Gaby Book 16 - Sweet Sixteen

 
 
“So let me get this right, if Mart is the ‘father’ they can’t take her away?”
“She’d have dual nationality so it would be more difficult and we lived here we’d be safe.”
“Wow,” I managed; you’ve really thought this through. What does Mart think about this? He does know doesn’t he?”
Bern looked a bit sheepish, “Not yet.”
“Bern, you have to tell him.”
“I will, I’m going to.”
“When?” I pressed.
“Before we go home, honest.”
“What if he says no?”
“He won’t.”
“But what if he does?”
“I’ll think of something.”
“Just don’t do anything rash Bern, for Drea’s sake.”
“Gab’s, you can’t tell a soul, promise?”
“Who’d I tell?”
“Promise?” Bern implored.
I mimed zipping my lips, before giving her a hug, “Promise.”
“We’d best go back down,” Bern suggested.
“I could do with another coffee.”

Having got the biggy out of the way, conversation returned to safer subjects, the trip to Koblenz on Saturday, and Gloria’s visit midweek. It only occurred to me just before we left that we’d actually been talking in German most of the evening, Bern’s definitely been practising. For me, well I use German most of the time, even at home only flipping to English when Mand’s about.

We picked Mand up on the way home; she’d still gone to cheerleading, I think she enjoys it more than she lets on.

“How’d it go?”
“Go?”
“You okay with Bernie now?” she clarified.
“Er yeah, fine,” I allowed, “what about cheer? You cope without me?”
“Only just, we spent a lot of time going over the sets, I think Margot was quite pleased.”
“I’ll be there next week,” I mentioned.

Dad insisted on taking me to school Tuesday morning although he did bring the Schauff down, I’ll be riding home at least. We were early enough that my bike was stowed before the others arrived, I waited for them inside – cold is not my friend!

“Hey, Gab, you okay,” Max enquired spotting me sat on the stairs.
“Yeah fine.”
He joined me on the step, “Con said you got hypothermia?”
“Uh huh, went out without a coat.”
“You need to take better care of yourself, Gab, you could’ve got pneumonia or something.”

Something, I glanced at my be-gloved hands, yeah something.
When he put his arm around me, I couldn’t help myself, I shuffled closer and leant my head on his shoulder. So of course that’s how the girls found us a couple of minutes later.

“Get a room you two,” Brid suggested.
I sprung away from Max.
“We weren’t doing anything.” Well maybe Max did have his face in my hair.

“So what’s with the gloves?” Pia enquired at lunch.
“Doctors orders,” I allowed before spooning more Gulasch into my cakehole.
“They’re not that bad are they?” Nena queried.
“Show us, Gab,” Steff pressed.
“There’s nothing to see.”
“Ga-ab?” Con complained.
“Whatever,” I put my spoon down and pulled off the thin thermal gloves I’ve had on all day.
“What were you thinking, Gab?” Steff asked inspecting my discoloured digits.
Wish I knew myself.
“Dunno, it wasn’t exactly planned.”
I pulled the gloves back on.
“When your dad came we didn’t know what to think,” Con stated, “you had everyone really worried you know.”
“Sorry.”

I was wrapped up like an Eskimo for the ride home, it wasn’t as cold as the weekend but even so I was feeling quite chilled when I got home. The quick solution was a shower that past experience has shown, works quite quickly.

“So you feeling okay, kiddo?” Dad asked when I re-emerged from the warming waters.
“Bit tingly still.”
“So you’ll be up for training then?”

Am I? I’m sure Dad wouldn’t press it but if I say no, what does that say about me? About my commitment and ambition? It’s easy to not do stuff, training when you aren’t 100% committed, well you might as well read a book. I do want, no need, to succeed, I need to validate who I am and that means going the extra mile so to speak.

“There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

The look he gave me questioned that but he didn’t voice any concerns he might have, “I’ll get your bike set up then.”

“Aaand end!”
I flopped over the bars absolutely mashed.
“Don’t stop, proper cool down,” Dad instructed, “you too, Manda, good session both of you.”

I hadn’t, well neither did Mand have anything to answer with. It was the same session we did last week but I had given it my all, Mand doing her best to match my efforts. My abused digits weren’t too much of an issue although holding the bars towards the end wasn’t so good.

