“Wasn’t sure you’d be here tonight,” Han proffered as we tidied up after cheer.
“Why not?”
“Didn’t you have some big race at the weekend?”
“Yeah?” I allowed, “the National championships, so?”
“So how did you get on? Did you win?”
“Might of,” I teased.
“You can be so frustrating Gaby Bond.”
“Wonder Woman won both her races,” Pia put in from behind me.
“P, your no fun,” I complained.
“Well you were gonna drag it out another five minutes,” she pointed out.
“You won two races?” Hannah queried for clarification.
“Uh huh.”
“Good job too, I won twenty euros in the pool,” Pia chuckled.
“You bet on me?”
“Well it’s hardly a gamble is it?”
“What if I hadn’t won?”
“Bridg would be twenty up,” she shrugged.

Han chuckled as I spluttered.

“So you wanting a lift or what Bond? Dad’s here,” my ‘friend’ enquired.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “see you Friday Han.”
“Nite girls.

I can’t believe they had a book on me, or that Bridg has so little confidence in me.

With the Sebenschuh taxi taking me down the valley it was gonna be a pizza free night and to be honest what I actually fancied was a mucky curry like we used to get in Warsop. You know the sort of thing, chunks of meat and onion in a glutinous green sauce, usually with egg fried rice. I’m sure its not good for you but sometimes, well I just fancy something bad – well badder than a plate of pommes.

“That you Gab?” Dad called out.
“Yeah,” I agreed as I kicked off my trainers in the hall, “ Mand back?”
“I’m here Champ,” de Vreen’s voice advised.
“Cool Champ,” I shot back as I entered the lounge, still pulling off my socks.

Mand jumped up and we shared a hug.

“Loose the socks Gab,” she suggested wafting the air in front of her face.
“Oh right, soz,” I launched the offending foot coverings back into the hallway out of smell reach.
“i hope you’re going to pick those up,” Dad intoned.
“Yeah,” I replied, “so what time did you get back Mand?”
“God, what a nightmare Gabs, flippin’ French fishermen blockaded Calais so we diverted to Dunkirk so then we had to queue to get unloaded which took forever and then...”
“There’s more?”
“Oh yeah, total nightmare, there was a big smash on the Brussels Ring so Caroline turned off to go round and we got lost in Brussels, I’m sure we went past the same church three times. So anyway we ended up on the wrong road, by the time we realised we were well on the way to Luxembourg so we ended up coming along the Mosel.”
“Best get Caro a satnav thing for Chrimbo eh Dad?” I suggested.
“Well the main thing is that you did get back even if it was late,” Dad noted.
“We were beginning to wonder at one point,” Mand admitted.

After we got settled with our hot chocolate it was time for the ‘chat’.

“So what’s going on Mr B, it was like them and us in Kent.”
“Typical BC,” Dad sighed, “both feet and all in one box.”
“Dad?”
“Okay girls, BC have, for reasons I’m not au fait with, decided to change the whole junior programme, they’re dumping the road programme altogether in favour of the track.”
“They can’t do that!” I cried out.
“Thats not fair,” Mand added.
Dad shrugged, “its been on the cards since the spring, we’ve been arguing with the board all year.”
“So its a done deal?” I asked.
“Pretty much,” he admitted.
“So what about us and the guys at Neuwied?” Mand was remarkably calm.
“Chris told me that they’d be offering everyone the chance to join this ‘podium’ scheme.”
“No one’s said anything to me,” Mand noted.
“Or me,” I added.

Dad’s silence at that point said a lot.

“They’re dumping me aren’t they? I’ll have to go home,” Mand suggested, a tear forming in her eye.
“Chris doesn’t think you’d fit into what they are setting up at Manchester Mand, his words not mine.”
“So I just get dumped?”
“Not if I can help it, BC might be changing focus but Apollinaris isn’t,” Dad told her.
“What about me? They can’t just drop their best riders can they?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Dad admitted, ”Gab there was a reason you raced in Bavaria this weekend, the German federation are keen to support you but on the condition you race for them.”
“I know we live here and stuff but I am English Dad,” I pointed out.
“You race on a German licence kiddo which is how we sorted this weekend.”
“You knew about this at New Years?” I accused.
“There were rumours,” he admitted, “so I covered all the bases.”
“But i’ve raced for BC this year, so how can I ride for Germany?”
“You change passports,” Mand proposed.
“Dad?”
“Mand’s right kiddo, we get you a ‘passport of convenience’, the FDF will sort most of that out.”
“So i’ll be German?”
“Gab, I hate to tell you,” Mand started, “if I didn’t know I’d think you were anyway.”

