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?

 
Saturday morning and after several pleasant if grey days that were at least dry, the bit of drizzle that started while I was at Garde has developed into an insistent if not hard downpour that looks set to hang around, according to RTL, until 'late' afternoon. Mand's off to the velodrome with Dad, I guess I could've gone along but to be honest, riding around in small circles all day has never been my favourite pastime even if i've had a little success in the past. No for me its the open road or possibly field that sparks my enthusiasm and this weather puts the kibosh on any real outside activity.

"What're you up to today kiddo?” Mater enquired when I slipped into the kitchen for Frühstuck.
"Not sure,” I admitted, "I was gonna go for a longish ride but I'm not riding in this.”
"Nor should you, you could come to the gym with me?”

I selected the least stale of the brötchen that were left and set about making a sandwich.

"Think I'll pass.”
"You really should do some cross training Gab.”
"Doesn't Cheer and Garde count?”
"You can't quantify what you're doing with that stuff.”

I slathered the two sides of the roll with butter and started to load it up.

"Do you need to? I mean, I know i've been stretching and stuff afterwards, I can feel the burn.”
"So what are you going to do then?”
"Turbo I guess,” I concluded adding a slice of tomato to the stack of meat and cheese.
"Well don't go silly with it.”
"I won't.”

To be honest, a turbo session, at least a long turbo session ranks somewhere between listening to Bing Crosby and plucking my eyebrows and only just above the velodrome. But I do need to do some riding and given the weather, well its the lesser evil. I took my time over breakfast but there's no point in putting it off, sooner or later it has to be done and sooner means I can do other stuff, the Kabin might be closed most of the time at the moment but I did promise the Thesing's i'd catch up on the paperwork.
 

My 'turbo bike' was already set up so once I was dressed in bra and bibshorts I put the radio on high volume, draped a towel over the bars and set to. Today should've been an endurance ride so rather than notch up to a frenetic pace and start an intense workout, I dialled it back a bit, setting a steady tempo effort on a low resistance. The Oma music, if I follow the tempo, simulates the vagaries of a road ride and reduces the boredom a bit, even so, after thirty minutes I was getting a bit cheesed off with the incessant humm and the by now, near constant trickle of sweat rolling between my breasts.

The second half of the hour long session was tedious to say the least, I found myself easing off as I searched the basement for inspiration. No good, no good at all and i've got some cyclo cross lined up with Anita in a couple of weeks. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and sort of got back into the zone, even stepping my effort up over the last few minutes.

I clambered off on jellied legs needing the loo and almost took my eye out by walking into a hanging bike. Not just any bike but the Deco bike that i've got on loan from the German Federation, the machine I'm supposed to be using to hone some control skills. I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but first the loo.
 

The garage is quite high and I'm not exactly tall which means that unless I try jumping up, there's height enough to stand atop the weird bike. I cleared the middle of the floor, one thing you do need is open space, then ran upstairs to change into some more appropriate and warmer kit. Suitably attired in the stuff I use for cheer practice I returned to the bike lair, got the bike down off its hook and got started.

Or rather didn't. My head knew what to do but convincing arms and legs to comply was another thing. After falling off for a fourth time I decided to go back to the very basics we'd been shown at the taster session. I guess if you do it regularly enough it becomes second nature, i've not exactly been clamouring to master the arts of bike gymnastics so its hardly a surprise I'm back at square one.

I started on the exercises as best as I could remember them and fifteen minutes later I wasn't falling off and indeed i'd got the bike circling the really too small space that I had clear. Confidence bolstered, I moved on to going backwards, sitting on the handlebar and in a rash moment, standing on the bars which lasted about two seconds before I had to bale!

I remember watching Hooch and his mates at the skatepark when I was on the exchange trip, they were pretty good with the tricks and a lot of what I was trying to do is the same stuff just on a much bigger bike. Bigger means further from the floor and when you're a short arse like I am, well its a definate incentive not to fall off. I won't say it was pretty but I worked out a sort of mini routine which linked a few moves together and on the fourth attempt I actually got through the bike rotate and step off without ending up under the bike!

When I heard a car outside and checked the clock it was after twelve, i'd been farting around for nearly two hours.

