“Er sorry Gab.”
“What for?”
“Last night, I was a bit er loose with the tongue,” P admitted.

That's one way of putting it.

“At least Dad didn’t hear everything.”
“Still, I should be more discreet.”

What do you say?

“Action girls!” Helmut called through saving me that task.

Well you know how it works, welcome drink, tour of the cellars then dinner in the restaurant, not a bad little excursion. As usual, once the visitors were out of the bar I got to look after the bus’s crew, this week, the blonde German girl and I think its Dennis. There’s definitely something off about Nena, not sure what mind, maybe her accent?

“Coffee?” I asked as they settled at the usual table.
“Er could I get Lemonade please Gaby, bit of a dicky stomach,” the driver asked.
“Sure, you want anything for it?”
“No, the lemonade will be fine.”
“Coffee for me,” Nena told me.
“Coming up.”

The guests filed back into the restaurant and found themselves seats, one of the women looked a bit familiar, not sure where from, maybe that Christmas trip that sparked this all off. I didn’t get the chance to get a better look as I only briefly served the other end of the main table. It was only on clear up that I saw the chap sat next to her, nah, couldn’t be, could it?

“You look thoughtful,” Inge mentioned as I deposited a pile of dishes for washing.
“Thought I recognised one of the passengers.”
“From before here?”
“Dunno, possibly.”
“Its possible, people come each year,” she allowed with a shrug.

I got a chance for a better look when the main course was served, it flippin’ well is.

“Worked it out yet Gab?” Inge queried.
“Worked what out?” Con asked from by my elbow.
“Gab thought she recognised one of the passengers.”
“They all look the same to me,” my BF chuckled.
“The pair next to the fat bloke, I’m sure its my old head master.”
“From before Silverberg?” Inge surmised.
“You could go and say hi,” Con suggested, “unless you were such a bad girl there.”
I ignored her addendum, “what if its not them?”
“Won’t know unless you try,” Con advised.
“Maybe after they’ve eaten.”

“Something up?” Nena enquired when I arrived to collect the crew’s plates.
“Not really, well I’m sure I know a couple of your passengers.”
“Happens to me all the time,” Dennis opined.
“Yeah but you’re going senile,” Nena ribbed her colleague in better English than I can manage. Strange indeed. “so which are they?” she asked twisting around to see the other diners.
“The couple next to the er big gentleman.”
“The Woods, Geoff and Brenda?” Nena told me.
“It is them!”
“How do you know them?”
“My Mum taught at the same school in England.” well I’m not admitting to being a pupil there.
“You should go and introduce yourself,” Dennis put forward.
“Er yeah, maybe, you want the Strudel or Eis?”

“Um, hi Mr Wood,” I offered along with his coffee.
“Do I,” the cogs turned, “Gaby?”
“Guilty as charged.”
“Bren,” he tugged at his wife's arm.
“What?” she asked turning around.
“Look who’s here luv.”
“Er hi Mrs Wood.”
“Gaby? Gaby Bond?”
“Yup, that's me.”
“My, you’ve grown.”
“Not up unfortunately,” I sighed.
“I certainly wouldn’t’ve recognised you lass.”
“It has been a while,” I conceded.
“More than that Gaby, you’ve positively bloomed, you’ve become a beautiful young woman, I bet your mother is proud of you,” Bren Wood suggested.
“Sometimes, don’t think she’s too keen on the hair.”
“I wouldn’t’ve thought this would be your career choice,” Woody mentioned.
“Geoff!” his wife admonished.
“Sorry Gaby, I just expected you to take a different career path.”
“Its alright, I just do this for pocket money, I run a Würst stand with Connie over there,” I pointed towards Thesing, “and I start catering college next month.”
“And still racing bikes like your mother?”
“Uh huh,” there was a time he would’ve told me and the rest of Warsop my results, “I’m off to Spain racing next week. So you having a break before the new term?”
“Something like that,” Bren agreed.
“Well I’d best get on, I’ll tell Mum I saw you.”
“Give her and your dad our best,” Mrs W confirmed, “I’ll give her a call when we get back.”
“Will do, enjoy the rest of your trip.”
“Thank you Juliette,” Woody smiled.

