ‘meet u at front 1std xxx M’
Oh well, guess I can get started on this lot then.
Maddy Bell © 28.09.2018
At Silverberg, and I guess secondary level schools everywhere, things were much different. None of this looking in the library stuff, the teachers gave us handouts or there were set text books we used. The only handouts we got today were the actual reading list for this semester and some notes on how to navigate the library, great help.
Once I found the right set of shelves it was actually quite straightforward and I soon had an armful of books. I’m supposed to read this lot? I returned to the desks and started ticking stuff off the list, i’d just finished when my Handy buzzed from my bag, sugar Max.
‘? r u? M’
I quickly tapped out a reply and pressed send.
‘5mins G’
I gathered everything up and headed for the checkout desk. Now i’m not exactly a regular library visitor so I was a bit bemused at the process. Swipe my ID card then scan the barcode stuck on the back of each volume, press OK then a sort of receipt was spewed out. i’m glad Mum talked me out of wearing heels, with my arms full of books navigating the steps to the world outside was bad enough in flats.
“Gab, over here!”
I looked about and spotted Max sat on a bit of wall and changed direction towards him.
“Soz, I lost track of time.”
“Guessed that,” he told me before planting a kiss on my forehead, “some light reading eh?”
“Tell me about it,” I agreed with a roll of the seeing equipment, “don’t you have books to read?”
“Yeah but i’m buying my own copies of the core stuff.”
“That’ll cost a fortune won’t it?”
“There’s only a couple, we get a discount ordering through the lecturer.”
“Wish i’d only got a couple, look at this lot, Management Principles, Basic Management, An introduction to Human Resources – talk about repeating yourself and I don’t have a bag to carry them in.”
“Gis them here, food first then we’ll get you a bag right?”
Lunch, another new experience. There is a sort of student common room but the only sustenance on offer is out of vending machines, crisps, chocolate – you get the idea. So on the days i’m here over lunch i’ll have to bring something or get something locally, of course today I forgot the former (well I was running late) which leaves the latter option.
Of course i’ve been to Koblenz many times before, shopping that is, we usually hit Pizza Hut® or Maccy D’s but today i’m not shopping with the girls, i’m a poor student.
“So what’re we eating?”
“There’s a bakery in the Lohr Centre,” he suggested.
Well its not fine dining but its honest enough for a sandwich or slice of pizza and cheaper than burgers or a restaurant.
“Guess it’ll do, there’s a bag shop in there too. So I guess you are done for today?”
“Yeah, just a sort of meet n greet really.”
“Us too, Freddy gone home?”
“Probably, he’s doing a different course so i’ve not seen him since first thing.”
“I thought you were both doing engineering?”
“We are but mine’s mechanical and his is electrical.”
“Oh right.”
“So what’s your timetable like?”
Just over an hour later we’d eaten, I had a ‘book bag’ and we were waiting for our train on the makeshift Lohr station behind the shopping centre. After comparing timetables it looks like i’ll usually be travelling alone back up to Dernau, I don’t get classes on Monday and the other days we finish at different times so unless we’re hitting the library our days together end when Olaf drops us off. Oh well, i’m sure we’ll live.
The train arrived and we joined the other students and shoppers travelling back along the Rhein. Of course this is the stopping train, we could get the express which only stops at Andernach before Remagen whereas this one stops at every pebble. Its only day one and i’m already commuter weary!
If i’d been expecting or even hoping for a makeout session I was quickly disapointed, Max‘s attention was on his Handy. Well two can play at that game, I flipped my own device open and hit the speed dial for Con.
“Gab,” my BF told me.
“Thats me, so how’s Mayen?”
“Sorry, hang on, let me get somewhere quieter.”
There was a bit of a delay then she came back on the line.
“That’s better, what were you saying?”
“Just asking how its going?”
“Pretty good, you only just caught me, i’ve got another class in like two minutes, oh there’s a couple of girls from Remagen on the course so we can come together, swap notes and stuff, what about you?”
“I think the rest of my lot are from around Koblenz, we’re on the way home now.”
“Max too?”
“Yeah, he’s mucking with his phone.”
“Boys!”
“Tell me about it.”
“Look, got to go, Petra’s waiting for me, speak later okay?”
“Yeah, laters.”
“Ciao!”
I nudged Max, “our stop.”
“Oh right,” he put his phone away and grabbed his bag to follow the other departing passengers.
“So what’s been so interesting on your Handy?” I asked as we made our way through the underpass to Gleis 4 and the waiting Ahrtal Express.
“Just checking in with the lads on the course.”
“You were only there a couple of hours ago,” I pointed out.
“Mo wants to start a five-a-side team.”
“Mo?”
“Maurice, there’s a league Wednesday nights.”
“Didn’t think you were that into kick ball?”
“I’m not, not like Mart but its a bit of fun with the lads yeah?”
“I guess, there any girls on your course?”
“Well I think Phil might be Homo but no card carrying females.”
He’s been there one day, not even a full day and he’s become a full on football loving male chauvinist pig!
“That you Gab?” Dad’s voice enquired when I eventually slumped into the house.
“Yeah, you want tea?” I called back.
“Wouldn’t mind,” he allowed coming out into the hall, “you’re early.”
“Late really,” I sighed as I toed my shoes off, “we were done by twelve.”
“So how’d it go?”
“Got some reading to do,” I advised swinging the bag full of literature onto the kitchen table.
“Looks like you’ve got a forest full there.”
“Did you have all this reading when you were at uni?” I asked, filling the kettle for the tea.
“Some but it was more practical stuff most of the time.”
“I can’t believe I have to read all this, some of these are like a couple of hundred pages long.”
“You sure you’ve got to read them all?” Dad suggested.
“They’re on the reading list.”
“Lets have a look.”
“Help yourself its in the bag” I told him as sorted out the tea stuff.
“So?” I asked a couple of minutes later as I plonked the teapot on the table.
“Didn’t you read the list?”
“Course I did, they’re all on it.”
“Thats not what I mean, see here,” he turned the list round so I could see it, “Basic Management, chapter three, pages 78 to 83 so that's five maybe six pages to read.”
“Out of that whole book?”
“Out of the whole book,” he agreed, “you need to get in tune with this stuff kiddo or you’ll waste a lot of time on stuff that's not relevant.”
“Why don’t they tell you?”
“They have, you just need to know the code.”
“So these others are the same?”
“Yup,” he poured his tea, “there’s probably only about fifty pages to read out of all this pile.”
“Phew.”
“Happier now?”
“Much.”
“So are you packed for Wednesday?”
What do you think? Of course i’m not, well my cycling kit is because Mum sorted it for me the other day but off bike stuff, not a chance. After promising to do the packing after cheer I got changed before rustling up egg on toast for everyone. Mum was back from training and Mand from her first day back in Bonn, no one wanted too much, some of us from practical pre exercise reasons, others in expectation of pizza later!
My second day at college started pretty much the same as the first except I was early enough to pick up some lunch in Thesing’s on the way to the pick up point. The ride down was much the same and I once more found myself gripping Max’s hand, well it felt nice if nothing else. Its the first proper classes today, i’ve done about half the reading list so i’m all primed and ready, I found the room for the first class and headed in.
“Gaby, a moment please,” Lisbet requested as we filed out of the room after our last session of the day.
I moved to one side to let my classmates pass, “er sure.”
We were soon alone at which point my lecturer ushered me out and followed herself, “so what do you think?”
“Well its only like the first day,” I mentioned.
“But first impressions are important Gaby.”
“Well its different to the Gymnasium, all the reading and stuff.”
“What about the travelling, its what, two hours to get here?”
“I’m getting a lift with my boyfriend and his mate, its less than an hour by car.”
“Do you think the travelling will be an issue?”
“Only if I miss my lift, Olaf, that’s Freddie’s brother, works for the Region so he comes every day.”
“Freddy is your boyfriend?”
“No that's Max, Freddy’s his mate, we all went to Silverberg together, they are doing engineering.”
“I see, but you are away for a week now yes?”
“I should be back here next Wednesday I think.”
“I’ll make sure there are some notes for you when you get back.”
“Thanks, I don’t want to get behind straight off the bat.”
“Straight off the bat, interesting turn of phrase but very apt.”
“Its something Dad says,” I advised.
By now we were outside her office.
“Wise man, well good luck in…?”
“Canada,” I filled in.
“Indeed, you did tell me before and we’ll see you next week eh?”
“I’ll be here.”
well I certainly hope I will be, I don’t want a repeat of last year in Denmark, hospital visits and stuff. I realised Lisbet had disappeared as I daydreamt so I headed to the Library, Mum suggested I photocopy some of the other papers i’m supposed to read so I can take them to Canada. I guess I might have some time to kill, on the flights at least.
Maddy Bell © 29.09.2018
“Gabs, where are you?”
I looked at my watch, ten to five, oh bum, i’m supposed to be meeting Max to get the five o’clock train.
“Er, on my way?” I whispered back – well it is a library.
Max sighed down the phone line, “you’re not are you?”
“I lost track of time, sorry.”
“You want me to come and meet you?”
“No, i’ll come straight up, we can catch the half past?”
“Okay, meet you at the crossing.”
“tschuss!”
I'd already started packing my stuff up as I spoke to Max, I quickly shuffled the remaining stuff into a pile, shovelled it into my bag and, after dropping the papers and magazines in the returns bin, set off for the Lohr Centre. Its not a long journey, a thousand metres tops, but mix in crossing roads, dodging other pedestrians and having to divert around parked vehicles and a ten minute walk easily stretches to fifteen or more. I spotted Max across the final crossing and waved.
“Come on, we should just get it,” he suggested as I reached him.
“Bags of time, its only ten past,” I pointed out.
“The five o’clock is running late, come on.”
He grabbed my hand and pretty much dragged me through the shopping centre and out onto the platform, arriving just as the delayed train hissed to a halt.
“Come on you two!” Freddy called from along the platform.
A moment later, I was stuffed into the carriage amongst the other commuters.
“That was close,” I allowed.
“Didn’t think you were gonna make it,” Freddy opined.
“Me either,” Max agreed, “so what was so interesting in the library Gab?”
“Erm, business modeling?” I suggested.
Both lads just rolled their eyes.
“Good luck for the weekend,” Max told me after releasing his grip on my lips.
“Thanks, think i’m gonna need it.”
“What, the famous Rennraderin is nervous?”
“Realistic,” I stated, “there are some good riders coming through and the German squad isn’t that strong.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“We’ll see, I’d best go in, i’m not packed yet.”
We played another short bit of tonsil hockey before Max set off up to Rech and I headed into Chateaux Bond.
“There you are,” Dad greeted as I dropped my bag in the hall and kicked off my ballet flats.
“Here I am,” I agreed.
“You going for a ride?”
“I need to pack,” I pointed out.
“I was only going to suggest an hour or so, Manda’s already upstairs changing.”
“Okay, but i’m not cooking when I get back.”
“Your Mum’s got dinner in hand, so scoot.”
“Wish I was going,” Mand sighed as we rolled along through Esch.
“I wish you were going, all this political stuff really sucks.”
“Just make sure you bring a gong back.”
“I’ll do my best,” I assured her.
“As long as you beat the BC lot.”
“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t’ve got picked if I had been eligible.”
“Which really is stupid, don’t BC want to win?”
I gave a shrug, “Dad says they’re looking to do well on the track, more bang for their bucks.”
“You not fancy doing that? You were really good when we were doing it last year.”
“I prefer the fresh air, all that effort for a thirty second race, ut uh.”
“Those sessions I did with Roni last winter were pretty good, better than sat on the turbo.”
I couldn’t argue that, almost anything is more fun than turbo training.
“Beat you to Schönberg,” she went on to challenge.
“In your dreams de Vreen,” I replied as she sprinted ahead.
“Which terminal is it?” Mum asked as we approached Frankfurt airport the following morning.
“One,” I replied from the back seat, I’d been chanting the instructions in my head all the way down, terminal one, area B, Lufthansa check ins.
“You okay kiddo?” Dad queried.
“Yeah, I guess, wish you guys were coming.”
“Us too Gab,” Mum pointed out but of course with Mum not selected by BC and the German Federation running a stripped down team they’d have to pay their own way.
“You’ll be alright kiddo,” Dad told me.
Of course I’ve flown before, even from Frankfurt but nevertheless the sheer size of the place never ceases to amaze me. From the huge multistorey car park to the immense plaza of check in desks and more shops than Ahrweiler, it really is an experience. I watched as a succession of jets descended over the autobahn, my stomach bobbling with nervous anticipation.
We turned off and Dad soon had us squealing around the Terminal One car repository, how come all car parks make the tyres squeal like that? We’ve borrowed Hen Pinger’s Passat estate so we could get both bikes in, the A Klasse is too small and the Hymer – well where could we park that at the airport? Anyhow we were soon parked and the three of us set off for the terminal, each towing a bag, Mum and Dad my bikes, me my actual suitcase.
Try getting two bike boxes and the rest in one of those lifts – why did they make them so small? Anyhow we finally reached the terminal proper and after a short walk through the departure concourse arrived at the rendezvous point.
“Ah Dave, Gaby, you are here,” Frank Obermeyer greeted, “and the famous Jenny Bond.”
“That’s us,” Mum agreed.
“Well lets get this junge Mädel checked in eh?”