"Hello, you down there kiddo?” Mum enquired from above.
"Yep,” I confirmed as I executed what, in my mind was an elegant dismount but in the real world was a rather inelegant affair just short of disaster.
I was still unwrapping myself when Mum arrived in the bike cave, "What are you up to?”
"Thought i'd try the Deco bike thing.”
"Sooner you than me,” she allowed watching as I disentangled myself, "You been doing that all morning?”
"Pretty much, since I finished on the turbo anyhow.”
"Well just be careful, we don't want any more broken bones.”
"Wasn't planning on any.”
"We never do,” Mum pointed out, "Well I'm gonna make a brew if you're interested?”
"Sure,” I enthused, "Just need to sort this stuff out, I'll be about...”
"Five minutes,” she finished for me.
 

"Poached egg on toast?” Mater enquired when I arrived in the kitchen.
"Er sure, the tea mashing?”
"In the pot, I was just about to sort out the crockery.”
"I'll do it,” I volunteered – well I'm being fed so fair's fair.

"So you think the trick cycling is useful?”
"Well its more fun than reps in the gym,” I told her.
"I'll agree that gym work is low on my fun list.”
I shovelled, I mean daintily placed another fork full of egg and bread into my mouth before continuing, "Its good for balance.”
"Well I don't think I'll be trying it at my time of life,” Mater opined.
"I bet you could,” I challenged.
"I'm not saying I couldn't but I prefer to be in firmer contact with the ground.”
 

Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng.

"Manda, Gaby, can one of you get that please?” Dad suggested when the house phone started to ring after dinner – chicken stew tonight.

Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng.

"Gaby?”
"Okay, I'm going,” I groaned in reply as I dried my hands.

Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng.

"Abend, Bond residenz, Gaby sprechen,” I offered down the line.
"Hi Gaby, is your Dad there, or your Mum?”

I recognised the voice straight away, the slight West Country lilt of Gramps Bond.

"Hi Gramps, thanks for the Christmas money.”
"My pleasure Munchkin, is Mum or Dad there?”
"Er sure, I'll shout Dad.,” I cover the mouthpiece and gave a summoning yell, "Da-ad, its Gramps.”
"Coming,” he replied from somewhere inside the family room.
"He's coming Gramps, so how's Burnham today? Its been lagging it down here.”
"Don't think its rained, i've been inside most of the day.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder, "Dad's here, love to Nanna, bye Gramps.”
"Bye Gaby,” he told me before I passed the phone to Dad.

"What did your Grandfather want?” Mum asked when I returned to the kitchen where she was loading the dishwasher.
"Didn't say.”
"Well you'll never make a detective,” she suggested.

Its impolite to listen in other peoples phone calls, not that I'm immune to a bit of eavesdropping but after the initial exchange of greetings, Dad's voice had lowered so whilst we could hear that he was talking, what it was about remained a mystery.
 

The German edition of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire', Wer wird Millionär? Was in full swing on the goggle box before Dad joined the rest of us in the lounge. Not that I'm a fan you understand but the alternative was a badly dubbed edition of 'The Bill' which we all mutually detest.

"Everything okay Luv?” Mum enquired.
Dad answered as he sat himself down, "Not really, they've got Mum in Weston General again.”
"The same thing?” Mum queried.

What 'same' thing? I know Nanna has had a couple of 'funny turns' but no one has ever said precisely what the issue is.

"Dad thinks so, they were in Sainsbury's this time.”
"Do we need to go over?” Mum quizzed.
"Dad says not to, they won't have the test results until tomorrow and Kath's gonna stay over,” Dad advised.
"We should be prepared, I'll check on flights,” Mum stated.
"There might be something to Bristol,” Dad suggested.
"What's wrong with Nanna?” I asked.

My parents exchanged one of those 'should we tell her' looks.

"I'm not a baby,” I pointed out.
Dad gave a sigh, "Your Nan's got a bad chest kiddo.”
"Asthma right, i've seen her puffer thing.”
"Its a bit more than just asthma kiddo, she's got Ventrical and Pulmonary dementia, she gets a bit short of breath and this time of year with colds and viruses going round, well it doesn't help.”
"She's going to be alright though?”

Look, I know she's a bit of a Hyacinth Bucket with all her airs and graces but she's still my Nanna.

There was another one of those looks between the Olds, "They haven't got her in the ICU so thats a good thing,” Dad suggested.

Even I could tell it was a hedged reply and talk of flying over to England, well it doesn't bode well does it.

"I'll check those flights,” Mum told us.
 

