Gaby Book 25 Only Five Minutes by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2019 Madeline Bell After all the excitement of the last few weeks culminating in the trip to Austria, surely Gaby can get back to some sort of 'normal'? Well it wouldn't be Gaby if it was that simple would it?

 
'And in other news, the identity of the mystery blonde seen with Prince William on the ski slopes of Davos last week has taken a new and unexpected turn. Stern magazine who ran the story at the weekend have told sources here at the BBC that the young woman appears to be the mystery blonde from the Coburg / Habsburg wedding in Munich eighteen months ago,' Peter Witchell, the news anchor paused as a pair of still photos flashed up, 'it would appear she is a member of the German Saxe Coburg family, maybe we'll find out what their relationship is soon.'

“That looks like Gaby,” Ally suggested to Helen between bites of burger.

Watching the TV news wasn't a regular thing for the teens but it came on between the constant music videos shown in Meadowhall's food court.

“Bond?”
“How many Gaby's do you know?” Al queried.
“Well there was Gabi Vorsteppen at school back in the Nederlands.”
“Hel!”
“Well you did ask, you heard from her lately?”
“We've not exactly been close since, you know, the stuff with Bernie.”
“You could apologise,” Helen suggested.
“Like that'd go down well, 'hey Gab, sorry I was mean to Bernie, can we be friends again.'”
“You could write to her.”
“I think its too late for any of that,” Ally sighed, “so who else we gotta buy for?”
“Gaby? Bernie?” Helen suggested.
“They wouldn't want anything from me.”
“We do it between us,” the other teen offerred.
“Damn, you can be so sensible, go on then.”

 
“Your cousin's on the telly again,” Carol mentioned to her daughter who was busy filling muffin cases – it was all hands to the pumps to fill the Christmas orders, even John had been dragged into making deliveries for 'Carol's Cakes' after he'd got home from work. The TV was usually chattering away to itself as Carol worked, it can be a bit lonely working on your own, the habit hadn't changed just because trouble was helping out today.
“Gaby?”
“When did her sister get on the box, of course Gaby.”
“What's she done this time? Signed a deal for world peace?”
“No need to be sarcastic, they haven't said its her of course, well they don't do they, but she was apparently skiing with Prince William.”
Mad nearly choked, “Gab, skiing? Get off!”
“I think I know your cousin when I see her, you still look like twins,” Carol observed, “you finished putting those muffins out yet?”
“Almost, I can believe the Prince William bit but skiing, nah.”
“Your Aunt said they were going to Austria for some team thing.”
 

“I'm sure thats my grand daughter,” Josie mumbled to herself
“Sorry Jose, I was watching dishy Witchell,” Angela told her friend, “what were you saying?”
“The girl with William, she looks a lot like one of mine.”
“Jenny?”
“Hardly a girl anymore Ang, no her youngest Gaby, that girls got the same look to her.”
“What would your grandaughter be doing with Prince William, Nicky says its some hi faluting German heiress.”
'Yep, sounds like Gaby to me,' Josie thought to herself.

 
“Don't look like the same girl to me,” Big Rodg opined as the lunchtime news concluded.
“Its the BBC, 'course its the same girl,” his viewing companion stated with blind confidence in the national broadcaster.
“Bloody toffs, jettin' all over, skiin' an' that, who's paying that's wot I wanna know.”

It was one of Big Rodg's favourite soap boxes, the lifestyles of the rich and famous, always the same lines, same arguments and same conclusions.

“Give it a rest,” Russ complained, “all you ever do is complain.”
A third voice, that of Russ' girlfriend Kylie, got the mens attention, “so wotcha gonna do about it?”
“Wot you mean, do about it?” Big Rodg asked.
“Do I have to do all the thinkin' round 'ere,” Kylie complained.
“But you're so good at it Kyl,” Russ told her as he pulled her onto his knee.
“I'm serious.”
“So what do we do then girl?”
“We want money right?”
“Yeah,” the two men chorused in agreement.
“So who's got all the money?”
“The banks?” Big Rodg suggested.
“You want to rob a bank?” Russ queried.
“Like in the films,” Rodg went on.
“Not the banks, try again,” Kylie suggested.
“Dunno Kyl, footballers?”

She sighed, neither of her companions were exactly at the front of the queue when the brains were handed out, not that she was any kind of Einstein but at least she knew that.

“Toffs, Nobs, Royals, they're the ones wiv the real dosh.”
“Not footballers then,” Big Rodg pressed.
“Wot you finkin' then Kyl,” Russ asked.
“Ransom.”
“Like kidnapping? You can get banged up big time for that.”
“All them Nobs has security,” Big Rodg observed.
“So we go after one who hasn't,” Kylie told them.

© Maddy Bell 10.05.2019