Drew Goes South Chapter 16 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

“Do you feel better now?” asked Maddy, as Drew came out of the bathroom.

“Yeah; I'm okay,” he was swathed in towels after showering. “I think seeing my mum just stirred everything up, that's all.” He didn't sound very convincing but Maddy wasn't going to press the point.

“So what we doin' then?” she asked, “Riding?”

“I need to do some training, ideally I'd like to do it on that bike.”

“What, the thingy-type?” said Maddy.

“It's not quite a prototype, but it is a pre-production model. Knowing what it cost to develop almost makes me scared to ride it. What happens if I break it?”

“It's a bike. They don't just break … do they?” Maddy's voice rose a little nervously as she asked the question.

“Carbon fibre does; it shatters on impact,” said Drew, clapping his hands together to make the point and his towel turban came undone falling over his face. Maddy laughed, “Hey, it's gone dark,” he said from under the towel.

Maddy lifted the towel off his face and gave it to him, he started to replace it when the bath towel he'd wrapped around his chest began to droop. “Aah,” he squealed grasping one towel with each hand, and rushed into his bedroom.

“The art is in tucking the ends in tightly enough,” called Maddy from the landing.

“Now you tell me,” he called back.

“I thought everyone knew that.”

“Yeah, everyone except me.”

“Oh, Gabs, you are a dipstick,” Maddy replied chuckling.

“A dipstick on a bike? that would be sump-thing,” he called back, laughing at his own joke. It went over Maddy's head.

There was further laughing from the bedroom followed by a pause, then, ”Oops.”

“What's happened?” asked Maddy, “It sounded serious; have you broken a nail or something?”

“Worse, my right boob just fell off.” Another pause; then, “Bugger; there goes the other one.”

Maddy ignored etiquette and rushed into Drew's room to see him standing in a pair of knickers, holding a breast form in each hand. He put them on the bed and began to rub the newly exposed skin, “That feels so good,” he said as he rubbed his chest.

“I think Matt or Harry might notice you've gone a bit flat in the chest department,” said Maddy.

“Blow them,” retorted Drew, “this feels like heaven.”

“Will a bra hold them tightly enough when you're riding?” asked Maddy, knowing it would.

“Yeah, I've done it before, played badminton and done cheer practice with just the bra holding them.”

“What about a quick fumble in the dark?” asked Maddy.

“What d'you mean?” Drew looked puzzled.

“I mean,” said Maddy, “What if Harry gets amorous and gropes your chest? Won't he be able to tell they're loose?”

Drew picked up one of the breast forms and holding it out, said, “I'll take one out and say, “Here if you want to play with them, try this,” it should get his attention."

“It might also get you murdered.”

“Don't worry. I have no intention of letting him cop a feel of anything.”

“Gabs, I'm still worried.”

“It's only ‘cos you're jealous,” said Drew; eyes sparkling.

“Jealous? Jealous of what?” asked a perplexed Maddy.

“ ‘Cos you can't take yours off and have a good scratch,” he was laughing.

“No, you are quite right.” She was blushing and he was enjoying finally having got one over on her. “But then, you can't leave them on and have a good rub.” She began to massage her breasts and her nipples began to grow. They soon became visible through her tee-shirt.

Drew's eyes grew larger and larger, “Gee whiz!” he exclaimed once his mouth shut. “I guess you're right, I can't.” leaving him speechless, Maddy turned on her heel and left.

He sat on the bed, holding the breast forms and looking at his own nipples. They were quite large for a boy and seemed harder than usual, he wondered whether it would be nice to have ones like Maddy. That was some trick.

He got dressed and went downstairs. He wore his riding kit, “Let me guess what you're doing,” said Carol as he went into the kitchen.

“I'm going swimming,” he replied.

“In a cycling helmet?”

“Yeah, they're polystyrene; it will help to keep my head up.” They all laughed.

“You feel better?”

“Yeah, I'm okay.”

“Good,” she gave him a warm smile, which he received as intended. He smiled back. “I'm going to Bournemouth,” she announced, “To have a flit around the shops. Can you grab a sandwich?”

“Yeah, no problemo.”

“Gabs, would you mind if I went with Mum to Bournemouth?” said Maddy looking slightly embarrassed.

“Not if you want to,” Drew replied, feeling mixed emotions. It was nice to have Mad about, but if he did some proper training, she got in the way.

“Thanks,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. Then rushed upstairs to change into something more suitable for serious shopping.