We followed him across to a check in desk where a clerk was waiting for us – no queuing for us.
“Where’re the others?” I asked.
“Annika has taken them through security, now you are here we are only waiting for Degenkolb and Martin.”
“And I thought we were late.”
“Ach, there is time yet,” Frank allowed before addressing the check in girl, “So Gabrielle Bond.”
I passed my little used German passport over before heaving my case onto the belt.
“One case and two bicycles?” the woman asked.
“Er yeah, my road bike and my time trial one.”
“This is the one I told you about,” Frank interrupted.
“Ah okay.” she tabbed away at her keyboard for seemingly ages before the printer started chattering away producing labels and so on.
My case disappeared out of sight followed, after Dad heaved each bike box onto the belt, my steeds for the battle ahead.
“Have a good flight and good luck in the races,” the girl mentioned as she returned my passport along with the boarding card.
“Thanks,” I allowed in return.
“You want us to take her through to security?” Dad offered when I returned with Frank to where my parents were waiting.
“That would be useful Dave, its Gate sixteen when you get through Gaby, you should see the others somewhere there.”
“Gate sixteen,” I repeated.
And so the three of us headed towards security.
Mum hugged me tightly, “just do your best daughter.”
“It’s gonna be weird without you guys.”
“We’ll be watching,” Dad told me, “Eurosport are covering everything this year.”
I sighed, “hardly the same though.”
“You’ll be fine kiddo,” Mum stated, “bring us back another gong for the cabinet eh.”
“I’ll try.”
“Jen?” Dad mentioned.
She drew a breath, “sorry Gab, no pressure right, just enjoy the racing, if it happens it happens and remember, winners...”
I interrupted, “don’t look back, I know.”
“Come on you two, lets get you away kiddo,” Dad suggested.
I gave the Rents a last wave and followed the flow of passengers into the bowels of the departure area.
I guess a lot of you have done this stuff, the security and immigration before you are finally allowed into the Gate area. Today it wasn’t too bad, minimal undressing at the former and an almost cursory glance at the passport of Bond, Gabrielle Andrea before I emerged into the last element of containment before reaching the plane. I looked around for direction, gate sixteen, ah down past the coffee bar.
“Bond, over here!”
I looked about and finally spotted the hailer and headed over.
“Heya,” I allowed when I reached the small group sprawled around a couple of tables.
“Thought you’d dipped on us,” Tal suggested.
“As if, hi Paul.”
“Hi Gab, everyone, this is the famous Bond Mädel.”
I rolled my eyes, “hi Iz.”
“Heya.”
“Hi Gaby, Annika,” the other occupant of the seats advised offering a hand.
“Um hi,” I returned shaking her hand.
“You want a coffee or something?”
“She’ll have a Cappucino,” Tal opined.
“It’ll do,” I agreed.
“So this everyone?” I asked after Annika left to fetch my coffee.
“Yup,” Paul agreed, “the mechanic and girls manager flew out yesterday.”
“We get our own manager?”
“Don’t get too excited Gab, this is hardly the British team,” Tal noted.
“The others behind you?” Isolde asked.
“Frank was waiting for them when I came through,” I told them as I found a seat amongst the bags and jackets.
“Tony’s always late, he missed the start a couple of weeks ago in Dresden,” Paul advised.
“You been to Canada before Gab?” Izzy enquired.
“Not Canada, we had a school exchange to Virginia when I lived in England.”
“Cool, we had a week in Sweden,” Paul told us.
Tal tugged at my arm, “looks like the others are here.”
We looked down the concourse and easily spotted Frank and the two lads heading towards us. Paul waved and they changed direction to join us.
Loading a big trans Atlantic jet can take some time but Lufthansa are apparently sponsoring the team so we were some of the first to board, not as I thought in coach but in First. Wow, we had a block of seats together on the left side, I bagged a window and spent the next five minutes sorting out reading matter, sweets and so on – well ten hours is a long time to be on a plane. Tal and Izzy shared the row with me and of course we had to test out all the features of the seats.
Eventually though the crew started preparing for our departure, lockers were closed, seat belts checked and garbled instructions came from the flight deck. The engines thrummed as we left the gate, I watched as we trundled through the infield – somewhere across there Mum and Dad will be watching our departure. It seemed to take an age to taxi to the end of the runway, then the engines changed tone and a moment later we were hurtling along the tarmac.
Maddy Bell © 08.10.2018
I don’t know why I was so bothered about a window seat, we were soon up above the clouds, anything below effevtively hidden by the cotton wool clouds that look so pretty against the endless blue skies. I pulled out the pile of photocopied articles i made yesterday and started to read.
“What’s that?” Izzy asked craning over to look.
“Business studies.”
“Sounds boring.”
I shrugged, “its part of my college course.”
“So I guess you aren’t doing General Studies then?”
“Business Management.”
“She already runs a snack bar,” Tal put in.
“Really?”
“Well sort of, it belongs to my friend’s parents.”
“No sort of,” Tal insisted, “Mand says you do all the ordering and stuff.”
Loudmouth de Vreen!
“Its not like i’m a partner or anything, so what’re you doing?”
“Just General Studies for now.”
“Me too,” Tal advised, “second year.”
“Snap,” Izz grinned.
Okay, i’m the baby of the squad, one day I won’t be. Turns out that Izzy is a right gossip, she kept up a continuous stream of conversation for a good hour, in fact it was only the arrival of lunch which shut her up. That’s not to say she was a bore, it was quite entertaining and even informative listening to her.
Lunch was surprisingly good, grilled salmon with mash and cabbage followed by a small tub of vanilla ice cream. Definitely a step up from serf class, we even had real metal cutlery and china plates, yup, you could get used to this. Once the detritus of lunch was cleared Izzy tuned into the cinema, Tal curled up with her book and I settled down for forty winks, Ontario is like five hours behind Germany so its gonna be a long day.
I looked under my arm, I know I shouldn’t but I did anyway. The gap back to the peloton wasn’t much, fifty metres maybe and with a kilometre to go its not enough. A click of the gear shift kept my cadence nice and smooth on the start of the ramp, its not steep but it is draggy.
Its been, for the most part, a pretty boring race. The circuit is pretty flat, not like Holland flat but there’s been nothing to upset the bulk of the riders and so we’ve seen a succesion of suicidal escape attempts before the strongest teams closed things down. For the last forty kilometres its almost been a procession as we’ve all come to the same conclusion, a gallop will decide the title.
Its not like I even planned this move, Tal and Izz were controlling things nicely and I was getting keyed up for a head to head sprint with van Bruggen, the Dutch champion and Anna Jones, the Australian girl. Then Sally Thomas, one of the BC usurpers took a flier, no way was I letting her go so I took chase, she quickly faded leaving me isolated and dangling like a carrot. So here I am, eighty five kilometres in, leading the race, my chances of winning reduced to almost zero.
Almost zero but not absolutely zero. If I can get enough clear road before we get to two hundred I may yet thwart the ambitions of my rivals and take the main prize. Less thinking Bond, more doing, I adjusted my arms into a slightly more aero position and pushed just that little bit harder on the pedals.
The crowd were beating on the barriers, cheering loudly making a wall of sound as I entered the canyon that’ll take me to the line. I caught a glimpse of a screen, the camera view was distorting things, the bunch looks so close but I can’t hear them. Two hundred to go, time to finish this, I changed sprockets, hit the turbo and started my final effort.
“Did I get it?”
“She’s still dreaming,” a voice opined.
There was a tug on my arm, “Gab, wake up.”
“Hmm?”
“She always like this?”
“Nah, worse,” the second voice suggested, “come on Gabs, there’s food.”
“Food, no’ ‘ungry.”
“Definately sickening for something.”
“More for us then,” voice one suggested.
“Izzy?” i queried cracking an eye.
“It lives,” Tali’s voice crowed.
I pulled myself upright, “where are we?”
“Greenland I think,” Iz offered.
“Good dream?” Tal enquired.
Dream?
“Er okay I guess.”
“Here comes the food,” Iz advised flipping her table down in preparation.
Our second feed was a sort of high tea affair, a plate of tiny English style sandwiches with what look like mini muffins – well its free food even if its not a lot. To be fair it wasn’t bad, certainly not the somewhat plastic food you get in the cheap seats. The stewardess had just finished serving us drinks when Frank appeared at the end of our row.
“Okay ladies?”
“Fine thanks,” Tal replied.
“Excellent.”
“Erm, Herr Obermayer, what happens when we get there?” I queried.
“Canada? Well Laurin and Leon will meet us with our transport then its a bit of a drive to the hotel.”
“I thought we were staying in Toronto, near the course?” Tal mentioned.
“The junior events are in London,” the boss advised.
“London?” we chorused.
“Thats not in Canada,” I added.
“Apparently there is a London in Canada too, a couple of hours from Toronto, we should get there for dinner.”
“Ooo!” I allowed.
“Might be a good idea to get a bit of sleep before we land.”
I did end up snoozing again after the latest round of refreshments, so much for reading stuff for college. Somehow I slept through a further round of beverages only waking as we started our descent into Toronto. The view out of the window revealled very little, an expanse of water but not a great deal more, I guess it must be Lake Ontario.
With the time difference it was a little after three local time when we touched down although my body clock was telling me it was after eight. I reckon I slept for about half the flight so at least i’m not too tired although i’m sure, by past long haul experience, it will catch up with me. Toronto Pearson is of course pretty unremarkable, just another collection of terminal arms and concrete, baking in the afternoon sunshine.
Frank and Annika rode herd on their charges and in a surprisingly short length of time we had our baggage collected, with two bikes Tony and i had to resort to trolleys of course. We emerged into a land strangely familiar but at the same time alien, twangy English and yes, our first sighting of scarlet jacketed RCMP officers.
“Frank!”
“Laurin,” our boss man greeted the small dark haired woman who joined us.
“You got through quickly, Leon’s gone to fetch the bus.”
“Any trouble?”
“Nope, not so far, lets get these guys to the hotel eh.”
“Erm,” izzy put in with a raised hand, “any chance of using the facilities?”
Bum, I hadn’t wanted to go but now my bladder feels ready to burst.
Our transport turned out to be a big Mercedes bus with a box trailer hitched behind – I had wondered how we were going to get us and all our gear around. Leon, our driver and mechanic for the champs, already had the trailer open when we reached him. Eight bikes, Leon’s tools, Laurin’s massage table and all our cases pretty much filled the trailer, ten of us in the bus did at least leave a couple of empty seats.
Once we were loaded Leon took the wheel and soon we were on the Canadian motorway system. The adults had occupied the front most seats and were soon deep in conversation which left us to our own devices. What that meant in reality was that we each found a corner and made ourselves reasonably comfortable for the next leg of the journey.
I hadn’t intended falling asleep again but the scene beyond the bus windows was uninspirational, if it wasn’t for a few unfamiliar brands on roadside hoardings we could easily have been down in America, the US of A.
“We there?” Izz asked as she stretched a couple of hours later.
“Five minutes,” Laurin called back.
Outside, the early evening was pretty much the same as it had been in Toronto, by the lack of jackets on the locals i’m guessing quite warm – we’ve been cosseted by the bus’s air con. Our accomodation turned out to be a chain hotel, the Lamplighter Inn, think posh motel and you wouldn’t be far off. We stiffly climbed down, collecting our suitcases before heading inside where Frank was using his best broken English to get us sorted out.
“Ah Gaby, can you help please.”
“Er sure, what’s up?”
“My English is not so good, could you check I have things right please.”
“Um okay,” I turned to the slightly bemused desk clerk, “um hi, can you go through that again please.”
“You speak English, sorry I don’t know German,” she apologised.
“No problem, so how far did you get?”
With me racting as interpreter it only took a couple of minutes to get us checked in, I was surprised that whilst the adults were in a couple of twins, each of us riders had our own room. A step up from BC or even Apollinaris, not that i’m against sharing but sometimes you just need you’re own space. Keys were distributed and directions given.
“We’re booked in the restaurant for eight,” I concluded.
“Thanks Gaby,” Frank told me, “so go get settled in and we’ll go through the programme for tomorrow after dinner.”
We trooped across to the lifts and once we’d worked out which floor was which – yeah calling the ground floor first will confuse Europeans everytime, we were soon at our rooms.
“Should we dress for dinner?” Tal asked as I fumbled with my key card.
“Dunno, probably.”
“Seriously?” Izz queried.
“Didn’t you bring anything?”
“Well nothing exactly posh.”
“Who said anything about posh,” Tal chuckled, “team Gabs?”
“Dad insisted.”
“Team?” Izzy looked perplexed.
“Yeah, we have an official off bike uniform, just put on a frock or something smartish, we’ll show up the lads eh?” I told her.
“Okay, see you in about half an hour?”
Of course there was some sense in Dad’s suggestion, wearing our team frocks both cut down on luggage and had us looking smart – this time we aren’t just representing Apollinaris but our country too, well adopted in my case. The room was actually a double, not huge but certainly comfortably furnished. I wasted no time in shedding my travel outfit, cargo shorts and a loose T, after something like sixteen hours my intimates were past their best that's for sure.
Knock, knock.
“You ready Gab?” Tal called through the door.
“Yup,” I agreed swinging the door open, “lets go eat.”
“What about Izzy?”
“Right here,” our third member advised, “damn, I feel like a real slob.”
