Thump, thump, thump!

“What’re you doing?” Mad enquired from the kitchen doorway.

I moved another piece of meat onto the block, thump, thump, thump, thump!

“Making schnitzel.”
“With a hammer?”
“Tenderizer,” I corrected.

Thump, thump, thump!

“Don’t you buy them in a packet? I’m sure they had them on a special in that Lidl place in Shirebrook a bit back.”
“We make them from scratch,” I haughtily replied.
“You’d have them out of a box if you could, you use frozen at the kiosk,” Mand pointed out.
“Yeah well that's for cheap catering, you got those breadcrumbs ready?”
“Nearly.”
“So why are you beating them to death with that thing?”
Good question, “well it breaks up the meat a bit and it cooks quicker cos its not as thick.”
“Anything I can do?” Mad asked.
Is there? Oh right yeah, “see those eggs, can you crack them into the bowl and whip them up?”

Thump, thump, thump! Only four more to go.
 
Max turned up and after an exchange of lips joined the rest in the family room although I think he escaped the table moving. Mad lost interest after doing the egg wash leaving me and Mand to the breadcrumbs, plates and the fryer. To speed things along I put Mand in charge of the potatoes while I got the Rotköhl, Spargel and baby carrots going.

Max poked his head around the door, “your mum wants to know how long.”
“This stuff takes time,” I snapped.”
“Hey, I’m only the messenger.”
“Soz,” I sighed, “’bout ten minutes, can you take the plates through.”
“Sure, so what crumble we having?”
Crumble, damn, “its a surprise.”
“Spoilsport.”
“Plates?”
“Oh right, ten minutes, gis a yell if you need help with anything.”
 
Mand snorted as he departed carrying the crockery.

“Give over mucky mind.”
“So what crumble are we having?”
“Mum said there’s some rhubarb in the larder.”
“Again?”
“What can I say, Hen grew a lot. Guess I could do plum as well if you fetch some?” I hinted. We have a couple of fruit trees down the garden, the plums are looking pretty good although they can be a little sour.
“Anything but rhubarb, how many?”
“I like rhubarb, ‘bout a dozen, here,” I grabbed a mixing bowl, “put them in here.”
“Yes o master,” she retorted deftly avoiding the butt slap I aimed her direction.
 
Thankfully crumble is easy to make, fruit in dish, crushed biscuit on top, stick in oven go and eat main course. The custard needs to be made fresh anyway so as soon as the two dishes were ovened Mand and I started moving food into the other room. Whilst we don’t entertain that often we do have plenty of serving dishes and silverware which is just as well.

Of course it doesn’t hurt that both Mand and me have experience waiting at table, we made short work of placing the tureens, plates and serving implements amongst the glassware and waiting diners. It looked pretty good, the table that is, its not that I was trying to make an impression exactly, maybe laying the Spargel all the same way, arranging the meat in a sort of pyramid and buttering the taters is a bit more than I’d usually bother with. Its all practical, honest, the breadcrumbs on the Schnitzel don’t get soggy, its easier to serve the asparagus and you don’t have a butter dish going around the table – see, perfectly sensible.

“Well this looks delish,” Aunt C suggested.
“Dig in,” Mum suggested.
“Wine everyone?” Dad proposed.

And so battle commenced. Our English visitors were clearly taking their lead from the rest of us, Mand clearly had no idea what the Spargel actually was, Aunt Carol taking just a small amount of red cabbage compared to the piles adorning even Mands plate. Though I say so myself, it all turned out pretty good, at least as good as most restaurants, maybe a couple of the Schnitzel were a bit ‘darker’ than ideal but hey ho, that's how it goes. Of course the lads were enthusiastic in their eating and conversation largely centreing on the impending move to University for my sister and her boyfriend.
 
“So who’s for dessert,” I asked as Jules and Boris removed the main course debris.
“After all that?” my Aunt queried.
“Live a little Carol,” Mum opined.
“Well only a little, what are we having?”
“Crumble,” I supplied, “there’s either plum or rhubarb with custard or ice cream.”
“Plum, urgh, rhubarb for me,” Mad told us.
“Be about ten minutes for the custard, Max.”
“Er right,” von Strechau agreed following me out to the kitchen where we disturbed my sister doing exactly what I had planned.
“Oops,” Jules offered breaking her lip lock on Herr Appelroth.
“Get a room you two.”
“Later sis,”Jules grinned, “so what's for pud?”
“As if you can’t smell it.”
“Crumble and custard?” Boris put forward hopefully.
“Only if you sod off and let me get on.”
“Come on Liebchen, the Master needs space to work her miracles,” Boris grinned as he tugged my sister out of the kitchen.
“Not you,” I told Max who was making to follow them.
 