Dad just gave me a look.

“You could’ve at least asked me.”
“And you fancy moving to Manchester and spend all day, everyday going round the velodrome?”
“Well no,” I allowed.
“So your parents made the right decision?” he prompted.
“Probably, it would still have been nice to be in the conversation, I am sixteen you know.”
“We thought you had enough on your plate already.”
“So what happens now Mr B?” Mand asked.
“Your funding is secure lass so don’t go worrying yourself but apart from Gaby’s paperwork not a lot. The house is funded through to September so we should be on for Spain still. As far as the Worlds are concerned, Chris is funding a road team so I think you’ll be going Mand, after that Caroline and possibly Darren will be looking for work.”
“Bum,” I sighed.
“But Caroline’s a really good coach,” Mand opined.
“A coach without riders i’m afraid,” Dad stated.
“What are the others doing, Mark and Jamie and that?”
“I don’t know kiddo, I honestly don’t know.”
“Its not fair, things were starting to get good, we even won at the Worlds last year,” Mand sniffed.
“Look, there’s nothing we can do to change things, we’ll find a way through this.”

“What do you think’s gonna happen?” Mand asked from beside me.

We’d reconvened in her room after bidding Dad good night and changing into our PJ’s.

“Dunno, Dad must be gutted too, he’s put a lot of effort into the BC juniors.”
“But he’ll still have his job at Appolinaris?”
“I guess,” I agreed.
“Who do you think’ll go to Manchester?”
“Dunno, I guess if they want to ride for Team GB they’ll all have to.”
“Where’s that leave me, I won’t be on the squad or anything.”
“Guess you’ll just have to get some results they can’t ignore.”
“its alright for you, your Dad’s got you all sorted, my rents couldn’t care a monkey.”

What could I say? Yeah I’m all sorted by doing a Zola but Mand, well she hasn’t got that option, she’s become the victim of politics within BC.

“Gab?”
“Hmm?”
“is it all worth it? You know, racing and stuff?”
“Dunno, I always dreamt of riding the Tour, you know, all the crowds, the famous climbs, finishing on the Champs but I guess that's not gonna happen now.”
“But you’re still racing.”
“I guess I realised that it wasn’t all about that one race, I could still be a success even if I am a girl.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a girl.” Mand pointed out.
“I know, but this time last year, well I wanted to be a boy, to have the Tour and stuff as possibilities. Anyhow, I’m still ticking the boxes, did I tell you Gertie Schmidt came and did a piece at the kiosk again?”
“No, when was this?”
“Today – bum missed it, she said it was going out tonight.”
“You’re on that programme nearly as much as she is.”
“Am not,” I countered, “what about you, why do you race?”

She thought a minute or so before answering, “it started out as something to get me out of the house I guess but getting on the squad, doing those races, well I realised it might be a career if I got good enough. Lets face it, I’ll be lucky to scrape C’s in my GCSE’s unlike someone I know so my options are somewhat limited that way, I’d probably end up in a shop or an office doing some drudgy job.”
“Someone has to do them.”
“Yeah but not yours truly, this is my chance to do something with my life, if they asked me I’d jump at Manchester.”
“You would?”
“Its not Croydon,” she stated.
“Its not Dernau either, its a pisser but I don’t think I could stick it.”
“But you were really good when we were there last year.”
“It was a bit of fun Mand, can you imagine doing that every day? It wouldn’t be like last year, I’d be bored to tears in no time – and it always rains in Manchester.”
“True,” my bedmate agreed, “I know your Dad said my funding was sorted for this year but what then?”
“Get a rich boyfriend?”
“You’ve got that market cornered too bitch.”
“He isn’t that rich.”
“Richer than me,” she sighed.
I turned over and pulled her into a hug, “it’ll work out Mand, we’ll make it.”
“I hope so Gab, I don’t think I could bear going back to mums.”

Maddy Bell © 07.10.2017