“I was on with BC earlier,” Dad advised as we did our warm down, “you’ll be going to Manchester at half term for your evaluations.”
“All week?” I got out.
“Just a couple of days, you’ll be at the velodrome Monday and Tuesday back Wednesday.”
“You coming?”
“Just your mother, seems she’s still of interest to them.”
“I should hope so,” Mand interjected.
“They’ve been a bit fickle in the past.” Dad noted, “You’ll stay at your Gran’s.”
“Great!” I enthused.
“Right then, finish up, we’re going to the Pinger’s for dinner, front and centre thirty minutes.”

Slave driver.

A second shower, well you didn’t think I’d just dress and go did you? Well anyway I dressed quickly and even had time to text Bern before meeting at the assembly point.

“Ready?” Dad asked slipping his own coat on.
“Hungry,” I suggested.
“Times two,” Mand added.
“In that case, we’d best make a move.”

It’s been a while since we’ve been down to the Pinger’s place to eat – well relatively; I guess it wasn’t much before Chrimbo in actual fact. Hen’s barbeques are legend within the team but January is hardly the season for outdoor cooking so I was more than a little surprised to see smoke coming from the back of their house. Given that is was more curious was the fact we went into the house rather than the garden.

“Hey guys,” Kat greeted.
“Hi Kat, we having a barbeque?”
“In January? Don’t be so daft, Gab.”
“Well there’s smoke out there,” I mentioned.
“Tell me about it, Dad’s latest project, we’re christening it today.”
I raised an eyebrow in question.
“Oh right, it’s a pizza oven, why we can’t just order from San Marco’s I don’t know.”
“This I have to see, coming, Mand?”
“Think I’ll give it a miss.”
I went through to the kitchen where Mum and Maria were both already on the vino – so much for bodies being temples.
“Your dad’s already out there and do that coat up.”
“Yes, Mum,” like I wouldn’t.

The reason for all the smoke became evident once I reached the outdoor kitchen, the oven is pretty big and wood fired – that’s supposed to be good for pizza.

“Hi, Gaby.”
“Hi, Henryck, it’s a bit smoky isn’t it?”
“It’ll soon clear, just needs priming.”
“Mum won’t let you have one, Dad,” I mentioned as he fed some sticks into the flames.
It certainly wasn’t something bought in Obi , Hen must’ve built this himself.
“So like, how does it work then?”
“It’s essentially like a Roman bread oven,” Dad started, “you heat the oven with the fire so you get sufficient hot coals. Then you rake them to the sides, put the bread in the middle, close the door and it bakes it.”
“Right,” I’d had visions of balancing the pizza over blazing flames.
“So you can cook other stuff too?”
“It’ll be a boon in the summer, Gabs,” Henryck enthused, “fresh bread, stuffed peppers, quiche.”
“Couldn’t you just use the oven indoors?”
“Not the same, you don’t get the smokiness in the flavour eh, Dave?”
“It does add a certain authenticity,” Dad agreed, “I think it’s nearly ready Hen, the smoke’s dying down.”
“Can you ask Maria to get the food ready, Gaby, then we’ll test this baby out!”

“So how’s it going?” Maria enquired when I returned to the kitchen.
“About ready to go apparently, they’re ready for the food.”
“Good job it’s ready then.”

The food, as advertised, was pizza, home made although I think the bases might’ve been from the deli. There were four of them, about thirty centimetres, liberally covered in meat, cheese and vegetable matter. I picked up the nearest and headed into the gloom outside.

We weren’t eating outside – which was just as well considering the dropping temperature, rather Mum and Maria had put together a sort of winter salad selection – some green leaves, Rotkohl and Kartoffel salat on the dining table. The oven was big enough for two pizzas at a time so we started on the first arrivals whilst the second batch were cooking. Hmm, maybe they could do with a bit longer, the bases were a little doughy but they were definitely morish!

There certainly wasn’t much of anything left to waste when we’d had our fill, I got a slice of all four pizzas – well you have to check them. Kat made hot chocolate to go with the mud pie thing Maria had cooked more traditionally indoors. I forced myself to eat a slice but to be honest I was stuffed.

“So Hen, we know where to come for pizza in future,” Mum opined, sipping wine again.
“Don’t encourage him, Jen,” Maria chastised.
“A man needs hobbies eh, Dave?”
“It’s what keeps us sane,” Dad replied with a grin.

I don’t think Dad gets a lot of time for his hobbies these days, we moan when he wants to look at a castle or something. We aren’t very fair to him really, he has to put up with everyone else’s pastimes but it’s a bit one-way. With threats of school attendance tomorrow we headed home a bit after nine, I’m sure Mum was a bit tipsy.

Maddy Bell 31.05.16