Gaby - The Trouble with Hormones
A Fan Fiction by Sophie Jones featuring characters from Maddy Bell’s Gaby Bond series

Gaby was only just beginning to realise what she was doing. She had done everything so far on automatic since wrapping Max’s present. It had seemed the perfect thing to do when she left Chateau Bond and headed for the Ahrtal Express, but now! Oh, so many reasons were bouncing around in her head why she should or should not be doing this. She was not even sure if she was Gaby or Drew at the moment, or of both of them together, all she knew was she was beginning to think she should forget this crazy idea and turn around and hightail it back home fast as the wheels of the Schauff would take her.

OOhhhh Bum. This was crazy crazy crazy. If Con found out she would never let her forget it. At least Manda was off with big Sis in Bonn out of the way with their friends from college. So she couldn’t spill on her. Why did he do these things, and why oh why on earth had he gone and got himself all gussed up like Gaby on heat for? Was this what the operation last November had done to him when making him all girl? Was this what girl hormones do to you? No wonder Con and the girls roped him into all kinds of crazy stuff if all this was going on in their heads all the time.

And Max, he and Max were just friends. Ok. Had the odd dance together. So what. Maybe kissed a few times. Ok. alright, so more than just sort of friends then, and just because she was sort of kind of his girlfriend as well in the minds of Con and the rest of the Angels and for that matter every flipping body else at school, except his. Shitza, Hers. You know what I mean.

Except problem was Max was kind of nice to hug and hold on to and made her feel like she was all fluttery butterflies inside when he held her tight, and that was a sort of nice, even if he did kiss all horrible like a wet seal. Not, she thought, like the way the lovey Toni did.

And then to add insult to injury, when Max came for the odd Saturday roast lunch invited at Mum’s insistence. She, would get The Lecture before Max arrived on how boys could get, Her, pregnant now. After which they would lay down the law on where her guests went in the house. Connie and the girls could go up to his room, but Max was strictly banned from her bedroom on pain of death, or even going up the stairs. AS IF they could EVER think she was going to EVER, EVER, let a boy put his thingy in her, ANYWHERE. YUCK! That was just so gross to even think about it.

Drew sighed, when they were back in Church Wasop, when he and Mads were still boyfriend and girlfriend. It was so much simpler then, but now. Since coming to Germany…

“Hi Gaby.” An unknown woman’s voice broke into his thoughts.

Gaby automatically yelled a pleasant “Hi” back and waved to the woman getting into her car. Without even realising it she slipped back into being Gaby. Drew, male of the family Bond, only really surfaced now when he was on his racing bike. That was pure Drew territory and he loved it. Gaby ruled on the Schauff and most of the rest of the time if she were to admit it, and it was only at odd times now that he panicked over his sexuality when someone or something reminded him of what he was no more.

Correction, never really had been in the first place. That little operation losing the non-working boy bits and creating a vagina had done nothing to stop those mixed up feelings of who he really was. And even though he was all healed up from the op now, he was still getting those electric shocks down there, sometimes they almost had him fall off the bike. Just the nerve endings joining up Doc Fischer had said. Everything was working as it should, nothing to worry about, they would stop in around six or so months. Well you try having them, then. Having electric shocks in Your New Girly Bits, See how much you like it, he wanted to shout back at the doc and mum and dad. Worse still they had taken him off the pill and he had to put that thing in him every moon time which was just so gross to be believed.

That said, he did not notice being Gaby. That was the funny thing, he never had. They had been in Germany two and a half years now and he must have been seen as Gaby by everyone from the day they arrived here. He had just not noticed it. That first day when Steff had dragged him into the girl’s loos at school. That was how people saw him. They had never meet the real Drew. In all this time he had never been in the boy’s loos once. When they had only been here six months, there had been the school trip to Berlin and Frau Boxberg had put him with Con and the girls at night on the sleeper train and the hostel, even though she knew he was really a boy. So did she, did mum and dad know he was really a girl or going to end up one? Were they just letting him find out gently in his own time?