“You look fine,” Tali advised, “come on, i’m starved.”
Of course, whilst we weren’t late we were the last to arrive.
“Heck, everyone’s looking at us,” Izz mumbled.
“Get used to it, its the Bond effect,” Tal snickered back.
“Just because we’re bike riders doesn’t mean we can’t look smart,” I pointed out.
We made our way across to the rest of the German under eighteen squad where Frank and Leon quickly stood and did the seating business.
“I knew I should’ve brought a dress,” Annika sighed.
“Good job she didn’t bring her Kostum,” Tal chuckled.
“So erm, what’re we eating?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
Maddy Bell © 12.10.2018
“I hope you all slept well?” Frank enquired, joining our little party in the breakfast room.
“Could’ve done with another hour,” John blearily suggested.
“Shoulda slept on the flight,” Izzy opined.
Of course that got a very adult response – not!
“Kinder,” I sighed.
“When you are finished,” Frank mentioned. He waited for the offending parties to cease before going on, ”Leon has all your bikes ready, as I told you last night, we’ll go out as a group for a leg stretch this morning then Annika will take Gaby and Tony for a look at the time trial course this afternoon. Questions?”
“What do the rest of us do this afternoon?” Tal queried.
“There’s no programme until this evening so the time is your own all I ask is that you stay close to the hotel and don’t wander off alone. you’ll need be ready to go to the registration at five. That it?”
Silence was the loud reply.
“Okay, so as soon as you’re done here go and see Laurin for your team kit, then if you can be ready for the ride at nine please.”
I checked my watch, less than an hour, i’m glad I did my hair before coming to breakfast.
“Ah Gaby,” Laurin greeted when I reached the improvised kit store .
“Thats me, through to the core,” I joked.
“Well I hope so,” she grinned, “so lets see, bib shorts….”
She went down her list checking the pile of stuff with ‘Bond’ pinned to it, bibs, tights, long and short sleeve jerseys, for some reason two skinsuits and to top it off a new helmet. We might not be a big squad but we’re being looked after well.
“Hope it all fits,” I opined.
“You’re dad sent all your sizes so they should, we had to get your suits custom made, we don’t normally have need of XXS kit.”
Remind me i’m small why don’t you.
“That it?”
“Frank wants you all in the training gear for the ride out.”
“Training gear?” have I missed something?
“Bibs and jersey?” Laurin suggested.
“Oh right okay.”
“Oh, nearly forgot,” she fumbled with a folder then presented me with a sheet of A4, “massage time table.”
“Er thanks,” I plonked it on the top of the pile and scooped the pile up.
With time at a premium I couldn’t try anything on beyond what I needed, it was plenty warm enough for short sleeves and shorts, so I was dressed quite quickly. The new helmet however needed fitting, I was still fiddling with the chin strap when I clacked across to the others outside of reception. There was certainly no doubt that we are a team, all resplendent in our new national team strip.
I felt a bit self conscious though, last year – well even at the start of this year I was rockin’ the predominantly blue and red Team GB kit when I did international duty. Today, for the first time, i’m wearing the black, red and yellow German bands on my white strip. I always felt some pride wearing the GB kit, to be honest i’m not sure what I feel wearing the German jersey.
“You alright with that?” Paul queried seing me fiddling with the straps.
“I can never work out which strap does what,” I admitted. In truth Dad usually sorts it for me.
“Here let me see, you want it shorter?”
I plonked it on my head and showed him, “yeah, about another centimeter?”
“More like two,” he opined taking the casque off my head.
“Everyone here?” Annika asked over the teen mumblings of our squad.
“Now Gab’s is here,” Tal offered.
Well okay, I was last but I was still on time.
“So if everyone is ready, Thalia, you okay with the radio?”
Radio?
“Think so, feels a bit weird,” my teamie observed as she touched the sticking plaster I now saw on her left ear.
“In that case, get your bikes and lets go.”
We’d been getting some curious looks from other guests and a few watched as we collected our bikes and prepared to move out. I was surprised to discover that we would have an RCMP escort out on the road and instead of the minibus the management were in some sort of people carrier, I think they call it a minivan this side of the Atlantic. We rolled out onto the street and of course our little convoy with the flashing red lights drawing even more attention.
“So what’s with the radio?” I asked Tal as we settled into a double line.
“I’m road captain for the day,” I was informed.
“Ah, but a radio?”
“Its only one way, bit over the top if you ask me.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
Thinking about it I do seem to remember hearing that some of the top mens teams use them but come on, we’re just the under eighteen German team.
We rolled along at a very comfortable sub thirty kph, quickly moving from the urban sprawl of London (still makes me chuckle that) and into the more open south Ontario countryside. It was certainly weird seeing signs for places with the most English and Scottish of names, Elgin, Oxford, Southwold mixed with the more unusual. i’d been riding for a few minutes before I realised that both my and Tali’s bikes were different.
No, both our bikes were the same they just weren’t the same as we’ve been riding all season. Whilst the frames, saddle and so on were the same the drivetrains have had a bit of an upgrade to the stuff the senior squad use, yup, we’re now rockin’ Super Record instead of plain old Record. Cool eh, of course there isn’t really much difference in function, the differences are in more exotic materials, carbon and titanium, being used to replace aluminium.
Maybe there are weight advantages but the few grams difference pale compared to the mental side. Okay, it might sound crazy but having a bike decked out with the latest cutting edge kit really adds a filip. Looking around our mini peloton everyone looks to have pimped their rides to some extent, new bar tape, tyres and no doubt more besides.
I grinned to myself.
“What’s so funny?” Izz asked.
We were doing a slow rotation, everyone would at some point be riding with everyone else.
“Nothing really.”
“Oh come on, what’s the tickle?”
“Just thinking, Sunday will be like the blingest junior race of the year.”
“Wotcha mean?”
“Well everyone will be on the best bikes they can, new wheels, even new bikes.”
“Didn’t think anyone would notice,” she replied with a blush.
“What?”
“The new wheels, Dad got them last week.”
“Exactly, just my point.”
“So what’ve you got?”
“New helmet for Friday and these,” I flicked at my Ergo’s.
“Campag?”
“Super Record,” I pointed out.
After about forty minutes I saw Tal listening to her earpiece, I guess it’s time to put a bit of effort in. Our escort pulled further ahead as Tali told us the programme, essentially a cat and mouse session, sprint from the back past the group, continue for twenty seconds while the rest chase you down. Sounds a bit complicated but it simulates the whole attack chase scenario you so often experience in races.
“Twenty seconds Gab,” Tal instructed as I prepared for my effort, Tony might be good against the clock but I guess not so good at this more reactive stuff.
“I know.”
“Yeah, i’ve seen your restraint before.”
Okay, I’ll admit to getting carried away in the heat of the moment sometimes, but you don’t win by being timid.
“Ready?”
“Yup.”
“Go!”
The bunch can’t chase until I actually get to the front, Tony didn’t even get a bike length ahead on his effort! I dropped a sprocket and stood on the pedals, the bike leaping forward as I hit Mach Bond. Twenty seconds is a remarkably long time when you are on full gas, I rapidly gained on the Police cruiser, getting to within a handfull of metres before he accelerated away.
I was still eyeballs out, on top of the twelve sprocket, my thighs burning, I glanced at my comp, bum how long have I been going, best keep it going a bit longer. The seconds clicked through ten more times before I hit the paddle to change down a couple of gears and sat up. I looked around to see how much road I had, huh, I must be like a hundred fifty metres ahead!
“Which bit of twenty don’t you get?” Tal asked when eventually I was reabsorbed.
“I didn’t see what the seconds were when I started,” I told her in my defense.
She rolled her optical gear, “John, you’re up next.”
Degenkolb dropped to the back, sprinters come in two sorts, compact like Cav or heavier like John. The big guys might have the advantage on a flatter parcours, the smaller the edge in hillier events or if there’s an uphill finish. John started his wind up and it was game on as he quickly cleared the front.
I don’t know which devil has gotten into me, I took off in pursuit and was latched onto his wheel even as he eased a little from the initial effort. He had to look back and nearly lost it when I grinned back at him from a metre away. Oops.
Our ride wasn’t intended as a big session, we were out for just over three hours, long enough to do a loop around London, the last few K taking us through the ‘burbs before chucking us onto a short bit of four lane back to the Lamplighter.
“Good session people,” Frank told us as we dismounted by the hotels entrance. “shower and change, then we’ll go across to the restaurant for lunch, forty five? Gaby and Tony, if you can bring your time trial stuff, you’ll be going straight off with Annika and Leon afterwards.”
No rest for the wicked I guess. We left our steeds in the care of Leon and Laurin, who, as team masseuse also checked we were okay, no aches and pains. I’m okay for now but I could do without these tight schedules, I mean, forty five minutes to shower and change, whats that about?
I did think about missing the shower stage, i’ll need one before this evening anyhow but a quick sniff at my jersey suggested otherwise. I did use the supplied shower cap though, no point wasting shampoo eh. It was a quick turn under the water, the hotel towels just about doing the drying job enough to dress in shorts and T, albeit with a fresh Bustenhalter – boys really are lucky they don’t have to wear them.
I’ve not worn my national champions skinsuit in anger yet so as i’d brought it I slung that and my new aero lid in my race bag with my best shoes and headed down to join the rest to go eat.
The restaurant, East Side Mario’s which, as the name hints, is a chain serving Italian, bit like Leonie’s back in England. The minivan was already in the car park when we got there after a five minute walk, looks like we really will be straight off after eating. Inside we had a couple of booths and as is usual, the adults took one whilst us plebs squeezed around the other.
Laurin had already organised the riders menu, not that i’m complaining, its free food that i’m not cooking. We were barely seated before bowls of salad arrived and no one needed a hint to get stuck in. The clearly put on Italian accents of the staff served to supply some amusement, i’m guessing our conversation in German was doing similar for other patrons.
The main course was Ravioli in a sort of Milanese sauce, bit bland, I had more Parmessan than usual to get a bit of flavour out of it. In its favour there was plenty of it, huge bowls in front of each of us supplemented by garlic bread, yup plenty.
“Gaby, Tony, you want to get changed here, not sure of the facilities at the course,” Annika suggested as we chatted after finishing.
“Sure,” Tony replied.
“Here you go,” Tal swung my bag over to me.
“Cheers,” I allowed grabbing it after clambering around the table.
I headed to the facilities where rather than a regular cubicle I shut myself in the baby changing area – well theres more room when you’re scrabbling with the lycra okay. You’ve seen a skinsuit right? Form fitting to say the least, there’s no way i’m walking back out into the restaurant in just the suit so I pulled my shorts and T shirt on over the top. Even so I felt quite self conscious when I returned to the others.
Maddy Bell © 15.10.2018
A few minutes later Leon was driving us back out into the countryside.
“How far is the course,” Tony enquired as we joined a bit of motorway signed intriguingly for Toronto and Niagra.
“About an hour,” Annika told us.
“Really? Thought we’d be closer,” I mentioned.
“It would be nice but the accomodation was much higher priced,” we were advised, “so, we won’t be the only ones testing today, there isn’t time to set up and ride the whole course, we’ll drive around and then spend some time on the more technical sections okay?”
“Sounds good to me,” Tony allowed.
“Gaby?”
“Um, sure, any chance of a short test, say ten K?”
“Leon?” Annika queried.
“Should have time,” he agreed.
“Good idea for the test,” Tony noted as we drove east.
“I’ve not done a proper trial since the Nationals,” I admitted.
“Me either,” he allowed, “you don’t have the team suit on?”
“Thought i’d give the National strip a ride out,” I advised lifting my T to show him, “its not had an airing yet.”
“The Weltmeister has priority of course.”
He was of course referring to the title the pair of us have been sharing since Roskilde last year, almost my last race before Gaby became a permanent fixture. If only I hadn’t skidded off i’m sure i’d have won cleanly instead of getting the same time to three points. There can’t be a repeat this year of course, he’s a lad and i’m, well not.
“So what do you think?” Annika asked.
“I’d like to go over that climb,” Tony suggested.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “maybe the approach to the finish?”
“It does look a bit technical that last bit,” boss lady noted.
“Just a suggestion,” Leon put in, “how about do the test over the last ten kilometres, kill two birds?”
I shrugged, “good for me.”
“Okay,” Tony added.
“Will they let us ride through the finish?”
“Maybe not to the line Gaby, we’ll get as close as we can eh?” Annika smirked.
We did spend a little time setting up, well more like making sure the bikes were rebuilt to the figures we both ride on fit wise. Then it was time to get ready for our impromptu effort, a no holds barred head to head event. We dropped Annika off in the finish area then Leon drove us back along the course to a suitable spot, there were quite a few others out on the road, some doing efforts, others not even on TT bikes just rolling around.
“Nice helmet Bond.”
I snugged up the chin strap, “its new.”
“Won’t help, i’ll still beat you,” Tony stated.
“Maybe.”
“Okay you two, who’s going first?” Leon asked.
“Ladies first.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, after you.”
Before he could argue Leon spoke again, “settled, five minutes warm up then we’ll start at two minutes same as tomorrow.”
I shrugged, “okey dokem glück Martin.”
“Glück,” my nemesis returned.
Our timing was gonna be a bit convoluted using Annika and Leon’s mobile phones to link start and finish, Leon would hold us and we’d start on Annika’s countdown from the other end. Yeah, not ideal but at least its just one time keeper, sufficient for our purposes.
