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?

 
“You sure you don't want to come mum?” Mum asked Gran for about the tenth time this morning.
“I'm sure, I need to pick up the meat and I'm meeting the girls in town, now stop fussing, Dave's chomping at the bit out there.”

You can say that again, he's been out there for like ten minutes.

“I don't know what time we'll be back,” Mum told her mother.
“You've got keys right Gaby?”

I dangled the spare cottage set in confirmation.

“And I'm sure one of you can work out how to use a telephone,” Gran went on, “now scoot!”

Mum gave Gran a quick half hug, I did a more full bodied version.

“Have a good day Gab.”
“If we can control Mum,” I opined with a roll of my eyes.

Gran followed us out to the front and waved us off on our excursion, a day visiting friends and family in our old stomping ground of Warsop. Between Gran's and Warsop lies a two hour drive across the Pennines, hence Dad wanting to get away sharp. We negotiated Nantwich and picked up the Macclesfield road to take us across Cheshire towards the distant hills of the Peak District.

I suppose they almost qualify as mountains, some are certainly as high as the Eiffel and definitely wilder. I've not ridden them very much even if we've made the reverse of this journey quite a lot in the past. Well Warsop is nearly as far the other side as Nantwich is this, so our visits were almost always in the camper or car.

I peered out at the English countryside, so clearly Cheshire, the white railings at each junction, the stark skeletons of Oak trees in the fields bounded by low hedges. Mum reckons you can tell where you are in the country by picking up these sorts of clues, it might not be foolproof but it does sort of work. Back in Germany it wouldn't be so easy, a lot of the countryside is sort of generic, the river valleys of the Eifel could just as easily be in Bavaria or Hesse, even the buildings are fairly interchangeable.

We crossed the M6 and soon the confusing one way system of Macclesfield gave way to the western reaches of the Pennines. On this flank it goes from the lightly rolling Cheshire Plain pretty much straight into the angular hills by way of the ancient Psalter routes into the heart of the Peaks. Although its an A road its not very wide and in places it twists about and rears quite steeply upwards before the countryside opens out into sparse farmland and open moorland.

On a clear day you can see across to Welsh Wales from up here, Snowdon even but today was wintry grey, the view fading not far beyond the edge of the uplands. We passed the Cat & Fiddle pub at the summit and started the descent towards Buxton, the senior spa town of the north. The hill tops were shrouded in cloud and as we dropped from the high moor the sky started to leak – well I guess it is December.

We didn't need to go right into Buxton, instead cutting across to the A6 for the transit to Bakewell of pudding fame. The distinctive drystone walls stretched across the lumpy countryside, only the sinuous wooded valleys down to the Wye breaking the stark view from the Ford's stark interior. By the time we picked up the Chesterfield road my bum was getting distinctly uncomfortable.

The Eastern Edges of the Peak District may not be as high but the climb over is still quite serious although the countryside is a bit 'softer. I spotted the crooked spire as we started to descend, not far until the familiar roads of Robin Hood land. Drystone gave way to thorn hedges as we dropped from the heights into Chesterfield, an altogether different feel to Cheshire.

“Thats new,” I noted as we skirted the town centre, 'that' being what the Americans and Canadians call a strip mall, in Englandshire its called a retail park.
“Carol said they were building one,” Mum mentioned.

I looked over at the stores, the parking was full, this close to Chrimbo they'll be full of last minute shoppers. We don't really have this sort of place at home, even out of town shopping centres are rare. Dad navigated us onto the almost motorway towards Mansfield, we'll be in Warsop in under thirty minutes from here.

You can follow this road, the A617, to Mansfield then pick up the Worksop road to get to Warsop but the town caught trafficlightitus and its not very direct either so we generally take the lanes. We crossed the M1, down the dip and up through Glapwell before taking the lane to Stony Houghton. From there its but a short leg down into Shirebrook to pick up the road across through Warsop Vale and suddenly we were at the Church, very familiar as one of our playgrounds.

