Gaby Book 17 - Seasons

 
“So what is it this week, Gab?” Herr Thesing enquired.
“Thought we’d try chicken?”
“Okay, just change the meat like last week then?”

With everything going on last week our pie was mince, the meat variety.

“I guess you could do it in gravy but it’s better in a white sauce.”
“You’re the expert."

He has at least mastered the pastry so I only have to run through making the fillings.

“So how are they selling?”
“Steady I would say, we didn’t have to throw any away at least. There were more as lunches this week, they aren’t the easiest things to eat on the go are they?”
“No,” I had to agree, eating a hot pie on the go can be quite messy, “we could try sausage rolls or pasty’s.”
“A Bratwurst in pastry?”
“Well not usually but I guess it’d work in theory, it’s different pastry though, I'll make some at home to try.”

By now the sauce for the pies was nearly ready – it’s quite simple, Therese has already done the chicken so once this is ready we’re good to go.

“Didn’t see you baking, Gab,” Mand offered, “what’s in them?”
“Chicken,” I supplied as I spooned mash onto the plates.

Well it was a bit of a cheat I know but I'm short of time on Fridays at the moment, what with making pies, dinner then Gardetanz.

“As you’re here, can you take those two through please.”
“Anyone’s?”
“They’re all the same,” well mine has got extra carrots but otherwise.

“Not bad,” Mum allowed, “you’ll make someone a great wife one day.”
“Mu-um,” I complained, you’d think I was interested in that sort of thing.
“Your pastry’s improved.”
“She does do a lot of cooking,” Dad mentioned.
“And what’s that meant to mean, Dave Bond?” she snapped.
“Nothing, luv, just saying, she gets plenty of practice that's all.”

Not sure Mum was exactly mollified, maybe she was feeling a bit guilty.

“Wish I was half as good,” Mand added oblivious to the under currents.
“Er, ice cream anyone?”

We went into the wheel, exaggeratedly high kicking as we turned, the music built to a finale, each of us dropping in turn into the splits as the tunes ran out.

“Excellent, ladies!” Hannah told us.

I sometimes wonder what’s harder, riding around the countryside for three or four hours or one of these Garde training sessions. It’s certainly a good workout and keeps you flexible, I bet Mand can’t get her legs to the vertical. Okay, it’s a weird ability but there’s only a few in the troupe who can manage it without support.

“Before you go, the new uniforms are on the table in the office, they’ve got names on – take them and try them on before next week so we can sort out any problems before Trier.”

At least I won’t be wearing one of those any time soon!

“I've entered the cheer in a competition up near Bonn,” our coach told me as I changed from dance shoes to trainers ready to go home.
“When’s that?”
“Three weeks I think, I'll give everyone the details on Monday.”
“Okay, the race season’s getting quite busy so you might be short of Mand.”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we need to.”
“Dad’s waiting, Gab!” Pia called across the hall.
“Have to go, see you Monday, tschussie!”

I grabbed by bag and set off for the exit.

“Gab!” Han called after me.
I turned but continued walking backwards towards the door, “Wassup?”
“You haven’t got your Garde uniform.”
“I haven’t got one,” I mentioned halting my progress.
“Wait there, I'll fetch it,” Hannah instructed.

“Sorry, Mr S,” I offered getting into the battered bus.
“You’re fine, Gaby.”
“Don’t know why I need a uniform,” I grumped towards Pia.
“You are a member of the Garde.”
“Yeah but I don’t do the shows or anything do I?”
“Doesn’t mean you escape the uniform,” she chuckled.

I did my best to stuff the uniform into my bag – it was never going to fit but I just felt compelled to try.

“What time are you back from the bakery?” Dad asked as I put my hair into a braid for work.
“Should be here by quarter past twelve.”
“Please be sharp, kiddo, we’re meeting Caro and the girls at two and we’re in the bus remember.”
“I'll be here,” I predicted.

It’s going to be a bit of a crush, besides us, Dad is fetching the Grönberg's in the morning and Josh and Tali are being brought down by his uncle, all eight of us then drive down to meet Caro, the Luchow’s are meeting us at the hotel down in the Schwarzwald somewhere. It’s not just bodies, there’s the bikes, kit bags, turbo’s, ezy up – well a lot of stuff.