I watched Tony settle for the start, Leon straddling his rear wheel to make sure he was vertical. I couldn’t hear the countdown, but Tony nodded his head slightly when it started so I started my comp as he got the go, now its a simple calculation for me. I slowly rolled up to our ‘start’ line as he disapearred up the road.
“Ready Gaby?” Leon queried.
“Yep, he should start in a lower gear,” I observed as I rolled into place.
“Agreed, he was straining a bit there, i’ll speak with Annika after. Up?”
“Anytime,” I told him.
“I’ll have to hold your saddle,” he warned.
“Okay.”
Just one hazzard of being, er smaller, at least he warned me before I felt his hands brush my shorts. Once he had me securely in his grip I clipped in and shuffled into position.
“One minute,” Annika’s voice tinnily advised.
I checked the helmet visor was locked in place before watching as my bike computer displayed each digit in the run up to my start.
“Five, four, three, two, one, go!”
If Tony was in too high a gear, maybe I was too low, my rear tyre skipping a little as I laid down the power from out of the saddle. Today its about ten K, call it six miles, for tomorrow’s twenty eight I can start slightly more conservatively. What’s not fair tomorrow is that the lads get to do ten kilometres more – talk about sexist!
The almost straight through cassette let me accelerate smoothly and from starting in one from bottom in just a couple of hundred metres I was in eighth and the comp was showing almost forty kph. I made an effort to calm my breathing, it always goes silly at the start, the heart rate monitor reading suggested I hit two hundred and five BPM, bit high to hold for more than a minute or two. The road was clearly newly surfaced and clean, my tyres pinged along nicely, a slight tailwind adding some free speed as I started the first of several rolling rises.
Time trialling is all about pacing but to be honest, ten kilometres is more of an all out sprint. I tried to keep a lid on things over the first couple of kilometres but when I spotted what looked like Tony off in the distance I decided to just go for it. When the speed climbed over fifty on a longer descent I wanged it into top and went for it, I recognised the road, the climb back out is pretty short.
Momentum helped of course, I lost a sprocket as I slowed towards the top, not that my effort reduced. Of course theres no way i’ll catch Martin for two minutes and i’d lost him, if it was him, from sight as quickly as i’d glimpsed him. I kept the hammer down, the clock on the bars ticked over fourteen minutes, twelve minutes race time, how much further?
Is that an eight or nine on the distance line? Must be eight, twelve’d be about right for eight K. Not too shabby, the HRM was bobbling around the two hundred mark which according to Dad is in my anaerobic level five – in short there’s a finite time you can go at this effort. The legs were starting to complain and the first edges of red started to encroach on my view of the road.
Come on Gab, you can do it! Then suddenly I was in the finish zone, the barriers lining the road, the scaffold already holding the timing for tomorrow and there, a few metres before the line, Annika almost bouncing. Is there anything more in the tank, dunno, only one way to find out, I stood up but there was no more, no more anything actually, I freewheeled past totally spent.
I felt more than saw hands grab me as I slowed to a halt amongst a lot of exciteable voices.
“Easy girl, deep breaths,” Leon told me – how did he get here in front of me? “can someone get her bike?”
I felt myself being lifted then set down on the ground before my helmet was awkwardly removed.
“Here,” a bottle was pushed between my lips.
I sucked at the liquid and gradually my breathing and senses came back under control.
“She okay? Should we call an ambulance?” someone asked in what I think was English.
I sort of waved a hand, “Nein, Gut.”
“She’ll be okay I think,” Annika mentioned in not great English.
Twenty minutes later we were heading back towards London in a strangely quiet car. Leon just kept shaking his head, Annika was giving me worried glances and Tony, well I couldn’t read Tony at all. I looked out of the glass and allowed myself a little smirk, oh I know I ended up completely blown but i’ve proved a point. I didn’t just go faster than Tony, I had in fact pulverised his time for the ten kilometres.
In fact he’d barely passed our timekeeper when I hove into view, only the turns in the approach to the finish had kept him from sight. His sixteen minutes twenty seconds wasn’t exactly shabby, my fifteen oh one was just ridiculous. Its been a long time coming, a full year, but i’ve made my point, I would have won last year if I hadn’t eaten gravel.
“How?” Tony muttered again, “i was on the limit all the way.”
“No one else knows,” I magnaminously mentioned.
“I know,” he replied in a very low tone, “a minute in ten K.”
“One nineteen to be exact,” I corrected, “look at it this way, we’re not in the same event tomorrow.”
“Some commiseration.”
“It was only ten kilometres, it wouldn’t be pro rata over race distance.”
“And that helps? You’re a girl, a girl beat me by a minute for ten kilometres.”
“What’s being a girl got to do with anything? Beryl Burton used beat the men all the time.”
“Who?”
Well I guess her fame never reached Germany, “a British woman who won everything she rode. It would’ve been less if you’d started in a lower gear, you must’ve lost at least ten seconds starting in that gear.”
“Urgh!” he threw his arms up in disgust.
“Gaby,” Annika started, “i think maybe it would be good to keep this afternoon to ourselves? At least for now?”
I thought for a moment, “i guess.”
“If anyone asks you both tested out on form.”
Tony snorted at that.
“You too Mr Martin, the fewer people who know the better.”
“As if i’m gonna tell everyone I was beaten by Bond.”
“Hmm,” Annika allowed.
“So how’d it go,” Tali enquired as we waited for the others in the bus.
Yep, due to our accomodation location we’ve got a good drive to the U18 opening reception in Brantford, not that far from where i’d been this afternoon.
“Okay,” I hedged, “everything worked.”
“Sounds like classic Bond avoidance to me.”
“Honest, we drove the course then had a bit of a ride along the last bit, right Tone?”
“Eh?” Herr Martin queried as he climbed up.
“This afternoon, bit of a ride?” I hinted.
“Oh yeah, reckon we got it sorted.”
“hmm,” my team mate allowed.
We were saved from further inquisition by the arrival of the rest of Team Deutschland.
“Oo, new dress?” I suggested as Izzy followed the lads up.
“Well I wasn’t gonna be shown up by you pair tonight,” she stated, “gis a hand Paul.”
“Gott, I hope there’s decent food, i’m starving,” I pronounced as we once more travelled eastwards.
“She always like this?” Iz enquired.
“Nah, sometimes its worse, i’ve seen her beat Josh at Berliner’s.”
“He’s useless,” I stated.
“Who’s Josh?”
“Her boyfriend,” I told Miss Beyer pointing at Tal.
“Ah, how many?”
“Seven I think,” Tal told her.
“They were only small ones,” I put in in my defence.
There was a bit of eye rolling and some chuckling from other passengers in the bus, they’re making fun of me!
Maddy Bell © 15.10.2018
These receptions really are a pain, they might not be compulsory but the local worthies, and in this case UCI big wigs like to press the flesh. As riders they really are a pain, several hours on your feet the night prior to the start of competition and often quite dubious catering arrangements don’t help. We were a bit late getting to the venue, not sure whether by design or fate but it did mean we missed Pat McQuaid, the current UCI president rattling on for fifteen minutes.
The downside of arriving late was of course that most of the venue saw our arrival, its a good job we were dressed decently – it would’ve been so embarrasing arriving in a spaghetti top and denim. I spotted a few familiar faces, that Sagan kid, the Swiss Pellini, Chris Toynbee over there with that Wogan lad, Myers the Australian girl in a rather showy frock. I guess there were as many looking our way thinking ‘that Bond girl’, ‘the Martin lad’, despite its size and location, Germany isn’t really a big cycle racing nation like its neighbours so its difficult to hide your top riders.
“Bond!” I looked around whilst covering my plate of buffet goodies.
“Desgrange, fancy meeting you here.”
“Couldn’t keep me away, see you found the food.”
“The only attraction tonight, so who else is here?”
“That little kid with the English, you know, the sprinter.”
“Cav,” I advised.
“Yeah him, not seen the others that usually ride with him.”
“They had a shake up, hence i’m now German.”
“Pah, you always were.”
What’s he mean by that?
“What’re you riding?” Michael enquired.
“Both,” I advised, “you?”
“Just the road thankfully, some De Clerk kid is doing the clock, no ones doubling up.”
“Lucky Belgium.”
“So you riding open or girls?”
“Girls,” I sighed, to be sensible its the right decision but I don’t have to like it, “more chance of a gong.”
“Says the girl who podiumed at Roubaix.”
“That was lucky,” I suggested.
“Lucky is winning the lottery, consistently getting on a podium needs rather more skill.”
“Hey Mikel, you made it!”
“Gaby, yep thanks to your papa, the others are here?”
“Just Tali,” I sighed.
“Such a pity, I think Jamie and Gethyn would do well here.”
“Yeah, not our decision though eh, that Vasquez kid here?”
“The Federation always send the champions, its like an extra prize, automatic selection, the same is for Germany?”
“Not exactly, its not automatic but it helps,” I grinned.
“Of course you are the German champion.”
“Guilty,” I smirked, “have a good race on Sunday yeah?”
“And you for tomorrow also.”
I wasn’t without coinversation for long throughout the evening, catching a few words with riders I sort of knew, being presented by ‘my’ federation to several worthies including The President and the Canadian Minister for Sport, a chap named Chong would you believe, not that he’s Asian at all. I hadn’t exactly been avoiding the BC lot, its more that we were in different circles, however it was inevitable we would meet.
“Mark.”
“Bond, you made it then.”
“We got a bit lost on the way, suppose you are staying nearby?” I probed.
“Just up the road, you?”
“London.”
“Get off! Really?”
“I know, its all like Oxford and stuff round there, well weird. You seen the course for Sunday yet.”
“We’re going tomorrow, you?”
“Just the time trial this afternoon.”
“Reckon you’ve got a fair chance in that.”
“What have you heard?” I enquired somewhat guardedly.
“Nothing, but you are like the testing queen.”
“There’s some good riders coming through.”
“Come on Gab, no one’s gonna even get close to the Bond girl.”
“Wish I had your confidence,” I told him, “what about you, you must fancy your chances?”
“If it comes to a gallop, your lad, Deck something? He’s a bit handy.”
“Degenkolb, he’s okay, get on his wheel and you’ll spook him though.”
“Are you supposed to be telling me that?”
I shrugged, “its hardly a state secret.”
“Well thanks anyway, pity Josh isn’t here, we coulda done with him.”
“He was available,” I pointedly replied.
“I know, this political stuff really sucks, the rest of the team aren’t exactly brilliant, Wogan’s okay I guess but against this lot we need experience.”
“Yeah well, what’s done is done.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, “think someones trying to get your attention, blonde woman?”
“Annika,” I told him spotting my waving boss, “best go, good luck Sunday.”
“And you.”
“Frank wants us to head back,” Annika advised when I reached her.
“’kay, best use the facilities then.”
“Meet us in the foyer, i’ll find the others.”
“Okay.”
I headed towards the toilets, according to my watch its after ten, so much for a good nights sleep before the race, maybe I can sleep in a bit? Unusually there wasn’t a queue for the ladies, not that they were empty, but I was able to get a cubicle without waiting. I sat and tried to relax, outside voices conversed in several languages, well it is an international event I guess.
I must’ve dozed off, well I woke with a start anyway. I finished up, flushed and exited to wash up.
“Well look who it isn’t,” a beanpole of a girl announced in passable German spotting me.
“Backstedt,” I allowed.
“I wondered if you would be here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Marianne Backstedt is the current girls time trial champion after winning on her home turf last year. I don’t think i’ve actually raced against her but of course I read the results, I guess she does too. Apart from the fact that she must be like a metre eighty tall, i’ve never exactly warmed to her.
“There have been rumours,” she hinted.
“Don’t believe all you hear,” I told her pulling a couple of towels from the dispenser to dry my hands.
“This race is mine Bond,” she almost spat.
“If you say so.”
“I do, no little German Dværge is going to stand in my way.”
“Whatever.”
“You mock me.”
“Do I?”
“Hmmph!”
“Are we done, I need to get some beauty sleep.”
“That I can agree on Dværge!”
I binned the paper towels and made good my escape, what is her problem?
“There you are,” Izzy noted, “where’ve you been?”
“’talking’ to that Backstedt girl.”
“She’s a nasty bit of work.” Tal opined.
“You know her?”
“Yeah, she comes down to Niedersachsen to race sometimes, thinks she’s Gott’s gift to cycling.”
“I think she was trying to warn me off tomorrow,” I told them.
“What a mistake to make.”
“You sound like Josh girl.”
Tal grinned, “if you say so.”
“You guys ready?”Laurin asked joining us.
“As we’ll ever be,” I suggested.
Izzy was full of who she’d met and seen at the reception, well it was her first time so I guess she’s allowed. That meant that I didn’t get a sleep on the bus, I was stifling yawns by the time we got back to the Lamplighter – not that I was the only one. Yesterdays travel and today’s travails a la biciclette were catching up to us all, no one was keen to delay the journey to their beds.
Once in Chez Bond I stripped myself of finery and climbed into bed and actually had the light off before I remembered Dad. Bum, I promised him i’d ring today, light back on, work out how to get an international line on the hotel phones, dial and wait.
“Bond.”
“Dad, its Gaby.”
“Heya kiddo, everything okay?”
“Yeah, just touching base, er thanks for the upgrades, you never said anything.”