And everyone said he was the prettiest girl in school, even Jules hinted at it to tease him. He just saw Drew in a dress when he looked in the mirror. Ok, he looked a bit of a fox when he was made up all girl. But prettiest? And mum had said it was this belated puberty thing that had made snogging Toni and Max somehow turn his insides all gooie and made it all so wonderful. Now that was a talk he never wanted to have again. Mum in full mother daughter mode. So embarrassing. He shivered, even thinking about it she could feel the touch of Toni’s lips pressed on hers and felt a shiver of anticipation run down her spine.

“Gabs, get a grip on yourself girl. Or you’ll fall off the old boneshaker.” He mumbled. Which wasn’t really true as it was the most comfortable bike he’d ever ridden. Especially after the op. Problem was, it was just sooo sloooow.

Perhaps maybe she should go back home. The ride would clear her head. Then realising just how far he had come; Steffi and Bridget live here in Mayschub as well as Max, and if they had seen him, then everyone would know exactly where she had been or was going. So, best get in quick, dump said prezzie and vamoose PDQ. Preferably without bumping into Maxie during the course of said doing so.

Anyway, he was a lousy kisser so even if a little bit of lip smacking did take place it would not take long before she was off.

Crap, did he just think that. Flipping hormones. Think about something else for goodness sake.

People saying Hi to her happened all the time now. While Gaby was no longer the Weinkonigin. She had somehow kept the title in the way ex-American Presidents keep being called Mr President after they stopped being President. So people still introduced her as their former Weinkonigin to others and proudly called her their Weltmeisterin Weinkonigin behind her back. The town’s website still had photos of her and mum when they came back from the worlds and her at various events and dances, presenting prizes all glammed up and still on the valley wine pages. And while she may be English, the people of the valley the Bond family lived in fiercely regarded both her and her mother as their own.

Gaby’s mind turned to the coat she was wearing. An expensive designer pink sheepskin duffle coat Mum had bought her to replace the one ruined by baby Gabrielle in the snow storm at Christmas. Poor kid would grow up to find out he was named after some girl biker. Gaby laughed, she would have to look out for a midget sized assassin when he was old enough to come after her to get even. Fabe was still stuck in hospital, she would have to ring her tonight and find out how she and the little assassin was doing.

Marlene had admired her coat when she was on the Express, the duffle coat was made of pink dyed sheepskin squares with a wool lining which worked brilliantly for keeping out the cold while riding the Schauff to school. Mum had surprised her with it after Gaby came home from hospital.

Everything last year mum had bought her had been real girly-girly and so not her. No. thinking about it, everything mum had bought her since they moved to Germany had been like that. After all when they came back that first Christmas for the Olympic thing in London with Princess Ann and he got chocolate all over his boy stuff in the case, she had just happened to have a spare dress he had never seen her wear before that fit him perfectly and a push-up bra his size as well in her case. Perhaps she just knew, woman’s instinct and all that on how everything was going to end up.

After getting off the Ahrtal Express it was only a short way to Max’s castle as Manda had put it. It was only a couple of stops down from home after all, and no way was she turning up all sweaty an’ manky from cycling, after taking all that time over her make-up.

She was dressed from neck to toe in Eloise Couture, including some very flimsy lingerie Maximilian Von Strechau was Never Ever going to see in a million years! That made her smile and feel sexy and then she remembered when Mum came with her last year to find something for the last wedding she went to with Max and family.

Jenny had decided her newest daughter was far too vulnerable to outside influence when Gaby returned home one day having gone into town to buy some stockings after school, as Jenny thought they would ease the pressure of tights pressing her knickers against the discharge tube for her periods until her op was done. But having paused too long outside Eloise Couture’s window. Gaby had arrived home with four pairs of old fashioned nylon stockings and a bill for one hundred and thirty-six euros. Jenny had smiled though when she found Gaby had been to the bank so she could give her father the money for them along with the bill.

But Dave had still hit the roof. How on earth could his youngest child, hardly two years a girl, spend one hundred and thirty-six euros on just four pairs of stockings? Even Jen had not tried that one and she knew how to forget the price of a newly bought dress when it suited her.

