Whatever Next? Chapter 15 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

“Have you been drinking?” Josie asked her elder grandchild.

“Who me?” asked Jules swaying slightly.

“Yes you, who did you think I meant?”

“It could have been Muddy or Draby. Oops!” she laughed at her own mistake, “I got their names mixed up, ha ha!” Off she went again laughing.

“I think you’d better have a good drink of water and go to bed before you fall over.”

“I think, I’ve had enough to drink already Gran, hee hee.”

“Drink some water it’ll help stop you dehydrating.”

“I’ll be alright, honestly,” she swayed and held onto the sink to steady herself.

Drew looked on in disappointment at his sister’s antics and Maddy looked quite annoyed with her. Jules turned unsteadily, “What you lookin’ at?” she snapped at Drew.

“Nothing.”

“Nah me I’m a something, I’m a girl and know it. You’re the nothing, let me know when you decide.”

“When I decide what?”

“Whether you’re a boy or a girl,” she hiccupped and staggered up the stairs.

Drew felt his eyes mist over with tears, he’d had a good evening and along comes his sister obviously the worse for wear and spoils it with one sentence.

“I shall have words with her tomorrow,” said Carol through clenched teeth.

“She can apologise to Gaby tomorrow too, or she is grounded,” said Josie tersely.

“Oh she’s grounded alright, her response tomorrow will determine whether it’s just for weeks or a life sentence.” Carol turned and went back to the sink.

“Serves her right, how dare she say that to you, Gabs,” Maddy said touching Drew on the shoulder.

“She never could hold her liquor,” said Drew sniffing back his tears, “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.”

“She’d better not have, or she’ll have me to deal with,” said Maddy.

This confused Drew even more. She’d spent the whole evening being mean to him, especially over Harry, then she supports him against his sister. Just what was she up to?

They spent an hour or so watching television and then finally the two teens went to bed, shortly followed by the older women. Drew was dreading it, Jules always snored if she had been drinking and he couldn’t see the attraction of drink anyway, it was something that made people do stupid things, and most people were stupid enough without it.

He went to the bathroom and cleaned his teeth, then let himself into their shared bedroom. Jules was lying on her back doing an impression of a formula one race. Drew undressed and was tempted to drop one of his socks into her open orifice whilst saying, ‘Put a sock in it.’ That made him laugh and his chuckling made his sister turn on to her side whereupon the noise quietened to that of the average motorway. He thought if it got too bad he’d sneak downstairs and sleep on the couch.

He got into bed, switched off the light and listened to his MP3 player, yeah, the sound was as good as before and in a short time he was asleep himself lulled into somnolence by the voices of Cheryl Crow and Christina Aguila.

He probably dreamt that night but he couldn’t recall any of them, so when he awoke the next morning it was pretty refreshed and rested. However, Jules was not in the same mood, in fact, she felt decidedly unwell. Drew, not being vindictive, but neither was he sympathetic moved about with perhaps a little more noise than usual and the banging of the bedroom door was essential, wasn’t it?

“If you do that once more, so help me, I’ll kill you Dr..erm Gaby, ouch my head.”

“Don’t shout at me and wait until Auntie Carol gets finished with you. You’ll be lucky to see John before you leave school.”

“Why, oh God, what did I say?”

“I think she’ll remind you. See ya later, oh do you want some crispy bacon and sausages for breakfast, with runny eggs and…”

“Oh shit, I feel sick, get away from me you horrible child, go away! Oh my head.”

Drew laughed as he went downstairs for his breakfast, he thought he’d get away from the house while the court martial was in progress, he didn’t enjoy seeing a scene and he was sure Jules would cause one. While he ate, he asked Maddy if she wanted to go out anywhere.

“Like where?”

“I dunno, I’ll give Harry a ring and see if he wants to go for a ride if you like.”

“Nah, I don’t wanna play gooseberry with you two.”

Carol sniggered as she made herself toast. It seemed a surreal morning. The sun was shining and the birds were singing and here were two teenagers bickering like little girls, one of whom was a boy supposedly, and another lay on her deathbed upstairs, with whom she was due a heavy chat. She fortified herself with another round of the charred bread and sat down with the bickering ‘girls’.

“What have you got against Harry?”

“Nuthin’ why?”

“You must have, you niggled away at me yesterday any time I mentioned his name.”

“Meeeeee! Huh! No, I didn’t.”

“Yes you did Maddy, I heard you at least once,” Carol said in between bites of toast.

“Huh! Everyone is against me today. You’d think I could count on my mother, huh!” She got up and stormed away from the kitchen in a real sulk.