“Glad it meets with your approval, I thought i’d surprise you both.”
“Well thanks anyway.”
“Frank said you had a look at tomorrows course earlier.”
“You already spoke with him?”
“He rang me earlier.”
“Oh.”
“Were you going to mention collapsing to me?”
“Erm.”
“Frank was quite worried.”
“What did you tell him, he’s not gonna pull me is he?”
“The truth and no he’s not, I have suggested that you don’t use that visor tomorrow if its at all warm, i’m pretty sure it didn’t help matters.”
“It did get kind of sweaty,” I agreed.
“And make sure you keep hydrated beforehand, you got your start time yet?”
“Just turned one I think, number seventy three.”
“Not too much hanging about afterwards at least.”
“Just hours before,” I groaned.
“Go for a slow ride if you can, clear your head, get in the zone.”
“Think I was too much in it today,” I admitted.
“Don’t dwell on it kiddo, you know how to ride it, you’ll do what you can.”
“I guess.”
“Just do your best Gab, now get off this phone and get some sleep, everyone here will be rooting for you.”
“Thanks Dad.”
“G’night kiddo.”
“Nite Dad.”
So of course I couldn’t get to sleep. My grey matter wouldn’t even settle on a single subject for thought jumping instead from that daft race against Tony to the face off with Backstedt, back to how i’d tackle tomorrows effort and on and on. I watched the clock tick over from eleven fifty nine to all the zeros before my eyes finally succumbed to my exhaustion and I descended into a dreamless sleep.
Maddy Bell © 15.10.2018
Race day. I looked out of the window, mist shrouded the view but through chinks in the greyness a perfect azure sky peered down from above. Well its early yet and the course is an hour away so no cause for alarm yet.
Having woken at my usual wake up hour I had plenty of time so after morning ablutions I set about gathering my gear for todays effort. Best race shoes – check, mitts – check, helmet – check, skinsuit, erm, which one? I pulled the first one out of its bag and held it up. The tiny garment was distorted by the shammy but even so it looked a bit odd, too much material, almost like a double layer across the lower back, like it was some sort of miscut sewn on.
Best check the other one I guess, not sure what I do if that's faulty too. However the second garment looked to be okay, to be on the safe side I set about pulling it on. If you’ve ever worn a leotard or even a one piece swimming costume you’ll know they can be a bit tricky, add legs and arms and a higher neck and it becomes more of a contortionist affair. Add in the cut and the required close fit and suddenly it becomes a really ‘interesting’ job.
It took me a few minutes to get the race suit comfortable, the thick pad felt a bit like wearing a nappy but it will be protecting my ‘bits’ and the ‘girls’ almost don’t need a BH being compressed so much. Hmm, best not go ‘au naturel’, bit too revealling, no a bra is essential for decency, everything else looks good though. Getting out was easier than in and once done I quickly had everything packed and ready to go racing.
A quick dress and I was down to the breakfast room, not first but not last either.
“Ready?” Annika enquired.
“As i’ll ever be, all packed and raring to go.”
“Good, we’ll leave as soon as you’ve eaten.”
“’kay,” I agreed, “oh yeah, the skinsuits, one of them must be faulty, its got some sort of double bit on the back?”
“Pockets,” she advised.
“Pockets? Why would you put pockets on a skinsuit?”
“For the road race, you need pockets for that yes?”
“Er yeah but I usually wear bibs and a jersey.”
“We thought we’d give you the option, wear which you are comfortable with, its UCI compliant so the choice is yours.”
“Er okay.”
“I’ll leave you to eat then.”
Whilst the breakfast bar offered everything from a warm buffet to cereal, I couldn’t face more than a bowl of joghurt and a single scrambled egg sandwich washed down with juice and coffee. I was on my second cup of the strong brew when Tali sat down opposite, dressed in her riding gear. (The others are going for a training ride before bussing out to do the spectator bit.)
“That all you’re having?”
“Yeah.”
“Not nervous are you?”
“A bit,” I admitted, “Dad’s usually doing all the flapping around, keeps me grounded like.”
“I guess,” she allowed.
“How good are you with braids?”
“Okay I guess.”
“You couldn’t do mine could you, I tried three times upstairs.”
“I guess so, I thought you were good at hair origami?”
“I wish,” I sighed, “Mand usually does it for me.”
“All ready?” Frank asked when I joined the time trial team outside.
“She’s a girl, they are never ready,” Tony opined.
“Where’s your other sock Martin?”
The idiot fell for it, even Frank had to stifle a chortle as he looked at his feet.
“Why you….”
“Kinder!” Laurin interjected, “we should go, Frank?”
“Indeed, I should be there before your start Gaby, in case i’m not good luck both of you, do your best out there.”
“Okay folks, in the auto,” Annika suggested as Leon arrived with the people carrier.
Compared to yesterday, the headquarters of todays events was awash with officialdom, security and bikes. Both events are based on a loop around Brantford, the lads extra ten kilometres made up with an extra loop just after the start. Yup, twenty eight kilometres, less than an hour’s effort for the top girls, I do of course include myself in that.
Being first up, Laurin and Anneka escorted me through the sign in process and through to the changing facilities. The organisers have us in some sort of college sports facility so whilst its communal changing there are decent showers and each team has access to a ‘prep’ area in the big sports hall. Which is where I found my support team once i’d wormed myself into the skinsuit again.
“Okay?”
“Nervous.”
“That’s good,” Anneka suggested, “many races are lost by over confidence.”
“Yeah,” I agreed.
“Hop on the table then girl, lets get these legs ready eh,” Laurin suggested.
Where does the time go? By the time we returned to the great outdoors the first girls had already started and the parking lot was a hive of industry, mechanics er mechanicing, riders warming up on turbo’s or rollers, well the normal sort of pre race stuff you can see at races around the globe. To be honest, whilst i’ve ridden a few internationals, with some success, I don’t really know too many of my fellow competitors especially in this most specialised road discipline.
I could recognise jerseys though, Dutch orange, the green and yellow Aussies, the USA is pretty easy to spot of course. I did spot a couple of Team GB people but I didn’t recognise them and in any case they pretty much abandoned me - and Mum for that matter. No, my loyalties lie elsewhere now, a place where I live, work, study and ride, Japan – just kidding, Germany of course.
I sat myself in the van and admired my bike, Dad’s really rolled things out for me. Everything looked pristine, the superlight Corsa tubs on the carbon aero wheels, the cables all internal for aero, just the shortest length of bar tape on the cow horns, no bottle cage, close ratio gears, the latest aero pedals. It looks like a weapon, a serious speed weapon, the cutting edge of time trialling under the current rules.
“You okay on the Rollentrainer Gaby?” Leon asked.
“Er sure, if someone can hold me to get started?”
“Get your shoes on then.” he suggested.
We did have an Ezyup courtesy of the organisers and I was soon spinning along in its shade, the early mist now replaced by hazy sunshine. Time trial bikes and rollers aren’t exactly a great combination, the bars are too low to be comfortable and stable but as long as you are smooth going hands free works well.
Frank came into view and signalled five minutes, already? I took the bars and started warming down, Laurin wrapped a towel around my shoulders and Leon grabbed my bike, lifting me and bike off in one go. Now that was weird!
“Everything okay Gaby?” Frank asked.
Bit different to the do this, do that of BC, these guys are actually asking me if i’m ready, not telling me.
“I guess,” I allowed climbing off of my steed and swapping bike shoes for my Birkenstocks™.
“Okay,” Frank agreed, “lets do it then."
A few minutes later Frank and I were in the queue of competitors waiting for my turn to ascend into the launch tent. In an attempt at fairness, officially the event isn’t seeded, start positions are allocated by random selection. However the race is divided into two based on qualifying times over the distance, the fastest riders start at two minute intervals, the rest at one minute, at number seventy one i’m actually the first of group two, there are fifteen more girls starting after me over thirty minutes.
I adjusted my helmet again, fiddled with my glasses, yes i’ve followed Dad’s advice to remove the integrated visor to improve heat dissipation then all too soon Frank was lifting my bike up the steps and I clambered up after.
I used the chair at the top to swap footwear, Frank taking my sandals in exchange for my Pinarello. How many times have I done this, a few to be sure but still my heart was racing as I moved into the phalanx of officials controlling the start. Number seventy departed and I rolled into place, two minutes, well less than that to go.
“Thirty,” the blazer wearing starter intoned.
Calm down Gab, deep breaths, you can do this. I closed my eyes and relaxed, easing a crick from my neck as fifteen was called. Deep breath, grip the bars, concentrate.
“Ten,” then he did that thing counting down the last five with his hand, “five, four, three, two, one, go.”
I hit the go juice and launched myself down the ramp and into the narrow start pen, only vaguely aware of the cheering watchers and PA system. The first corner was too soon to have even got onto the tri bars but once through I went straight into aero and started to wind things up. Yesterday we practiced the last ten K with its twists and climb, before that i’ve got eighteen kilometres of at most lightly rolling straight roads, bring it on!
I was soon scudding along at over forty kph, pretty sure I need more to win but there’s a way to go yet. A quick glance at the comp suggested I was riding at about ninety five percent, even though it felt like a hundred and twenty. Relax girl, you can do this.
Somehow I slowed my breathing and immediately felt more relaxed, the comp was ticking away the metres, five kilometres, is that all? Well that does leave me twenty three to do my biz, I concentrated on my pedalling action, pedalling round instead of the alternate stabs it felt like I was using. A glance up the road provided the final element, she might have started two minutes ahead of me but the sight of her provided the final element, the carrot!
Finally I was in the zone, me, the bike, the road, in complete harmony. My tyres hummed along the Canadian blacktop, only my whirring legs moving, girl and machine in perfect harmony. I zipped through the twenty to go arch, twelve minutes ticked over, well it’s close to the schedule i’d discussed with Anneka yesterday but a few seconds behind – time to step things up a bit.
The distance to my carrot rapidly closed, with a full road closure I was able to drift wide around her and her service bike, staying there after the pass to give her no chance of drafting. There was a slight rise, a motorway intersection, the resulting ramp down provided just enough help for my speed to touch fifty k’s for a bit before dropping to a more sustainable forty five. Like yesterday the wind was being kind, I only realised i’d been riding into it when the course turned and I felt it catching the rear disc.
We’d talked about this, to use a disc or not, the advantages can easily be nullified if the wind is ‘wrong’ but not today. I dropped a sprocket to keep my cadence up, pushing a higher gear has its place but not at this point in this event. Another rider, well I think the dot in the distance is a rider, provided a new target to chase after.
It was barely perceptible but the road gradually turned, the wind moving from front shoulder to side to rear shoulder and I was soon spinning the thirteen sprocket to great effect. Yesterday I took a minute out of Tony, today its three minutes out of number sixty eight rather than the sixty nine I was expecting. Not only that I recognised the jersey, the blue and red BC strip, one of two riders they’re fielding today.
That was more than enough encouragement for me to complete the coup des gras, I passed closer this time, making a specific effort to make the move look effortless. I don’t mean to be mean but Manda should’ve had one of those two slots, this one’s for Miss de Vreen. She was obviously giving her all, she wasn’t going that badly but world class time triallist she’s not!
A harder turn put the wind almost directly behind and then I was through the ten to go inflatable and I recognised the road from yesterday afternoon. Another dot ahead provided inspiration and I was soon spinning the twelve to great, fifty kph, effect. Then she got larger in my view very quickly, the mechanic was just replacing her front wheel as I zipped past, tyres singing loudly on this stretch of fairly pristine tarmac.
Yesterday I hit the nitro a bit early, almost overcooking things early, but the wind is a bit stronger today and it is all or nothing right? The ‘big’ climb is hardly Everest, barely twenty metres over something like a kilometre just after km twenty two. Being forewarned I adapted my effort to keep a good cadence whilst maintaining a good speed over the summit.
There’s not really a payback, more of a false flat if anything and at this point yesterday I was already weaving a bit, not today. I kept the gear down, the HR steady at two oh eight, the clock was already past twenty eight minutes, well its now or never.
And there ahead, the one kilometre kite and the series of bends around the college campus to the line. Come on Gabs, last bit, all of it! I pushed out those extra few grams of power, I had a line in my head and went into the first bend without more than the tiniest bit of deviation.
I gritted my teeth and pushed ever harder, the red, then the black quickly started to cloud my peripheral vision. It was a no brainer though, the idea of easing off never even crossed my mind and then I could see the finish gantry. The big digital display looked like thirty nine something, no point fretting, last effort.
Its all too easy to fail at the last hurdle, sit up before the line, think back to Roskilde, even one one hundreth of a second can be crucial. I was aimed at the line so the fact I closed my eyes as I threw in my last grains of effort only opening them as a lot of shouting got my attention didn’t matter. The brakes went on, the back tyre locked and as I skidded to a halt in front of Frank there was an explosion.
Maddy Bell © 19.10.2018
I straightened my hair out a bit, did up my skinsuit and waited for the call, i’ll be first up for third.
I couldn’t hear what the MC was saying very well, scratch that, his accented English was confusing my slightly addled grey matter, they’ll give me a shove when its time to go through right? However it was the Australian who got the first call, what’re they doing, going back to front. I could hear cheering then the MC started up again, ‘blah, blah, blah, the Netherlands, Lowra Steele!’
