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?

 
It was after one by the time we got back to Gran's, seems that everyone wanted to make the acquaintance of the guest warbler. I was regretting wearing my designer frock too, apparently one of the 'fashion' magazines had a feature on D&G in the last issue and my frock was included. Its a sad fact that the women around here only aspire to what the lifestyle mags tell them, even if they can only afford look alikes.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really not a clothes horse, the designer label stuff I have is largely down to my mysterious benefactor. Okay so I appreciate quality brands but my every day stuff is pure high street, C&A, H&M, Tally and so on. Lets face it, fancy lingerie is all very well when you are dressed up but its not exactly a good choice when you are dunking Frites and flipping Schnitzel.
 

“Can you give your Gran a hand?” Mum requested finding me slumped in one of Gran's armchairs.
“Er okay, maybe I should change?”
“See what she needs first.”
“Whatever,” I sighed pulling my stilts back on – I am not risking a ladder in these stockings.

“Mum says I should give you a hand?” I offered poking my head into the kitchen.
“Thanks love, your mother always wants to take over, so how are you with bread sauce?”
“Um, not sure, don't think i've ever made it.”
“Its easy enough, don't tell anyone but I use packet stuff, there's an apron in the larder you can use.”

Gran was treating us to Christmas dinner XXL, that doesn't neccesarily mean the plate is piled high rather that it has everything you can imagine. Turkey, beef, mash, roasts, sprouts, carrots, cauliflower, string beans, pigs and of course Yorkshire pud. On top of that are all the condiments, bread sauce, cranberry and gravy, so yes its a big dinner but if you don't have huge servings of stuff its not over powering.

There is a starter, not soup or anything heavy but a piece of smoked fish with a bit of salad and a white sauce of some sort and whilst I love Christmas pudding, Gran's doing a winter berry sorbet. Okay, its not everyones idea of the annual feast – its a lot more than my German friends will celebrate with but I'm sure a lot of those at this mornings service at St Mary's will be sitting down to much bigger plates.

Maybe if we'd been at Bond acres the veggies and stuff would be on the table but there's only four of us and Gran's table isn't huge so between us we plated up the meals apart from the sauces, covering them before placing them in the cooling oven.

“We ready?” Gran asked my parents, arms laden with a tray of starters.
“Sure Mum,” Mum answered, “you want the Queen on?”
“Turn it off for now, I'm sure we'll get a repeat if we miss it.”

Plates were distributed and after the traditional cracker pulling and toasting, with a bottle of wine from the Sebenschuh vineyards, we started our meal.
 

“Anyone want coffee?” Mum asked.
“I'll do it,” I volunteered.
“You helped with dinner, my turn to contribute,” I was informed in no uncertain terms.
“I'd prefer tea Jen,” Gran opined.
“Dave?”
“Yeah, I think tea for me too,” Dad allowed.
“Gaby?”
I shrugged, “why not, we've been drinking coffee half the day.”
“I'll do a pot then,” Mum advised collecting the dessert plates up to take with her.

Christmas lunch, dinner whatever, had, for once been an unhurried affair and quite convivial. I was a bit dubious about the starter, I'm not a great fish eater, we don't really eat a lot back home, there's no tradition of fish and chips and the local rivers are not exactly renowned for their piscine bounty. Having prepared myself for the worst it was a surprise to find myself enjoying the smoked mackerel and even the slightly sweet dressing.

As for the main event, it was a lesson in 'less is more', okay, I could've managed a couple more sprouts and maybe another roast tatty but just because you can doesn't mean you should. So for a change I wasn't feeling stuffed, just pleasantly full as I helped clear the rest of the table. Mind you, I think i've put on at least a kilo, my dress is definitely feeling a bit tight around the middle.
 
“Are we gonna do prezzies?” I asked.

Oh I know i've had my main present, the Mofa of course and then there's my new race shoes but they aren't really a Chrimbo gift are they? There must be something from Gran and my sister at least, Nan and Gramps Bond will have sent money, its nice but not the same as an actual prezzie. If nothing else, i've got stuff to give out, its not all about receiving after all.

“I suppose so,” Dad allowed.
“Kewl!” I pretty much jigged.
“You'd think she was seven not seventeen,” Mum stated arriving with a tray of tea things.
“Leave the girl be,” Gran chuckled, “you were just the same once upon a time.”
“I was not.”
“You don't remember the wheels then?”
“That was different,” Mum suggested.
“You were eighteen,” Gran told us.
“Wheels?” I queried.
“Mum!” Mum complained.
“Your mother had been going on about wanting some new race wheels for months, your Grandfather had them built for her up in Manchester but somehow she still got wind. Anyway, Christmas Day and Art had the wheels hidden in the car, we had an old Cortina, this one,” she motioned towards Mum, “was fit to burst, she'd searched the house and couldn't find them.”
“The car was sneaky,” Dad noted.
Mum sobered a bit, “that was his last Christmas, I was such a pain to him.”
“Its not like we knew what was coming up Jen,” Gran pointed out.
“I know, but ...”