Carol and Drew looked at each other, she rolled her eyes and he shrugged his shoulders. He was about to say, ‘girls’ when he remembered he was supposed to be one too. So he said nothing.

He finished his breakfast and helped Carol with the washing up, thinking it might be useful to get some brownie points in credit. “Can I ring Harry?”

“What did you have in mind to do?”

“Dunno, go for a ride maybe?”

“In those clothes?”

Drew looked down at himself, he was wearing his pink top and denim skirt, and his painted toenails sparkled from his sandals, matching his fingers. “Erm, I can always change.”

“You can go on your bike if Harry goes with you, you’re not to go out alone.”

“Yes, Auntie Carol, the police did say they thought he was on the continent somewhere.”

“It’s not just that thug, Gaby, a young woman has to be careful wherever she is, and I’m not happy if you’re out on your own.”

“But, Auntie Carol, how am I supposed to train if I can’t go alone? The only danger I’m in is from traffic and that’s the same for a boy as a girl.”

“Gaby, I am responsible for you while we are down here. It was your choice to come. You, therefore, have to cope with the consequences.”

“But, Auntie Carol…”

“Don’t whine, Gaby, be thankful you’re allowed out at all, your sister is going to have to do some penance for her behaviour last night.”

Drew decided he’d quit while he was ahead and went to phone Harry.

“I’d love to come for a ride, but I’ve got a slow puncture, can’t find the bloody thing.”

“Haven’t you got a spare tube?”

“I’ve used it already.”

“I always have several in the garage.” As Drew said this he realised why he had a garage full of them – because Dave bought them in packs of five or ten. He’d only had to buy a tube once when he was out and realised he didn’t have a spare with him. He was miffed at coughing up four quid for a tube, but it was a Bontrager, and it had lasted a year or two.

Even then the bloke in the bike shop had called him, ‘Miss’ and he was as flat-chested as a …, well maybe not and he did have a helmet on he’d borrowed from his mum, which had ‘Jenny Bond’ written on the sides. He’d broken one dropping it when they were loading the bike on the car. It fell on the road and broke the plastic covering and Dad made him chuck it. His spare helmet, the one with his name on it, ‘Drewbie’, was still soaking wet from the heavy shower he’d encountered the day before. Oh well, if the worst thing that happens is people think I’m a girl, I suppose life can’t be too bad. It would be worse if I was a girl and they thought I was a boy. Ugh!

“You still there Gabs?”

“Yeah, I was trying to think if I had another spare with me. I’m sure Dad put in a couple with my tool kit.”

“If you have, that’d be great.”

“I’ll go and look. Tell you what, if necessary you can have my spare and we’ll go down to Matt’s shop.”

“Good idea. See you soon then.”

“Bye.”

Drew went into the garage, there was quite a bit of bike stuff piled up and he sorted through it. Somehow, he couldn’t find the spare tubes, damn, he’d have to buy one now. The amount he rode a bike, one wasn’t enough especially when it was on Harry’s wheel.

He went and changed, glad he’d brought his cycling stuff out of the bedroom, where it sounded like the riot act was being read by Carol and Josie to the hapless Jules.

Ten minutes and a fresh coat of lip gloss later, the pink-clad boy cycled down to Harry’s house. He had his backpack-type handbag with him, so he had money, tissues, and makeup with him, the essentials for any bike ride, ask Lance Armstrong!

Drew watched, his pink gloved hands tucked under his folded arms while Harry clumsily changed his inner tube. Drew didn’t do it that often, but Dad made sure he could do it proficiently. His biggest problem was squeezing the tyre back onto the rim. It was easy for men, they had stronger, bigger fingers he always had to use a lever.

“No, pump it up a little, you’ll pinch the tube.” He said loudly to Harry, the latter was about to start putting the tyre back before part inflating the tube.

“What for, I’m gonna pump the whole bloody thing up in a minute.”

“If you partly inflate the tube it helps to stop the risk of pinching it as you put the tyre back on, ‘cos it’s not flat anymore.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that.”

While Harry fiddled with the tyre, Drew picked up the old tube and the pump. He inflated it and listened as he moved it slowly past his ear. He rubbed some spit on the valve, which although tightened blew small bubbles.

“The valve’s gone. Can’t do anything about that with Prestas.”

“How did I miss that?” asked Harry, in slight awe of his more experienced girlfriend.

“Did you stick it in a bucket of water?”

“Yeah, although I’m not sure if I actually put the valve in the water.”

