*Chapter 23*
Mistakes

"Gabs?”
I couldn’t quite place the voice so answered cautiously, "Yes, it is she, who is this?”
"It’s Mart.”
Dur, course it is, "Soz, its been a long day, been at the Radtourfahrten all day.”
"Ah so that’s why there were bikes everywhere.”
"That’ll be it, so what’s up?”
"You know Bern’s coming tomorrow?”
"I'm pretty sure she’s mentioned it.”
"Well mum wondered if you’d like to come to pick her up with us.”
"From the airport?”
"Airport? No they’re coming by bus, its cheaper and less hassle with Drea, we’re picking them up from Kӧln.”
Well I'm not racing so I'm about, "What time we talking?”
"They’re supposed to get in about nine.”
"In the morning?”
"That’s okay, I've got half the valley coming for dinner tomorrow afternoon so as long as I'm back by about one I'm in.”
"Cool, pick you up half seven?”
Urgh, another early start, I might get a lie in one of these days.
"Yeah sure.”
"See you in the morning then, Abend,”
"Yeah, tschuss.”

 
"Everything okay Spud?”
"I guess, Mart just rang, I'm going up to Kӧln with him in the morning to meet Bernie.”
"I thought you were going for a ride?”
"Sugar, I knew there was something I forgot, I'll ring back and say I can’t go.”
"You’ll do no such thing,” Dad stated, "It won’t hurt you to miss one days riding.”

Yes! I mentally pumped my arm in victory – not an actual victory but you know what I mean.

"So what time are you out? Do you need me to do anything for dinner?”
"They’re picking me up at seven thirty, you could do the taters,” I hinted.
"Okay, do we need the dining table out?”
"The lovebirds coming?”
"I take it you mean your sister, she said so.”
"Might be a good idea then, it’ll be a squeeze getting eight round it closed.”
"Okay, you wanting to watch this?”
"Yeah, likely,” I snorted, you’ve seen German TV right? in case you haven’t, its pretty dire and Saturday night’s are the worst even if de Vreen does like it, terrible game shows and poorly dubbed American cop shows. "Think I'll get an early night.”

 
Beep, beep!

"That’s me,” I told Dad before leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.
"See you later kiddo.”

I grabbed my bag and skipped down to where Mart and his mum were waiting in their ageing people carrier.

"Morning!”
"Hi Gaby,” Erika Preiser offered.

I clambered up into the cabin and turned to slide the door shut.

"You got enough space there?”
"Er think so,” I allowed perching myself next to the baby seat taking up half the middle row of seats. It took a moment to locate my seat belt by which time Erika had us in motion.

 
"There’s a good girl,” Bern told the bundle snoozing in the sling on her mothers chest.

Outside of the window it was lashing down across the Belgian, or is German now, countryside, a grey dawn to a forecast grey day. The woman sitting next to her shuffled in her seat, yeah maybe not the most comfortable journey but it had cost less than half the airfare without all that caper with airports. Bern pulled her cushion up so she could lean against the window without being vibrated to bits.

‘I hope there’s toilets at the coach station, Drea’ll need changing too – and feeding.' Bern mused as she watched the barely changing scenery outside.

Traffic had been light pretty much since leaving Calais – well when she’d been awake at any rate. Drea had fussed a bit when they’d stopped at Lille, then again at Brussels where the current occupant of the aisle seat replaced the eight year old girl who’d been there since London. It was a long stop there, over an hour as coaches arrived from and departed to destinations across Europe.

The baby had finally settled into a deeper sleep as they’d departed the city and apart from a few minutes when the coach stopped at Liege she’d been asleep until a couple of minutes ago. A change in engine tune suggested they were slowing down for some reason, they swung around a junction then moments later stopped at some traffic lights. They turned right into some woodland, two more sets of lights later and she recognised where they were, Kӧln river front.

Drea smacked her lips, it wouldn’t be long before she was demanding food, Bern looked at the coach’s clock, seven fifty three, they weren’t due until nine. At eight o'clock on a Sunday morning the traffic was light and the remaining distance into the centre took barely five minutes, through a tunnel and left at the lights. Suddenly the whole bus came alive just as if an alarm had sounded.

“Kӧln, Cologne, KeлъН!”

By the time they’d swung into the bus station half the coach were stood, dragging jackets and bags from the luggage racks. She waited until the press of humanity eased off before sliding out herself, gathering her belongings and following the other passengers off the bus. The driver was pulling bags out of the lockers on one side, his mate the other, she spotted her case already on the platform but where’s the pram?

"Er excuse me?”

The driver was either purposely ignoring her or hadn’t heard.