Of course, you probably don't know about Grandad Peters do you? Well I never knew him, he died in 1982, a victim of the Argentine attack on HMS Sheffield in the Falklands War. I guess I might get my cooking gene from him though, he was head Chef, killed instantly when the missile hit the ratings galley. As far as we know his body lies with the Sheffield somewhere off the Falklands.

Dad cuddled Mum, “come on Jen, its supposed to be Christmas,”
“But he never even saw me use the damned wheels,” Mum sniffed.
“He would've been proud with what you did Jenny,” Gran told her, “you won the British championship on those wheels.”

Wow, I never knew that, I mean, why would I, it was before I was born after all.

“Really?” I asked.
“Really,” Dad confirmed, “they're in your Mothers old Harry Hall still.”
“After all these years Dave?” Gran asked.
“They're still good wheels, maybe not up to modern standards but SSC's on Super Record were the bees knees back then.”

Mum was still a bit red eyed but her crying jag was over at least.
 
“This ones for you Gran,” I announced.

As is our tradition, as youngest family member I get to distribute the gifts, not just mine but everyone puts them in a pile and I work through handing them out.
“thank you,” Gran allowed taking what looked to be a book or something, the writing was obviously my sister's.

Some people are meticulous in unwrapping, taking great care to not tear the paper, thankfully Gran isn't one of them! She quickly revealed something wrapped in that bubble stuff which soon joined the paper on the floor.

“Oh my!”
“What is it Gran?”
Mum snorted, ”what has she done now?”

Gran didn't reply but rather turned the picture frame around for the rest of us to see.
“Is that...” Dad started.

I squiggled around to get a better look – oh sugar, no wonder she didn't want to come with us.

“I'll kill him!” Mum quietly stated.
“Don't be hasty, it takes two Jen,” Dad pointed out.

It was quite clear when I took the picture from Gran's hand, one of those scans they do when you're pregnant, yup, looks like my sister is in the family way. Scrawled across one corner was 'Happy Christmas Gran, meet your Great Grandaughters, Love Juliette and Boris'. I looked at the picture again, OMG she's having twins!

“Mum, its twins!”

Talk about a stick in a wasp nest, present distribution was sidelined as a call was placed to Germany. Of course the conversation was quickly filled with the when's, we all know the how! The imminent demise of Boris will wait until we return to Germany. For the record, she's due in June so she'll finish the year at Uni, apparently she can defer the second year if she wants to. I guess Jules has trumped Mum's wheels.
 
“You haven't got any surprises for us?” Gran queried after we'd wet the impending arrivals heads with another glass of wine.
“Gra-an.”
“She better not,” Mum intoned.
“She's a sensible girl Jen,” Gran stated in my defence.
“I thought her sister was.”

I felt myself colour up a bit, memories of that panic when we went up to Bonn flittered across my memory, I guess it would've been the immaculate conception but it sure had me worried for a few days.

“Thanks Gran,” I leant across the sofa to give her a quick hug, well not quite so quick.

We eventually got back to the physical present giving business asThe Vicar of Dibley came on the telly. The TV didn't stand a chance when gifts were being opened, i'd already opened Jules contribution, a gift card for a store that, well lets just say I'm not going to broadcast what they sell to my parents and Gran! What does a Gran by her teenage grandaughter? Only a new phone, one of those Motorola Razr Android ones with a camera and stuff!

The rents added a delicate gold neck chain with an Amber drop, Manda a pair of Opal studs and my cousin a Hermione Granger figurine, you know from Harry Potter. My largese ran to a bracelet for Mum, a Kostum style jacket for Gran and for Dad I went thirds with Jules and Mand to get him a Campagnolo corkscrew (we didn't actually bring it to England, just a picture and a half bottle of a nice red.

But it has to be said, Jules' news pretty much trumped everything else.
 
I stifled a yawn, “think I'll go to bed.”
“Tired kiddo?” Dad asked.
“Yeah, I feel like i've been up forever.”
“It has been quite charged,” he agreed.
“Thanks for the presents.”
“You're welcome Gab,” Gran told me.
“G'night,” I offered scooping up my prezzies.
“Night kiddo – and hang that dress up,” Mum instructed.
“Yes Mum,” I sighed.

