The food Angela had waiting for us this evening was a bit less rabbit although sadly lacking the red meat I found myself hoping for. No, instead it was some sort of fish mixed in with the pasta shells, sweetcorn and other unidentified salad stuff. I guess it wasn't so bad but its not food for a growing girl is it?

Without any dramas or race planning it was comparatively early when Dad indicated it was departure time.

“Good luck in England guys!” I called into the lounge.
"And you,” Claire offered in return.
"Forty euros,” Cav added.
"What about us?” Tal mumped.
"Well I'll be seeing you on Thursday.”
"Oh yeah,” she agreed.

I dunno, you just can't get the team mates these days!

"So what was that about with Mark?” Mand queried as we settled into the back seat.

Angela's up front as she's coming to Bavaria and needs to go home first, Dads running her up in the morning so she's staying at ours tonight.

"Apparently they're betting on me winning on Friday.”
"No pressure!”
"I guess I've got a reasonable chance.”
"Trust Cav to put money on it, what about the road race?”
"Apparently I'm less of a cert for that.”
"Au contrare, I'd put money on you.”
"Thanks for your confidence, there's that Bavarian though, don't think I've ever raced against her before.”
"Pah! If she was that good she'd be racing the Jungere League.”
"I guess,” I allowed.
"What are you two mumbling about?” Dad asked as we crossed old Father Rhein.
"Nothing,” I suggested.
"The mystery Bavarian,” Mand told him.
"Hardly a mystery,” he observed.
"Well how come we've never raced her then?”
"She lives in America,” Dad told us.
"America? And she comes back just to ride the championships?”
"Why doesn't she do the American ones?” Mand queried.
“Different rules over there I guess,” Pater suggested.
"Its a bit off,” I proposed.
"No more than if you'd gone to England,” Angela opined.

I suppose she has a point.

"I guess.”

In my head she looks like Heidi but I revised that to a female Lance, all teeth and hair – guess I get to see the real thing at the weekend.

"Make sure you're packed when I get home this evening,” Dad instructed.
"Really? We're not going until tomorrow,” I complained.
"We need to collect the others on the way to the airport so tonight please.”
"Yes Dad,” I sighed before heading down to collect my transport.
"Bye Gaby,” Angela offered.
"Yeah, laters!”

"Hello, anyone in?”
I jerked to attention, "Oh sorry Con, what?”
“Geez Gab, you're on a different planet today.”
"Sorry.”
"I asked if you wanted coffee?”
"Er yeah, please.”
"So what's the big distraction, can't be Max with that face.”
"Nah, its this weekend in Bayern, did I tell you the Brits are betting on me?”
“Like with the Defer?” she asked starting my beverage brewing.
"That sort of thing,” I agreed.
"Are they allowed to do that?”
"Oh its only between themselves but its like extra pressure.”
"You want my advice?”
"Why not,” I allowed with a sigh.
"Just do your best.”
"That it?”
She shrugged, "What more do you want, one of those game plan things? I'm not your coach.”

To be honest her input was about as sensible as anything anyone else has said this week. I mean its not that I don't want to win, I do its just all the other baggage that is being hung on my performance. Yeah maybe if I just treat it as another race instead of building it up to this monstrous achievement, it'll hardly be the end of the world not to win will it?

"So what are you doing tonight?” Max enquired around a mouthful of fried potato – boys!
“Dunno, washing my hair?”
"You don't fancy the vineyards then?”
"I have to pack for the weekend,” I moaned.
"Won't take all night will it?”
“Guess not,” I agreed.
"Meet you at seven thirty then?”
I quickly ran things through the timeline in my head, ride home, pack, cook dinner, "You could come for dinner?”
"Really?”
"The rents aren't stupid Max, we could eat then 'go for a walk'.”
"I guess.”
"I'm doing shepherds pie?”
“Go on then, what time?”
"We'll eat at seven so a bit before?” I suggested.
"Sounds cool.”

"I sense a nose ring session tonight,” Kris posited.
"Might be,” I allowed.
"You can't fool us,” Con grinned.
"Oh Maxxie, we can have a snog.” Kris started off in a squeaky voice before switching to a deeper tone, "Only if you wear the ring, anything for you Maxxie!”
"I do not sound like that! and I don't always wear the ring.”
"You will tonight,” Con surmised.
"Might do,” I allowed.
"Next she'll be dressing up for him,” the hired help suggested.
"Will not!”
"So what's he want you to wear?” Con chased.
"The Garde uniform?”
"O M G, that is so pervy!”
"Weird,” Con added.
"Well its not happening anyway, he gets me as I come.”
"But preferably with the nose ring,” Con smirked.

Once home I got the food sorted and in the oven before going up to pack for the weekend. Packing, yeah, not exactly my strong point. I pulled out my case and started to pull everything together for three days in deepest Bavaria.

I heaved the case downstairs to the sound of my parents and boyfriend entering the house.

"All packed kiddo?” Dad enquired.
"If its not in there its not going.”
"Bike shoes? Knickers?” Mum suggested.

Okay, I've forgotten both in the past.

"Inside,” I stated, “dress for dinner, spare sports BH, mitts, skin suit, bibs.”
"I'll check it after dinner,” Mater advised, "I don't trust your packing.”
"So when's dinner?” Dad asked.
I checked my watch, "Ten minutes? Its shepherds pie.”
"I'll set the table then.”
"Put the wine glasses out Dave, we'll have a bottle of red with it,” Mum told us.

Hmm, wine, nice!

"Anything I can do?” Max queried.
"Take the plates through and help Dad?”

It might be summer but that doesn't mean you eat salad all the time, well not in our house at any rate. I checked the pan before flash boiling the veggies, very trad peas, carrots and cauliflower. The dish was out of the oven, the veg decanted to dishes, something's missing – ah, gravy – kettle on then.

"Ready?” Mum enquired from the doorway.
"Just doing some gravy.”
"Smells good.”
"You could take some stuff through?”
"Yes boss.”

Well she could've cooked tonight, I seem to land the job most of the time these days, Jules is hardly here, Mand can burn water, Dad would do something on toast all the time and Mum's not home much either and tries to avoid the job.

"Mmm!” Max supplied, "That was brill Gabs.”
"A girl of many talents,” Mum opined.
"Its hardly rocket science,” I pointed out.
"Well I wouldn't know where to start,” Dad admitted.
"I guess you could make it on toast,” I chuckled.
"I can do more than toast,” Dad huffed.
"Beans?” I suggested.
"Huh!”

Max sniggered into his glass.

"So what's your speciality Max?” Mum enquired.
"Pasta?”
"Po, carbonnara, bolognese?”
"Er no, just the pasta, you know boil the water and put the pasta in?”
"As bad as you Dave,” Mum grinned, "You'll have to give him some lessons Gab or you'll be stuck in the kitchen.”
"Mu-um!” I complained.
"Just kidding Princess.”
"Mu-um!”

They'll have me married off and tied to the stove before the summers out at this rate.

"Any pud?” Dad queried.
I hadn't planned on it but there is some rice pud in the fridge, "Custard and rice?”
"Ooh, sign me up,” Mum gleefully stated.
"Custard and rice?” Max queried.
"Food of the goods,” Dad told him, "Pass your plate lad.”

Maddy Bell © 11.08.17