"What’s this?” I enquired, looking at the unmarked video cassette Dad handed to me.
"Put it in and see,” he suggested.
To be honest, after work and an intense training ride the last thing I wanted was to watch one of Dad’s seemingly endless supply of cycling tapes.
"Whatever.”
"What we watching?” Mand asked dropping onto the sofa before curling her legs up under her.
"Dunno, someone’s not saying,” I offered pausing to start the machine before joining her on the couch.
The machine clunked and whirred before the screen filled with a rolling image before sound kicked in and things settled.
"Over to the Ahrtal where we join Gertie.”
"Hello Michael and welcome to Altenahr where we join some special guests for the opening of a new snack bar.”
"Hey that’s me!” Mand stated.
And indeed there we all were, the Bond household, Thesing’s, Tom and the other assorted guests. Somehow the cameraman gave it that look, you know, sort of bucolic, perfect world, not quite soft focus but most definitely idealistic.
"The sign looks good,” Dad mentioned.
"Er yeah,” I agreed.
We sat through Gertie talking with Mum and Tom, the opening of course and eating currywurst.
"And here’s the young lady responsible, sixteen year old Gaby Bond, hello again, Gaby.”
"Hello, Gertie,” I grinned from the screen – talk about cringe worthy!
The ‘interview’ continued, did I really say that? Oh my god, I sound like a right bimbo, my voice isn’t really that squeaky is it?
"Well good luck, Gaby.”
"Thanks, Gertie,” I grinned.
The shot cut back to Gertie, "Back to you in the studio, Michael,”
"It looks like you’re having a good time, Gertie?”
"I am, they are so welcoming here in the Ahrtal, I think I'll get some more of that delicious currywurst!”
"Well someone’s having fun in the sun, so, Sema, what’s in store for us weather wise tomorrow?”
"You can turn it off now,” Dad suggested.

 
The only change on Wednesday was the swap of start times and Thursday was almost a carbon copy of Tuesday – even to Dad giving me a ride up. As the days have gone by we’ve fallen into more of a routine, we even seem to have a couple of regular customers. Friday however was already shaping up to be different.

"Chuck us the bin keys,” I requested at the window.
"They’re not due yet,” Con mentioned.
"I know, want to park my bike in there.”
"What for?”
"I'm on my training bike.”

It was only then that my BF actually raised her nose from her magazine to see me stood in my cycling togs.

"You have brought something else to wear?”
"Duh!” I dropped my rucky onto the serving ledge, “Keys?”
"Er right, hang on.”

 
"So why the racing bike?” Con asked a few minutes later as I changed in the stock room.
"Well,” I started, tugging my t shirt into place, "I was a bit late and the Schauff isn’t exactly made for speed.”
"Never usually bothers you.”

To be honest the real punch had been a near repeat of Tuesday’s tunnel descent incident yesterday afternoon. My mind had been on getting home quickly as I was a bit late leaving and I ended up making an emergency detour across the Tanzklub car park, ending up outside the Freiwillig Fire station next door. Definitely a brown knicker moment.

"Yeah, well I thought it would be more practical anyhow.”
"I guess it is a haul up to the tunnel,” she allowed.
"Stick us a Milchkaffee on,” I requested, it would keep her occupied while I swapped bibs for knickers and the shorts I'd brought up.

I hung my cycling gear up, slipped into my trainers and joined Con in the ‘kitchen’.

"So what’s new?”

 
"Thanks,” I allowed taking the returning crockery from the last of Dutch trekkers.
It’s not as sunny today, it is quite warm but instead of blue sky there’s a covering of grey cloud, just occasional breaks allowing the sun’s full power to reach the ground. Not that it’s put off the visitors, I guess if you are on holiday you make do anyhow, even if it’s wet.

The lawnmower like putt, putt of a Mofa sounded nearby before making a last revving noise and stopping, hmm have to get my permit – now that really would be good for getting to work. I headed into the back with the crockery, there's probably a load by now.

"Gab here, Con?”
"Gab!” Con yelled.
"You don’t have to shout,” I told her as I returned from the dishwasher, "Oh, Max, what do you want?”
“Frikadel?”
"With pommes?”
"Er best not, you got any Coke®?”

