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?

 
​ So okay, not the best choice of frock! I scuttled back upstairs to my room, wrenched the dress over my head and opened my lingerie draw. Shitza, yes there were BH's there but none that wouldn't show.​ Of course, they'll still be drying, I took all the plain ones to Gran's. Grrr! Okay, plan B.
​
​ “What was that about?" Mum enquired when I returned to the living room.
​ “Erm, slight underwear malfunction?"
​ “Gaby," she sighed, “One day."
​ “We ready to eat now we're all here?” Dad queried with a Paddington stare at me.
​ “Sorree," I offered to our slightly bemused guests.
​
​ With a mere ten of us tonight Dad had only put one extra leaf in the table which meant it was cosy but not cramped by the time everyone was seated. Of course, Max managed to sit on one side of me, Kat the other.

​There are of course stews and similar in German cuisine - who doesn't like Gulasch? But an English stew is something else. Winter veggies, potatoes, carrots, leeks along with pieces of stewing steak in a rich beef stock topped with suet dumplings - what's not to like? Okay, so Manda had her own veggie variety sans the meat product with German style potato dumplings but still it's a great winter warmer. Dash of Hendo's relish and it's perfect.

​Von Strechau senior was particularly interested in the dumplings - he does an English night in his restaurant every now and then, I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before. Soon everyone was happily tucking in to the one pot delight with relish (ha, ha).

​ I was still savouring the last of my stew when I felt something on my leg, something stroking my leg through the smooth knit hose. Hmm Max. I glanced sideways, he was having a discourse with Henryck Pinger, just the merest movement of his right arm giving him away.

​ “Someone's having fun," Kat suggested under her breath.
​ “Eh?"

​ She poked her head forward to see past me to Max.

​ “Yep, thought so," she smirked.
​ “Thought what?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
​ “Lover boy," she stated and I felt another hand on the other leg.
​ “Kat!" I hissed.
​ “Everything okay over there?" Mum enquired.
​ “Yes Jen, Gaby was just telling me about the hose she bought earlier."

​ There was a sudden movement as Max quickly removed his hand from my thigh.

​ “Not more hose Gaby, I swear Wolford'll go bust if you ever stop wearing it," Mum opined.
​ “They're not really hose, they're like aerobics tights, thought they'd be better than bike stuff for the artistic stuff."

​ Well I thought it was a good cover.

​ “How are you doing with that," Maria asked, “Your dad said the Federation wanted you to try it."
​ “Erm, I’ve not really had a chance to do much yet, what with Weihnachts and all that," I admitted.
​ “Sounds intriguing," Max's mum suggested.
​ “It's sort of gymnastics but done on a bike," Dad explained.
​ “Now that I’d pay to see," Wilhelm chuckled.
​ “You managed a couple of moves at the training day eh kiddo?" Dad mentioned.
​ “Just about," I agreed, already feeling my face flushing a bit.
​ “Everyone ready for dessert?" Mum asked.
​  
​ “So how did you know?" I asked Kat a couple of minutes later. I pulled pud patrol and Kat volunteered to give me a hand - after a kick in the shin.
​ “Know what?"

​ I gave her a look.

​ “Okay, your er," she motioned towards a certain spot on her chest, “You could see them get hard through your dress."

​ Sugar, if Kat saw I bet everyone else did too - so much for plan B.

​ “You're not wearing a BH are you?"
​ “Well all my plain ones are still in the drying room after England."
​ “I'll be right back."
​ “I thought you were helping?"
​ “I am, trust me."

​ About as far as I could throw her.
​
​ The custard, Soße Anglaise if you prefer, was almost ready when Kat returned, some help she's been.

​ “Where've you been?"
​ “Finding these," she waved something at me.
​ “And what exactly are they?"
​ “Every girls salvation in a clingy dress."
​ “Huh?"
​ “Pull your dress up."
​ “You what?"
​ “Pull your dress up, I need to stick these on."
​ “I should coco!"
​ “Well you do it then, its not like I’ve not seen your girls before."
​ “That was different," I shot back.
​ “If you say so," she sighed.

​ Well it was, has been, I mean, exposing a boob on the massage table is one thing but stripping in the kitchen, well I don't want to go there!

​ “You manage to stir this?" I asked.
​ “Er possibly, cooking's not my strong point."

​ No kidding.

​ “Just keep stirring it so it doesn't stick, if it starts boiling take it off the stove but keep bothering it."
​ “Yes captain."
​ “I'll be right back."
 
​ I plucked what turned out to be two of those square Elastoplast’s from her fingers and headed to the downstairs bathroom.

​Of course, I should've thought of it myself, we did the same thing for that body painting caper after the World's. It took a cold flannel and a couple of minutes to hide the offending bits and I must admit that it felt more comfortable straight away. I finished readjusting my dress on the way back to the kitchen.

