Drew Goes South Chapter 9 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

“C'mon, Gabs, it's time to get up,” called Maddy to her sleeping cousin.

“Uh, “ replied the sleepy youth, and promptly turned over.

“C'mon, Gabs, remember you're racing today. Matt and Tim will be here soon.”

“Yeah, okay,” was the response, but the respondent was still lying down with eyes closed and obviously not awake.

Maddy went to the bathroom and returned with a wet flannel, “This is for his own good,” she told herself, as she giggled on the way back to his room. He hadn't moved and had probably drifted back to sleep. She rubbed the wet cloth over his face.

“Aaah! Wassgoin' on?” he sat up. “What you doing with that flannel?” Maddy was giggling. “It's not funny, I could have had a heart attack or something.”

“I called you nicely, but you wouldn't wake up, so I thought I'd start your shower while you were in bed. I thought I was helping.” Maddy smirked at him.

“Sometimes I hate you, Maddy Peters.”

“But today isn't one of those times.”

“I s'pose not.”

“Besides you have to keep your energy for Cheeseman.”

“Oh him, yeah, I s'pose I have. I'm going to beat him Mad if it kills me.”

“I'd prefer it didn't.” She said and gave him a hug. “In the shower Missy and I'll tell Mum to do your breakfast.”

The shower did the rest of the waking up process. Drew was not a morning person although he had been pretty good during this holiday. Now he felt a bit heavy, and he had to concentrate on the shower washing his hair and body, including the dreaded counterfeit breasts. “Much more of this, and I'll start to get used to having you,” he said to the appendages.

He towel dried and dressed in the sports bra and a pair of knickers, Maddy came in with the hairdryer and did his hair, tying it in a ponytail when she'd finished. He pulled on the red cycling shirt and shorts, then the white socks and finally the shoes.

“Don't forget your makeup,” insisted Maddy.

“But I'm riding in a bike race, not a beauty contest.”

“No that's next week.”

“What?”

“Joking,” she smirked at him again, “But it's important that Cheeseman thinks he's racing a real girly. Apart from that Harry will like it and so will his dad.”

“What's his dad got to do with it?”

“Didn't you notice the way his dad leched after both of us the other night.”

“No. Did he?”

“Get with it, Gabs, there's more to being a girl than having tits and smiling at people.”

“Is there, you seem to do quite well on it,” said Drew, his eyes twinkling.

“Look here, Missy, if it wasn't for the fact that you have to ride in a bike race, I could guarantee you would be walking with a limp for the rest of the day for that remark. I am trying to help you, you know.”

“I know, I'm sorry, I'm well aware there's more to being a girl, like shopping.”

“That's probably the most profound thing you have ever said,” replied Maddy much to his astonishment.

“It is?” he asked in a puzzled tone.

He looked her in the eye, just then she burst into giggles, “No, you great twit, but I had you worried there for a moment.” They both laughed for a moment before she pointed at his makeup and he complied with his bossy cousin's instructions.

In five minutes he'd applied some basic eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. He did it so easily, Maddy felt he looked as if he'd done it all his life. It looked fine, too. He was getting so girly in some of these things. Part of that excited her and part took her to places she would prefer not to go, not yet leastways. “Come on Lance Armstrong, watch you don't pop a bra strap,” she said as he finished, running quickly for the door. He followed behind, plotting how he'd exact revenge, one day.

It was quarter to eight when the door bell rang, Tim and Matt were early. They accepted a cup of coffee as they had time. Then they loaded up the van with the bike and as they were finishing, Harry, William and his dad drew up in their car. They had arranged to take the supporters club with them, however, Maddy went with Gaby in Matt's van, and Carol went with the boys, who were visibly disappointed.

“I've brought you another shirt if that's okay, it's another Specialized one, but with our logo on it too. I hope that's okay, I'd like you to wear it for the race.”

“Okay,” she replied then realised that changing shirts with the men around was not quite so easy in her current role. Maddy read Drew's mind and smirked. She was carrying a bag of other clothes plus towels, for after the race, though quite what the facilities were like she had yet to see.

“I'll run through the course with you when we get to Wimborne,” said Matt, “I don't envisage you having any problems, especially if you ride like you did against me. In fact you might have to borrow a bike rack.”

Gaby looked at Maddy and smirked. That was the plan, albeit a secondary one.

Matt continued, “There's a small contingent from the local club in Weymouth who usually ride this one. A couple of useful riders, especially Don Smith, he's represented the south a couple of times, does time trials too. He won it last year, now I think of it. I mentioned to him that I had a young lady riding for us and once he stopped laughing, he promised to keep an eye on you. Just in case this other kid tries anything.”

