Aunty Gab
I was certainly glad for Mum's trainer suggestion, a quick footwear change at the end of Lisbet's session and I was on my toes across Koblenz to get, hopefully, the northbound express. My luck was in, a last dash through the Lohr Centre out to the platform where I just got on as the doors started to close. Being mid afternoon there were plenty of seats, homeward bound students generally get the stopping train, this one missing all but a couple of their stops, after Lohr its Andernach then straight up to Remagen.
“Well hello stranger.”
“Hi Myleen,” I allowed sagging into a seat.
“The call of the big city eh?”
“Commuting sucks,” I told her.
“Congratulations on your gold medals by the way, your friends were telling everyone about it for the whole week."
“For a minute I thought you'd seen me on Rhein Abend.”
“Oh I saw that too, required viewing in my house.”
“I made a bit of a fool of myself.”
“Of course not, you looked very professional, you gave as good as you got.”
“That woman does it to me every time, she knows my buttons.”
“Oh of course, you've been on the show before."
“Several times, that was the first time at the studio though.”
By now we were coming into Bad Neunahr.
“Well i'd best check some tickets,” Myleen advised with a sigh, “If I miss you, take care, its good to see you again.”
“And you.”
By now it was chucking out time at Silverberg so Myleen was kept busy with a horde of students, the next stop being Dernau I didn't actually see her before I got off. I trotted through town, a quick wave to Therese in the bakery, around the corner and I was back at Schloß Bond. At this point I usually stick the kettle on but being on a tight schedule I rushed upstairs to put some cycling togs on.
Rather than push my luck with the light its an indoor session today, rollers to be precise so wearing just a sports bra and bib shorts I hurried back down to the garage.
“Oh hi kiddo,” Dad greeted, “Thought I heard you come in.”
“Geez, you nearly gave me heart failure.”
“You going out?”
“Not got time, rollers, what're you doing?” I queried looking at the pile of bits on the workbench.
“Manda's shifter's been sticking, thought i'd have a quick look.”
“Looks a right can of er bits.”
“Quite simple really, so do you want a hand up?”
“Well as you're on the bench.”
I was soon balanced on the treadmill for bikes, of course, unlike the turbo's you actually have to balance and concentrate on rollers or its a messy tangle in short order. Okay, you can't do some of the intensive stuff but with a bit of practice, and i've had a lot, you can do a good session, ride no hands and not get bored. Ten minutes warm up, thirty minute effort, five warm down, a stiff session and i've not left home.
“So what is it, hot date with Max?” Dad queried.
“I told you this morning, the Preiser's invited me up for dinner.”
“I'm guessing you need transport?”
“I was supposed to be picked up from Ahrbrück but if you're offering?”
“Go on, what time are you supposed to be there?”
“Between half six and seven,” I offered.
“You'd best shake a leg then, its nearly quarter to now.”
“Sugar!” I allowed pausing only to lose my bike shoes before heading up to my eyrie.
It wasn't far off full dark as we set off up the valley, a light drizzle wetting the windscreen and dampening the tarmac. The A is quite nippy and we were soon threading through Altenahr, it might only be half six but the place was almost dead. I felt a twinge of guilt when we crossed the bridge and passed the kiosk, i've spent far too little time there the last few weeks what with college, Canada and connected stuff.
That has of course hit me in the wallet too, I get the 'pie commision' but otherwise only the hours worked, ergo, no work no wage. Well I'll be there this weekend, maybe things will calm down a bit now and I can start pulling my weight again. We had to wait for the Express at the level crossing then we were on our way again.
“You're quiet,” Dad mentioned, “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just thinking.”
“Must be important.”
“Not especially, just college stuff.”
Well sort of, I'm supposed to be joint manager of the kiosk, leading from the front and lately its pretty much the reverse of that.
“So did you get that shifter sorted?” I asked as we made the turn towards Staffel still nearly ten kilometres away.
“No, I'll let Mike have a look tomorrow.”
“You know this training camp?”
“Uh huh.”
“Will we actually be able to ride, I mean, Austria in December?”
“Who said anything about riding?”
“Cycling team, training camp?” I suggested.
“Think of it more as a team building exercise,” Pater told me, “This next goes no further right?”
Well I can keep a secret, “'Kay.”
“I'm serious Gaby.”
“I get it,” I mimed zipping my lips.
“Okay, well we're in talks at the minute to bring Darren and Mikel onto the squad full time.”
“That'd make seven of us.”
“Possibly,” he agreed.
“Possibly?”
“Well we might be losing someone.”
Enquiring minds need to know, “Who?”
“I can't say just yet.”
“Its not Mand is it?”
