Whatever Next? Chapter 20 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

---

(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

Gaby determined that she would do her utmost in the forthcoming cycle race at Bryanston School. She also decided a training ride each morning—as per her old regime at home—was necessary. Getting it past Carol, was another matter. After much angst and argument, she agreed on condition that Harry went with her.

“But I used to do this every day at home.”

“You’re not at home now, and remember who decided we’d come down here?”

“But that’s not fair, Auntie Carol.”

“Also, you weren’t a girl then, you are that much more vulnerable, now.”

Gaby nearly said, ‘but I’m not a girl now,’ except it would have been pointless. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, she was—a statement supported by what her body was doing. Hardly a scrap of fat on her, except on her boobs and bum, her arms were thinner and smaller than Maddy’s and Maddy seemed to be slightly taller, again. That annoyed Gaby, so she wore heels to school that day.

But before that, a call to Harry meant he was up and waiting at five the next morning when Gaby, yawning, checked over her bike and zipped up her windproof jacket against the cool autumn morning. It was only just light, they needed to get going.

Some quick stretches and running on the spot, their bike shoes clattering on the driveway, and off they set. Gaby led them out of the village and up the hill towards Wareham. Once at the top, and a bit of puffing later, they were zipping down the dual carriageway that’s used as part of the CC Weymouth time trial route. Twenty minutes later, they approached Winfrith and turned off towards Moreton.

There are numerous routes across Winfrith Heath, which on a cold day can be quite a bleak spot. Not so today for our intrepid cyclists, who marvelled at a small herd of deer they startled, plus flocks of various birds, most of whom Harry would have recognised had he had time to see them properly.

Even Gaby recognised the buzzard which flapped away from the grass verge where it had been gorging on carrion—a bent bunny, half stripped by crows, had yielded a good meal for the raptor, who fluttered into a ploughed field to finish his breakfast with any earthworms he could find.

They went directly across the heath, riding up the rise which momentarily becomes a dual carriageway as it approaches UKAEA Winfrith, once site of the Dragon reactor, an experimental nuclear power station, now in the process of decommissioning, a state which might last decades.

Harry shouted to Gaby what the site was as she glided up the rise with little effort compared to his puffing and panting. For someone who declared herself unfit, she made his current levels seem off the bottom of the scale. He was improving, he tried to placate his worries with that, it was just—so was she, and faster than him.

He redoubled his efforts, and attacked the rise. Gaby was well beyond it and accelerating away down the other side, where eventually it rises again before falling away again towards Moreton; then there’s a relatively flat section for a couple or more miles.

Gaby was caught in the quandary of doing what she needed to improve her fitness, and doing what was right for their ‘team’ training. She needed to keep Harry fairly happy, or he’d stop coming out with her, which was okay as long as Carol didn’t find out. So she eased off and let Harry catch her up at the next rise.

Once they got down it with its awkward bend and negative camber, they played tag, each sprinting off to be chased by the other, each chase lasting about a minute. It had them both breathing hard and feeling very warm. Gaby took a drink from her bottle, this was much more fun than school. Her computer showed five forty five—time to get on.

From Moreton they followed the road towards Dorchester, continuing on to West Knighton and then back towards home. They arrived back just after six, and decided they’d not quite done the ‘even twenty’ as Harry had slowed them down, but they’d get there. At least at this time the shower was free, instead of having to fight with all these women, who take so long in the bathroom.

At half past six, Carol was knocking on the bathroom door, annoying Gaby who was still doing her hair and hadn’t even started her makeup. “Women,” Gaby muttered under her breath, unaware of the irony. She opened the bathroom door, and swept out in a cloud of steam, a vision wrapped up in towels and clasping her cosmetic bag and hairbrush set.

“How did the ride go?” asked Carol, waiting for the steam to clear a little before entering the sauna-like bathroom.

“Okay, Harry’s a bit slow, but he’s improving. We saw a flock of deer, Auntie Carol.”

“Herd,” she corrected.

“No we didn’t hear them, we saw them.”

“No, Gaby, deer come in herds, sheep are in flocks.”

“I don’t remember any sheep,” she racked her brain, “no, no sheep until we got to Broadmayne.”

Carol smiled and shut the door, sometimes it was difficult trying to cope with a parallel universe as well as one’s own, and all teenagers seem to inhabit a different one to everyone else.

Gaby had great delight in dropping her wet towel on Jules, who not surprisingly was nowhere near as pleased. However, Gaby thought the death threats, and particularly horrible ones at that, were a bit over the top. “I didn’t want you to oversleep and be late for school, Jules,” said the wunderkind, lying through her teeth.

“If you drop a wet towel on my face again, I’m gonna make you eat it, if I have to force it down yer throat meself.”

