Gaby Book 25 Only Five Minutes by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2019 Madeline Bell After all the excitement of the last few weeks culminating in the trip to Austria, surely Gaby can get back to some sort of 'normal'? Well it wouldn't be Gaby if it was that simple would it?

There was a sharp poke in my ribs, bum, I forgot Mand.

“And this is Amanda de Vreen, she races with me and lives with us,” I added, I think as though it was intended to be seperate.
'Catherine' finished shaking my parents hands and moved to Mand, “nice to meet you Amanda.”

Talk about star struck, Mand did one of those sort of not quite curtsey things, talk about embarrasing!

We were saved from further embarrassment by the arrival of Max trailed by his mother.

“Everyone ready?” Gloria asked.
“I think we're all introduced,” her sister agreed.
“Good, Max?”

For a moment I thought he was coming over to me but instead he went to his grandmother, helping her to her feet before offering an arm to escort her. Very noble but I felt a little miffed.

“come Gaby,” the Countess took my arm, “lets walk, you can tell me all about Kanada.”
 

Its all a bit weird really, i've met this woman before, she's my boy friends Tante but I feel less confortable in her company than I did last week with the future King of Englandshire. Dunno what it is, its not like she makes a deal about the title – far from it, but its like a sort of aura, maybe she gets it from her mother. Gloria is so, well not ordinary but I suppose down to earth despite the trappings of aristocracy.

“Is your husband here?” I asked as we followed the rest of the procession.
“No, just me on a grab and run, mother is spending Weihnachts with us, give my sister a break.”
“In Rothenburg?”
“Heavens no, we're spending the season down at the house in Beaulieu, Franky is going there directly from Madrid.”

The name rang a bell from somewhere, sounds foreign – well its not a German name is it? Franky is of course her husband, the Count Schillingsfurst, he's something big in banking according to Max.
 
I was glad that Mum suggested some less extreme footwear, the courtyard's cobbles are not the best walking surface at the best of times. Its not far across to the gatehouse where von Strechau senior has his restaurant but in ten centimetre heels it would be impossible! Of course, the Bond's have dined in the restaurant before, even at friends and family rates its not cheap but we've had some freebies as guinea pigs for Wilhelm's latest dishes.

Of course, our arrival caused a bit of a stir with the paying patrons, done up as we are, to the nines – well eight and a halves at any rate. The place often runs with limited staff, Max often gets drafted in to serve tables, tonight Willy had a couple of locals working front of house and by the voices from the kitchen at least one under chef. To be honest I'm not sure how the place pays – its only open four evenings a week usually doing ten covers a time, bet you're impressed with my knowledge of all the pro terms, don't be, we've been covering this stuff at college.

“Evening everyone,” the Baron greeted as we seated ourselves.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Dad mentioned.
“No problem Dave, the family were eating here anyway, hope you all like Rebrücken?”
“Er Dad, Amanda,” Max mentioned.
“I know,” he replied, “i've got you a vegetarian alternative Amanda.”
“Er thanks.”

I think sometimes her veggie resolve wavers quite a bit, the German's still haven't widely embraced the concept of not eating meat so the options can be pretty meagre. Its not like she's a hundred percent ardent about it, a few times she's ordered meat dishes out of need although she will do fish – I know, go figure. Anyhow, one of the waitress' took our drinks order and our evening started.
 

“You could've warned us,” I hissed at Max when we 'coincidently' visited the facilities at the same time between the venison and dessert.
“I didn't know, I thought we were eating at the house. Anyhow, Aunt Kate likes you so what's the problem?”

Oooo, men!
 
To say the evening was interesting would be to put it mildly, the Countess was keen to hear all about Kanada but when Max just 'happened' to drop a mention of my singing career, well that shifted the focus of conversation. Ours was not the only conversation at the table although it was the dominant one. I know she doesn't have children of her own but quite why she's latched onto me goodness only knows.

“Its not exactly folk music,” I pointed out.
“I'm glad to hear it.”

That threw me a bit, I thought all Germans over twenty five had to be into that stuff by law or something.

“Erm.”
“I might look like a sophisticated aristo these days but I was quite the rebel in my youth.”
“A punk rocker if you can believe it,” her sister put in.
“That was me,” Catherine admitted, “black lipstick, bright red hair, English boots.”

I'm sure her mother didn't approve but on the other hand I'm reckoning it was more fashion statement that the full on punk ethos that attracted her.

“Gabs is more like Fleetwood Mac meets Slayer,” Max opined.

Well I guess thats one opinion of BlauHase, not sure the guys would agree.

“Sounds like an interesting combination.”
“Er yeah, we do some original stuff and a few covers.”
“Anything I might know?”
“She does an awesome Bohemian Rhapsody,” Manda put forward.
“From the Queen? Freddy Mercury?”
“Er yeah,” I agreed.
“I'm impressed,” she turned to my parents, “you must be very proud, you have a very surprising daighter.”
“Well thats one description,” Mum allowed.
“An accomplished sportswoman, entertainer, a definate beauty and Gloria tells me she is no klutz in the classroom either, a combination that's rare indeed!”