Juliette?

“So was it them?” Mand asked.
“Yeah, you remember they rescued us when we got marooned with that suicide the other year Con?”
“They were staying in Remagen right?” she recalled.
“Weihnachtsmarkt,” I agreed, “I always thought he was sharp as a tack, but he called me Juliette just now.”
“You’ve been left a long time Gabs,” P pointed out.
“Yeah, s’pose so.”

“What happened to you last night?” Mand asked Max as we set off for the walk back to Dernau.
“Went to see Mart, ended playing FIFA.”
“Gab was pining all night,” she told him.
“Was not!”
“You’ll have to make up for it tonight,” Con smirked.
“Might do,” he agreed.
“You’d best,” I exhorted.

Max didn’t actually stay that long, oh we had a decent enough snog but to be honest I wasn’t that enthusiastic, I guess he picked up on that.

“Guess who was at the Stube, on the coach tonight?” I posed to Dad handing him a cup of cocoa.
“How’m I supposed to know?”
“Guess.”
“I dunno, Superman?”
“You’re being daft, the Woods.”
“As in Warsop College?”
“Uh huh.”
“I bet that was a surprise.”
“You can say that again, I woulda thought he’d be at the school prepping stuff, its only like two weeks before they go back.”
“Probably recharging the batteries before term starts,” Dad suggested.
“Anyway they both send their best.”
“I’ll tell your mother, she’ll be sorry to’ve missed them.”

I found myself staring into the gloom of my bedroom ceiling, thinking not of bikes or Max but of my old headmaster. There was definitely something, I dunno, different about him. Maybe its just my memory but he was always sharp as, tonight he seemed to be, I dunno, a bit woolly.
Bren seemed to be more in charge and perhaps a bit, well, protective of him? And he called me Juliette, even with a school of like a thousand kids I’ve never known him get a name wrong. Warsop College, I really should contact Fran and its been a while since I spoke to Ally or even my cousin.

Is it really a year since I’ve seen the girls, no, more, Drea had her birthday a couple of weeks ago. Talking of which Bern’ll be arriving in a couple of weeks, that's gonna be so weird! A clap of thunder rolled down the valley, breaking my line of thought, I hope its dry in the morning.

Thursday morning did indeed arrive dry but the evidence of last nights storm lay along the roadside and the tarmac was damp for the most part on my ride up to Alternahr. I was early, even beating Kris to the cabin, I was changed and sipping at a cup of coffee before Herr T arrived with the Brötchen and pies.

“So how are the pies going? Ingenious eh?”
“Perhaps a bit of an acquired taste?” I suggested.
“Hmm, Therese said much the same.”
“Maybe just a plain chicken or steak next week?” I hinted.
“Simple, I like it, well I’ll see you later Gab, tschuss.”
“Tschuss,” I think he actually took the hint.

“That was a turn up eh,” Con mentioned as she helped herself to a drink a couple of hours later.
“Turn up?”
“Your old teacher being there like that last night.”
“Oh, Mr Wood, yeah bit of a surprise.”
“Can’t see Boxberg going on a coach holiday like that.”
“No,” I agreed, “probably not.”

I know the Woods came on that Weihnachtsmarkt trip the other year but I’m sure they used to go hiking in the alps and stuff. The man in the Stube last night certainly isn’t the one who used to strike terror into Drew Bond and the rest of teenage Warsop and Meden.

“I said, are you flying to Spain?”
“As if, no we’re driving, down to Lyon on Saturday then across to San Sebastian.”
“The race starts on Monday?”
“Nah, Wednesday.”
“So why’re you going Saturday?”
“Dad wants us fresh so we get to hit the beach!”
“Didn’t think you liked beaches.”
“Well they can have their attractions.”
“Juan no doubt.”
“Possibly,” I told her.

Well I’ve got no intention of going on a manhunt and I doubt we’ll get much chance to crash at the beach either, not with Dad in charge.

Maddy Bell © 09.02.2018