​ “Everything okay?"
​ “I think so, it started to bubble so I did what you said."

​I took over the wooden spoon and checked the consistency - damn, too thick and maybe a bit lumpy even. Oh well, she tried. I poured it from pot to the warmed jug, scrapping he last bit straight into my maw.

​“Hmm, not bad," I allowed, “If you can take this and the dishes through, I’ll bring the crumble."
​  
​ We'd only been fifteen minutes tops making the custard and sorting out my, er little problem, but it was long enough that the vino had been flowing and the already merry mood was decidedly more convivial. I know I’m not great where alcohol is concerned but even so.

​ The crumble Mum had put together was one of my favourites, peach and rhubarb. Whilst the rhubarb was fresh the peaches were of the tinned variety which meant that the syrup, they come in had soaked through the crumble topping in places and caramelised. Now that's what I call proper crumble, none of this perfect topping and frankly, often dry texture, just pure unadulterated edible joy.
​
​ “Finally!" I shoved Max into the cloakroom.
​ “What're you doing?"

​ I looped my arms behind his neck and encouraged him against the wall.

​ “I've been waiting to do this for two weeks," I told him as I pulled his face towards me.
​ “Oh that, why didn't you mmph!"
​
​ After the initial rather enthusiastic round of tonsil hockey things subsided to a more leisurely pace. To be truthful, it just felt good to be held and whilst Max's hands did wander to my derriere, it was sort of reassuring.

​ “I missed you."
​ “Me too," he agreed.
​ “Thought you'd be with the harem."
​ “Well, you know what it's like, they all had commitments and Dad said it might not be polite to do stuff behind your back."
​ “You!" I gave him a smack on the rump.
​ “Well you did ask," he chuckled.
​ “You guys want coffee?" Manda asked through the door.

​ That set me into a round of giggling.

​ “Er yes please," Max replied trying but failing to shush me, “We'll be out in a minute."
​ “Fine," Mand replied with an amused tone to her voice.
​ “I suppose we should go out," my BF suggested once she'd moved away.
​ “Not yet," I complained.
​ “Yes yet," Max told me before moving in for one, or maybe two, last smooches.
​
​ “Lipstick," Mand stated when we found our way into the kitchen a few minutes later.
​ “Oh right," I giggled.
​ “You too Max," she added.

​ By the time Max was cleaned up and I'd reapplied some colour to my lips, Mand had the coffee ready. The three of us trooped through to the lounge, Max with the coffee jugs, Mand with crockery and I brought up the rear with the cream, sugar and, as we have company, a plate of after dinner mints.
​  
​ “Pretty good night," Dad allowed coming back indoors after seeing the von Strechau's off.
​ “Nightcap luv?" Mum enquired.
​ “Aye, why not, we're not off till after lunch tomorrow."
​ “Erm," I started.
​ “Yes, you're included," Mum suggested.

​ Well it wasn't what I was gonna say but I’ll not look a gift horse.

​ “Where's Manda?" Dad asked as we settled back into the lounge.
​ “Gone to bed."
​ “More for the rest of us," he observed as he rummaged through the bottles of liquor.
​ “Here you go," Mum returned bearing a tray of freshly washed shot glasses, “Where's Amanda?"
​ “Bed," Dad and I chorused.

​ Dad selected a bottle and poured three measures of his favourite Schnapps, each of us then taking one from the tray.

​ 'salute!"

​ I learnt after my first taste of the stuff that there's a reason you don't sip this stuff, the three of us slammed them back, Dad then refilling the glasses before resealing the bottle.

​ “Has Manda said anything to you Gabs?" Mum asked.
​ “Said?"
​ “You know kiddo, about England," Dad added.
​ “Not a lot."
​ “I know she says she and her mum have sort of made up but there's something still not right." Mum opined.
​ “You'd tell us if she said there was something wrong eh kiddo?" Dad pressed.
​ “I'm not your spy."
​ “We weren't suggesting you were luv, we're just concerned that she's maybe bottling stuff up that we could maybe help with," Mum soothed.
​ “I'm sure she'll say if there is."
​ “Okay, we'll not mention it again," Dad told me.
​ “Well I’m going up," I announced, “See you in the morning."
​ “Nite kiddo"
​ “G'nite munchkin."
​  
​ It was well after midnight but I still couldn't sleep. First it was the stuff with Manda's mum - I mean that's really shitty. And then, and then my parents want me to spy on her - well not spy exactly but next best thing. The annoying thing is, they're sort of right, she does need help but it's not my place to tell them what I know.

​ Why is life so complicated? Complicated and unfair and Mand seems to be getting more than her fair share of the shitty end of the stick at the moment. I turned my thoughts to happier themes; I was no sooner fantasising about doing stuff with Max than I was gone.
 
© Maddy Bell 30.06.2019