So one Saturday Gaby, Goth Girl and Jenny were outside Eloise Couture. Jules decided to go get a cup of coffee and ring her friends on her handy rather than watch Baby Sis get yet another evening dress, and although she hid it well, Gaby thought she saw a wistful look in her sister’s eyes towards the dresses in the shops windows before she left.

It had never occurred to her Jules might want to come somewhere like this to buy dresses. She has always been so dismissive of Gaby coming here. She watched her sister head off and felt her heart burn to think Jules was hurting and feeling left out of things. Coming in and watching me getting a couple of dresses for the wedding, would be like sticking in the knife and then twisting it. Gaby felt guilty that Jules was not sharing the moment with a dress of her own.

“Come on then, Gaby. In you go.” Jenny had the door open and ushered her youngest inside with a gentle push.

“Hello Gaby.” Gerta’s smile was friendly, welcoming, then she turned to Jenny and switched to full beam. “Mrs Bond. How nice to meet you in person, it’s been such a pleasure dressing young Gabrielle.”

Hey, I’m not a six year old, you know.

“Now let me see, that young lady has the Strechau wedding and two presentation dinners, and you have two as well, and of course an afternoon award event too. A cocktail dress for that I think.”

Mum looked a little startled, and started to back track. I mean I know, how does Gerta know all this stuff.

“No, really. Were here just for Gaby at the moment, just something for the wedding in November. But please, call me Jenny.”

That’s Mum’s downfall, she likes to get on with people and for them to like her, and she’s a real people person. She could chat for the Olympics. You should see her and Maria when they get going. She might be ruthless on a bike like me, but here up against Gerta. No chance!

“MMmmm, I know Jenny, but being a world class sportswoman, a world champion, you know what it is like when the international press see you are re-using evening wear they have seen you in before. They are so cruel.” Gerta waves a dismissive hand. “For a man, they just use the same suit over and over again, it does not matter, but for a woman. It is different, she has to look beautiful in a fresh dress or she is criticised. It is unfair, but it is expected, that is the way of life.”

Greta is sooo good at this, but it is just great seeing her take over someone else for a change and it not being me. I’m never going to live down the four stockings thing at home. She has already eased mum’s coat off her while talking and has her by the evening dresses and is going thru them, pulling dresses out and holding up to mum, then tut tuting and putting them back again. Mum just kind of hunches her shoulders at me in surrender grinning and I grin back. Bin there, had that done to me, too. I can see mum’s trying not to show it, but she really is enjoying it all. What girl however young or old does not like trying on dresses like this while being made a big fuss of. Ok I admit it, I sort of like it too. So what.

Goth girl has got to see this. I quickly call her up on my handy.

“Jules, where are you,” I whisper, “Greta’s got mum wrapped round her little finger trying on evening dresses.”

“Oh Wow! I gotta see this, thanks Gabs, won’t be two ticks.”

“Now Jenny, are you wearing heels and hose?” I bet Greta has already figured mum has loafers and bare legs under her jeans.

“I wasn’t really expecting to try dresses on,” Mum tries to excuse herself in Greta’s eyes. “This is really just about Gaby and the wedding.”

Greta’s having none of it.

“Really Jenny, we must set examples for young Gabrielle. She mixes with the cream of society now,” Then to Dotty. Shoe size… Hmm, petite like Gaby’s, a touch bigger maybe, but the same size I think will do.”

Ouch. I haven’t got big feet. But then I can wear mum’s shoes. Hey, she must have really small feet. Mum is shoed to the dressing room with a slinky shimmering evening dress as Dot hands her the familiar pair of high-heel court shoes I usually get to perch in.

When mum comes out the changing room, Jules is on the edge of my chair.

“Way to go mum.” She whoops seeing the evening dress mum has got on.

Mum’s head flips round from the mirror to see Jules and she does that special smile she always does whenever she sees me an Jules together with me in full Gaby mode. Which is all the time now, worse luck.

“Juliette Bond, manners.”