“You sure you'll be alright on your own, Gaby?” Carol looked a bit concerned.

“Course I will, when I've finished, I'll come back here and sit with my arms folded, Okay?” He managed to keep a straight face while he said it.

“You silly thing,” said Carol smiling widely, and she patted him on the shoulder. “Got your key?”

“Yes, in my Gaby bag.” He rolled his eyes as he held up his small bag, “Along with my purse and Derringer.”

Carol did a double-take, 'Derringer, a small gun. Small gun – self-protection. It sort of makes sense,' she thought to herself, “Shouldn't you stick it in your knicker leg; like they do in cowboy films?”

“It would show in these,” said Drew pulling the lycra material of his shorts to illustrate his point.

“Yes, I can see that now, I suppose cycling in a corset and a bustle might prove a bit difficult.”

“In a what?” said Drew, open-mouthed. He knew what a corset was, he'd seen Madonna in one, “What's a bustle?”

“Never mind, I was only joking. Enjoy your ride.”

Drew got his bike out of the garage and after some stretching exercises, mounted it and set off towards Matt's shop. He was only half way through the village when someone called him.

“Gaby, yes, it is you … can I come with you?” It was Harry. Drew cursed under his breath. “Where's Maddy?”

“Gone to Bournemouth,” he looked at Harry, “Think you'll be able to keep up?”

“I'll try. Do let me come with you.”

“Alright. I'm going to Matt's shop. If I can get the race bike, I'm gonna push it quite hard. You sure you want to come?”

“Absolutely.” He smiled back, totally smitten.

Drew thought about setting a tough pace but it would have been both unnecessary and unkind. Instead, he allowed Harry to ride alongside much of the way into Weymouth.

As they passed Radipole Reserve, they saw Cheeseman walking away from the reserve. They stopped and hid behind a parked car, “What's he up to?” said Harry.

“I don't know, shall we go and take a look?” said Drew.

“What about the bikes? There's no cycling on the reserve,” commented Harry.

“We can still push ‘em, can't we?” retorted Drew, “Come on, let's go see.” They rode to the entrance to the reserve and jumped off their bikes, trotting alongside them. Several times people came past them riding bikes despite the signs prohibiting the activity. “Didn't know blind people could ride bikes,” said Drew in a loud voice as one of the lawbreakers rode past.

“Aw piss off,” he got as a response from the rider.

“Can't think why cyclists get a bad name,” he said as they continued towards the hide.

“If you were a boy, that last one might have been quite aggressive,” commented Harry.

“Good job I'm not then, isn't it?” Drew was smiling to himself, “But it irritates me to see so-called cyclists flouting the law. They don't stop at traffic lights, go down one-way streets the wrong way….”

“Park on double yellow lines,” quipped Harry.

“Yes, park on double … Whose side are you on?” puffed, a now tiring Drew.

“Yours, light of my life,” quipped Harry.

“You can cut that out straight away,” snapped back Drew.

“Anything you say, goddess.”

Drew suddenly stopped and Harry had to swerve his bike to avoid a collision, “Will you stop this nonsense, NOW?” said Drew angrily.

Harry swallowed hard.

“If you tell me I look lovely when I'm angry, so help me, I'll thump you.”

“Okay, okay, it's true, but I won't say it,” said Harry stepping backwards, “I'll behave.” He added, looking at the ground. “I can't help how I feel.”

“Neither can I," snapped Drew, “So don't push your luck.”

“Okay. I get the message.”

“Good, let's go,” said Drew trotting on again towards the hide.

When they got there; they found a few bird watchers in occupation. They made their way up to the raised viewing area, trying desperately to see if anything was visible in the gloom, “Hey, that's a hobby,” called one of the twitchers excitedly, “There around the back of the pool. Look at him go after that dragonfly,” They all looked out the front of the hide with renewed interest.

“Looked like a swallow to me, but then they all do,” said Drew giggling.

“No. It's a small falcon about the same size as a swift, it catches insects and small birds. They're quite rare these days. Here use these,” said the young man handing a pair of binoculars to Drew. “There he goes,” he said pointing out the window.

Drew pretended to follow the bird, but cast around the upper part of the hide including the underside of the roof. He saw something, or thought he did, sticking out of the hiding place
.

“How do you make the picture clearer, it's all squiffy?” he said to the helpful birdwatcher, acting like a dumb blonde.

“I take it you don't go bird watching too much then?” said Helpful.

“Who, little ol' me? How did you know that? You must be some sort of genius?” giggled Drew in little girl/bimbo style.