Maddy let out a breath, “urgh, I’m stuffed.”
“Me too,” Aunt Carol agreed, “thank you Gaby.”
I shrugged, “’s okay.”
“I can see why you guys like it out here, I wouldn’t want to go back to Warsop either.”
“We don’t eat like this all the time Carol,” Mum mentioned.
“Yeah, like why do you think me and Boris are here, its usually frozen pizza,” my sister put in.

As if!

“Well it was very nice anyway Gaby.”
“Mand helped.” I pointed out.
“Thank you all, I’m just sorry for the circumstances of us being here.”
Mum reached over a hand, placing it over my Aunts, “you know you’re welcome.”
“Well I think you deserve an explanation and apology from someone.”

Mad squirmed in her seat.

“Not neccessary Carol,” Dad stated.
“It is Dave,” she replied, “my daughter owes quite a few people an explanation.”
“Mu-um,” Mad whined.
“Lets clear this up and we can hear your tale over coffee okay Maddy?” Mum proposed.

Mad, clearly quite embarrassed at the attention just nodded in agreement.
 
“Why didn’t you just get out of the camper?” Jules queried.
Mad shrugged, “dunno, I was like petrified of being found and what would happen to me.”
“Makes sense,” I offered, “I’d be wetting my knickers.”
“You’re always wetting them,” Mand opined.
“Do not!”
“Girls!” Dad interrupted, “so what happened when you got off the ferry Maddy?”
“Well I hadn’t got a clue where we were, still don’t, I thought I’d jump ship so to speak when they stopped, they have to stop somewhere right?”
 
And so we listened as my cousin recounted her adventure, how she found a few euros in the camper, caught a bus and tramped the countryside. She could have got help any number of times so goodness knows why she didn’t just go to the Polizei instead of hiding all the time. Mind you, it was quite funny that night in the church.
 
It wasn’t a long story, not really but with our interruptions it ran into a second round of coffee and a couple of hours.

“….so that's why I didn’t fancy your plum crumble Gab,” she concluded.
“Yeah, they can be a bit sour,” Mum agreed.
“Well your safe now,” Dad noted.
“Something to tell the kids,” Jules grinned.
“Please Juliette, don’t wish that on me yet,” Aunt C told her.

Mum gave my sister a pointed look.

“Well um, now we’ve heard all that, I guess we’d best get to bed,” Jules suggested, “Boris?”
“Um yeah, nice to meet everyone, we’ll er go to bed then.”
“I’ll show you the code so you can get in for the facilities,” Dad stated getting up with them.
 
“That was quite some story,” Max opined a few minutes later.
“Sorry we didn’t get a chance to, you know,” I apologized.
Ii’ll live,” he grinned, “come here.”

We were disturbed a few minutes later by Mum’s voice, “Maria’s picking me up in the morning so you can use the car if you want to go out.”
“Are you sure Jen, we’ve caused you guys enough problems this week already.”
“Its no problem Carol, it’ll only be stood here, you going home Max?”
“Er yes Frau Bond, I’ll er see you tomorrow Gab?”
“Usual time?”
“Might be later, the farrier’s coming in the morning.”
I went onto tip toes to peck his cheek, “see you tomorrow then.”
“Night Mrs B, Mrs er Peters.”
“Goodnight Max,” Mum pointedly told him.
 
“Seems like a nice lad,” Aunt C opined as the mofa kicked into life outside, “both of them are.”
“We’ve had our moments,” Mum told her.
“Well I just wish Maddy would find someone a bit more attached to reality.”
“I thought this Peter was a nice lad?”
“He’s certainly into cosplay,” I put in.
“A bit too much,” my Aunt noted, “he dropped out of college because it was ‘not relevant’.”
“Relevant to what?” Mum asked.
“Goodness knows, this doesn’t go further okay, Gaby?”
What doesn’t? “er sure.”
“This whole escapade didn’t start with the need for a loo, you know about the tattoo?”

Mum knowingly nodded, I followed suit not having a clue.

“Well this all started on the train up to Scarborough, apparently Peter Perfect wanted my daughter to get more ink, I think that's what they say. For a change she didn’t just agree, they had a big fall out on the train and she stormed off – the bus to Brid was a spur of the moment thing.”

Tattoos? Hardcore Mad, wonder what the tattoo is, probably something lame like I dunno, a butterfly. And where is it? Must be somewhere ‘private’ or I’d’ve seen it already – who’d’ve thought, she could be like Fritzi down at the clinic, now she really has got some ink!
 
Maddy Bell © 31.08.2018