“But if he's out in front, how's he going to look after Gaby?” asked a concerned Maddy. It hadn't crossed her mind that Cheeseman might try something underhand.

“The rest of his team will keep an eye on her, so don't worry. Besides if you ride like you did yesterday, he's going to have to keep both eyes on you to stop you beating him. Honest, Tim, she went like the bloody wind, leaving me very much in second place.”

“Serves you right, I told you, you were getting old,” he laughed as he replied to his friend. “Good for you, Gaby, the old fart needed a lesson.”

“So how do you feel? Up for it?” asked Matt.

“I s'pose so,” said Gaby diffidently.

“You don't sound very confident.”

“I'll be okay I 'spect.”

Gaby stared out the window, noticing that the Bugler's car was close behind. She waved and Carol waved back. A little while later they approached Wimborne. “So what happened to the car?” asked Tim as he drove.

“Some bloke ran into us outside Wareham, on the big roundabout,” replied Maddy. “There was nothing mum could do. The garage will talk to her tomorrow about repairs and things and I hope we get a hire car as well.”

“Bit of a bummer that.”

“Yeah, but we can have the cottage for another week if we need it.”

“Well, that's useful. So if you have to stay longer, I suppose madam here will want to borrow the bike a bit longer assuming she doesn't win it today.”

“I would, if that's okay with you Matt.”

“Look kid, you go out there and do us and yourself proud today, and I think it will answer itself. Know what I mean?”

“Gaby always wants to win, don't you, Gabs?” answered Maddy.

“I don't always win though, Mad.”

“You will be up against some useful riders, Don Smith for one, but just do your best kid. If you ride like you did yesterday, you'll be a contender for the women's prize if not the overall thing.”

Suddenly they were there, at Queen Elizabeth's School. Tim unloaded the bike while Matt dealt with the registration. There was an assortment of vehicles cars, vans, campers and minibuses amongst the throng. Gaby looked around but didn't recognise anyone except those emerging from the Bugler's people carrier.

As Tim checked over the bike, he indicated to Gaby to change her shirt in the empty van, Maddy went to help. They emerged a moment later, with the red shirt proclaiming, ‘ South Coast Bikes' on the back and front in a white lettering and above it in pink sparkly lettering, ‘Gaby Bond' . Maddy tittered when she saw it, "I think they'll all know who you are in a few moments, Gabs.”

“How'd you like the shirt?” asked Matt returning with the forms.

“I dunno, cool I guess. I've never had my name on a shirt before.”

“Well, young lady, carry on like you did against me and it could well be on a pink or yellow one.” Gaby blushed thinking of the ramifications of this last statement.

Matt waved to someone, who wandered over to them. “Hi Don, how ya'doing?”

“ ‘kay Matt, you?”

“I'm fine. This is the young lady I'd like you and your mob to keep an eye on. I've marked her so there's no excuses.”

“Gaby Bond,” he read off the shirt. “Pleased to meet you Gaby, I'm Don.” Then to Matt he said, “Look Matt, you know I ride to win, but one of the others will keep an eye out for her.”

“Thanks, Don, she's not raced before,” said Matt, winking at Gaby as he said it. After Don went away, he said to Gaby, “I hope you frighten the shit out of him, like you did to me.”

Carol and the fan club arrived, “Kewl.” Declared Harry as he read the shirt Gaby was wearing. “It's got your name on it.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” said Gaby, indifferently. “It kind of marks me out a bit.”

“I think your riding will do that soon enough,” said Carol.

“Right ,” said Tim, “I've put a couple of bottle carriers on, with some isotonic drinks in them. This is the helmet with the mike and speaker, it plugs into this little transmitter which sits in the back pocket of the shirt.” It did and the test worked well. “We'll be a mile or so behind you, if you get into any trouble just yell.”
“Kewl, “said Gaby, “like being in a professional race.”

“For us this is a professional race, kiddo,” said Matt. “This is what we do, how we earn our living.”

“I hadn't thought of it like that,” replied a somewhat abashed Gaby.

“Look, Gaby, we thought long and hard before we asked you to ride with our logo. Our reputation is important in the local bike world. After seeing you ride yesterday we knew we'd done the right thing. This is a charity event, so no one is too bothered. Crap! Everyone is bothered, it'll get in the local press and the cycling press. There is no such thing as not being bothered. It all counts. Let's have a look at the route.” Matt and Gaby went off to the side of the van with a map.

“Gaby looks wonderful,” beamed Harry, who always thought the object of his affections was wonderful.