“Mum was impressed with the pies,” I informed Tomas, Herr Thesing, as I started filling the cabinet with our wares.
“Well that’s a positive.”
“She thought I'd made them at home.”
“Ah, that’s the edge we need, pies like Oma makes!”
“Well maybe mine but no one round here,” I pointed out.
“Okay, pies like Gaby’s Oma makes,” he chuckled.

Well he thought it was funny.

“I need to be away sharp today, we’re going down to the Schwarzwald this afternoon.”
“You do get about with your racing, Gaby, France last week, Hamburg wasn’t it before?”
“Yeah Hamburg, you get used to the travelling, Mum’s in Holland and Belgium this week, she’s hardly ever home in the season.”
“You know you can talk to me if you need to,” Therese mentioned, bringing another tray of sandwiches out to me.
“Um thanks.”
“It can’t be easy with just your Dad most of the time.”
“We get by,” I allowed.

To be honest, it’s been this way so long now that I can’t really remember what ‘normal’ is like. The Bond household is hardly ‘normal’ at the best of times, what with the bikes, a string of long term ‘guests’ and both my parents unusual employment. I never really considered how more traditional households might regard us or whether I'm missing anything by being part of our more avant garde arrangement.

“Thought you were getting rid of the pink,” Josh mentioned as Dad pointed the bus towards the autobahn.
“Decided to keep it for a bit,” I allowed – yeah a bit like months!
“Leave her be, J,” Tali told him, “I think it’s cool, Gab.”
“Er cheers.”

The trailer behind bounced over a curb, which made enough noise to frighten everyone on board.

“Daa-ad, trailer?”
“Sorry guys,” Dad told us.
“I wonder who’ll be with Caroline?” Josh mused.
“Guess we’ll find out soon enough,” I submitted.
“We are going to be mob handed tomorrow,” Ron noted, “seven of us riding for Apollinaris.”
“Why don’t these girls ride for Britain instead of ‘Pollinaris?” Tali queried.
“Dad said it’s so they are in a team and don’t stand out, less pressure sort of thing.”
“I'd be scared stiff of turning up in a GB shirt at one of these events, everyone would expect me to be good,” Mand told us.
“So it’s alright for me and Josh?”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I think Amanda’s right, whenever we race for the federation we become targets.” Tali stated.
“And like wearing an Apollinaris jersey makes you less of a target like?” Josh suggested.
“Good point, liebchen,” Tali agreed before giving the Toon some some tonsil hockey practice.
“Guys!” Ron complained.

Despite the trailer we made good time and after passing Frankfurt Airport we were soon pulling off to rendezvous with the BC contingent. They must’ve had a great night’s sleep, you could hear the planes almost continually overhead. It really was just pulling off the motorway, their hotel was only like two hundred metres from the Morfelden junction.
Caro was at the door before Dad had the handbrake on.

“Hi guys, we weren’t sure how long you’d be so the girls are inside having coffee.”
“Wouldn’t mind a cup me’sen like,” Joe stated.
“We’ve time,” Dad agreed.
“Yes!” I allowed, everyone else might’ve had lunch but all I've managed was a slice of greasy cardboard pizza that I consumed on the way home from work.

We filed off the bus and made our way into the Holiday Inn’s bar cum restaurant.

“Laura!” Mand exclaimed.
“Hi, Mand,” Laura beamed back.
“Kristen?” I enquired of the other girl.
“Kris, you remember Josh from last year?” Caro suggested.
“How could I forget, hi Josh.”
“Good to see ya like.”
“Let’s see if I can remember who this lot are,” Caro went on, “the one talking to Laura is Amanda who’s apprenticed to Apollinaris, then we’ve got, Talia? Roni and the little un with pink hair is Gabrielle.”
“Just Tali, um hi.”
“You all speak English?”
“Of course,” Ron confirmed.
“Some of us are crap at German like,” Josh offered.
“But you’re getting better, liebchen,” Tali told him.
“I think I should know you, Gabrielle,” Kirsten noted.
“Erm, we raced together a few times the other year,” I mentioned.
“You’re English?”
“Course she is,” Josh interjected, “you must remember Bond.”
“Bond? As in Gaby Bond from the telly and stuff?”
“Telly?” I in turn queried.
“She means the Sportsman of the Year thing,” Laura put in, “like the hair, Gab.”
“You didn’t have the er, pink hair then,” Kirsten observed.
“All new this week,” Mand told her.

Maddy Bell © 28.10.16