Guess she got second. She looked at me daggers again before going through to the stage. Once again there was cheering and a short delay, I guess the gong giving, then more cheering before the PA broke into life again, well it has to be me this time, flippin’ daft mixing it up like this. I was really listening, just waiting for the official to motion me through the curtain, I just caught ‘thirty four minutes, seventeen seconds, representing the Federal Republic of Germany, Gabrielle Bond!”
The cheering was pretty enthusiastic and I was somewhat confused when I realised that Shazza and the Dutch girl were stood on the lower steps of the podium, huh?
“You coming up or what Bond?” my new ‘friend’ demanded.
“Erm.”
“Here,” and with that I was hoisted to the lowest step then pushed up to the highest.
“I won?”
“Huh!” Steele offered.
“I won!” I yelled out, a huge grin on my face, my arms waving in the air.
The next few minutes were a confusion of emotions, I got my gong, my gold gong from the local worthy, the McQuaid chap did the stripy shirt bit then we stood for the flag raising as the National Anthem tinnily echoed around the stage. Of course we then had to do the photo stuff, you know, the smiling podium, the cheesy waving of medals. Only then were we ushered off and towards doping control, for once I was able to do the deed straight off, well I had been sipping from bidons for best bit of an hour!
When I emerged the rest of the team were waiting for me, well except for Tony, he’s pulled a late start and I guess is currently warming up.
“Knew you could do it,” Tal suggested.
“Wish I did, I thought I was third,” I noted with a look at Frank.
“I said at least third,” Frank stated, “i need to go and see Tony off, get yourself changed and stuff Gaby, the legs okay now?”
“Tired.”
“I’ll send Laurin over, I promised your dad that you’d get the best attention after all.”
I was still on the slab when Tony finished, it wasn’t to be a German double though, not today, some American, Hin something took the jersey, our boy only managed fifth this time around. Not that that’s bad of course, quite respectable and he was closer to gold than Steele was to me earlier. Oh yeah, I eventually got see the splits, the Dutch girl was fifty four seconds down, the Australian a further two, I really did smash it, no wonder Steele was giving me the look!
“What’re we eating tonight?” I enquired as we headed back to London.
Yeah I was hungry, race days can be a bitch for getting the calories in and other than a sort of muesli bar i’ve not eaten since breakfast.
“Your choice I think,” Annika suggested.
“Bet I know what she’ll go for,” Tali told to the rest of the bus.
“Steak I hope,” Degenbold opined.
“You won’t get schnitzel here,” Paul put in.
“So what’s it gonna be then Tal?” Izzy asked.
“Pizza.”
“Pizza?” John queried.
“Yup,” Tali confirmed, “double pepperoni right Gab?”
“Maybe olives too,” I grinned.
“I’m sure even the Canadians can manage pizza,” Laurin chuckled.
Where’s Tony? In the people carrier with Frank following along behind us, he seems to have taken defeat quite badly so the boss suggested some alone time, I hope for the other guys sake he snaps out of it before Sunday.
“Good job that tub didn’t go before the finish,” I mentioned.
“It was your skid that burst it,” Leon advised from up front.
“Really?”
“Two hundred gram tubs aren’t designed for heavy braking, you went straight through it, i’m sure your papa will forgive you though.”
Bum, two hundred grams, that sounds expensive.
Back at the Lamplighter Frank was appraised of the celebratory meal choice, it was still fairly early so I had time to place a call to Germany.
“Well done kiddo!” Mum enthused when I got through, “we were watching on Eurosport™, you’re catching me up.”
“Maybe,” I allowed.
“Hang on, your Dad’s here.”
“Hi kiddo or should I say your majesty?”
“Its a rainbow jersey not a crown,” I pointed out.
“Well you’re always our princess.”
“Da-ad!” I complained.
“The bike was okay I take it?”
“Erm.”
“Something up with it?”
“Er no not really, look I wrecked the back tyre, i’msorryi didn’tmeantoibrakedhardatthefinishanditexploded, i’llpayforithonestDadsorry.”
“Whoa, steady up kiddo, you burst the tub, how may I ask or is that a stupid question?”
“Well, you know you said I should keep at full effort till i’ve crossed the line, well I did but then I had to brake hard or crash and the wheel locked and...”
“And you went straight through the tyre,” he finished for me.
“Er yeah,” I admitted, “it was an accident.”
“It took you to the finish yes?”
“Uh huh.”
“Then it doesn’t matter kiddo, it did its job, to be honest it was a bit of a gamble putting those tyres on for you, they’re not really designed for the road.”
“They’re not?”
“Nope, they’re track tyres, I thought with you weighing about the same as a sparrow fart and with the roads newly surfaced it was worth the chance.”
“But they must cost a fortune.”
“A bit but they worked didn’t they? You won.”
“But...”
“Gab love, the cost isn’t the important thing, maybe pulling a skid wasn’t the greatest bit of riding but at the end of the day you now have the rainbow jersey, all to yourself, I don’t think you’ll be wanting for seventy euro tubulars any time soon.”
“Seventy euros!”
“Did I say seventy?”
“Da-ad.”
“So you all off to celebrate?” he asked deftly changing the subject.
“Er yeah, about,” I checked my watch, “five minutes ago.”
“Let me guess, pizza?”
“Am I really that predictable?”
“Yes.”
“Hmmph!” I er hmmphed.
“Well enjoy yourself kiddo but don’t forget about Sunday.”
“As if I could, not that I rate our chances, especially after today no ones going to let me do anything.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow eh, now go and eat your pizza, Weltmeisterin.”
“Yes Dad, say hi to Mand for me.”
“I will, now go.”
“How much?” Iz queried as I recounted my conversation as we drove to the Pizzeria that the desk clerk had booked us into, apparently the best in London.
“Straight up, seventy euros.”
“For one tyre,” Paul confirmed.
“Yup.”
“Glad i’m not paying,” Degenkolb noted.
“Maybe you should get some Tony,” Tal suggested.
“Tal!” I sanctioned, “not nice.”
“was only saying.”
“It’s alright Bond, i’m too heavy for them, i’ve tried,” Herr Martin admitted, “i just wasn’t good enough on the day."
“It was only twenty seconds,” I pointed out.
“May as well be twenty minutes,” he sighed, “how far is this restaurant, think i’m ready for pizza now,” he concluded.
Maddy Bell © 19.10.2018
The Trattoria Antonio was a twenty minute drive – pretty much on the other side of London to our hotel, in a smart looking suburb. Surprisingly when we arrived it wasn’t too busy and we were quickly installed around a large round table. Unlike the chain place near the Lamplighter the waiting staff here didn’t have to fake the accents!
That was quite useful, turns out Frank speaks pretty good Italian and with minimal fuss our celebratory dinner was ordered. Rather than everyone debating over single examples Frank ordered a sort of smorgasbord of options, something for everyone including double pepperoni for yours truly. There was a salad buffet and like a flock of locust we descended on that even before the drinks arrived.
I say salad, there was a selection of pasta on offer too, the whole comparable to anything we had in Italy last year. I did have two slices of ‘my’ pizza but with four others on offer, Quattro Staggione, Pollo, Americano and good old Hawaiian, I enjoyed a more diverse meal. Coffee and Tiramasu followed, not a bad meal all done and said, Frank tapped his glass to get our attention.
“So thank you Gaby for your choice, I think we’ve all enjoyed this evening, i’m sure everyone will join me in once again congratulating you on the title and of course Tony who came so close to the podium.”
There was a bit of table slapping and jeering, typical German reaction to such an invitation.
The noise reduced and the Boss went on, “but we aren’t done in Canada yet. There are two more chances for the Rainbows, you’ll all be involved and all have that chance. So tomorrow its back to business, we’ll be going up to have a look at the Sunday’s circuit, we’ll be leaving at eight thirty so early breakfast yeah? Training kit on please but make sure you have clothes to change into after. Questions?”
I couldn’t think of anything and apparently neither could any of my team mates.
“Okay then, back to the hotel, I suggest an early night,” Frank concluded.
Back at the Lamplighter everyone said their goodnights and disappeared into their rooms however i’d not got my shoes off before there was a tap at my door.
“Hello?” I asked through the door.
“Its me, Tal.”
I opened the door to find not just Tali but Isolde as well.
“Well let us in then,” my teammie demanded.
I stood back, “whatever.”
“Ooh can I?” Izzy asked homing in on my latest gong hanging on the TV, “i didn’t get a look earlier.”
“Sure, so whats this about, we’re supposed to be getting an early night.”
“Gott Bond, sometimes you are so square,” Tal stated, “look what Tante Tali has.”
She waved a bottle, a wine bottle, in front of me.
“Where’d you get that?”
“It sort of slipped into my bag at the restaurant,” she advised.
“Its quite heavy isn’t it?” Iz mentioned.
“Er yeah,” I agreed before turning back to Tali, “you nicked it?”
“I like to think of it as liberation for a good cause.”
“Tal!”
“Well if you don’t want any i’m sure me and Iz can cope on our own.”
“Glasses? Corkscrew?”
“Its a screw top,” Izzy advised.
“Ta da!” Schmidt pronounced flourishing glassware clearly purloined from the breakfast room downstairs.
“Go on then,” I sighed.
Three girls, one bottle of red – well it was only a couple of glasses each but even though i’ve got better with alcohol my head was still throbbing when my alarm roused me the following morning. I groggily scanned the unfamiliar room, a little bit disorientated but then I spotted the rainbow striped jersey on the back of the chair, the medal hanging from the TV, the obligatory bouquet stood in the tooth glass and propped against the desk light. Canada, I won! The name’s Bond, Gaby Bond, licensed to win!
I lay staring at the gong a bit longer but a need for the facilities won out over staying under the covers and I went straight on into the shower. Ten minutes later and I was feeling a bit more human, the effects of last nights alcohol much diminished. I sorted out my kit for the day, dressed in the training gear and headed down to upload a few extra calories to fuel todays ride.
“Thought you’d be wearing the new jersey,” Innerthausen opined when I joined him at the ‘riders’ table.
“Did think about it but I don’t want to rub it in.”
“Rub it in? Oh with Tony.”
“Yeah, he was pretty down last night.”
“He’s a moody sod at the best of times.”
“Talk of the devil, morning Tone.”
“Hmm,” he allowed before grabbing a coffee cup and heading off for some caffeine.
“Like I said,” Paul told me with a shrug.
I guess i’ve got some sympathy for him, the time trial is his speciality, his one shot at a world title, he’s unlikely to be a contender in tomorrows race. Although I don’t rate my chances beyond top ten in my Sunday outing, I am in with a shout, my abilities being more all round. In many respects my win yesterday was just a sideshow, the big prize is the first across the line, winner takes all road race tomorrow.
Everyone, well maybe not Tony, seemed in fairly high spirits as we drove across the long, straight roads of southern Ontario countryside, the low hills of our destination rising slowly ahead of us. We didn’t have the mist this morning, instead its clear below a ceiling of white clouds, maybe it’ll be a little cooler for riding? We’d been driving for over an hour before Frank and Anneka turned to address us mere riders.
“Okay everyone,” Frank started, “the satnav reckons we’ll be in Stratford in a few minutes. This morning we’ll do a group ride around the circuit, i’m sure we won’t be the only ones on the road, i’m told the Polizei will be controlling junctions so please watch for instruction from them. We will do a lap then have a short lunch break then this afternoon we will split into the respective teams, Anneka will take the ladies, you boys get to enjoy my company.”
“So what will we do this afternoon?” Degenkolb queried.
“Good question John,” Anneka replied, “clearly with only three in each of our teams it will not be possible to dominate the races so we’ll discuss what we can do and what may be possible. Let’s be honest here, there are stronger teams, the Dutch and Italians for example, so our best chances will be from more subtle tactics. Once you’ve ridden the course we’ll have a better feel for those possibilities.”
Nothing like putting things bluntly is there? Its true, Germany isn’t a big hitter on the road, the top countries have five rider squads, even BC on the back of last years results and annoyingly the successes of me, Mand and the others, of which only Cav will actually be riding tomorrow. Yeah, that rankles big time.
“Everything okay Gaby?” Laurin queried as I sat on the bus step to change my footwear.
“Think so.”
“No after effects from yesterday?”
“Bit of a sore head this morning,” oops, didn’t mean to say that.
“Sore head? No, I don’t want to know, the legs are okay though, no overnight cramp?”
“Nope,” I assured her.
“Well don’t hold back if there’s anything amiss at all.”
“I won’t,” I agreed.
“Have a good ride then, i’ll catch you later.”
Izzy slid in beside me as our masseuse departed.
“What was that about?”
“Just checking whether I had cramp last night.”
“You aren’t on birth control?”
“Sorry?”
“To stop, you know, the monthly and all that stuff?”
The ball dropped, “not those sort of cramps, I had leg cramps on Thursday afternoon, after the training session.”
“Ouch, i’ve had that a couple of times, not nice.”
“Tell me about it, its not like there’s a magic bullet to sort it out.”
“Rudi, he’s my club coach says its low blood salt.”
I shrugged, “who knows, Dad reckons its something to do with getting dehydrated.”
“Maybe they’re both right,” Iz suggested.
“You two ready?” Annika called over.