“Here, let me show you,” helpful, took the binoculars and showed where to adjust them, he put his arms around Drew from behind holding the binoculars. Harry tapped his foot in irritation, as Gaby appeared to be flirting with Mr Helpful.

“How close can you see with these ?”

“These are Nikons, so they're pretty versatile,” he turned the screw and handed them back to Drew, “Try that.”

“Oh, yes,” giggled Drew, “These are good aren't they? They are such a pretty colour too,” He continued to sweep around the front of the hide then around the inside of the hide. “Ooh, I can see the wood across there, it's so clear. I can nearly touch it.” He squeaked like a demented banshee, then handed them back to the birdwatcher, with a polite thanks.

A moment or two later, he stood at the doorway and called, “Goodbye,” this was said in the same little girl voice. All the birdwatchers turned around and replied, waving to her. Drew closed the door, pausing outside; laughter came from within.

“Thought you were away there, Mick,” said one voice. “Jailbait,” said another. It was followed by more laughter.

“Come on,” said Drew, pushing his bike away from the hide.

“What was all that about? Why the silly voice?” asked Harry.

“I wanted to borrow his binoculars. I thought I saw something in the space before he gave them to me, afterwards, I knew I saw something.”

“And he thought you were a dumb blonde?”

“I don't care what he thought, he did what I wanted,” quipped Drew.

“Feminine wiles in action, what chance do we mere men stand?” sighed Harry, lost in admiration for his goddess. Drew nearly choked at this while stifling a laugh. He continued pushing his bike back towards the road.

“What do we do next?” asked Harry, as they neared the road.

“I'm not sure, I expect the police are keeping tabs on things. The big question is; did he put whatever was in the hidey-hole, or was he trying to collect it? He could hardly collect it while Bill Oddie and friends were in there, could he?”

“I suppose not, for a blonde, you're pretty clever, aren't you?” said the would-be suitor.

“I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't keep doing that, it's very sexist as well as being irritating. Having blonde hair does not have any influence upon my mental abilities, I'm just as mental as everyone else,” said Drew with a twinkle as he climbed back on his bike.

He wasn't really sure how he felt about the hero worship from Harry, the smitten would be suitor really got up his nose, but being told he was clever, that was something else. As for pulling off the Marilyn Monroe stunt at the hide, it got him exactly what he wanted. That no one saw through it, made him feel good, they were all too busy looking at his boobs and legs, so it was easy. They simply did as he wanted because they thought he was a pretty bimbo and all the while thinking they were superior. That was the real laugh.

'Maybe Maddy is right, girls are superior life forms. Does that make me feel better or worse? Dunno.' By the time this had rattled around his brain a few times, they were at Matt's shop.

“Hi Tim, is Matt around?” called Drew as he walked in with Harry right behind.

“No he's not, he's at a meeting with one of our suppliers. So he'll have to eat and drink loads. It's really hard work,” he threw a beaming smile at Drew. “Personally, I'm quite happy he does that side of things. I'd much rather get my hands dirty with real work. How's the Dolce going?”

“Fine; it goes really well, though not quite as well as the new bike,” said Drew dropping hints like bricks.

“Ah, I get it; you want to borrow the carbon bike?” he shook his head as Drew nodded his. “I promised Mr Bower, you wouldn't use it unless accompanied by someone from the shop.”

“So that means no?” said a dejected Drew.

Tim looked at his watch, “It's eleven now. If I close up for half an hour or so at, say, half twelve. I could do with some exercise. That's the best I can do, kids.”

“That's fine,” said Drew, having been brought up to believe half a loaf was better than no bread at all, he went for what he could get. “One thing I was going to ask.”

“Go on.”

“Any chance of fitting tribars?”

“To your bike or the carbon?”

“The carbon.”

“I think so, but this is a race not a time trial.”

“I know, but some of those hills, the descents would be even faster with TBs.”

“I'll speak to Matt about it. I'd have to take the extra brakes off.”

“I could live with that, they are nice, but I'd like to do as well as I can on Sunday.”

“For a girl you are very competitive," said Tim.

“Not really, I just like my own way.”

“My wife keeps saying that,” said Tim with a twinkle in his eye. “She usually gets it too.” then to Harry who had kept very quiet, “You'd better watch this one, or she'll have you trained better than a performing dog.”

“I don't mind,” replied Harry, blushing furiously.

“No, that's what I always say to Matt when he mentions it,” revealed Tim.