“She's in good shape,” agreed Maddy, "but she's often a bit nervous before the start of a race." Matt and Gaby returned and Gaby started warming up on the bike. “Does she know the route?” asked Maddy to Matt.

“I've gone over it. There'll be marshals and police all over the place, so it's fairly obvious. I've pointed out the tricky bits, and how to avoid them, the rest is up to her.”

“Look out here comes Godzilla,” commented William, as Cheeseman swaggered over.

“Where's Barbie?” he asked Harry.

“Get stuffed, Cheeseman.”

“Tough with all these people around, aren't you Palmer. Just watch the other eye doesn't meet with a solid object.” He scanned the throng and saw Gaby warming up. “Oh there she is pretending she knows what she's doing. Even if she does it won't help he.” With that, he wandered back to his father's car and unloaded his bike, a Cannondale. Soon he was sprinting up and down the practice area trying to intimidate Gaby, who quietly ignored him.

Drew was itching to get things started, he understood the route and Matt had driven it the day before to check it out. As a ex racer he knew his job and had advised Gaby well. Cheeseman was irritating him rather than frightening anyone and hopefully if he kept up the sprints, he'd pull something and have to retire. Certainly, he was a big lad, and in shorts his legs were quite muscular, at least compared with Drew's. Despite being attached to a champion, they were deceptively powerful, looking like shapely girl's legs they were more than capable of beating anyone of a similar age and quite a few older ones. Drew hoped Cheeseman was in this category.

After a short time, the riders were called to order and the race began. Cheeseman shot off like a rocket amongst the leaders, Drew slightly taken aback by the melee that occurred, remained with the majority of riders in the peloton.

The riders, about fifty of them, rode out of the school drive turning right at the crossroads, whilst a policeman held up the traffic for them. This really was like being in a pro race, thought Drew. He fantasised about sitting in Lance's slipstream while they headed towards Paris and the final stage of the Le Tour. Of course he was the only one who could possibly beat the legendary Texan, but he was biding his time for the final sprint.

They turned left and down a hill crossing a farmyard and along a gravel track. It was decidedly uncomfortable, even with the gel saddle. A young man to his right, commented on the rough surface. Gaby nodded a response.

He spotted the name on the shirt, “Oh very posh, riding for Matt and Tim are you?”

“Yeah.”

“Bond, that name's familiar.”

“Yeah, my dad's a secret agent and trained killer.”

“Sure he is, double oh whatever. What about your mum?”

“She's a school teacher.”

“Oh, I thought maybe she rode bikes.”

“She does now and again.”

“Like at world championships?”

“Something like that.”

“So you're Jenny's kid?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Got a brother haven't you?”

“Yeah, look I'm trying to concentrate on this race, can we talk later?”

“Sorry I spoke,” said the young man and put on a bit of a spurt. Gaby however, decided it was time to move through the ranks of the peloton.

They emerged onto a metalled road which went uphill. Here our hill climb hero shot past half the field including her previous interrogator. They crossed another road junction protected by a police officer, and finally Gaby could see the leaders. They were beginning to draw away from the rest of the field, and Cheeseman was still with them.

“Damn this bra,” muttered Drew as he felt the strap slide off his shoulder, “it would do that now, wouldn't it?” He managed to slide it back without any interruption to his rhythm.

The computer said they had gone about four miles, he dropped a sprocket and set off after the leaders. It was hard work, but about fifteen minutes later he was just behind them, exactly, where he wanted to be, like a cheetah stalking its prey, not wanting to spook them. Cheeseman was the first target, then the rest of the leading pack. There were seven of them, just sit tight and wait.

The race was really well organised, police at every road junction stopping the traffic, and most of the roads were of reasonable standard. They were doing about a steady twenty, which was how Gaby had caught them. Drew was used to the ‘even twenty five', so he had plenty in the tank, although it was going to mess up his averages.

The race continued through Gaunt's Common and up the hill to Hinton Martell. They carried on up the hill and through the village, turning a sharp left then a right. Through Tarrant Rushton and the old airfield, from where the gliders had taken off for the ill fated attempt to capture the bridges over the Rhine at Arnhem. The story formed part of the film, ' A Bridge too far.'

After the old airfield came a steep descent down ‘The Cliff', followed by a sharp left. At this point disaster overtook Don Smith, he made the corner but someone coming behind didn't and caught his back wheel. Three more piled into the crash, and it became obvious that many more could follow.

Amazingly neither Cheeseman nor Gaby were affected, in fact Cheeseman was now lying in third place, behind two riders wearing the same green and white colours, who were taking it in turns to lead.

