*Chapter 8*
Fashionista
“Geez, Con, you made me jump!”
“Ha, I thought it was you,” she turned to the others, “told you so.”
“How did you know?” I queried.
“Mama.”
“Eh?”
“Well she talked to you instead of just giving you your coffee.”
“So you turned to the dark side, Gab?” Steff asked from behind me.
“It’s a long story, where’s that Pflaumkuchen?” I sighed before picking up my coffee and joining the others.
“You certainly got screwed this time, Gab,” Nena stated after I’d given the abbreviated version of Gothic Gaby.
“I’ve had worse,” my mind quickly flickered back to England and the pickles I seemed to attract, by comparison this morning is self-inflicted.
“So why this, this morning?” Pia queried.
Why indeed?
“Just thought it’d be fun,” I offered.
“You girls going to school this morning,” Frau Thesing hinted.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t such a great idea, I’d pushed the Schauff around to the bakery but now I needed to ride it. I had got a scarf and gloves but my legs felt like icicles – the dress would’ve been a better bet but oh no I had to go for the stupid shorts. And the boots, at least they have a flat sole.
I started to get nervous as we approached Silverberg, for two cents I’d’ve turned for home but I now had an escort.
“Come on,” Steff chivvied.
“These boots are heavy,” I complained as I clumped along.
“Didn’t you bring anything else?” Bridg asked.
“We are talking, Gab here,” Pia put in.
“Hey!” I complained.
“Well have you?” Steff prompted.
“Erm.”
“Just pray old Boxxie doesn’t see those shorts,” Con suggested.
Crank my stress levels up why don’t you.
“Strechau alert,” Nena told us as we reached the school buildings.
“Gab with you, guys?”
“Might be,” Steff advised, “behind us somewhere.”
“Er cheers,” Max allowed.
“So what you want her for lover boy?” Bridg asked.
“Um just something about her birthday present.”
“The famous concert,” Pia inserted.
“What about it?”
He’s not cancelling is he?
“Gab?”
“We’ll leave you love birds to it,” Con promoted to the others.
“Don’t be late for registration,” Nena teased.
My posse left us leaving in their wake enough unsaid innuendo for me to blush through the pale foundation.
“So er, what’s up?” I asked unwrapping the scarf so I could take the hood off my head.
Max’s eyes were on stalks.
I unzipped the hoody, it’s warm in here, “So?”
“Um, I er, is that a tattoo?”
Tattoo? Ah tattoo, “Yeah,” I couldn’t help myself, I pulled the assorted tops to the side to expose my ‘artwork’, “got it yesterday, what do you reckon?”
“Um.”
The poor sod was now totally flummoxed.
“So what about the concert? You said there was something you had to tell me?”
“Er Mum said she’ll collect us if we can make our own way there.”
“Oh cool, we can go up on the train.”
I must have the devil in me today; I pulled his head down and landed black lips on his Baronly kissers.
“Nice of you to join us, Max,” Frau Dürst mentioned, “and Fraulein Bond?”
“Er sorry, Miss,” I offered, “bit of a clothing malfunction.”
Look he’s got very kissable lips; it was cleaning him up afterwards that made us tardy. Of course there were more than a few sniggers, it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what we’d been up to.
“Well now you are both here I’ll finish the announcements.”
We both slipped into our seats, I think Max was blushing more than me, well the makeup does tone it down a bit.
“As I was saying before we were interrupted, anyone wanting to come to ‘Il Roma’ to eat before the prom need to see me before Friday. It’s not compulsory, I know some of you will have your own plans, this is for those that haven’t, okay?”
“Um, how much is it?” Marty queried.
“My treat, Herr Preiser, Erika?”
“Why’s it there, Miss?”
“I like spaghetti,” there were a few chuckles, “but mostly it’s only a couple of minutes walk to the Kursaal.”
Oh yes prom. It’s not for months yet but I guess they need to book stuff in plenty of time. Why it has to be at the Kursaal I don’t know, it’s not like the sports hall isn’t big enough, suppose we need to get dresses and stuff too – more expense.
“Can I have a word, Gaby?” Frau Dürst asked as we filed out to go to the Language Lab for our session with Herr Viessner…
“Er sure.”