“Matt not married then?” said Drew, playing the femme fatale again, mainly because it got Harry irritated.

“Matt? You have to be joking,” laughed Tim, “His motto is, ‘Why make one girl unhappy when I can make loads very happy'. It seems to work for him too.”

“So there's hope for me yet then?” asked Drew innocently, while Harry nearly choked to death. 'That was wicked of me. But he's been peeing me off with his comments all morning, so let's make him jealous. Hee, hee.'

“Judging by what he said about your riding, and having seen it for myself, I think Matt might just be showing his age a little,” said Tim chuckling as he said it.

“It could be I like older men?” said Drew coyly, rubbing salt in Harry's wounds.

“There are older men, and old men, sadly Matt falls into the latter category.” chuckled Tim. “I'd stick with someone nearer your own age, like Harry, here.”

Drew looked around at Harry and said, “Doesn't look like I've got much choice, does it?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Harry's spirit sink even lower. Now they were quits. He was quite surprised that he could play such girlish games with the men, but they seemed to offer themselves up for it. If nothing else, he decided he would now be able to spot Maddy when she was doing some manipulating, so he didn't fall victim to it. He pushed to the back of his mind, why he found it so easy. He didn't want to go there.

“See you at half twelve then, come on Watson,” said Drew to Harry.

“Yes ,Holmes,” said Harry, wondering why Gaby had got so nasty all of a sudden. 'Maybe it was payback for my jokes earlier. Maybe she doesn't really like me?'

“Gaby, are we still going to the cinema tonight?” he asked, half expecting some smart put down in response.

“I think so, why, you changed your mind?”

“No, not at all, what's your favourite sweets and drink?”

“I can bring my own.”

“Oh!” he said dejectedly.

Realising he had been a bit curt, Drew thought some kind words would have the puppy wagging its tail again. “You're a nice boy Harry and I like you. I said I would come to the pictures with you, you don't need to bribe me with sweets or anything else. I'm only going to watch the film.”

Feeling he was still in with a chance, he brightened up significantly, “can I buy you a sandwich for lunch, then?”

“No, I am quite capable of buying my own. You don't need to buy me anything. Save your money, put it towards a decent bike.”

“What's wrong with this one?” he said looking at the one he was sitting on.

“Nothing, but neither is there much good about it. When we go back to the shop I'll ride the new bike, we'll get Tim to put the saddle up on this one and you can ride it. Then you might understand what I'm on about. Until you've ridden a half-decent bike, you won't realise what you're missing.”

“But that's a girl's bike?”

“So?” Drew glared at him.

“Nothing,” he said very quietly, blushing profusely.

They rode back to Radipole and went into the reserve's reception centre to look through the telescopes they have there.

“The hobby's back,” said Drew, “So is you know who.”

“I thought you didn't know anything about birds,” said an astonished Harry.

“It's dangerous to think, better leave it to me,” said Drew, quoting a line Maddy often threw at him. He was beginning to realise that girls did hold some power in relationships with boys. As a boy, he hadn't always recognised it. As a girl, he was enjoying it. This was heady stuff.

He continued peering through the telescope, “he's on his way round to the hide. He's wasting his time though, it's full of birdwatchers watching the hobby. How sad,” the latter was said with derision.

They left the RSPB centre and walked somewhere they could sit and talk without Cheeseman seeing them. “Why do you think he's back?” asked Harry.

“Well, Watson, I don't think he's been able to collect something. My guess is it's either drugs or money.”

“Yeah, you're probably right.”

“Probably? There are no probabilities about it. The great ‘Cycling Detective' is never wrong. ‘Eets the little grey cells, mon brave .' “ The Poirot impression was said with as deep a voice and as phoney an accent as was possible, which led to Drew coughing a few times.

Laughing Harry replied, “I think you're mixing your sleuths. As Belgian accents go, that was more like Dutch, Double Dutch,” he then ran off before Drew could hit him.

“Let's get some chocolate or something, and get back to the shop it's nearly half twelve,” said Drew, once more mounting his bike. Harry looked at his and then at the Specialized, shrugged his shoulders and followed his leader.

Tim adjusted the saddle of Gaby's bike for Harry as Drew got the carbon bike from the rear of the shop. Tim then got his own bike out and they set off. Harry had never ridden a bike with combined brake and gear levers, so it took him a few minutes to get the hang of them. He did like the extra brake levers in the centre of the handlebars.