“Okay, okay, keep yer wig on. Message received.”

“It’s bad enough you waking me up in the middle of the night while you put your stupid cycle shorts on, grunting and groaning like an old woman.”

“Ha, what about your rotten snoring then, you sound like Concorde landing on reverse thrust, in an enclosed space.”

“Me?” Juliet’s voice was full of indignation, “I don’t snore.”

“Not when you’re awake.”

“You little pig, say I don’t snore.” Juliet was sounding quite upset.

“I can say it, but it isn’t true.”

“You mare, Gaby Bond, I hate you. At least I don’t fart in bed.”

“Neither do I,” said Gaby blushing.

“Yes you do, all boys…” she suddenly realised what she’d half said. Gaby’s face creased as the below the belt blow was received. “I’m sorry, Gabs, I didn’t mean it like that.” She hugged her sibling.

“You’re a rotten cow,” said Gaby as they embraced, “and you do snore.”

“Well you’re a prize mare, for saying so, so there.”

“Is this a private fight or can anyone over the age of six join in?” Maddy stuck her head around the door.

“What do you want, Peters?” asked Juliet.

“Are you working tonight?”

“What day is it, Thursday? Yes, why?”

“Thought I might have a browse, you can get discount, yeah?”

“I might.”

“How much?”

“Ten per cent, why?”

“See you later,” Maddy withdrew from Salon Bond, and went into the bathroom, which further annoyed Jules.

“Well, I gave you a chance before spider lashes went in there.”

“You’re like, wearing a skirt again?” Jules look aghast.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“For someone who took a whole week to find the right trousers for school, you haven’t worn any yet.”

“I’m savouring the freedom of choice I have as part of being a girl.”

“That’s hogwash, Gaby Bond, and you know it.”

“Yeah, but it sounded good, admit it, it did.”

“For you it did, now why the ultrafemme look?”

“Just experimenting, and the skirt’s quite comfortable.”

“It’s those shoes, isn’t it?”

Gaby blushed, “Um, no, course not.”

“So why don’t you wear the flatter ones?”

“They don’t look quite so good, these flatter my legs, so Harry says.” Gaby blushed again.

“Well, I s’pose you have got quite nice legs. You’re wearing thin tights?”

“Yeah, it’s not that cold yet.”

“What are those, ten denier?”

Gaby looked at the pack, “Yeah, why?”

“Better take a spare pair, knowing you, you’ll ladder them.”

“I’ll be okay.”

“Suit yourself, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, little sister mine.”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t.”

Maddy finally relinquished the bathroom and Jules just managed to beat her grandmother for possession of the room. Josie had to go down to the cloakroom for her wee.

Meanwhile Gaby, slipped into the three-inch heeled court shoes. She liked the way they made her legs look and she strutted around the bedroom, yeah, they felt good, although she’d have to watch out for the fashion police, one or two of the teachers had been known to penalise girls who wore too much makeup or jewellery, or unsuitable shoes.

She did her makeup and a squirt of cologne, and she was leaving the bedroom as Jules came in to dress, she followed Maddy down the stairs to breakfast. Here, she showed the last vestiges of boyhood, by eating twice as much as the other girls.

“Where does she put it?” asked Josie.

“God knows, but I wish my metabolism did the same,” complained Carol.

“Remember I’m in the shop tonight, it’s late night.” Jules informed Carol.

“How are you getting home?”

“John has passed his driving test, so he’s gonna to come and get me.”

“Kewl,” noted Gaby, storing the information away for further possible use.

“Your bum cold?” asked Maddy, shivering a little at the bus stop, despite wearing her trousers.

“No, why?” It wasn’t quite true, the autumn breeze was causing goosebumps under the thin tights.

“So what are you gonna say to the dinner ladies today?”

“I dunno, why?”

“They say the number of kids coming for school dinners has doubled since you started here,” said William, “Where’s Palmer this morning?”

“Harry? Yeah, he’s okay, we did a training ride earlier.”

“What you got him up early this morning?”

“Yeah, when you get your new bike, you can come too.”

“Yeah, when I get it, I’m trying to get Dad to take me on Saturday, any chance you could come too?”

“Nah, sorry, me an’ Harry’s going to Wales to watch the bike race.”

“What bike race?”

“Women’s World Cup.”

“Is your mum riding?”

“No, sadly, she has done, but they’ve swapped their priorities, something to do with the sponsor wanting them to concentrate on some different races, ‘cos they get better publicity.”

“That’s a bit rough, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s worse, ‘cos Nicole Cooke isn’t riding, she’s had a knee op.”

“Oh, tough,” said William, not entirely aware who Nicole Cooke was.