When you look at a road map of Ontario, well more specifically southern Ontario, the impression you get is of a series of grids dropped haphazardly across the land. Look a bit closer and you’ll see that each grid relates to what I guess you might call a county division, each one having the grid in its own alignment! There are some bendy roads but most of the major routes are pretty straight regardless of what’s in the way.
Stratford, in Perth division, is a reasonable size place, our races are based on a fifty kilometre circuit in the rolling countryside to the west of the town. The boys do two laps for their 110km, the girls one full circuit with a shorter loop part way round for our 85km’s, the extra bit being into and out of Stratford. Its not all straights but its hardly twisty.
From the parking at the local high school the RCMP officers directed us out towards the circuit, we’d just about settled into a long rotation when we joined the circuit proper. Laurin had brought the minivan up loaded with the bikes so all the adults were now following us in that along the first long straight, the only thing breaking the monotony the Avon River crossing and shortly beyond that the first proper road junction.
The Mounties had the road effectively closed so there was nothing to cause issue when our team van drew alongside and Frank stuck his head out of the window.
“That’s where you girls rejoin the main circuit on your short loop.”
“Is it all like this?” Iz asked.
“Not very exciting I agree but its the same for everyone,” Frank supplied.
Jolly japes.
There was a bend just before we reached St Marys, two more before the Fullerton turn which put us onto an almost ten K straight. It was a bit twistier around Fullerton itself, our short circuit turns off there but we traced the North Thames (did those old settlers have no imagination?) to Mitchell. A couple more kilometres got us to Bornholm where we turned for little Germany.
Yeah, the sign said Rostock but before we got there we made a right for Wartburg. Through the town, over another river, a left turn to Sebringville, right and we were back to where we joined the circuit. It didn’t take long to get back to the parking and the bus, its gonna be a difficult circuit to get away on, there’s nowhere to hide if you do get away.
The organisers had a marquee thing where we could get food, think there was one at the time trial yesterday but I had other things on my mind both before and after my ride. Today though, armed with our competitors I.d.’s, we all made our way to the facility and joined the milling mass of hungry teens. The fare was mostly of the pasta variety although chips and even burgers could be had – tempting but maybe not the best choice!
“Bond!”
That voice, I turned round and there he was, Mark Cavendish, all grin and annoying good looks.
“Mark.”
He quickly joined me in the queue, “wondered if you’d be here.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“No reason, can I get the Penne please.”
“Make that two,” I requested of the woman dishing the food onto paper plates.
“Congratulations by the way, clearly last year wasn’t a fluke.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“Yeah, Toynbee really thought Sarah was in with a shot.”
We shuffled along to the drinks cabinet.
“What do you want?” Cav asked.
“Er Sprite™ please, Sarah?”
He reached in and got my beverage, “here, yeah Sarah Storing.”
“Never heard of her.”
“One of Uncle Dave’s Olympic hopes, been riding the track.”
“Where’d she come then?” I hadn’t exactly studied the results from yesterday.
“Thirty something?”
“Should’ve had Mands, I reckon she’d at least have got top ten.”
“New broom,” he smirked.
You can’t be angry with Cav for very long, oh he can be infuriating, self centred and moody as hell but at the same time he’s a likeable rogue.
“So you been round?” I asked as we sat at one of the long tables to eat.
“We’re going round this afternoon, you?”
“This morning.”
“Any good?”
“For who? No proper climbs and hardly any bends, it’ll be difficult to get away.”
“Ripe for a big gallop then,” he grinned.
“Looks that way,” I allowed.
A big gallop, well if it is, it is but i’d rather narrow the odds in my favour a bit, I need to sound out the others but i’ve got the bare bones of an idea – not that i’m gonna tell Cav of course.
Maddy Bell © 22.10.2018
“Where’ve you been?” Tal quizzed when she caught up with me outside of the toilets.
“Eating?”
“Annika was looking for you.”
“I was only in the tent, talking with Cav.”
“The English?”
“Hope there’s not more than one,” I opined as we headed back to team HQ.
“Ah Gaby,” Annika greeted me.
“She was eating,” my warder advised.
“Well you’re here now, Frank’s already gone with the lads so its just us girls.”
“Where’s Izzy?”
“Here!” a hand shot up inside the bus.
“Right then, shall we get started?” our leader suggested.
“Thoughts on the circuit?”
We’d made ourselves comfortable in the mini bus, even if anyone overhears us I doubt they’ll understand German.
“Reminds me a bit of that race up around Kiel eh Gabs?” Tali proposed.
Kiel? Oh I remember, Hamburg, yeah I guess it does have its similarities, not much in the way of hills, fairly open and some longish straights.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “a bit, we struggled to control that with six of us, we’d have no chance with three. It’ll be nigh on impossible to make a break stick with all those straights.”
“So any suggestions,” Annika prompted.
“We could just send Gaby up the road so she can time trial round,” Izzy suggested.
“Gaby?”
“Erm, I had sort of thought something similar,” I admitted.
“But how do we get Gab out of the pack? Won’t the rest be looking out for her,” Iz asked.
“We’ve done it with worse odds eh Gab?” Tal chuckled.
“Yeah, I won’t be wearing a target tomorrow at least.”
“Target?” Annika asked.
“Series jersey, national champ jersey, wear one of those and everyone jumps on any move you make.”
“Never thought of that,” Izzy admitted.
We talked for a while, went through a few theoretical scenarios then went to check out the finish area, ironically the approach involves a couple of sharp turns and a long curve to within fifty metres of the line. By the time we’d done the lads were back so while riders got changed, bikes were stowed and we started our journey back down the Seven towards London.
Back at the Lamplighter, Laurin set up shop, we’d all get a leg rub before dinner – no junk food on today’s menu of course, dinner was in the hotel restaurant. Far from junk, we ate well but it has to be said rather boringly, grilled chicken, rice, green beans, peas – not a bad meal, just unexciting.
“Is everyone okay for tomorrow?” Frank asked as we sipped at our coffee.
“I wouldn’t say okay exactly,” I offered, “ready maybe.”
“Everyone else?”
“We’ll have a go,” Innerthausen told us.
“We can’t expect more,” Annika stated.
“That’s all we ask ladies and gentlemen, we know we are at a numerical disadvantage, that can’t be helped. No, all we ask is that you do your best with what you have, I know the girls have some hope but if it doesn’t happen its not the end of the world.”
He paused, we all sort of looked at each other, slightly embarrassed I guess.
“Onto practicalities, similar programme to today, early breakfast, we leave at eight thirty, Laurin will have a snack for the girls and lunch for the lads at Stratford. The forecast is similar to today, there’s no feed for you girls so make sure you keep hydrated in the morning. Annika, Laurin, anything to add?”
“Erm,” Leon put in, “I have if you don’t mind Frank.”
“Be my guest.”
“There’s only neutral service of course,” he told us, “I know a couple of you are used to team support and I hope you don’t need to resort to it but on top of what Frank has said, the neutral will have bidons and energy bars if you need them, just bear in mind that you’ll have to drop back to take advantage. You all know the service protocols?”
“Arm up and move to the kerb to stop.” Degenkolb supplied.
“That’s it,” Leon concluded.
“Girls?”
“Nothing to add Frank,” Annika advised, “except to wish you all good luck.”
“Hear, hear,” Laurin added.
“Okay then, the rest of the evening is yours, I’d promote an early night, I’m sure however that you are all more than capable of your own preparations, until tomorrow then.”
“You coming for a walk Gab,” Iz enquired as we all departed the restaurant, “there’s some sort of coffee shop just up the road.”
“Er sure,” well its still early yet so why not, “just need to make a call first.”
“Max?” Tal suggested.
“No,” I pretty much snapped, “Dad actually.”
“Hmm, sounds like a good idea, ten minutes?” Iz suggested.
“Fifteen,” Tal revised.
“Fifteen it is.”
“How’s Canada champ?” Dad asked when I got through.
“Okay,” I allowed with a shrug he obviously couldn’t see.
“So how’s the course?”
“Boring as.”
“Didn’t think it looked too bad.”
“There’s nowhere to hide Dad.”
“So have you guys decided on a tactic?”
“Not exactly, Izzy suggested I go from the gun, time trial it.”
“Risky,” Dad noted, “anything else?”
“Not really, it’ll probably end in a huge gallop.”
“Would that be an issue?”
“I’d rather not, I mean I’ve only got Tal and Iz, no one else will help here and the finish is a bit technical, touch a wheel and its over.”
“So its back to plan A then?”
“I think we’re going for a variation unless someone else pulls something.”
“Keep an eye on the Italians and Dutch, they’ve been strong all season and don’t discount the Canadians, home turf can be inspirational.”
“I guess,” I allowed.
“So what’re you up to now?”
“Going for a short walk I think, Izzy’s seen some coffee shop just along from the hotel.”
“Well don’t be out too long, get a good night’s sleep eh?”
“I will,” I sighed.
“We’ll all be watching kiddo, oh your boyfriend sends his best wishes by the way.”
“Max?”
“You’ve got more than one?”
“No!”
“Just checking kiddo, one I can live with, go enjoy yourselves at the coffee shop and do your best tomorrow eh.”
“I’ll try.”
“Nite kiddo.”
“Nite Daddy.”
Well I’m feeling a bit lonely.
“So where’s this coffee shop?” Tal queried as we assembled outside reception.
“Maybe two hundred along the road, I saw it when we came back earlier.”
“And its open?” I enquired.
“It said ‘Open 24’ outside,” Iz told us.
“Good enough for me,” Tal stated leading the way.
Two hundred? More like a thousand but it was open as advertise, we slipped inside and were soon nursing Cappuccinos and monster slices of cherry pie.
“Good job Frank can’t see this,” I opined.
“He’d only be jealous,” Izzy scoffed before putting another fork full into her oriface.
“Well I propose a toast,” Tal stated.
“We’ve only got coffee,” I pointed out.
“Who cares,” she replied.
“So what’s this toast then?” Iz queried.
“To us, whatever happens tomorrow.”
“I’ll buy that, to us,” I stated lifting my cup.
“To us,” Beyer agreed as the three of us clinked our cups of white froth.
“So we wearing the skinsuits then?” Tal suggested.
“Be a shame not to,” Iz mentioned, “Gab?”
“Guess so, any advantage is advantage,” geez, I sound like Dave Brailsford!
So of course, two Cappuccinos and a walk back to the hotel later and I was wide awake. My brain was fizzing like cheap pop, sleep wasn’t gonna happen anytime soon, I sought out my phone, ring Con. I tried twice before I realised my Handy wasn’t going to connect, oh well. Fifteen minutes later I had my phone book open and I was dialling Germany through the hotel landline.
“Hello?”
“Max?”
“That you Gaby?”
“In the flesh so to speak,” I sniffed.
“You crying? What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“If you say so, what time is it there?”
“Half eleven.”
“Shouldn’t you be asleep, its your big race tomorrow right?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“Look, hang on a minute we’re just eating, I’ll take it in the parlour.”
“’kay,” the line went silent for a bit before it crackled back into life.
“You still there?”
“Hmm.”
“So you won that, what do you call it, time affair?”
“Time trial,” I corrected, “yeah.”
“So my girlfriend is a Weltmeisterin eh, do you get the Spandex™ suit and boots and everything?”
“Don’t know about the boots but I do have a skinsuit.”
“Ooh, this I must see,” I could almost see his grin down the phone.
“Behave yourself!”
“I don’t want to.”
Well the conversation went downhill from there and no I’m not going to repeat it all. On the other hand by the time we ended the call, his dinner would be cold and it was costing me a fortune, I was feeling somewhat happier, less lonely and importantly tired. I turned the light off and in moments I was slipping into a happy slumber.
Maddy Bell © 22.10.2018
They are the most important annual races and yet the Worlds, for the riders at least, have none of interviews, presentations and other guff that we get week in, week out at the big races. No, for these championships all the hype takes place afterwards, beforehand everyone is equal, no preferential start line positioning, everyone anonymous in national federation strip. Iz, Tal and I have managed to get spots on the second row, just three more hopefuls in a sea of œstrogen fuelled nervousness.
Of course, whilst we riders were anonymous there’s still a bunch of crowd pleasing chatter to go through before our final rider address by the chief commisar. I let the words wash over me, its pretty much the same spiel every time, obeying the flags, feed and service protocols. I looked around me, picking out some of the more obvious national strips, just as many were unfamiliar.
Its not like you have to qualify as such to be here, every federation automatically gets a single start slot, you get extra’s depending on your riders prowess on the international scene, the highest ranking getting the maximum which this year is five slots. Having got here some of these girls will barely get out of the neutral zone before their race is over, in reality less than half the starters will even get to the line, let alone be in a position to contest things.
The danger today is that the course won’t be selective enough and a peloton with a big percentage of less experienced riders will contest the finale. Not if I can help it.
‘Shreeeeee!”
The whistle brought me back to the present.
“Ready chicas?” I asked offering a fist.
“Lets do it,” Izzy stated duplicating my fist.
“Obere alles,” Tal added before bumping her own fist with ours.
‘Paaaaaaarp!’
And we’re off.
Somewhere over a hundred teenage girls surged forward, a cacophony of clicking cleats, misaligned gears, cursing and nervous chatter. The crowd, not exactly huge, cheered and clapped as we threaded our way out of Stratford, Ontario for eighty five kilometres, fifty three miles. Of course we’re neutral for the first kilometre, in theory its just a procession, in reality its an elbow bashing, squeezing, pushing press for real start positions.