She searched her memory for the German, "Enschuldigen mir, haben sie mein Kinderwagen bitte?”
"Moment,” the driver chap replied in a somewhat short manner.
"English?” a tall chap in tan slacks and a black leather jacket asked.
"Er yes,” Bern allowed, wary of his interest.
"Thought so, you are after your case?”
"The pram, he doesn’t seem very interested.”
"Just a moment,” he poked his head into the locker and started complaining in some foreign language she didn’t recognise. There was a bit of back and forth but then Drea’s pram appeared and the stranger was putting it up.
"Er thanks.”
"No problem, you just need to know how to handle these Hungarians.”
"No wonder my German didn’t work.”
"Hmm,” he allowed as the pram locked into its upright position, “there we go, your German, it is maybe not so easy to understand. You are on the holiday?”
Bern was feeling a bit fearful and isolated, "Visiting my fiancé, he should be here anytime.”
"Well enjoy your visit.” and with that she was alone with a case, pram and daughter collecting damp in an almost deserted Kӧln bus station.

She pushed the pram with its load of their suitcase into the railway station, suddenly she recognised things, she’d been here with Gab last year, now where are the lavs?

 
"Bitte?”
"Er Mc Muffin® Sosidge unt Eir.”
“Pommes Frites?”
"Er ja, mittel.”
"Getranke?”
"Um Café bitte.”
"Vier fünfzig.”

Bern passed over a ten euro note, she’d check how much it actually was later. Her breakfast arrived in short order, she claimed a table by the window and sagged into the seat – so far so good. Drea of course chose that moment to fully wake and start fretting for her own breakfast.

At least Maccy D’s have microwaves for heating baby food, or in Bern’s case the last bottle of expressed milk she’d brought. She might have been breastfeeding for almost a year but even so she wasn’t comfortable doing so in public. Of course the baby lost interest halfway through her milk allowing her mother to eat the now stone cold chips and breakfast burger – at least the coffee was still scalding hot.

 
Erika seemed to know where she was going when we reached Kӧln, as I usually come by train I was lost almost as soon as we left the waterfront.

"I'll wait here,” Frau Preiser told us once we were parked.
"Okay mum,” Mart agreed, "We’re a bit early so we’ll be like half an hour.”

I climbed down and straightened myself out a bit, somehow these pink Capri’s always ride up.

"You alright Mart?” I queried as we made our way out of the car park.
"Sure, course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”
"Meeting your ‘family’ again Daddy,” I joshed.
"To be honest Gab, I'm not sure what I feel, all this stuff with the baby in England, its just all a bit you know,” he shrugged.
"Weird?” I suggested.
"Yeah,” he allowed as we emerged onto the street below the Gallery and Museum on Roncalliplatz.
"How do you think Bern feels,” I posed as we strolled across towards the Dom.
"Dunno,” he admitted.
"I bet she’s feeling pretty much the same, she’s committing pretty much everything on you and her, well you know.”
"I know but I can’t help feeling I've been manoeuvred.”
I grabbed his hands, "Mart, she loves you, not like me and Max, that's just lust.”
"I thought you and Max weren’t?”
"Well we sort of are,” I told him, "But its not the same as you and Bern.”
"Do I want to know?”
"You’ll find out in time, come on, lets find your girls,” I grinned dragging him down the steps towards the Hauptbahnhof.

There were quite a few people about in the station I hung onto his arm so we didn’t get separated when we were engulfed by a crowd of Girl Guides and their camping gear.

"That looks like it,” I suggested as we crossed over towards the bus station, a coach with ‘Eurolines’ across the windscreen being stood on a stand.

 
‘They look happy,’ Bern mused as she watched the passing travellers. The pair in question, a tall blonde lad and a petite girl with a thing for pink, well she was wearing pink trousers and her hair was a slightly paler shade, were joking about and clearly comfortable with each other, she gripping his arm firmly as they crossed towards the coach station.

"Daddy’ll be here soon pumpkin,” she told the now sleeping contents of the pram, "Come on Mart, where are you?”

 
It was indeed the London coach now loading for its onward journey to Frankfurt, of Bern there was no sign.

"I'll ask the driver,” Mart proposed.
“’Kay.”

He headed over to who I guessed was part of the crew and started a conversation. There was a bit of gesticulating and shrugging then Mart came back to where I waited.

"They got here at eight o’clock.”
"Eight? That's nearly an hour ago, does he know where Bern is?”
"Nada, he thinks they went into the Bahnhof.”
"Guess that makes sense, I bet she hasn’t got her phone either, come on, lets see if we can find her, she must be there somewhere.”

We headed back to the railway station.

 
‘She looks a bit like Gab,” Bern mused as the couple headed back towards her, the lad was looking down at his girlfriend, ‘well if you discount the pink hair and it looks like something glittering in her nose – its a wonder Gab even wears anything other than cargo shorts.’ The girl skipped towards her dragging the youth forward.

Marty and Gabs, together. Bern’s heart sank, she’d got the vibe from Mart there was something up, she’d never have guessed that something was her best friend, a best friend she hardly recognised.

 
Maddy Bell © 17.05.17