"See you tomorrow,” Kris called over.
"Yeah, nite, Kris.”

I checked the lock again before swinging a leg over the bike. A quick adjustment of the rucky straps and I was ready. I clicked my left foot in before using the kiosk to balance against to fix the other foot to its pedal, quick check for traffic, show off hop off the curb then I was away across the bridge. I passed Kris along by the florist, whizzing through the narrow defile and onto the valley road.

I quickly gained speed, shooting through the tunnel and down towards the Tanzklub, no fear of excess speed this evening, both a better handling bike and confidence in the brakes keeping my speed higher. Yeah, this is it, how I like my riding, fast and twisty. The speed stayed high all the way down to Rech from where I pretty much freewheeled the last stretch back to the house.

"I'm home.”
"Lounge,” came Pater’s reply.
I dropped my bag by the stairs and poked my head into the sitting room, "Wotcha.”
"You not been to the kiosk?”
"Yeah,” I replied with some confusion, "Why?”
"Your bike gear?”
"Oh right, it’s quicker on the road bike, specially up into Altenahr.”
"You put it safe?”
"Locked in the bin thing.”
"Hmm.”

 
"Da-ad,” I wheedled as I waited for my lift up to Garde.
"What kiddo?”
"You know tomorrow night?”
"What about it?”
"Is it alright if I go out?”
"Out where? You are racing Sunday.”
"Up to Max’s, I'm invited for dinner.”
"No doubt you’ve already accepted?”
"I can easily cancel,” I offered.
"I guess it’s okay, no alcohol though.”
"No, Dad.”
"I mean it, Gaby, just because your friends drink doesn’t mean you should, especially when you’ve got a race.”
"Yes, Dad.”
The tinny sound of Hannah’s horn sounded outside, "See you later!”
"Ring if you need a lift.”

 
"So what’re you wearing?” Con enquired, stacking the contents of the dishwasher tray back on the shelves.
"Wearing?”
"Gab,” she warned.

What am I wearing? A question I've been giving quite some thought to since yesterday. I don’t want to go too formal but on the other hand too casual would be bad too – oh I know girls can get away with more than lads but even I have standards. No, it’ll have to be a frock of some sort, something that covers my ‘assets’ and doesn’t expose too much leg either.

"I dunno.”
"You must have some idea.”
"Not really.”
"You should go in that Goth gear, that’d surprise them,” she snorted.
"Not gonna happen, I wouldn’t get out of the house.”
"Guess not, what about your prom dress?”
"Might work,” I mused, mind you it’s a bit fussy for a ‘family’ dinner.
"Or how about the pink flowers?”
"Maybe,” yeah, a definite maybe.

I turned the sizzling würst.

"I wish I could twist Dad round like you can,” Con stated changing the subject.
"Eh?”
"The Rad thingy, if it’d been me he’d of said no but like he barely flinched when you told him.”
"You think?”
"I know.”
"Honestly, Con, I don’t think that’s true.”
"No, hear me out,” she persisted, "It’s not just dad, you’re just too cute to say no to.”
"I'm not cute!”
"Deny it all you like, girl, you are the epitome of cute, if someone was describing cute you would be it.”
"She’s right, boss lady,” Kris opined having returned from wiping down the garden furniture.
"Not you too,” I moaned.
"Hey, don’t knock it, I'd kill to be called cute.”
"You’re hardly ugly,” I pointed out.
"I've got a big nose and freckles, cute I'm not,” she persisted, "You on the other hand, I bet you never even had a spot.”
"Had one once,” I think.
"One,” she threw her hands skyward in exasperation, "I spend half my allowance on getting rid of the things.”
"Guess I'm just lucky,” I proposed.
"Cute!” they both chorused.

 
Saturday we’re only open until three, well most of the local shops close at one so there’s not really that many people about. Herr Thesing brought us up this morning but it’s the Express back down so after locking up we headed over to the bahnhof. Just in time as it happens, the level crossing alarm was sounding as we reached the old building to join the assorted holiday makers awaiting the down train.
Experience and a cheeky bit of manoeuvring got us a pair of seats.