I nodded at each of my team mates as the lead commisar prepared to start us properly, time for action, only eighty four kilometres to go! The flag waved extravagantly before dropping even as the car accelerated ahead, we’re on. Of course everyone wanted to be at the front but even on a dual lane there’s only room for so many abreast and with the first turn fast approaching I was glad of our frontal starting position.
Of course, sensible people don’t go from the gun, they take a more measured, planned approach, I held my top twenty spot through the turn but before things settled down again Iz and Tali took off like the proverbial blue bummed insects. Oh you thought it was me going for a long one? Don’t be so daft, that’s eighty odd kilometres you’re talking. It was a big effort, a tactic Apollinaris have utilised with success more than once, I could see heads being shaken and no reaction from the more experienced riders around me.
Meanwhile the escapees were in full-on two up time trial mode, really laying down the rubber and making fair progress. Of course a few of the less astute tacticians gave chase, we’d expected as much, its your reaction to such actions that will shape the race. The big hitters paid these supplementary attacks as much attention as my girls, concentrating instead on massing their forces at the head of the peloton.
I quickly picked out the likely big hitters, Bronzini from Italy, Dettmeier, i’m guessing the girl in the distinctive Canadian strip is Poole, well a pretty serious looking group in fact. The Dutch and Italian ‘domestics’ had control over the bunch, only a couple of interlopers mixing it with the sky blue and orange jerseys. Behind us a comet tail of riders were whipping along in our wake, if you are back there now your chances of getting up to the front amount to almost nil.
When I did manage to see up the road we were already at the bend that announces the railway crossing and St Marys. My girls were well up the road, in sight but maybe a couple of minutes ahead, between them and us were maybe half a dozen girls caught, in effect, in no womans land – not gaining on the leaders but seemingly unwilling to admit defeat and drop back. Well that's their lookout, i’m quite comfortable sat here being drafted along at about forty kph.
A combination of rail crossings, turns and road layout meant that the girls were lost from sight for a bit, just long enough for those riding point to, if not forget them, be distracted from them. Our plan is quite speculative, at some point there will be a reaction, someone will get nervous, can that pair really go the distance? That's our bit of poker playing, if no one chases they might just make it to the finish, if there is a pursuit, with any luck they’ll act as a springboard for me.
We turned onto what i’ve dubbed ‘Fullarton Straight’, almost ten kilometres pretty much arrow straight. Not level thankfully but a slightly rolling topography, drop to the river, up again before dropping towards Fullarton with its bends, bridges and on this lap hard right turn back towards Stratford. In theory at least the leading pair will be easily pulled back by a semi determined peloton, but at the moment they don’t seem interested.
“Bond,” Bronzini greeted as we rolled along behind the head of the tadpole.
“’sme,” I agreed.
“Bit, how you say, pancake,” she told me in broken German.
“Not exactly the Alps,” I agreed.
“Sabine,” she nodded towards another sky blue jersey, “she thinks you are playing games.”
“Games?”
“Your friends, it is a suicide tactic.”
“Maybe, they took a chance.”
“To leave the famous Gabriella Bondt behind, I theenk not.”
I gave a shrug, “our team is democratic, everyone is equal.”
“This I don’t believe but we will see.”
“Indeed,” I agreed.
“Some advice, you see the Polish?”
“Uh huh.”
“Katjia Borodny, maybe a good wheel to follow.” with that she accelerated up to ‘Sabine’.
I looked over at the now identified Borodny girl, I recognised the name of course, her mother has been going head to head with Mum for goodness knows how long. Where i’m the tiny blonde she’s the tall, dark, solidly built powerhouse, think Josh with boobs. Josh is beatable and so is she, yes, worth watching but I think others are more dangerous to my plans.
We made the river crossing and whilst hardly steep, slowed on the short climb up onto the ridge. The descent seemed shorter than I remembered from yesterday, we swept along next to the river before making the turn and crossing the North Thames River for a second time. This bit of the course i’m effectively blind on as we missed it yesterday but I can read a map and was unsurprised when Dettmeier made a move up the first bit of climb.
The Italians seemed a bit wrong footed by the move but Borodny was right there, yours truly in close attendance. I hadn’t actually seen Iz and Tal for a bit but as we crested the rise, away in the distance, on the next climb, a flashing light pinpointed them, further ahead than i’d dared hope. As we dropped towards the next river crossing our three became six, eight, nine, twelve riders, a select group? Maybe, a useful size at least and with riders from all the big nations present we’ll be well protected from a rear assault all being well.
From a passive ride behind the orange and blue phalanx, things were now more business like and I couldn’t hide any longer. I could be excused not giving it a hundred percent, after all they are my teamies we are chasing after. The group was quick to get organised, clearly everyone new their way around a race, i’ll put money on the podium being decided from amongst this lot – well second and third, the top spot’s mine!
Up, down, river, back up and we made the turn back onto the main circuit and the rolling road to St Marys. Its difficult to tell of course but it looked like we’d reduced the gap to my compatriots a bit. My computer was showing an elapsed hour and ten minutes, thirty five kilometeres down, fifty to go.
It seemed like an eternity getting to the bend and then it seemed like mere seconds before we reached the rail crossing. I hate rail crossings at the best of times but now I have another reason, not sure of the how or why but within metres I didn’t have one flat tyre but two, shitza! Things got a bit squiggly but I managed to stay upright, my arm going up as soon as I was under control.
Bum, bum, bum!
Dad has had us practicing wheel changes, its never gonna be formula one but getting everything right can easily be win or lose. I had the back wheel out by the time the service chap reached me.
“Its both,” I panted as he started to put the replacement in.
“Okay,” he calmly told me, “out.”
By the time I had the front out, my saviour was done at the bank, seconds later he was pushing me along as I got my feet back in the pedals.
“cheers!”
Best laid plans and all that. Well no point dwelling on it Bond, there’s still a race to be won. I got comfortable, selected a sprocket lower and engaged time trial mode.
The rest of the group had either not realised my dilemma or weren’t too bothered in getting extra advantage, whichever it was they were still under a minute ahead as we turned, in turn for Fullarton. Which is when I first noticed the headwind, last time round I was hidden in the bunch and you don’t notice it so much when its behind, but go directly into it, with no shelter and its like hitting a wall.
Sugar! I need to get back up to the rest in double quick time, its over twenty kilometres up to the turn at Bornholm, all into this wind. One advantage of being a pipsqueak is there’s less of me to push through the air, i’m naturally more aero than bigger riders with a lower centre of gravity so its a double whammy in a one on one. Okay there’s eleven of them sharing the effort but who’s the Weltmeisterin against the clock? Yup me.
I was aided by some apparent lack of enthusiasm by those ahead, I steadily clawed my way across the gap, aided by the drop to the river a couple of K along the road. By the time we crested the ridge above Fullarton I was within touching distance so took the opportunity of the drop to the town to get some calories back on the inside. Izzy and Tal are still ahead but clearly fading, I spotted them ahead as the road made one of its few changes of direction just outside of the town.
My double deflation has meant a slight change in my plans, I had planned to get across to the girls somewhere around here but with the chasing i’ve had to re-evaluate things. I slipped back amongst my peers as we circumnavigated Fullarton, hopefully my teammies can keep it going a bit further. As we tracked the river beyond Fullarton I settled nack into the shelter of Borodny.
“Your friends, their gamble is almost over,” Bronzini told me.
“Was always a long shot,” I agreed.
“You had a problem, you were behind some yes?”
“Two punctures.”
“Not so good,” she opined, no doubt storing that bit of information in her tactical folder.
“This wind sucks.”
“I thought blows,” she suggested in reply.
“That too,” I allowed with a grin.
We climbed away from the river again, ahead of us the girls still had service, so over thirty seconds advantage. At the top we turned for Mitchell, the change in direction had us changing formation to counter the winds effects – not that we were doing proper turns on the descent. Mitchell, twenty five to go and most of that with some sort of tailwind, guess its time to throw my hat in, any longer and the others efforts will have been for nought.
Yesterday we picked out Mitchell as a potential attack point, its a bit of a pinch point with a couple of sharpish corners either side of another river bridge. Not only that but there’s a short, sharp climb a little further on, yep, ripe for a move. A quick glimpse around my companions revealed a few tired bodies, at the very least an attack will improve the odds.
I eased myself to the outside of the group as we approached the first turn then left my braking late which moved me up just behind Sabine, the second Italian. With more momentum through the corner than the rest, a snick of the gears and a short out of saddle bit across the bridge had me leading into the second, left hand turn. Then it was a case of Bond Boost as the road started to climb out of town.
The service wheel actually had a lower gear than my own which actually worked out quite well when the road tipped up. Out of the saddle up the ramp, I was able to comfortably keep on top of the gear rather than having to heave the pedals round. Ahead of me the rest of Team Germany were still going strongly but i’d closed most of the gap.
For this to work I have to get over to them quickly, if there’s any hesitation on my part any springboard will be cancelled out, those no doubt chasing me will catch us before I can make good on my escape. Due to my mechanical, this is all happening some ten kilometres, twenty, twenty five minutes after we’d planned so everything is being compressed. I crested the hill and quickly picked up speed on the slight down, reaching the girls after another couple of minutes effort.
“’bout flippin’ time Bond,” Tali gasped out.
“Soz, puncture, tell you later, you guys okay?”
“Knackered,” Iz allowed.
“There’s a chase on,” Tal advised glancing back.
“Best make the most of this then, you up for interference?”
“We can try,” Izzy advised.
A third rider meant that everyone got a longer rest and allowed a slightly higher velocity to be maintained. My presence gave the others renewed impetus, we were soon holding forty five K despite the headwind. We could see Bornholm ahead, there will hopefully be some wind assist after we make the turn.
The original plan was to move up at Fullarton, giving me a longer rest before going for it at Mitchell, I should’ve been away by now. When we made the Bornholm turn I sneaked a look behind, a reduced group were maybe fifteen seconds behind, damn. I played the likely scenarios out in my head, attack now and then get pulled back, wait and react to their arrival, might even get a bit of rest unless there’s a ride through.
i’ll be at a disadvantage with the tailwind if I go on my own, guess that’s decision made. After some sixty kilometres out front, Iz and Tal were definitely sagging now, our tactic has sort of worked, pulling some of the sting from the peloton and until fate stepped in, giving me a pretty much free ride. I indicated that we should ease up and we didn’t wait long before the chasers came through.
Thankfully it wasn’t a ride through, all three of us were able to catch the tail of the comet. I suppose the presence of Bronzini, Borodny and Dettmeier was to be expected, slightly more surprising was finding the Canadian girl here with them. Seven of us, I guess this is the final selection and we have the numbers if not the strength.
Dettmeier took the initiative, indicating we should rotate, not doing so will surely cause a reaction, a painful reaction and so we started working together.
“Nice move Bondt,” Bronzini offered.
“The long shot sometimes works,” I allowed.
“Si,” she agreed.
Borodny was the one to break the status quo shortly after we passed through Wartburg and the ten to go banner. It was clearly a serious move, she got maybe twenty metres before Bronzini took control of the chase with a huge effort. It was however, too much for Tali, I only realised we’d lost her when we slowed after killing the Pole’s move.
Through Sebringville and its five to go, I took a last pull on a bidon, this is gonna go to the wire. I was taken by surprise when it was Izzy who launched herself off the front through the next turn. At this stage no one was willing to sit and watch, Poole led the chase this time, not wanting to actively chase my team mate I sat on Bronzini’s wheel.
No sooner was the move closed down than Borodny went again but this time Dettmeier was straight on her wheel. Bronzini set off next, I followed, the finish is too close now, less than two kilometres away. Izzy was still hanging in, a spent force, but here nevertheless. It looks like it really will come down to a gallop, I surveyed the opposition, a couple of unknowns, Dettmeier and Bronzini have each won from small groups but are they really sprinters?
The red kite, one to go and no one very keen to take the initiative, me included. Then Iz took another flyer, it had no chance of success but drew my fellow riders into action, Poole led the pursuit, is that a chink in Borodny’s armour, a bit of a gap. Should I? Of course I should, I flicked off Dettmeier’s wheel across the road and into the first of the pre straight turns giving it about ninety percent effort.
I was vaguely aware of the PA, the cheering crowds, the barriers but also of someone on my wheel. Bum. Off the gas a bit through the last corner, there’s the line, two hundred to go, this is it. A flash of blue came through, an orange jersey in close attendance, come on Bond, one last effort.
A flip onto Dettmeier then another into clean air and open tarmac, the legs screaming, the red fog descending. I was vaguely aware of another rider on my outside, oh no you don’t missy, this one’s mine. From somewhere I squeezed a bit more power out, there’s the line, come on Bond, one last effort. I threw the bike forward in a last desperate effort.
Did I get it? My companions swerved around me as I braked to a halt, turning to see the big screen where the result flashed up even as I watched. I couldn’t see my name, where did I come then? The screen rolled and the result flashed up again, first, Bond G -yahoo!
I stood there and the tears started, i’ve won, i’m the Weltmeisterin, the double Weltmeisterin. I felt arms around me as Izzy pulled me into a hug, the waterworks completely burst their banks as I returned the embrace. I became aware of more bodies, of someone taking my steed, I wiped my eyes, time to meet my public!
Maddy Bell © 24.10.2018