“Sorry Mum.”

“Dot, a chair for Miss Juliette.”

Jules pulls a face at me at being called ‘Miss Juliette’. I mean she is eighteen next year. We giggle and Mums grinning at us like the Cheshire cat. “So you like, girls.”

“You bet, you look ace in that, mum.” I add just as excited as Jules is seeing Mum in this long slinky evening dress that looks like liquid blue sea on her. It is so Apollinaris’s colour as well. Oh boy, I hope they have one in my size too, then we can go to the awards mother and daughter in the same dresses.

“Mum, you’ve got to have that one. Dad’s eyes will be out on storks.” That’s Jules.

Mum loves it. “Do you have one my size, Greta.” I plead. “Then we can go to the gong shows dressed the same, can we Mum, can we pleeease?” I plead.

Mum grins at me, laughs and asks Greta who pulls out one hopefully my size. Mum glances at Jules and whispers something else to Greta who slyly looks over at Jules busily taking a picky on her phone of mum. Gerta pulls out another one and adds it to mine. I glance at Jules and I don’t think she’s cottoned on to what’s happening.

Mum tries on some more before settling on a sliver satin sheath dress with pencil straps as well. Greta puts two more aside before she has mum trying on LBD’s.

My turn. Goodie. First we zip through the evening dresses to check for any work that Dot has to do on them. Gees, I did not realise in the second one your boobs sits bra-less on a kind of shelf built in the dress showing just about everything to anyone looking down in front of you, and in my case that’s just about everyone. Looking down I can see my nips, Max will go blind if I wear this at the wedding dance thing I think.

“And just what is that evil little grin all about young lady.”

I look up blushing at mum who is smiling at me with a look that says she knows precisely what I was thinking. I go my usual embarrassed colour from my nips to the top of my head with my chest and neck burning. Thankfully Dot has me move so she can put some pins in the dress, it needs taking up a bit. Then Greta starts on the LBD’s.

There is one with black mesh sleeves and has it over the shoulders and the scoop front that looks like the one in one of Dad’s old movies we watched on DVD last night. The Prize with Paul Newman and Kim somebody. She was blonde too and wore this hot black dress near the end and I liked it lots and this looks like it. For once to my surprise Greta agrees with me. Usually I choose a dress, Greta dismisses it and pulls out another one which I hate. She then pushes me into the changing room. I put it on and find it is perfect and find I like it after all. For the church I choose a dress that looks like a two-piece. The skirt is a mid-green satin while the top is a lighter green of cotton and mesh sort of thing, and I’m use to wearing like super high heels now for weddings that make my legs like look super long.

When I’m all done Jules starts to get ready to go. Mum looks across to me and winks.

“Not so quick young lady. Your turn now.”

“Wha, what mum. Me?”

“Yes, you. You don’t think I’m going to miss the opportunity to get both my daughters dressed nicely for once do you.”

“Um… I…” Jules stands frozen. Her mouth open. Her face, I wish I had my camera with me.

“Come on girl, I don’t have all day.” That is Greta keeping the show on the road. A stunned, but kind of excited Jules is hauled by Greta to the changing room. Greta glances at Jules clod hoppers and shakes her head. “Another one. What is your shoe size, are you the same as your Mother and Sister Young lady?”

Mum and I sit and watch Jules put through the mill trying on the identical dresses to ours. When looking at the cocktail dresses I see Jules excitement rise and fall every time Greta’s hand goes near and them passes this gold dress. In the end I whisper to mum I want to buy it for Jules if she likes it.

“Are you sure, it’s going to be expensive?” she whispers back.

“Yes. I really want to.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” Mum beams at me and hugs me tight and asks Gerta to put Jules in the dress.

Dot goes and gets some gold super high-heel courts for Goth girl to wear with it. Jules is grinning from ear to ear when she comes out looking like a modern 1920’s flapper. Given the ribbing Goth Girl gave me over those stockings I got, I know just the kind she needs to wear now and tell Greta. Dot is sent to get them while Gerta moves across the shop and returns with a gold suspender belt. Jules is sent back to put them on and when she comes out she looks perfect in the super high-heels wearing the silvery silk seamed stockings.

