Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad
part: 349

1st Anniversary Episode - Celebrating One Year Of This Story!

We set about sorting out a ‘nice’ bike for Stella. Whilst mine were suitable as far as size was concerned, she didn’t like the idea of clipless pedals. I admit it took me a while to get used to them and they can cause you to fall off if you forget to ‘unclip’ before you put your foot down.

For the uninitiated, clipless means–without toe clips, (sometimes called rat-traps) which are cage like things which attach to the front of the pedal and your foot goes into them. There are a number of variations on them. The clipless, don’t have this toe cage, and work on cleats which are attached to the sole of a cycling shoe, which is suitably hard enough to hold them. The cleats then ‘clip’ into spring loaded pedals which hold the shoe secure and in the optimum position for maximum efficiency. They do however, need to be ‘clipped’ in, and out, before you try to put a foot down.

Nearly every cyclist has stories of falling off because they couldn’t get their foot out, or of clinging to walls, lamp-posts and other suitable immovable objects, when they couldn’t get the shoe to release. Usually, they do eventually, it’s just that if you’re riding up a hill and they stick, it’s difficult to stop without either grabbing something or falling off. Grabbing something is definitely less painful!

So, we ended up down the bike shop and looked at a range of hire bikes that she could rent for a few hours riding and hopefully decide she enjoyed it. I was actually in favour of her using a mountain bike or hybrid rather than a road bike, because they are generally easier than the drop handlebars of road bikes. However, Stella had other ideas and chose a road bike, thankfully with a triple chainset. The guy at the shop had to change the pedals, but that didn’t take long.

A triple chainset, just means that the gearing on the front mech, that’s the one by the pedals, has three cogs or rings, instead of two. Serious roadies, think that triples are for wimps, but they do give a greater range of gears, especially the lower ones and are useful for hills. Mountain bikes almost always have triples.

Stella chose a Trek pilot, which is a basic road bike but is fine for what she needed, and it has the advantage of inline brakes, or extra brake levers in the middle of the handlebars.

I stood outside the shop while she found her ‘sea legs’ slowly riding up and down, getting her balance as she moved slightly faster each time. “How am I doing?” she called.

“You’re doing fine,” I called back, what else could I say?

Half an hour later, we actually went for a ride. I took her off on a relatively flat route, utilising cycle paths where possible, to keep off the main roads as she felt nervous. I hoped we didn’t meet the miscreant who’d been assaulting cyclists, with two of us, I felt it was unlikely. I didn’t say anything to Stella, keeping her mind on the cycling was going to be engaging her brain enough as it was.

By the time we got back to the bike shop we’d done about ten miles, enough to warm me up and finish her off. She’d had enough, but she wasn’t finished by any means and arranged to keep the bike for the whole weekend — I’d take it back on Monday. I had to admit, she was certainly a trier.

With the bikes de-wheeled and locked in the boot of the car, we went shopping, something she hadn’t done for several weeks. It was interesting to notice the change in her. She had less staying power than previously. In the old days she’d explore anything and everywhere, now several times she ’couldn’t be bothered’ to enter a number of shops we’d have previously gone into. I didn’t mind, I wasn’t in a shopping mood, and I didn’t need anything. I was also conscious that with things possibly happening with the bank, I would try and save some of my salary, while I was getting one, rather than spending it.

We went for lunch in a pub near the town centre, it was adequate but nothing to write home about, however, these places change hands so frequently, the next time it was under ‘new management’, it may prove to offer gourmet meals. But not today. I coughed up for the meal, considering that Stella, who was officially on sick leave, was worse off than me.

We did end up in one or two boutiques and she did reach for her credit card, yes, her credit card, remember, Simon, was stuck in London. She spent more money than I would have for the skirt and jacket she chose. I was about to ask where she’d wear them, then recollected she was possibly going to take up a position at the bank instead of returning to nursing. It was her decision, even though I thought it was the wrong one. I did however, implore her to maintain her registration as a nurse, in case she changed her mind. She actually agreed without any dissent.

Finally, we ended up in a bookshop and I bought a book on the Tour de France and a fiction book, a whodunnit. Back at the car, we went home via Morrison’s where I bought a large chicken and enough vegetables to do for two good meals.

“Does Tom ever allow you to make him a curry?” asked Stella as we walked back to the car, she knew of his addiction to chicken curry.

“No, he keeps the curry powder locked away to stop me using it.” I pouted in semi-disgust.

She laughed and shook her head, “Poor, Cathy.”

“So, I do the same with the tea bags, he is forbidden to make it.”

“How can anyone make a mess of tea?”

“Arrgggggggghh! An unbeliever,” I wailed, which made her laugh helplessly and two bystanders to give us very odd looks as we walked arm in arm to the car.

“That couple thought we were gays,” said Stella, indicating two women who were walking across our path.

“So what, I don’t care, let them think what they like,” I said rather rashly.

“I thought you didn’t like the idea of being accused of lesbianism?” she challenged back at me.

“I still don’t, why?”

“Aren’t you being a bit contradictory, saying one thing just now but actually being the opposite?”

“Probably. I’m not gay and have no leanings that way–hey, that rhymes and that bit too. Gay, way, hey,” I repeated to myself, “I hope you weren’t meaning something else there, were you?”

“Like what?” she said as we got into the car.

“I’m not sure,” I said, although I was absolutely sure what I meant.

“You mean, am I propositioning you?” she held my eye contact despite my wanting to look away.

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” I wanted to cry with self loathing.

“Don’t, I was,” she said quietly.

“I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to insult yo–what?”

“I’ve done some real thinking over the past few weeks and decided that I’ve been in denial, I’m a lesbian and I fancy you!”

Oh shit! We should have stayed on the bikes, I could have out run her on that–now what do I do or say. “There’s nice for you,” I said weakly, sounding like someone from the other side of the River Wye.

“You’re not shocked or horrified?” she asked, staring deep into my eyes.

I felt like a rabbit being hypnotised by a weasel, “Erm, me of all people, shocked or horrified, I don’t think so. Why?”

“So you don’t have any objections about me sleeping with you again tonight, then?”

“Erm…not really,” what else could I say. I was speechless.

She held my eyes in her gaze totally in control of the situation and me, then I noticed the edges of her mouth crinkling and the same at the edges of her eyes. Suddenly she burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, not sure that I wanted to hear the answer.

“You are, or your face is.”

“Gee thanks, now you’ve given me a complex about my looks.” I pouted and felt very strange.

“You look beautiful to me, Cathy.”

“Yeah, but if you're gay…”

“I’m not, but I couldn’t resist it,” she roared with laughter until tears were running down her cheeks.

“What?” I was confused. “Are you or aren’t you?” I asked, not that she was obliged to tell me as it was none of my concern.

“No, I’m not, but the look on your face was priceless.” She was still laughing.

“I don’t think that’s funny, Stella. You just put me on the spot, for no reason other than self amusement. That’s tantamount to abuse, especially given my background.”

Her expression changed immediately. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world, you know that.”

“Do I, on what grounds?”

“Oh, Cathy, we’re sisters. I love you. You know that and I thought you loved me as a sister.”

“I do, you silly cow, but see how much you like it?” I said smirking. I didn’t really feel amused but I thought she might get the message of, the biter bit.

“You bitch! She said, slapped me on the arm and giggled, “I’ve been well and truly out played, haven’t I? You’ve learned well.”

“Maybe,” I said and drove towards home.