They set off up the Chickerell Road, eventually passing by Chickerell and heading towards Abbotsbury. The road does a sharp corner to the right, then meanders up and down hills for several miles. Some of the hills are quite steep and one has a blind summit. Drew was cycling well within himself, Tim seemed to keep up quite well and Harry was struggling but giving it a go.

“If you want to give it a burn up, go on. I'll keep an eye on Harry. When you get to Portesham turn right. Go up through the village and follow the road. There's a nasty hill but if you want to test yourself have a go at it. Turn around at the top, then come on back down. We'll wait for you by the garage.”

“You sure?” asked Drew, happy to be let off the leash.

“Go on before I change my mind,” called Tim to the already accelerating figure in front of him.

Drew leant over the handlebars and as he began to descend the first hill, clicked up through the gears and sped away. The road surface left something to be desired, but he was happy. It was a lovely bike and he was enjoying himself.

He dug in to climb the first slope, it was the blind summit. A car rushed past him as he neared the top, but he was quite safe. Flying down the other side he began to gain on the car which had just passed him, he was pleased to see it accelerate and leave him the space.

Up the next rise, this one less steep but a longer pull, he was out of the saddle and charging up it. He felt great, so did the bike. He may not be good at many things, but he could ride a bike. He passed a scrap yard on the other side of the road, not paying too much attention to the untidy tangle of metal and car bodies it displayed. He was into his cadence now, and that was all he thought about.

Down the other side of the hill and round into Portesham, he signalled and turned right. A slow climb up through the village on a winding road with several turnings off. Then, once clear of the buildings, the road began to rise. Now; this was a hill!

He changed down through the gears as he felt the pull of gravity on his leg muscles. It was steep and long, a good test of fitness. A car pulled past him, its engine labouring and emitting lots of black, choking smoke. It did finally pull away but not before he'd struggled to breathe and his eyes stung.

He kept going, remembering watching Armstrong in the Pyrenees, standing on his pedals and accelerating up mountains. He was now standing on his pedals and keeping up a reasonable rate. The hill was nasty and he was struggling to maintain a reasonable speed. It dipped below ten MPH, but he kept going. Finally, he breasted the summit his lungs and heart working at pretty well their maximum. He felt hot and sweaty, but he'd got there.

He pulled into a driveway to a farm and turned around, setting off down the hill as the traffic allowed. Knowing the bends in the road and the vagaries of the traffic, he allowed himself the luxury of freewheeling back down the hill. Tim and Harry were waiting near the garage, drinking bottles of water. Tim offered one to Drew, who accepted it gratefully.

“How d'you get on?” Tim asked Gaby.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you just cycled up a steep hill and it's okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Think about it well young lady, because this is part of the race circuit for Sunday.”

“Which way will we be going?” asked Drew.

“I'm not sure, probably in from the top then back towards Weymouth.”

“Kewel,” said Drew. He finished his drink, it was needed.

“Ready to go back?” asked Tim, Drew nodded but Harry was struggling.

“My bike alright?” asked Drew of Harry.

“Yeah, now I've the hang of the gears. I see what you mean about the ride, it is better than my old thing.”

“Had you ridden with drops before?” asked Drew.

“What are drops?” asked a puzzled Harry.

“The handlebars, you dipstick.” said Drew, then, repeating his joke of the morning; he said to Tim. “I'll bet you've never seen a dipstick on a bike before?”

“Oh yes, I have. I reckon half the riders I see on the roads would be in that category. Now stop bullying Harry, he's doing his best. Just because you're exceptional at riding, doesn't give you licence to judge others. Remember, a sign of greatness is the acceptance of others for themselves.”

Drew blushed, feeling rather stupid. Now the joke was on him. The only way to deal with it was to admit the mistake and apologise. “Yeah, I s'pose you're right Tim, I'm sorry Harry, it was mean of me.”

“That's okay,” he said, “I wasn't offended anyway,” his beaming smile nearly blinded Drew.

“Right Gaby, can you remember the way back to the shop?” asked Tim.

“Course I can,” came the response, it was hardly a difficult journey, simply follow the road back. Drew set off ahead of the others.

“Don't let her browbeat you kid, you're doing alright. She's like her mother, something special on a bike. She forgets the rest of us are human,” said Tim as the two mounted their bikes.

“She's also rather pretty, don't you think,” said Harry, still beaming.

“Oh, you've sure got a beauty there. You'll make some of the other lads jealous, I'll bet.”

“I do hope so,” he replied smugly, “I really do.”