Behind them was one more rider in a blue outfit and our heroine. They rode through Tarrant Keyneston and up a hill to Tarrant Crawford, then left towards Shapwick.

According to the computer, they had done about twenty miles, and Gaby decided to take the blue rider. A mile later, she was in fourth place and irritatingly Cheeseman was now in second, having edged past one of the green team.

Less than four miles to go, Gaby was challenging the displaced green rider. He decided he was not going to allow a girl to take him. It was a wrong decision, but in not wanting to let Cheesecake know she was stalking him, she let green man stay ahead, but he was tiring. The pace had risen; they were now doing over the twenty five miles an hour

About three miles to go, and Gaby stayed right behind the green man, easing in his slipstream waiting to pass him. Back into Wimborne, past the old mill, and Gaby went for it, leaving the green man at the crossing. Cheeseman and the other green rider were eyeing each other all the while waiting for the sprint finish, so when Gaby shot through between them at about eight hundred yards to the finish, they nearly fell off their bikes.

Real Jenny Bond stuff, thought her talented offspring. However, the other two weren't playing the game and sprinted powerfully after him. At the turn off at the school, Drew gave a final effort and won by a wheel, followed by the green man and then Cheeseman.

The fan club led by Maddy and Harry rushed over to catch both the bike and its rider as it came to stop. “You were wonderful!” exclaimed Harry.

“I ... puff, pant ... was ... puff, I... puff pant, feel ... quite ... stran…ge.” with that, Gaby collapsed into Harry's arms. He looked somewhat uncertain as to what to do.

“Lie her flat,” called Matt racing over towards them. He took charge, feeling a strong pulse, he said, “She's just fainted, give her some air.”

While she was out she was taken to the St John Ambulance, where they gave her some oxygen and she came around a few moments later. “Where am I? Maaaad!”

“It's okay, Gabs I'm here,” reassured Maddy rubbing her hand.

“Did I win, Mad, did I do it?”

“Yes, kiddo, by a wheel. Cheesecake was third.”

“Oh, good. Oh, I feel sick.” Gaby then shared her breakfast with the assembled throng. No, it was caught in a bag, and after a drink, she was well enough to go back to her friends.

“You okay?” asked an anxious Harry, beating Matt to the question by a millisecond.

“Erm, yeah, I guess so. I was dehydrated apparently. So I've got to drink some fluids all day.” Matt offered an isotonic drink, which she accepted.

“Looks like I'll have to order another bike,” he said with mock concern.

“We got some cracking photos of your sprint finish. That was one hell of a dash,” said Tim, holding a digital/video camera. “The first thing they knew about you being there was when you pissed past them, right down the middle. Risky but it worked. Your mum did something similar in the worlds didn't she?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“See told you, pedigree shows,” beamed Matt.

“So I get to keep the bike?”

“That was the deal.”

“Kewl!”

“How would you like to be the first person to race on their newest model?”

“Eh?”

“They've brought out a total carbon frame for the Dolce.”

“What?”

“Weighs less than a kilo. I happen to have one arriving next week. It's a pre production model. You can't even get them in the States yet.”

“You mean I get to ride a prototype?”

“Well, it's not quite a prototype, it's a pre-production model. But there is a race you could ride it in on Saturday.”

“Wow, I'd love to, but I'd have to check with my dad and with Aunty Carol and so on.”

Carol who had been watching from a safe distance, so as not to crowd Gaby, now came forward. “How are you feeling, Gaby?”

“I'll be alright in a minute or two,” she said taking a swig of the drink. “Will we still be here on Saturday, Aunty Carol?”

“I don't know, Gabs, depends upon the car. Why?”

“Matt has offered me a chance to ride a proto, no a pre production bike, in a race. There isn't another available in England, so it could be a once in a lifetime chance.”

“I don't know, Gaby, you'll need to speak with your father, and I don't know what stage the car will be in either.”

“I don't suppose I get to keep that one too?”

“Sorry, Gaby, I'm not made of bikes, besides it's only on loan to us from Specialized.”

“Oh, well, it was worth asking.”

“It sure was, and if we get some decent photo's you could end up in their publicity stuff.”

“Wow,” said Gaby, then caught the funny look Maddy was throwing her and she suddenly thought about the consequences of wider publicity. Someone like a major bike manufacturer would be likely to do their homework and find that Gaby is not a very substantial character, although she does feature in pictures in various papers and cycling magazines, including ‘Cycling Weekly' or the comic as Drew calls it.