“That’s so you, Jules, no more Goth Girl. Flapper girl rules. You’ll have to go blonde again.” I giggle.

I know, I guess you are wondering why I want to buy such an expensive dress for Goth Girl with my hard earned race cash. I mean she has dropped me in it good and proper a few times over the years. Well, I know she wants it big time, an’ I know we can fight like cat and dog at times, but she is going to be eighteen next year and will be off to Uni after next summer. She is still seeing dopey Boris. Longest boyfriend she’s ever had, and might do something stupid like get engaged to him there.

But that’s not why I want to buy it for her, but for the other stuff. When her little brother or sis has needed her real bad, she has been there for me dropping whatever she was doing, however important it was to her. When we were in America and I had to be Gaby all the time at Grottoes and it got too much. And when mum had cancer and we thought she was leaving us for some guy, I needed lots of hugs and comfort, she hugged me just as tight each time as I cried myself to sleep in despair time and time again.

And when I was growing boobs and needed girl stuff back in England she got it for me, advising me what to do when my nips became, well you know, active. I could not have talked to dad about these things, needing bras and kickers and stuff and I could not bring myself to talk to mum over the phone about it. Way too embarrassing. So Jules got them for me knowing mum and dad would tear a strip off her big time for not telling them when they found out. So I wanted to say thank-you to her for being my sis and being there for me when I needed her most before it was too late and we had moved on in life and got all grown up.

We get outside an Jules hugs Mum thanking her for the dress.

“Don’t thank me, Jules. It was your sister who saw you liked it so much and asked me to let her buy it for you.”

Goth Girl turns and looks at me mouth open.

I grin, “Catching fly’s sis?”

Then she grins back, her eyes watering and she grabs me and hugs me to death.

“Oh, Gabs, I so love it. Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you.”

Mums waits beaming at us waiting till Jules let goes the death hug round my neck and has to wipe her eyes cus she can’t see anymore, before checking the time on her watch.

“Good grief, we were in their nearly three hours. Let’s grab a quick coffee, Jules you can fix your make-up and then we’ll call your dad to come pick us up. We’ll eat out tonight and we can wear our new Little Black Dresses for him to see.”

She grins and laughs and pulls us into a hug as we walk to the coffee shop. “Girls that was so much fun doing that with the both of you. Mind you your dad is going to kill me when he sees the bill.”

So ok, so what if I’m wearing the green dress now. It’s not what I would normally wear, but everyone liked it when I wore it at Analise’s wedding last November and I did choose it. I’m going to wear the black one with the mesh sleeves at Max’s birthday party. That should have his eyes popping out as it gives him a right eye full of my boobs under the black mesh while we are dancing boobs to chest so to speak!

Well here it is, the Von Strechau Castle as Manda called it when Max was kind enough to show Manda and me around last year. I didn’t realise how big it was or had so many rooms and then I felt a right plonker when his Gran ticked me off for not calling her Gran. Manda gave me a right weird look the way Gran treated me like I was her grand-daughter.

Planting my kitten heel slingbacks back on terrea-firmer, or at least as much as the cobbles in the Strechau courtyard allowed, I put the Schauff on its stand. Now. Where to go and leave his prezzie and be out of here before Maxie knows I’ve been here.

“Hello Gaby.”

Flipping heck.

Herr Strechau’s voice has me jumping out of my skin, I spun round to see him carrying a box across the courtyard to the restaurant entrance.

“Sorry Gaby, didn’t mean to make you jump. Have you come to see Max. They’re getting the store room ready for the tomorrow night’s party.” He’s grinning at me and turns his head and nods across the courtyard to an open door... “BOYS, you have a visitor.”

There is faint noise from within of someone falling over and yelling in pain. I hadn’t noticed the doors were partly open when I pedalled in. And what did he say, Boys? Bum, I really wish I’d not come now. I am beginning to feel really stupid all dressed up like this. And if they blab to the others at school, I’m dead.