“You’re gonna have to buy another. Get one from Matt now and then buy the rest off the net, it’s cheaper. It’s what my dad does.”

“Good idea, anyway I need two, one to replace yours’ an’ a spare.”

“If I buy one today, you can order some off the net and give it to me later.”

“Hey, that’s a good idea, Gabs, not just beautiful, eh?” he paused while he easily pressed the tyre back on the rim, the bit with which Drew always struggled. Then he looked at Drew seriously. “That means you have to spend out for a new tube at the full price.”

“So?”

“So that’s not fair.”

“It’s only about four quid.”

“Why don’t I buy both of them?”

“Why don’t you pump up the tyre and let’s go before Matt retires himself.” Men, thought Drew to himself, then blushed a little. He was on a dangerous slope, much more of this and there’d be little of the boy left on him, it would be swamped entirely by Gaby.

They rode through the village and down towards Weymouth and Matt’s shop. As always the two men made a big fuss of Gaby and Matt did them a special offer on the tubes, so they bought five between them. Drew shoved two into his little bag and Harry stuck his in the pockets in the back of his cycling shirt. They seemed to stretch and stretch.

“So done any racing lately?”

“No, what with the house fire and things, been too busy.” Drew felt his happiness factor taking a dive.

“We’re going to see the Women’s World cup race in Newport in a couple of weeks,” said Harry, “and there’s a chance we might manage a race against Bryanston School.”

“I know about the World Cup round at Newport, might get up there myself if it’s quiet here. What’s this about Bryanston?”

Drew stepped back and said, “Ask him,” pointing at Harry.

“Apparently, our games teacher said Bryanston had challenged us to a few sports, cricket and athletics and told him that as we had a British champion in the school, we should try a cycle race too if we could get together a team. We might have three or four and need another two or three to make up six,” explained Harry.

“Where are you racing?”

“If it goes ahead, at Bryanston, their grounds are big enough.”

“They probably are. Tell your teacher if it goes ahead and I can get some notice, I’ll come and act as the official.”

“Will that make it official then?”

“No, not unless you’re all licensed with British Cycling, Gaby will be but you won’t need that, as it’s an unofficial thing. But it would mean that no one on a bone shaker is going to take part and it’ll also mean that they don’t put their sixth form up against you young un’s. So it’ll seem a bit more official but it won’t get into cycling news.”

“That’s what I thought about the Dorwey race,” said Drew quietly.

“Ah, that was a bit of a one-off. If the film crew hadn’t been there for something else...”.

“Yeah, I know but they still did a series of pictures of me in mid-air.”

“And that one of you winning the race, carrying my poor bike.”

“Oh yeah, did Specialized ever say anything about it?”

“Didn’t they just, they practically chewed my ears off. A hundred thousand dollars worth of bike technology, up the spout.”

“Did you tell ‘em it didn’t perform well on impacts?” said Drew with a poker face.

“Did I what?” gasped Matt, “You’re not supposed to try flying them!”

“Oops! My mistake.” Drew said this and blushed while everyone else roared with laughter.

“Thankfully it was all insured.”

“Phew, so that’s alright then,” sighed Drew.

They chatted a bit more before leaving and Harry and Drew set off for another twenty miles before they went home. While Drew was giving Harry another lesson in bike craft and showing his phenomenal climbing strength, Matt was on the phone to Frank Bower.

“Frank, remember the young lady who bent your prototype?”

“What, Jenny Bond’s young one?”

“The same.”

“What about her, have you managed to convince her to sign up to us?”

“No, but I might have an idea where you could see her ride in an unofficial race.”

“What do you mean?”

Matt explained about the possibility of the Bryanston race and was Frank interested in sponsoring some sort of prize, in which case other schools might become interested. Then they’d have an event that would attract some media interest and possibly give Frank a chance to see Gaby ride for real.

“How do you know she’ll give it the same effort as an accredited race?”

“This is Jenny Bond’s daughter we’re talking about, she only has one speed, flat out. She beat me on a simple ride and I was trying to give her a lesson, she also flew past Steve Cornish up a killer hill, and he is an up-and-coming rider about three years older than her. She is potential world champion material with so much talent it’s untrue. If ever she realises it, she’ll be unbeatable.”

“Okay, Matt, keep me up to speed and I’ll see what we can offer as a prize and sponsorship. Keep that kid close to you, if she signs up with us, I’ll make sure you get an agent’s fee.”

Matt was smiling as he put the phone down.

“You look like the cat who stole the cream,” said Tim.

“Have we got the number for Bryanston School?”