“I told you, I can't say at the moment, i've already said too much, not a word to anyone else Gaby, I mean it.”
“I said didn't I?”
“Hmm.”
We turned into the lane to the farm, the A Klasse bouncing about through the potholes like a cork in a stream. The yard lights were on which meant we missed hitting the bright pink car thing sat on the cobbles. No prizes for guessing who that belongs to!
“Do you need fetching?”
“Herr Preiser said he'd drop me back.”
“Well call if you want me to come.”
“Thanks Dad,” I leant over and pecked his cheek, “I shouldn't be too late anyhow.”
“Give the girls my love.”
“I will, tschuss.”
I got out, pulling my coat a bit closer as I headed for the farmhouse door which opened as I got there. I waved to Dad and followed Mart inside.
“Look who's here Drea, its Aunty Gab!” Bern told her daughter.
Of course I didn't rate as much interest as the fistful of, well I think it started out as a biscuit, that she was gumming to death and spreading over the high chair or the cartoon on the TV.
“Hi sweety.” I stooped to peck her forehead – at least that wasn't covered in sticky biscuit. “She's certainly growing.”
“Tell me about it,” Bern allowed with a roll of the eyes.
“You want tea Gaby?” Mart enquired, “Don't worry, Bern's been teaching me.”
“He's actually quite good,” my friend whispered.
“Er yeah, tea would be good.”
“Be right back.”
I found myself a seat on the Preiser's sofa, last time I was here it was all order and tidy, clearly by the random soft toys and other assorted toddler accessories Drea's presence has changed the whole dynamic.
“Sorry i've not been up before, its been like mental since Canada.”
“I can guess, we saw you on that quiz programme last week.”
“So how's it all going here?”
Bern dabbed at some of her offsprings mess, “Bit awkward at times and you can't exactly just walk to the shops but okay really, miss mum and dad mind."
“They'll be missing you two too.”
“They're coming over for a visit in December.”
“Well thats something to look forward to right? What about Drea?”
“Oh she's anyones for a biscuit! She was a bit out of sorts the first couple of weeks but talk about ducks to water, we like feeding the chickens don't we?”
My 'niece' happily gurgled.
“Erika put you to work then?”
“Have to earn our keep somehow, chickens, laundry, put the vacuum round, its not exactly hard labour, I was doing it at home in Warsop anyhow – well apart from the chickens.”
“Better than commuting to Koblenz every day,” I opined.
“How's that going?”
“Okay I guess,” I didn't really want to spend the evening talking about college.
“Here we go,” Mart announced returning with a tea tray, “What are you two plotting?”
“Nothing for you to worry about Liebchen.”
He put the tray down and started to pour the tea, “She told you about the party Gab?”
“Party?”
“I was just getting to it,” Bern pouted.
“I'll leave it to you then, oh mum said dinner will be about twenty minutes.”
“Okay, this one can go down before we eat.”
“Party?” I prompted.
“Oh yeah,” Bern refocussed on the conversation, “We're having a Hallowe'en party.”
The Preiser party's are, you might recall, legendary, certainly not something to miss.
“Usual thing Gab, fancy dress, music, everyone's invited, could you spread the word?” Mart filled.
“Yeah sure, I don't get to see the girls much these days, with college and stuff, it'll be good to see everyone. What about the sprog?”
“Think she's a bit young Gab,” Bern giggled.
“Oma has volunteered to babysit,” Mart advised.
I slapped my forehead.
“Gab?” Miss Rose queried.
“You think she might sit for you a week next Saturday?”
“Possibly, why?”
I dug into my bag then flourished a couple of paper slips, “BlauHase concert starring yours truly.”
“Gaby Bond, International Superstar! Who would've thought it,” Bern grinned.
“Hardly superstar,” I pointed out, “I sing a couple of covers thats all.”
“I've heard you sing Bond,” Mart stated, “There is no 'thats all' to it, course we'll come.”
“I can do with some friendly faces in the crowd.”
“Where is it?”
“The Rheinhalle,” I told him.
“Where's that?” Bern enquired.
“Up in Bonn,” Mart supplied, “We'll be there Gab.”
“I'd best get this one cleaned up and to bed if we are going to eat in a few minutes,” Bern told us as she hefted the toddler from the high chair.
“I'll come and tuck her in a minute,” Mart stated.
“Nitey nite sweetie,” I offered before giving another head kiss, “See you soon, sleep tight.”
Bern waggled her daughters hand at me, “Won't be long Gab, I'm sure Mar can entertain you for a few minutes.”
Maddy Bell © 01.12.2018
Comments
Singing gigs
I have a sneaking suspicion that these singing gigs are going to pay off for Gaby. Someone who is big in the recording industry is going to notice...