She waited for the strugglers to depart and closed the door before starting.
“I have to ask, Gaby, is this the new you?”
“Um not really.”
“Not really?”
“Well it was supposed to be a bit of a lark?”
“A rather extreme lark don’t you think? Dyeing your hair is one thing but the tattoo, look, you’re an intelligent girl, you know these things have consequences. I take it you still want to go to the catering college in September?”
“Er that’s the plan,” I agreed.
“You know you have to interview to get in, well regardless of equal opportunities, you arrive looking like this it won’t go in your favour.”
“But they can’t do that.”
“They shouldn’t I agree but the fact is it will go against you, so the pretty blonde bike racer has gone?”
“Er no, not exactly, it really was supposed to be a lark, I should be back to normal tomorrow.”
“Your hair?”
“Jules says it’ll wash out, it’s only hair chalk.”
“Look, Gab, I know you might want to experiment, I don’t mean to sound like mother but I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret later.”
“Er I’ll try not to, Miss.”
“Okay, off you go and, Gaby?”
“Yes, Miss?”
“Don’t let Frau Boxberg see you in those shorts, they do push the clothing code more than a little."
“What did Dürst want earlier,” Bridg enquired once we were settled at our usual lunch table.
“Er nothing much, so like what’re we doing for this prom thing?”
“Stop dodging the question, Gab,” P opined.
“Okay,” I sighed, “she suggested I tame the whole Goth thing down a bit.”
“Hence me loosing my jumper,” Con surmised.
“Er yeah,” I agreed.
To be sure whilst my clothing choice was very limited I had tried to tone things down a bit. The makeup was a lot subtler; it took a few minutes scrubbing to get rid of the pasty look and black lips. The hair would have to wait but I lost the earrings and Con’s boat neck sweater worked quite well as a makeshift skirt, it’s a good job she’s a bit bigger than me.
“You keeping the stud?” Steff asked.
“Stud?”
“In your nose?”
To be honest I’d forgotten about the tiny sparkle in my right nostril.
“It looks pretty cute,” Nena opined.
“Wasn’t planning on it, I thought it was stuck on, I didn’t realise it was pierced until I went to bed, any idea how you take it out?”
“Doesn’t it have a back on, like ear studs?” Pia queried.
“No, I think the moo just pushed it through but I can’t pull it out, something’s stopping it.”
“I’ve got some earrings like that, Mama has to take them out because it’s so fiddly,” Con advised us.
“Great,” I sighed, “I suppose I’ll have to get my sister to take it out.”
“Really, Gab you should keep it.”
“Mum’s gonna go ballistic, shoulda heard her when Jules got her tongue pierced.”
“Everyone has nose rings these days,” Bridg put in.
“None of you do, or anyone else I know,” I pointed out.
“There’s that girl in Hr Boltt‘s registration,” Nena offered.
“The Indian girl, don’t her parents own ‘Die Everest’, you know behind Lidl?” Pia suggested.
“She doesn’t count, all Indian girls have pierced noses.”
“Don’t,” Brid stated.
“There’s a lot more Indians and that back in England and I bet just about all of them have nose studs.”
“The men too?” Pia queried.
“No,” I rolled my eyes and sighed, “the women and girls.”
Of course back in Blighty it was all the rage a couple of years ago so it’s more common to see girls and a few lads too, sporting nasal jewellery even in Warsop. For my part, joining their number wasn’t on my bucket list and the sooner my moo of a sister takes it out the better.
“So you going to the Prom with Max,” Steff asked as we made our way back up the valley a couple of hours later.
“Why should I?”
“He’s not asked her,” Bridg suggested.
“To be fair, we are talking about Max here,” Con noted.
“Mr last minute himself,” Pia added.
“Why would I?” I asked.
“Isn’t it traditional?” Nena queried, “You know, to go as couples.”
“How should I know?”
“We gonna get fancy dresses for it?” Con queried.
“Is it formal then?” Nena requested.
“I think the boys have to wear suits,” I noted.
“Max looks good in a suit,” Pia advised.
“He does?”
“You wouldn’t know, Gab, you’re always in a lip lock with him!” Steff stated with a grin.
“Am not!” well okay, I’ll admit it happens sometimes.
Maddy Bell 29.07.16