Well of course, praise always has the same effect on me, I could feel my face warm and colour up even as she spoke.

“Leave the poor girl alone.”

My saviour was unexpected, the Countess' mother.

“Sorry Gaby, I get a bit carried away sometimes.”
 
“That got a bit intense,” Mand noted as we waited for the rents to finish the farewells.
“No kidding,” I agreed with a sigh.
“It was like some sort of weird interview,” she went on.
“She was just curious.”
“If you say so.”

My parents joined us in the Saab and we were soon bouncing out of the courtyard, having failed to get anything more than a chaste peck out of Max all evening.

 
“It was nice of Catherine to invite you to Rothenburg in the New Year,” Mum mentioned as I waited for my toast the following morning.
“Er yeah,” I acknowledged, question is, why?
“So I take it you're at the market today?”
“Uh huh, Thomas is gonna take us down with the fresh stuff, I need to be at the bakery for just after ten.”
“So I suppose you'd like a lift back after?”
“Please.”

my toast chose that moment to make a break for freedom, I was still juggling when Dad appeared.

“Well that's that sorted out.”
“Sorted what out?” I queried.
“Christmas.”
“So what's the plan?” Mum asked pouring Pater a cup of tea.
“We'll put her on the train Friday and we'll meet up on Wednesday at Watford Gap, I need her mum to go over some paperwork for me.”

Ah, he's talking about Mand, hang on, Watford Gap, that's England.

“We're going to Gran's?”
“I thought we told you,” Mum queried.
Did they? Well I guess its a thing now, “so when do we go?”

Apparently we're flying from Dusseldorf at silly o'clock on Friday so we're going up Thursday evening, having dinner with the Grönberg's, then spending the night at one of the airport hostelries. Mand's going down to see her family, staying at her grandparents rather than with her mother, then its like the outwards journey in reverse on Thursday. There's only the three of us, Jules is staying with Boris, well her loss, so its not gonna be such a bear pit at Gran's cottage – I might even get in the bathroom.

Of course, that does mean I'm gonna miss the last weekend of the Weihnachtsmarkt, today will be my last session. That's a bit of a bummer, I enjoy doing it although I won't miss the carol singing – I always end up doing a solo. Sugar, Chrimbo prezzies!
 
“I'm sure we'll cope,” Steff told me.
“Its not like we're short of help this year,” Nena agreed.
“I still feel like I'm letting everyone down, I already missed the first weekend.”
“Don't be daft Gab,” Pia added, “you've done plenty, mind you the carols won't be the same.”
“The rest of us might get a look in,” Bridg mumbled.
“You guys opening up or what?” Freddy queried from the doorway.
“If we must,” Con replied with a theatrical eye roll.
 
Sundays are always a bit slow getting started, a lot of people have family time in the morning and of course at this time of year, a fair bit of church going. It was a bit of a surprise therefore to find a significant number of visitors around shortly after eleven when Sunday trading starts.

“Auslander,” Bridg advised as she waited for her first order.
“Really?” I asked.
“Englisher I think,” she confirmed.

I hadn't really been paying much attention to the conversation, the old Gaggia needs a bit of tlc to keep it running, but now I concentrated on it I could pick out some foreign language across the Kabin. I suppose we shouldn't be too surprised, I know they run special coach trips to visit the Weihnachtsmarkt but its usually the big cities like Bonn. Don't get me wrong, I like a Christmas market as much as the next girl but it always strikes me as a bit weird to travel hundreds of miles to visit them, maybe we're spoilt here.

“Isn't that one of the coach drivers from the summer?” Pia suggested pointing toward the window with her chin.
“Where?”
“By the door.”
I looked over, “Dennis I think, he's probably brought this lot, some of the coaches stop down in Remagen for the markets.”
“How'd you know?”
“Some people I knew in England came on a trip, last year maybe.”
“I thought they just went to Köln?”
“Apparently not,” I pointed out.

“Hello again,” I offerred in English when I delivered the coffee and Raclette a couple of minutes later.

He looked a little confused, probably trying to place me.

“It is Dennis right?”
“Er yeah, sorry....?”
“Gaby, from the vineyard in the summer?”
“Oh of course, sorry, you meet so many people doing this job, but I should've recognised you.”
“No biggy, so how comes you're here at our little market?”
“Chris, I mean Nena picked up a flyer in the summer, thought it would make a change from Cologne and Bonn all the time.”
“Nena, that's the one with short blonde hair? She not with you?”
“Got her own bus this time, they've gone to Koblenz this morning, we swap after lunch so you might see her this afternoon.”
“That'd be nice.”
“So is the restaurant doing this place,” he motioned at the kabin.
“No, me and some friends put it on to raise funds for the Kinderhaus, we started from school and well, here we are again.”
“Wouldn't a sponsored walk or something be easier, this looks like a lot of work.”
“We get the Kabin donated and a few local businesses support us with stuff, we raise a fair amount, I guess its easier to donate when its part of the price for the coffee.”
“I hadn't thought of it like that,” he allowed, “so how much do I owe you?”
“On the house, you've brought this lot after all.”
“I feel awkward now, let me at least put something in the collecting tin.”
“Thats up to you, these are on us though.”
“I'll not argue,” he sighed.
“And if you speak to Nena tell her to come see me too.”
“Gab,” Con called across, “the machine's playing up.”
“Best go sort that out, its been nice to see you.”
“And you Gaby and thanks again for, you know.”
I gave him a wink, “no problem.”