“Here you are Herr Strechau.” I hold open the glass inner door to the restaurant for him.

“Thank-you Gaby, see you later.”

“Yes Herr Strechau. Bye.

“Hu, Hi Gabs.”

“Hi Marty.”

Martin Preiser, Bern’s long distance boyfriend had come out the part open doors nursing his elbow and arm. He turns and hisses back inside in a loud whisper I can hear. “It’s Gaby.” And waves to me and disappears back inside like he’s on a piece of elastic as Max yells “Ow, Shitza,!” followed by what sounds like him falling over boxes. I wait not moving till both of them hobbled out rubbing arms and legs.

“Hi Liebein.” Max grins at me. He seems really tall now days.

“Hi Max.” I say shyly, suddenly tongue-tied.

Usually it’s me telling him to leave off as I turn him down when he’s asking me out for the hundredth time again, but it’s all changed now. Not because I’ve been to a couple of weddings with him and family as his squeeze, that was just being a friend, but because when Claudia died from her MS, he hugged me at school and I let him and sort of hugged him back for comfort, too.

I mean we’ve not gone out together or anything, but at dances it’s just me and the girls or Max or Mart I dance with. I mean it’s useful as it keeps the wolves away who seem to want to dance with me for some reason. I don’t understand why they want too, I use to be a boy, still am in my head, so them even wanting to get up close and personal with me is a bit creepy and frightening. I like it that with one look from Max or Mart they back off.

Martin breaks the silence.

“I got a letter from Bern this morning with some photos of Drea. I’ll bring them tomorrow.”

I nod my head, “Me too. The little minx is looking great, isn’t she.”

That’s me, the great conversationalist. Got to work on that someday.

Before I can embarrass myself further the Preiser’s old G Wagon pulls into the courtyard. Herr Preiser’s got the window down and waves to us.

“Hi, kids.”

“Hello Herr Preiser.” Both me and Max warble together.

Martin starts heading over to his dad.

“Hi Dad.” Martin looks back, “See you tomorrow Max. Bye Gabs.”

Marts almost at the G Wagon when I call to him. “Martin.”

Martin looked back to me.

“Don’t tell anyone I was here. Please, Mart.” I ask quietly. Martin nods.

“Ok Gabs. No worries.” He smiles and climbs into the G Wagon.

Max moves over grinning at me. “You don’t want the other angels to know you came here?”

He’s, laughing at me.

Grrr.

“Hey. Is that for me?” he has seen the wrapped oblong box in the Schauff’s basket.

I nod. I wish I wasn’t here right now. Stupid stupid hormones. I’m sure I’m blushing like crazy. Max is back by me having retrieved his present from the Schauff and snakes an arm around my waist and I should tell him to get off, but I just want to cry my eyes out at the moment for no reason and lean into him and just about manage to hold off on the tears.

“Hey Gabs. I’ve got to show you my project now your here, Dad’s got me a car for my birthday.”

“He’s got you a car! You can’t even drive for another year.”

“Yes I know. It gives me time to work on it.” He adds excitedly.

Well that makes sense, not.

We move over to the Coach House, me leaning against Max and kind of enjoying it. He disengages from me and opens the doors wide to reveal not the shiny BMW sort of car I was expecting, but a right old banger.

“Isn’t she beautiful.”

Yeah, if you like rust. It is a nineteen-sixties Triumph Herald. A neighbour back in Church Warsop had one that was in immaculate condition, it only came out if the sun was shining. This one is a rust bucket. It looks like it would fall apart if I gave it the slightest of touches with the tip of one of my slingbacks. I look at it pretending to be interested. I’m not into cars apart from my model cars in my bedroom. Max is excitedly telling me his plans for the rust bucket.

“…and once we get rid of the body and clean the chassis, I’m going to build a new body from aluminium and marine ply on it so that it looks like an old MG.”