I set to with the order, deftly slicing the Brötchen open as the patty warmed.

"There you go, three fifty.”
"Don’t be daft, Gab,” Con interrupted, "On the house, Max,” she stated handing him a bottle of Coke®.
"Er thanks,” Max offered, "You got time to talk, Gab?”
"Go on, Gab,” Con instructed,” Kris’ll be here in a mo.”
"A, a, a.”
"Here,” she pushed a bottle of pop into my hand and hustled me towards the door.
"Con,” I complained.
"Go!” she insisted.

 
What’s a girl to do? With a shrug I walked around the building and joined Max at one of the tables.

"Hmm, ‘ood ‘ikadel.”
"You don’t have to spray it.”
He wiped his mouth, "Sorry.”
"So what do you want?”

He was already munching again so I took a slug of lemonade while I waited.

"You doing anything tomorrow?”
"Apart from working here all day like?”
"In the evening,” he refined.
"Recovering?” I suggested.
"Oh,” he deflated a little, “Mum wondered if you’d come to dinner?”
"Your mum or you?”
"Er,” he managed with a bit of a blush.
"It’s not anyone’s birthday or anything?”

Last time we got an invite it turned out to be his Gran’s birthday which was a right barrel of laughs – not.

"Nothing like that,” he quickly shot back, “just thought you might like a relaxing evening, you’ve had quite a busy week with the opening and stuff.”
"Your Gran gonna be there?”
"No you’re safe, she’s down in Rothenburg with my aunt this week.”
I let out a small sigh, "What time?”
"Seven?” he suggested with something of a grin.
"Seven it is, look, I should get back to work.”

 
"So?” Con prompted when I returned to the kiosk.
"What?”
"Duh!” she indicated the youth sat outside.
"What?” I repeated.
"Well what did he want?”
"What makes you think he wanted anything?”
"Gab, it’s me,” she stated, "So spill.”
"Oo, gossip?” Kris put in having sorted out the bin emptying.
"Someone's boyfriend is outside,” Con mentioned.
"He’s not my boyfriend,” I stated through gritted teeth.
"So come on, missy, what did he want?”
"We need to know,” Kris added.

That’s all I need, two of them haranguing me.

 
"Coffee please a-and that lemon?” Hen enquired pointing into the cake cabinet.
"Uh huh,” I agreed.
"Yeah a slice of that please.”
"No work today?”
"Day off, thought I'd try getting some sponsors for the RTF.”

Kris brought the coffee over almost as I finished plating the torte.

"Any luck?”
"The bank are sponsoring the numbers and signs and we’re getting a discount from the Lidl down in Neuenahr.”
"Sounds good.”
"Well it’s a start, still looking for food stops, one of the regulars has pulled out and another has closed so we need a couple of new ones.”
"Bummer.”
"Yeah,” he agreed.
"So where’s this thing go?”
"The long one goes across to Gerolstein then there’s a short one to Műnstereifel and the mid one misses the long Gerolstein loop.”
"Hard core, sounds like one of the seniors training rides. So like how many ride?”
"We had about two hundred last year.”
"That’s quite a few.”

Small beer compared to that one we rode over at Gret’s, there were like thousands there, what was it again? Spree something, Spreewald, that's it. Mind you, that was almost dead flat.

"We can cope with a few more but you have to have parking and stuff which can restrict things.”
"So where do you need these feed things?”
"Ones over in Blankenburg, the other one’s like the HQ, we used to use Der Mühle just on the Munster road.”
"That place that burnt down?”
"Yeah.”
"How about here? there’s loads of parking over the road.”
"You serious?”
“’Course.”
"I'll need to talk to the rest of the committee, but that’d be brilliant if you could.”
“Let us know what you need.”
"Will do.”

 
"What’ve you been plotting?” Con asked.
"Nothing, well not really.”
"Gab!”
"Well I sort of volunteered us to be a checkpoint thingy for the Weilersport’s RTF.”
"Their what?”
"Well it’s a sort of long day ride thing, like two hundred K, they go round a route collecting stamps on a card and get a certificate for finishing.”
"I'll let you break it to Dad.”

Sugar, me and my big mouth.

 
Maddy Bell © 27.03.17