To be truthful i'd forgotten what I was wearing, I had swapped my heels for slippers – yeah, high fashion but comfort trumps looks, especially when its only family gonna see you. I did the eye roll as I turned back to the door.

“And don't roll those eyes at me.”

How does she do that?
 
It didn't take me long to get ready for bed, a shower can wait until the morning, I left my hair but did take the time to clean my face of slap. I shivered as I climbed under the duvet, everything felt cold, not that the cottage was cold but you know what I mean. The light went out and I made a nest of the duvet and pillows against the wall.

So of course, I came to bed because I'm whacked out and then can't get to sleep, grrrr! Instead I lay amongst the bed clothes replaying the days events. The presents have been pretty cool, okay there's not a lot but I have got the Mofa too, I'm certainly not complaining. But Jules, talk about depth charging things!

Hmph, looks like I'm gonna be a Tante for real, well I sort of am already with Drea but I'm more honory there, Jules twins will really be my nieces. It sounds weird saying that, I can't believe the news really but the proof is in the picture as they say. I wonder what she'll do with Uni, she sounded pretty upbeat about going back to finish her course but I guess its easy to do that now before the reality of tiny feet.

And then the choir business this morning, that was weird and embarrasing, much! More so that that Michael chap saw BlauHase at Moselfest, when he asked for my autograph too, I didn't know what to write. Hmm, must see about getting a copy of that DVD, wonder if Stefan has one, he's never mentioned anything.

We didn't have any tea did we? I suppose Chrimbo dinner was quite late and we did have a fry up this morning....
 

“Well that went better than I thought it would,” Jules mentioned as she cuddled with Boris, their student flat wasn't exactly luxurious but the heating worked unlike the shower which only worked on days with an F in – if you were lucky.
“You think?”
“She didn't outright threaten to cut your bits off.”
“That's supposed to make me feel safe?”
“She'll get over it, its not like she doesn't know we've been sleeping together is it?”
“Guess not,” Boris allowed before taking a swig from his bottle of Krombacher.
“I mean,” Jules pressed on, “i could understand her being surprised if it was Gab.”
“I wouldn't want to be on the same continent if I'd got your sister pregnant!”
“And how would you get my baby sister pregnant?”
“The same way we got these,” he told her, “hypothetically of course,” he hurriedly added.
“Hmm, you think they've done it?” Jules queried.
“Max and your sister? How would I know?”
“You talk with him.”
“Hi Max, you doing it with Gaby? Geez, Jule, like we're gonna have that conversation. Don't you talk to her?”
“Not really – hope she liked the gift card.”
“That was a bit mean.”
“Why? Its not like she doesn't know the place, its not all Toys and stuff, she could get some stuff to wear with BlauHase, corset or something.”
“I still think it was a bit, I dunno off, specially when she got you that coat and my belt wasn't cheap.”
“She'll see the funny side.”
“If you say so.”
“You think I should've rung Mum before?”
“It was your call.”
“I thought it'd be a nice surprise.”
“Shock more like,” Boris opined.
Jules reached over her boyfriend to grab a biscuit, “it's still snowing.”
“Forecast said it would,” Boris noted, “this TV is rubbish, why do they have to put this Heimatsmusik on?”
“They're probably watching James Bond at Gran's.”
“We could put a DVD on?”
“Or we could go to bed,” she suggested.
 

“You think they're gonna be alright?” Jen posed.
“Who?” Dave mumbled from behind her ear, the pair of them spooned together under the duvet.
“Jules and Boris.”
“Thought you wanted to chop his bits off.”
“Who said I still don't. We're gonna be grand parents Dave.”
“Thats the usual way of these things,” Dave agreed.
“I don't think I'm ready to be a grandma.”
“You think Jules is ready to be a mum?”
“I doubt it.”
“I sure as hell wasn't ready to be a dad when Jules turned up.”
“She was planned though,” Jen mentioned.
“Still doesn't prepare you for a new little person arriving.”
“Twins,” Jen mused.
“They'll be okay love, we'll make sure of that.”
“What about Gaby?”
“What about her?”
“You don't think she'll, you know, want to join the party?”
“Gaby? She's taking contraception, isn't she?”
“She's getting her prescription but whether she's taking them.”
“You think she's sleeping with Max?”
“They're both nearly seventeen, what do you think?”
“I think I'll have to polish the shotgun.”
Jen slapped at her partner, “don't be daft.”
“You think we should have a tete a tete when we get home?”
“About what?”
“The birds and bees,” Dave offered.
“She's seventeen not stupid Dave.”
“I know, but, well she's done some daft things before.”
“Okay, I'll have a talk with her,” Jen allowed.
 
© Maddy Bell 17.6.2019