I nod and smile, I’m not listening. I’m thinking how much I liked leaning against him as we walked over to the coach house and how much I do not want Con and the girls knowing that fact.
“…and here on the wall I’ve got the instructions, they are in English as they are from an English kit car magazine from ages ago. I found it at a second-hand book stall at the car show in …”

Were on a sunny beach, I look great in my white bikini. He’s admiring me. Chasing me down to the clear water to grab and kiss me…

“Mmmm, what?”

“Can I open my present?”

“Oh. Yes, sure.”

Got, I was miles away. Max rips away at my carefully wrapped paper removing it in seconds. I try not to show my irritation at my neatly wrapped paper and the pretty bow and ribbon that took me ages to do being ripped apart.

“Oh, Wow! Thanks Gaby! She’s perfect.” He whips round and kisses me for a second. He has already ripped the end of the box off to get the car out and hurries off to the other work bench for a screw driver to unscrew it from its base. It is a one twelfth scale model of a 1947 MG TC in British Racing Green and cost me a bomb from the model shop Roni took me too. Max has got MG TC’s on the brain for some reason. Looking at the rust bucket, it is hard to think he can turn it into something like an MG, still he is good with his hands. Looking back at him, Max is like a little kid with his head laid on the work bench. He’s got the MG on its wheels with his head down close so he can peer inside under its real leather roof.

“This is fantastic, Gabs. Thanks.”

Then he turns and kisses me before I can tell him to get lost, again! Oooooow, these aren’t the wet slobbery kisses Max usually does. I kind of sort of melt in closer to him and rest against him and look up when we break for air.

“What did you do Max, get a book from the library on how to kiss.”

“No, I went and asked Sophia, told her I needed to learn how to kiss you properly.”

For a moment I think ‘Hands off Sophia! You had your chance and didn’t want him. He’s mine now.’ And then I think I must ring her to get the lowdown on her teaching Max how to kiss. I bet it’s a doolie. She’s done a great job.

Max pulls away. Noooo! Don’t do that! He steps back all formal and Germanic, clicks his heels together and bows his head before looking back at me. For a second I think he’s going to do something stupid like ask me to marry him.

“May I have this dance, Fraulein.”

Got, that’s a relief, I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding and giggle. Max uses his hi-fi’s remote to start some slow jazzy music playing and steps up close to me and takes my hands and pulls me close to him. He smiles at me and I melt and we are dancing up close slowly around the rust bucket. Mmmmmm, lovely.

“I’m home.” I breeze into the kitchen full of the joys of spring. Mums started dinner. Chops, yum.

“Hi Mum, Jules and Manda back?”

“No, but they should be soon.”

I sigh with relief. Without thinking I lose the pink duffle coat on a chair and give her a hug.

“That’s nice.” She leans back to look at me. “My, you do look smart and happy with yourself this afternoon. What have you been up too?”

“Nothing. Just out and about.” I answer a bit too quickly.

“Ok, want a drink?”

Phew! Got away with it. If Mum suspected anything she’ll not stop interrogating me till she has the lot out of me.

“Please, Tea.” I’m into tea again. I think it’s a home thing.

Jenny smiled at Gaby. She had seen Wilhelm unload Gaby’s bicycle from the back of his 4x4 from the kitchen window.

“In that case if you don’t want your sister and Amanda to know you’ve been up to see Max, you better go change, Missy.”

For a moment Jenny thought Gaby was going to deny it as she looked up at her mother open mouthed. Then.

“Kay.”

Jenny let go of her daughter and Gaby shot off, her heels clattering as she disappeared up the stairs as she raced up to her bedroom to change. Jenny smiled to herself. At sixteen she had been boy crazy, Gaby had a long way to go to catch up before she was in anyway close to how she had been, or her sister Jules for that matter. She and Dave had worried how Drew was going to cope with the mental change of really being a girl and not just playing at being a girl when he was with his girlfriends, but it seemed hormones were going to help with that after all.

The End

If you have not read Maddy’s short story Gabrielle Noel, you will not know about little Gabrielle and Fabien. If you go to Maddy Bell’s Story Treasury, the first Gaby story is Gabrielle Noel. Or if I have not messed up! You can use the link below.
Gabrielle Noel