Harry came rushing just as the bus arrived; panting, he scrambled aboard, fighting with his bus pass which had somehow caught in his blazer pocket. He finally managed to sit next to Gaby, who’d kept him a seat. He shoved his backpack on the luggage rack.

“What happened to you?” asked Gaby.

“I was trying to download a piece of software off the net, took longer than I expected.”

“Oh, we thought you’d gone to sleep.”

“Nah, I’ve got double French later, can catch up then.” They all laughed at this knowing how awful the French teacher was, and how he’d go ballistic if anyone even yawned in his lesson. “Oh, I like the legs, very sexy.”

Gaby blushed, and began to wonder if wearing the nude tights had been such a good idea, however, she wasn’t the only one, nor in combination with totally unsuitable school shoes, either; there were at least three more in her year, one of whom also wore enough makeup and jewellery to make it look as if she was going clubbing at lunch time.

Maddy looked down at the shoes, “I thought you’d grown for a moment,” she rubbed it in, knowing her cousin was sensitive about her stature. In fact, as Drew, he had all sorts of issues about his body, some of which went away when he assumed the persona of Gaby. He was aware of this, but tried to ignore it. In the part of his mind where he’d partitioned and stored Drew, he knew he was just a regular guy, it was his skill with disguise and makeup, together with his acting abilities which fooled everyone. The fact that his nipples were poking out through his B cup bra, thanks to the chill of the breeze, had escaped him, but not Harry, who thought it was his birthday.

Unfortunately, for Gaby, she attracted loads of attention from the boys, which perplexed her a little. She was dressing in a relatively sexy way, yet seemed irritated by the effects it had. Not having much interest in boys as partners, with one exception, who had managed to get through her defences, she wasn’t as aware of the signals she was giving off.

Maddy thought a warning would be in order, to try and prevent further difficulties. “Gabs, I don’t know how to say this, but you are making little boys hearts and brains—you know the ones they keep in their underpants—rather excited.”

“What do you mean?” asked a very perplexed Bond junior.

“Well, those shoes, for a start and you are rather swinging your tail when you walk.”

“I’m not, I always walk like that in these shoes.”

“If you swing it much more, I know that someone is going to have an accident.”

“Who, me?”

“No, one of the boys I see following you around with books hiding the fronts of their pants.”

“You’re joking?” It was obvious from the expression on Maddy’s face that she wasn’t. “So what do I do, help me, Mad.”

“Try to swing your butt with less … um, eroticism?”

“With less rot what?”

“Just keep yer arse still while you walk.”

Gaby was very self-conscious for the rest of the day. She’d been oblivious of the effect that she, and testosterone soup, was having on two hundred pubescent boys. Now she had been warned, and for once Maddy was being helpful with little or no payback for herself, unless the reduction of the two ferrets fighting in a sack- effect—as one young hormone fuelled lad had described Gaby’s ambulatory back view—made her more noticeable to the male crowd, certainly, she was wiggling somewhat more than she had been.

On the way home, Maddy had gone into Dorchester, and was going to beg a lift home with Jules and John, something with which neither of them had yet been acquainted, but Mad had the gall to do it and feel unaffected.

Meanwhile, Gaby minced her way to the bus, while Harry held it up for her. “Come on Gabs, the one behind is beeping,” it was true he was. Eventually, she walked normally and entered the bus. The male driver ignored her pass his gaze fixated by her legs. She blushed and resolved to wear trousers tomorrow.

“You were quiet at lunch today, I think the dinner ladies were disappointed, I know dozens of kids were.”

“I go there to be educated not give a floor show, okay,” she snapped back.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. Are you like, okay; I mean there’s nothing wrong with you, if there was, you’d like, tell me, wouldn’t you?”

She stared out of the window for a few minutes and Harry wondered if he’d stepped on the land mine of female emotions. I’ll bet she’s on, or something, went through his mind.

Gaby, however, was feeling very angry with herself. They must all think I’m a tart, flaunting meself all over the school. Bloody shoes, I won’t wear them again, and me feet’s sore, too.

“You’ve got cracking legs,” said Harry, trying to cheer her up.

“What?” she said sharply enough to make him lean back away from her. “Well make the most of it mister, because tomorrow I’m gonna wear trousers. I’ve had it up to here,” she said holding her hand up to her eyes, “with bloody boys, ogling my legs or my bum. I’m gonna punch the lights out on the next one who says anything.” Drew it seemed had made a cameo appearance, then disappeared once again.

In the seats surrounding them, was a gentle tittering as girls sniggered and boys snorted. The girls were glad she was going to wear trousers, now they might go in their short school skirts, to even things up a bit. And the boys, they found it amusing that someone who was such a fox, should complain about the effect she had on them—typical bloody girl.