“Right, young lady,” Mum started once we were in the car, “ground rules.”

“Ru-ules?” I moaned.

“Yes rules,” she confirmed.

“Go on then,” I sighed.

“The doc was deadly serious about not riding or any strenuous exercise for at least another fortnight, she might allow something gentle then depending on how you are healing.”

“I’m gonna be so out of condition!” I groaned.

“It’s your own fault, you had to push things last weekend, couldn’t wait.”

“But…”

“Don’t try blaming anyone else, instead of three weeks it might be eight.”

“That’s nearly Weihnachts!”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Mine,” I allowed.

I’m gonna go round the bend, no bikes or even dance class, I might as well join a monastery – on second thoughts maybe it should be a nunnery
 
 

“You still fancy going to the BLCA do?” Mum queried as we waited for the kettle.

“BLCA?”

“British Ladies, we’re both invited and Manda too.”

“I’d forgotten about that.”

“Evidently, so?”

“Hell yeah!”

“Your Dad’s taking Anita and Erika on the ferry, he’ll pick us up from Leeds Bradford, I’ll book the tickets later.”

Anita and Erika.

“Guess I won’t be doing the cross,” I moped.

“Well we can go on the BLCA ride instead and watch the cross afterwards, our flight back will be about seven thirty.”

BLCA ride eh?
 
 

“The prodigal daughter returns.” Dad offered when he got in.

I blew him a raspberry.

“Nice I’m sure, your mother talked to you about Yorkshire?”

“Yeah, should be pretty cool.”

“Well some of us will be working.” He noted.

“Um, how are we all gonna fit in the car? There’ll be like six of us?”

“Seven, Carsten’s coming too,” he advised, “we’ll be using the bus – plenty of room.”

“Oh right.”

Yeah the Apollinaris bus, nine seats and a huge luggage area, makes sense.

 
 
“Ga-ab! Phone!” Mum yelled up the stairs.

“’Kay.”

Who’s ringing me at eight thirty on a Saturday morning, the girls are coming later so it won’t be one of them. I made my way downstairs, the house phone was waiting for me on the hall table.

“Hello?”

“Gaby, it’s Gloria von Strechau.”

“Oh hi er morning, Gloria.”

“Morning, next week,” she started.

“Analise's wedding?”

“The wedding yes but you are invited to the Polterabend Freitag also.”

“The what?”

“Polterabend, it’s a dinner for family and friends, there was the big meal in Augsburg if you remember?”

“Uh huh,” I agreed.

“It’s not so formal for Analise and Joachim, a restaurant in the city.”

“Okay,” I allowed, ever the conversationalist.

“Your mother says you are home schooling this week so I’ll pick you up in the afternoon and we can get ready at the hotel.”

“Hotel? We’re staying overnight?”

“Didn’t I say? We can’t be driving up on Saturday, silly, you’ll need to be dressed with the other maids and of course Willy will want a drink or several!”

“Um right, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“We’ll bring you back to Dernau Sunday morning.”

I’m guessing there’s a post-wedding do to attend, lot of fuss for someone else’s nuptials if you ask me. But of course no one is – asking me that is.

“Er right, so two nights then. Do I need to fetch my dress from the shop?”

“Of course not, everything will be there waiting, all you need to do is bring the prettiest girl in the Ahrtal.”

“Someone else is coming?”

Gloria spluttered on the other end of the line, “You are so funny sometimes. You have a dress for the Polterabend? Nice but not too formal.”

“Er yeah, I think so,” I allowed, the Biba probably, have to check it’s clean.

“Good, I’ll confirm the time later in the week, tschuss.”

“Yeah, um, tschussie.”

 
 
Deep joy, I thought I was just going as a guest, then it changed to bridesmaid and now there’s this Polterabend thing. And getting out of it isn’t going to happen.

“You sorted?” Mum enquired.

“We’re staying in Bonn Friday and Saturday.”

“Gloria said the other week.”

“No one told me.” I harrumphed.

“You were probably occupied elsewhere,” she opined raising a brow.

What’s that supposed to mean?

“I’m getting a shower!” I mumped as I set off back upstairs.
 
 

“And I’ve got to go to this Polterabend dinner thing too.”

“You are so lucky, Gabs,” Nena sighed.

“You can call it lucky, I, I, oh!”

“Nen’s right, Gab, we get to see it in Stern, you get to be in it,” Steff stated.

“But?”

“Hey, we could go up and watch,” Con suggested.

“That’s all I need, all my friends gawping at me.”

“Oh come on, Gab, how many chances do we get to see a society wedding?”

“It’s hardly society, Analise works for the Post and I’m sure this Joachim chap has a job, we aren’t talking landed gentry, are we?”

“So any old post clerk gets hitched in Bonn cathedral do they?” Bridget offered.

Hmm, Brid, I still owe you one for my bald forehead!

“I don’t see why not.”

That got several sets of rolling eyes.

“I wouldn’t mind getting married there,” Con stated.

“Ahrweiler will do for me, much more atmospheric,” Pia opined.

“Well I still think it’s all a bit much.”

“Where are you and Max getting hitched?” Nena enquired with a grin.

“That is so not happening!”

“It’s a broken record,” Con mentioned.
 
 

“Where’s Amanda, I thought she’d be here.” Steff queried.

It was a slightly sore point.

“Dad’s taken her and Roni to the Radstadion to train.”

“No rest for the Radrennen,” Brid told us, “ride, ride, ride.”

I want to ride!

“I was supposed to do a cross tomorrow.”

“You really have a one track mind, Gabrielle Bond.”

“Max, Max and more Max,” Pia teased.

“We’re just friends,” I stated through gritted teeth.

 
 
“We going to the Cosplay thing in Koblenz?” Connie asked.

“When is it?”

“Hang on, I got a flyer,” she dug in her bag and pulled out a slightly crumpled bit of blue paper, “erm first weekend of January.”

“I’ll have to check, I might be racing,” I suggested.

“For two days, Gabs?” Steff questioned.

“Probably not,” I agreed, “I’ll check with Dad.”

“Whatever her majesty is doing the rest of us can go anyway,” Pia stated.

“Maybe she’d be more interested if Max was going,” Brid put in with a smirk.

 
 
“How’d it go?”

“Better than Wednesday, Roni is a bit lacking in skills but she goes like a rocket!” Mand enthused.

The girls left just after four leaving me to help Mum with the ironing for the rest of the afternoon. It’s Devil’s work, ironing – I bet it was a man who invented it, no sane woman would! Dad and Amanda got back home just after six.

“What you been up to, Gab?”

“Oh you know, coffee and gossip with the girls, big pile of ironing and getting dinner going.”

Sheesh I sound like some middle-aged hausfrau!

“If I’d known I had some ironing to do.”

I gave her the look.

“I probably should practice.”

 
 
“That’s nice, “Dad told me when I mentioned the Polterabend, I thought I might get some sympathy there.

“Have I got anything in the diary in January? There’s a con down in Koblenz.”

“At the moment there’s nothing certain, have to see how you recover eh?”

Great, one little setback and everything is out of the window.

“Fine,” I sighed.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Sausage casserole,” I advised.

“You’ll make someone a great wife.”

Oh right, just what I wanted to hear from my Dad, what is it with people and weddings today?

 
 
Maddy Bell 12.01.16