“Phew, thought we’d be standing.”
"It’s the cute card,” Con stated.
"Will you give over with the cute stuff,” I grumped.
"Tickets, tickets from Altenahr,” Myleen’s voice requested from behind us.
We held out our passes, "Hi, Myleen.”
"Well if it’s not the valley’s cutest snack bar owners, long time no see.”
"Yeah, been busy,” Con noted.
"I'll have to pop in and see what all the fuss is about,” our conductor mentioned.
"Fuss?” I asked, curious despite myself.
"The talk of the passengers this week, the Imbiss by the bridge and the cute staff.”

Grrrr!

"Maybe you should wear one of those Moslem things so they can’t see you, Gab,” Con chuckled.
"Did I say something wrong?” Myleen asked.
"No,” Con replied, "We were discussing Gab’s cuteness earlier, of course she denies having any.”
"Which makes her even cuter!” Myleen proposed.
"I am here, guys,” I pointed out feeling myself start to colour up.
"Well I'd best do some work, none of the visitors know what they need.”
"Come and see us at the kiosk,” Con invited.
"I will, tschuss.”
"Tschuss!” we both replied.

 
"I take it you’ll want a lift later?” Dad enquired.
"Er please.”
"We’ll drop you off when we go then.”
"Go? We?”
"Well you don’t think I'm letting Mand cook do you?”
"No?” so okay, she’s not exactly cordon bleu but she makes mean toast.
"No, so we’re eating at the Stube, we can drop you off and pick you up after.”
Talk about cramping your style, "I don’t know when we’ll be done and I'm sure Gloria or Wilhelm will bring me home.” or even Max on his Mofa!
"We’ll see.”
 
"You still not ready?” Mand enquired from my doorway.
"I don’t know which one’ll be best,” I sighed looking at the pile of frocks on my bed.
So far I've changed six times and changed my mind each time, too long, too frumpy, too revealing.
"Let’s see,” she came all the way into the eyrie, "Okay, so date with the parents, so something for Max but nothing slutty for the ‘rents,” she went through the stack of stuff mumbling and discounting as she worked.

It’s not cold but stood there in just a skimpy set of lingerie I was starting to get goose bumps.

"Here!” Mand stated thrusting a hanger at me, "Hair up, dangly earrings, pair of heels, cute as ninepence.”
if I hear that word once more!

The dress was of course the first one I pulled out, the pink flowers that Con suggested earlier.
 

Dad dropped me outside of Schloss Rech, well the Hymer is hardly the most manoeuvrable of vehicles and the gateway isn’t exactly big. It was a bit of a sod climbing down in my heels and I felt a bit of a narna stood in down town Rech in a posh frock, hair up and my earrings swaying gently in the breeze. Oh well.

So anyway I tottered my way into the courtyard and followed the flat slabbed path around the edge to the door used by the family on a daily basis. I rang the bell and moments later the sounds of hurrying teenager could be heard approaching.

I stepped back as the door swung open, "Hi, Gab!”
"Er hi, Max.”
"Wow, you look well cute,” he enthused.
"If you use that word once more tonight we’re done,” I warned.
"Noted, you do look nice though.”
"Thanks,” I allowed, "You don’t look so grubby.”
Well he doesn’t, maybe a little overdressed for eating at home but definitely kissable.
"That Gaby?” a voice requested from up above.
"Yes, Mum,” Max called back up.
"I'll be down in a minute then we can go.”
"Go?”
"To the restaurant,” his face dropped, "You thought we were eating at home?”
"Er yeah, you sort of forgot to mention a restaurant.”
"It’s only our place,” he volunteered, "Dad’s doing you something special.”
"Right,” Gloria von Strechau, wearing a fifties inspired frock, started as she arrived from the upper levels of the Schloss, "Let’s pop over shall we?”
"Er for you,” I presented Max’s mum with the gift wrapped box, we always have a supply at home; it’s only polite to take something if you’re invited out for dinner after all.
"Thank you, Gaby, no doubt as delicious as you look tonight,” she beamed.
"Um, thanks.”
"Come on then, Max?”
"Mother,” he sighed, closing the door before offering an arm to each of us for the short walk back across the courtyard to the gatehouse, home to the Baron’s somewhat exclusive restaurant.

Maddy Bell © 28.03.17