*Chapter 22*

Home Again, Clippetty Clop

 
 
“So what was all that about tonight, man?” Josh demanded once we returned to our spartan overnight abode.

“What do you mean?”

“The whole girl thing, like.”

“You know the score.”

“Aye, I know that stuff, I was there in Hamburg remember an’ ah’ve bin rooming with youse fer a week, not that, the dress and girl stuff.”

“Wasn’t my choice exactly but Dad thought that as it’s gonna happen sometime, tonight was as good as any other time.”

It sounds like I’m blaming Dad, I’m not really it’s just…oh I don’t know what I mean.

“Didn’t work anyhow did it? The other lads just saw a bit of totty and Laura and Sal, if they clocked it was me they didn’t react.”

“Do you always look like that, when you’re at home like?”

“Not if I can help it.” I sighed, “You’ve seen me, the girl me, a couple of times, think Roni but less enthusiastic.”

“Ah hate to say it, man, but youse do make a canny lass like, definitely…”

“Don’t say it!” I cut in.

“Next time that Gaby makes an appearance could youse at least warn me, like?”

“I’ll try, mate.” Yeah I’ll try.

 
 
“We all loaded?” Steve enquired, counting heads in the bus.

“Anyone own a pink cardigan?” Caro asked over his shoulder.

“That’ll be Geth’s,” Mark chortled.

“More likely yours big shot.” Darren suggested.

“Mine I think,” Sal offered.

“Here you go then,” Caro allowed passing it into the back, “anyone else missing anything? Phones? Wallets?”

That of course had everyone searching bags and pockets, turns out Jamie had left both in the room, idiot.

We set off a bit short of nine thirty for the drive north, tonight I’ll be back in my own bed, the rest of course still have another day, well Jamie and Mark have two and Josh is stopping with us before flying to Toon land tomorrow. We joined the northbound motorway which, rather than going directly towards Basel swings away more easterly before joining the A2/E35 that we travelled down on. Rather than going through the city we crossed the Rhein a little to the east to avoid the traffic and although a bit longer we escaped the long queues at the border.

It was something after twelve when we left the autobahn at Baden services, after all the travelling we’ve done on this trip its become a bit of a chore.

“Urgh!” Sal announced with a stretch.

“Tell me about it,” Claire agreed.

“Forty five folks.” Steve announced.

“We eating here?” Mark enquired.

“No, Mark, we want to push on so we aren’t too late getting to tonight’s accommodation, we’ll probably have another stop later but not to eat.”

“Coffee and cake?” I suggested.

“Now you’re talking, Bond!” Geth enthused.

“Count me in,” Mand added.

“Forty five,” Steve reminded us.
 
 

The services had both a coffee shop and Dinea; whilst the coffee smelt good they only had some grotty pre packed croissants on offer so I led the herd into the restaurant.

“Aha, cake!”

“I swear you’ve got a built in cake detector, man.” Josh mentioned.

“Perhaps,” I shrugged with a grin as I surveyed the goodies on offer.

“How much is it?” Sal queried.

“Two ninety five, the cream’s fifty extra.”

“Cream?” Laura put in.

“Good with Pflaumkuchen,” I offered, “This lot’s on me.”

“Did I hear right, Bond?” Geth asked.

“Think of it as a thank you, I couldn’t’ve won without you lot helping.”

I saw Mark nod in approval.

“In that case I’m having cream!” Claire told us gleefully.

 
 
It cost me nearly sixty Euros but it was well worth it. When Mum suggested it last night I was all ‘I won they should treat me’ but as she pointed out you can’t win on your own – maybe occasionally but treat the team right and they’ll be much more amenable. We chatted, drank, ate and for once we really relaxed – no impending race, presentation or team talk to distract us. By the time we returned to the minibus it felt more like a day out with friends than the end of a two-week bike-racing trip.

Indeed, once we got going again we didn’t return to this mornings individual travel strategies, instead the bus was filled with lively conversation and even at one point a game of I-Spy! Obviously the teen version so it got a bit silly but the monotonous autobahn scenery was ignored and it was more a need to empty bladders than anything else that had us rapidly exiting our transport at the Pfalz services.
 
 

“It’s only about an hour from here,” Caro advised as we settled back on board.

“Yay!” Jamie allowed.

An hour, sixty minutes and my part of this trip will be over. I know I had a night at home on the way to Italy but essentially I’ve been away for nearly seven weeks. The bus was more sober as we rejoined the E31 that will take us all the way to home to the Ahrtal. The afternoon sky was dotted with puffy white cloud, nothing threatening but typical of the region when the temperature is higher – not Italy hot but certainly high twenties.