“So what was that all about?” Steff asked as I cleaned out the blocked nozzle on the Gaggia.
“He's the Busfahrer from the summer, you know the trippers up at Pia's?”
“Those dinner things?”
“Yeah, so his colleague heard about the market and thought their customers would like it, et voila we get a bonus lot of customers.”
“Nice,” she acknowledged, “wonder what they think of little Ahrweiler compared to the big cities?”
“Well they look quite happy,” I pointed out, “anyhow, his colleague is bringing another bus this afternoon.”
“Looks like we're going to be busy.”
I slotted the dripper back into place, “there we go.”
“What was it?”
“I think there's a filter missing somewhere so the nozzle gets blocked. Can you hold the fort for a mo, I need to talk to Con.”
“Sure.”

“Dad says he'll be down with it in about thirty minutes.”
“Cheese too?”
“Yep, extra bread's no good without something to go on top,” Con pointed out.
“Soz its just that it'd be a shame to run out when we can expect to be busy.”
“Yeah, what are the chances though?”
“I know, we got enough crocks?”
“Max should be back with a load anytime, he's having to do it all today.”
“Maybe we should send one of the newbies to help?”
“Never thought, next time.”

 
Although it was still cool, the day was proving to be a bit more clement than yesterday, the sky was clear and a weak sun was bright enough to cast harsh shadows. We were continuously busy through lunchtime, the coach passengers replaced by a more local clientel out to enjoy the fine day with family and friends. If our Raclette sales were anything to go by, the würst and waffle stalls must be doing good business.

I lost all sense of time, when I did eventually look outside the week sunlight was already fading, the sky, what little I could see of it, already having lost its brightness. Nena, the bus one rather than my friend that is, is a bit difficult to miss, pretty but not a raving beauty but that near white hair really stands out in a crowd. I think we pretty much spotted each other at the same moment as she came into the Kabin.

“Gaby, Dennis said he'd seen you here,” she said coming over to the counter.
“It was quite a surprise to see him,” I allowed, “you've been promoted? You're own bus?”
“Depends how you look at it, we usually have a courier but not this year, I think the boss is trying to cut costs, so we are driver, courier and bus washer for this trip.”
“I'm sure you're good at it,” I opined, “you want coffee?”
“That would be nice, I can't even have a Glühwein with driving, well I could but I don't want to risk it.”
“Go sit, I'll bring it over.”

“Thought i'd join you,” I told her depositing not just the coffee but a couple of portions of Raclette – well i've not had any lunch and its like gone three now.
“Ooh, Raclette right, not had this for an age, its not usually on the markets is it?
“Not up here, they had it when I was in Austria the other week,” I told her.
“Austria?”
“Our bike team had a training camp,” I forked a bit of the food into my mouth, hmm.
“Odd place to go in December with bikes, this is pretty good.”
“Yeah,” I agreed which sort of replied to both parts of that, “a lot of the roads are actually clear and we did go skiing a couple of days.”
“Oh I know they keep the roads open, i'd just never think of taking biycles this time of year.”
“So, you go back to England tomorrow?”
She sighed, “yeah, up to Aachen for lunch then across to Calais, with luck I'll be back in Sutton about midnight.”
“Near Mansfield?”
“Thats the one, good ole Sutton in Ashfield, why, do you know it?”
“We used to live in Warsop,” I mentioned.
“Up on the Worksop road, of course you said before, I forgot that you're English, you've been fully assimilated,” she chuckled.
“Yeah,” I agreed with a bit of a sigh.
“You regret coming here?”
“Its not like I had a lot of choice, that sounds wrong,” I back tracked, “i voted to come but my life is so different to how it was, how it would've been in England.”

Nena looked thoughtful herself, “we can't live on regrets and maybe's.”
“You regret moving to England?”
“It wasn't quite the same for me.”
“You still moved away from all your friends and memories,” I pointed out.

She looked, I dunno, a little puzzled by that.

“Perhaps I did.”
 
“So maybe I'll see you in the spring,” Nena suggested as she prepared to depart.
“If I'm around, I'm sure Helmut will rope me in to wait tables again.”
“Well good luck with your racing, take care.”
“And you, I hope things work out with the boss.”
She gave a wry smile, “i'm sure it will, tschuss Gaby.”
“Tschuss.”

“Right young lady,” Mum addressed me as I slouched on the sofa still be-dirndled, “we are not having the usual last minute packing panic.”
“Its not a panic.”

Mum just gave me that look, you know the one, it seemed politic not to argue the point further.

“Your Dad wants everything in the car before lunch on Thursday, we'll eat and get straight off, where's your Passport?”
“Erm.”
“This is what I'm getting at Gaby, we'll find it tomorrow, if you've got washing put it out I'll do it with ours tomorrow.”
“'kay,” I agreed.
 
© Maddy Bell 17.05.2019