Of course, come bedtime, after an evening of parental phone calls and for me, half understood statements of facts, whilst tired, I couldn't get to sleep. Earlier advice 'not to worry' from my parents of course had the opposite effect, all I could think about was Nanna. My head went through all sorts of scenarios before moving on to death and funerals – not even Nanna's even, just a bizarre collage of scenes subconsciously plucked from TV and film, at one point I was stood at a funeral service in my Weltmeisterin skinsuit waiting for a vampire to rise which I then staked – I know, go figure, too much Buffy I guess.

Death, whilst never very far away from any of us, is something that has rarely touched my life. I never knew Grandpa Peters though I have seen photos of him of course, Claudia's passing is the only person i've actually known who's died. Even then I was remote from things and we were in Japan when they had the funeral, yep, my experience of death and mortality is pretty much all secondhand or fictional.
 

"The stage will be over there,” Herr Thesing told us, motioning with his arm.
"What about the tables and chairs?” I queried.
"We'll put the tables in the bin store and stack the chairs behind the Kabin, we can get them out after your concert if we need to.”
"I can't believe this is really happening,” Con stated.

The full Kabin management, well minus Frau Thesing who's running the Backerie today, are up in Altenahr making sure everything is set for our debut concert. By next weekend there'll be a higher fence, the stage, a portaloo and apparently some sort of lighting rig covering our tiny domain.

"The posters are brill, very professional,” I enthused.
"Well lets hope they work,” Herr T mused.
"Dad, with the Pink Pixie on them, we'll be fighting people off!” Con stated.
"Pink Pixie? You can go off people,” I huffed.
"Well you have to admit Gabs, your hair does look really pink on there.”
"It was the lighting,” I suggested.

Will I ever live that pink hair down? Its what, seven months ago now and there's still a pinkish tinge to my Barnet although my natural blonde now lessens the impact somewhat.

"So you gonna wow us with some fancy stage costume?” my BFF queried as we drove back down to Dernau.
"Don't know about fancy.”
"But you have got an outfit right?” she pressed.
"I thought i'd wear jeans and my Kabin shirt.”
"Seriously?” Thesing gasped.
"Geez Con, what do you take me for? Course i've got an outfit.”
"So?”
"Ut uh, not telling.”
"Spoilsport,” she pouted.
"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you.”
Con grunted, "Guess I can wait.”
 

"There's a message on the pad Gab,” Mand told me when I got back home.
“'kay.”I finished de-wintering then picked up the phone pad.

'ring Stefan about next week'

Short, sweet and not very enlightening.

"Did he say what?”
"Something about the set?” de Vreen apparently guessed.

Now what?

"Stefan, its Gaby, you left a message?”

Call me paranoid but I retreated to my eyrie before ringing the BlauHase frontman.

"Erdbeer, how's the voice?”
"Fair to middling.”
"Excellent.”
"Mand said something about next week's set?” I prompted.
"How do you feel about doing a couple of new numbers?”
"I'm not doing Slayer,” I stated firmly.
"Yeah, I think that might be a bit of a stretch, thought we might do 'We are the Champions' and there's a new one me and the boys have been working on.”
"Nothing raspy?”
"Not raspy,” Stefan confirmed, "So?”
"I can give the#m a go.”
"Great,” he enthused, "I'll email you the files and the lyrics this afternoon.”
"Okay.”
"Have a listen, give me a call later yeah?”
"Sure, tschussie.”
"Later.”

Great, so with a week before the gig i've got two new songs to learn, well one and a bit, I do sort of know the Queen lyrics, WATC is on my internal training playlist. But what's this new Blauhase number gonna be like?
 

“....I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
I thank you all

We are the champions, my friends...”1

"Gab,” Mand called up the stairs to Camp Gabrielle, "Put a sock in it!”
I hit mute on the music player, "What?”
"Can you keep it down a bit, I'm trying to read.”
"I was practising for next week.”
"Sounded like a sack of cats,” she taunted.
"Huh! I'm an artiste.”
"If you say so, can you at least not have it at eleven?”

Okay, maybe warbling away at top volume is a bit unnecesary, I'm only learning the proper lyrics after all. Now tomorrow its the new BlauHase number, not sure how that's gonna go – the file Stefan sent over sounds sort of okay but the lyrics don't make a lot of sense. Oh well, tomorrow.

"I'll keep it down,” I promised.
"When the Queen of Rock has done,” Mums voice joined the fray, "Dinner'll be ready in about ten minutes.”
“'kay!”

Time for another run through, I reset the player and hit the go button.

"I've paid my dues
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through

We are the champions, my friends
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions of the world....”

 
© Maddy Bell 20.07.2019