When we crossed the Moseltalbrucke I felt like I was pretty much home, maybe fifty k’s, I sometimes train in these hills. I watched for the turn offs, Andernach, Maria Laach, Nurburgring, Brohltal, us next. Nearly there. The engine tone changed as Steve started to slow the bus for the turn – Dad mentioned something about parking the truck at the bottling plant tonight so I’m guessing we are going there first.

Sure enough rather than taking the main road we followed the Mercedes towards Heppingen and the Apollinaris depot, home to millions of bottles and the cycling team. The truck was already in the yard – they had left Baden well before us but we were barely five minutes behind them arriving here.

“Now that’s a lot of bottles!” Darren noted.

“Just a few,” I agreed, “there’s another depot further up the valley.”

“Drew, Josh, get your stuff together and in the car.” Dad prompted through the doorway.

“Looks like this is us then.” Josh mentioned.

I hadn’t got much on the bus so I was soon clambering out into the late afternoon sunshine.

“Take care, Drew.” Sal offered.

“Yeah next week, guys.” Daz added.

“You can do farewells later, we’ll all be eating together tonight.” Steve supplied.
 
 

Ten minutes later I was strapped into the Mercedes and we were on the final leg of the homeward journey. We led the bus through Bad Neunahr and Ahrweiler to the Ibis which this time was accommodating everyone. Of course we had a bit further to go but soon enough the familiar streets of Dernau and Schloss Bond hove into sight.

‘Beep, beep!’ Dad sounded the horn as we swung up onto the drive alongside Mum’s car.

Mum’s car, she’s home! That was confirmed a moment later as she appeared on the steps down from the house.

“Mum!” I squealed, almost leaping out of the car.

“Someone’s pleased to be home.” Mum managed before I nearly bowled her over.

“I’ve missed you.” I almost blubbed.

“And me you, kiddo,” Mum agreed returning my hug, “Hi, Josh.”

“Mrs Bond,” he allowed.

“Don’t I get a look in?” Dad queried.

“Later, Dave Bond.” She promised.

“Come on then, you two, lets get unloaded then you can sort yourselves out for dinner.”

 
 
It didn’t take long to get all the bags inside – somehow I had several more than I departed with – well there was that dress for starters besides the assorted presents, jerseys, trophies and posters I’d accumulated. Josh was installed in the guest room, he could hardly use Jules lair like Mand did the other week. By the time I emerged from my shower the distant rumble of the washing machine could just be heard – the door to the garage must be open – yay for mums!

At least dinner tonight wasn’t gonna be a fancy affair, a return to Der Mühle where we ate on the trip down, you remember, Christina’s parents place down in Ahrweiler?

“You going like that?” Mum queried when I ventured downstairs.

I recognise that tone, it usually leads to a fancy frock.

“Er yeah?” I offered, surreptitiously checking my jeans for stains.

“Where are your chino’s?”

“In the wash?”

“Hmm, they’ll have to do I suppose.”

Yes!

“So where’s Dad and the big yin?”

“In the den I think, so where’s this trophy then?

Trophy, yeah I won didn’t I, but seriously, woooo!

“I’ll just go and fetch it,” I enthused.
 
 

We had a while before we needed to head out to Ahrweiler so Mum had to sit through the whole story of the Swiss race. She was spared nothing from my devious tactics to my near panic on the Queen stage over that big pass. I don’t think she was too bored; at least her eyes were still open when Dad poked his head into the kitchen and suggested it was time to leave.

“Come on then, kiddo, you can tell me the rest later,” she prompted.

“I guess.”

“You two coming or what?” Dad enquired.

“Right there,” Mum replied.

“Can we er take your car luv, the Merc’s full of tosh still?” Dad admitted.

“Guess who’s not drinking tonight,” Mum mentioned under her breath, “okay, love.”

 
 
Although Mum’s car is still a Mercedes, they still sponsor the team after all; it’s only a B Klasse – an upgrade over the original but still hardly on a par with Dad’s C Klasse monster. Apparently we needed to take our silverware, Josh’s two boxes and my one were stowed in the boot and we set off for downtown Ahrweiler.

“So what were you two talking about?” Mum enquired of the other passengers as she swung us onto the main road.

“Just sorting some paperwork out for Josh to take home tomorrow.” Dad supplied.

“Boring.” Mum stated.

“But necessary if Josh is gonna race with us next season, he’s still using a UK licence which ruled him out of the Jüngere Cup overall this season.”

“Bummer,” I noted, “you did some good rides too.”

“Aye, your Da reckons I woulda been top ten like if I’d been eligible.”

“You still get the prize money though?”

“Oh aye.” He grinned.

Maddy Bell © 14.03.2014