This was a real dilemma. Drew would love to ride the new bike, even in his alter ego, but wasn't sure about the publicity. However, there are already photos of Gaby in various newspapers and magazines, including that one in the yellow dress his mother set up. There were flashes as he crossed the winning line, so there will probably be pictures in the local paper and it could get into the cycling press. “Geez,” he thought, “I do some dumb things at times.”

“Oh, Gabs, this is Ed Cooper from the local paper, can we give him a couple of minutes?” asked Matt. Gaby could hardly refuse.

“Hi, Gaby. Say, I like the shirt, can we get a picture of it?” He took his own photo with a digital camera. “Matt says, your mum is Jenny Bond, the world champion.”

“Yeah, she is.”

“Do you want to follow in her footsteps?”

“What, like win the Worlds? I dunno. Winning a non-accredited race in Wimborne hardly counts does it?”

“No, of course not, I meant about in the future, would you like to emulate your mother?”

“Maybe, if I'm good enough. We'll have to see.”

“Indeed. What do you think Matt? Have we got a future champion in the making?”

"Without any doubt. Gaby was the youngest rider in the field today, yet she managed to avoid a pile up which claimed several more experienced riders, including Don, who won it last year. She also rode a very canny race, with a sprint finish her mum would have been proud of. I raced her yesterday, she beat the pants off me. I'm trying to get her to race next week for us in the Dorwey challenge.”

“What the race from Weymouth up and around Dorchester?”

“The very same. We have a new bike from Specialized for her to test for us.”

“That sounds pretty exciting stuff, Gaby, are you going to go for it?”

“I don't know yet, I have to check with my dad.”

“I mean, Gaby, testing a new bike, that's not something you get to do every week is it?” asked Ed, trying to draw Gaby into agreeing, because it would make a better story.

“No, it isn't.” Drew was well aware of the reporter's game and was not going to commit to anything before speaking to his dad.

“I'm sure that we would get lots more people watching if we knew you were riding. Especially with the new bike. How did you manage that Matt.”

“I have friends in high places.”

“You do?”

“Don't look so surprised Ed, remember I used to race once. It's not that long ago. Well the Specialized R&D director is a friend of mine, from when I raced in the States. I heard about the new bike, knew we had a wonderful opportunity to test it, Specialized were interested in possible good publicity, and have agreed to loan us one. They aren't available over there yet, so this is a very rare item.”

“Do you appreciate that, Gaby?” asked the reporter.

“Yes.”

“Doesn't that excite you?”

“Do you mind if I go now, I need the toilet?” said Gaby and strolled off with Maddy who was shaking as she walked suppressing a snigger.

“So you beat me, eh, Barbie? But sneaky, just like a girl.” Cheeseman stood before our two friends, he was not best pleased.

“It's not my fault you were beaten by a girl,” replied Gaby, “Please let us pass.”

“You were lucky,” sneered Cheeseman, “You couldn't do it again.”

“I wouldn't bet on that, Cheeseman, so if I were you I'd leave her alone.” Harry came racing in on his white charger to save his damsel from distress.

“Piss off, Palmer, or I'll decorate your other eye, I'm talking to Barbie, not Ken.”

“Oh that's so funny, Cheeseman, know all about Barbie dolls do you?” Harry was walking on very thin ice, it cracked.

Whack! Cheeseman caught him a blow to his other eye. He staggered about holding his face.

“You big bully,” screamed Gaby, before Drew unleashed a punch which Mike Tyson would have enjoyed delivering. It caught Cheeseman on his nose and his eyes watered just before the blood began to flow. At this point several adults intervened and stopped the fisticuffs.

“Typical Palmer, lets his girlfriend do his fighting,” shouted Cheeseman before his father led him away.

“You okay, Harry?” asked Gaby of her injured champion.

“I think so.”

“Geez Harry, did you see that? Gaby just gave Cheeseman a bloody nose.” William had just caught up with the events. “She caught him a beaut.”

Maddy had checked on her cousin, “Did you have to hit him so hard?” she whispered.

“My hand hurts,” was the reply.

After things settled down, the girls went to the toilet and a little later the prizes were presented, a cup for Gaby plus a small shield, the second and third places got a shield. The local mayor presented the prizes, and invited the winner to return and defend the cup next year, Gaby deferred on answering the invitation.

Assured there was room for Gaby and Maddy in the Bugler's car, Matt and Tim left promising to deliver the bike to the cottage on their way through. With that, Maddy and Gaby went off the toilet again where the latter washed and changed into a denim skirt and a pink top. “You could have brought some shorts, Mad.”

“If you don't like my choice of clothes you can always do your own packing. Oh, I forgot, you did and forgot everything.”

“Alright, you made your point.”