Across Church Road and into Eastlands Lane, around the bend, turn left and there it was, the Peters place. Its not changed one bit, oh the plants have grown up some but the door is the same colour, the curtains look to be the same and Aunt Carol has the same people carrier parked on the front. Dad pulled the Focus up on the road, I guess there had been a watch for us as Mad and her mum were both at the kerb, Uncle John following on, before we were out of the car.
 
“Hello strangers,” Aunt Carol greeted, “no Juliette?”
“She decided staying with Boris was more exciting than a trip to see friends and family,” Mum told them.

By now Dad was out of the car and exchanging pleasantries with Uncle John which left just me and Mad.

“Wotcha,” Mad offered.
“Heya,” I returned, I'm not quite sure where our relationship is at the moment.

So okay she's my cousin, well second cousin if we are being pedantic, before we moved to Germany we were sort of a couple, well I and Mad, thought I was a boy. Clearly things have changed, we sort of fell out over Bern and I guess you might say we're estranged. Oh I was as worried as anyone when she went missing back in the autumn, I suppose too much has changed for us to ever get close to where we were before.

“Come on you two,” Aunt Carol encouraged, “i'm sure Gab would like a cuppa.”

We all trooped inside, a place that as a kid i'd be almost every day. Whilst outside the Peters place was pretty much unchanged, inside it wasn't the familiar place I thought it would be. Oh it was the same sofa that I remember but the walls have changed colour, the furniture has moved around, there was a new family portrait in the hall with them all in Star Trek Next Gen uniforms, I forgot that my Aunt and Uncle are devoted Trekkies.

So it wasn't a complete change but a collection of subtle things that you'd not notice if you were here all the time. I guess it would be the same for someone visiting Bond Acres, the new TV we got in the summer, the poster for the World Champs Dad framed. I think my cousin is under orders, she didn't complain when her mum suggested she help with the tea things.

Aunt C must've had everything ready as they returned almost immediately with tea and what looked like one of her famous layer cakes.

“We'll just have this now, everyone okay with spag bol for lunch?”

My ears pricked up, lunch?

“You don't need to put yourself out Carol,” Mum suggested.

Mu-um.

“Its no problem Jen, we need to eat anyway, spaghetti is hardly haute cuisine, you okay with that Gaby?”

Why wouldn't I be?

“Um, yes please, I mean that'd be nice thanks.”

Tea was poured, cake distributed and conversations rebooted. The Dad's were soon deep discussing cars, the Mum's discussing mum type things which left me and Mad again.

“You wanna go up?”
I shrugged, “sure,”
“We'll be upstairs,” Mad directed towards her mum.
“Use the tray, I don't want tea on that carpet again.”
“Yes Mum.”
 
While Mad sorted out the refreshments I slipped my shoes off and pulled the thin slippers i'd brought on in their stead. Well its better than going bare socked and they fit in my bag, a tip I picked up from my girl friends back home. Mad led the way upstairs and into her room, a room full of Cosplay stuff and not a lot of anything else, okay she was never a girly girl but this is like, well obsession.

“So what've you been up to?” I posed, “no more stowing away?”
“Har, har, its not like I intended to do that,” she pointed out.

I'm not sure I ever got the full story but today isn't the time to pursue it.

“So?”
she sighed, “not a lot really, I'm still sort of grounded.”
“You must've done something.”
“Not exactly exciting, me an' Ally went to Manchester yesterday, that took some persuading.”
“Yesterday? I was there with Gran.”
“You're kidding?”
“Straight up, she wanted to take a look at the German market so we drove up.”
“Damn, we coulda met up, its a wonder we didn't see you anyhow, we spent ages at the market.”
“Its a big place,” I allowed, “we most likely walked past each other.”
“Yeah,” she agreed.
“So what did you think?”
“It was okay I guess, we did score some of that hot wine stuff.”
“How'd you manage that? I thought they were carding?”
“Fake ID,” she grinned.
“Fake!”
“Shush!”
“How? What?”

She went in the drawer of her bedside cabinet and handed me a laminated card.

“What's this?”
“Driving licence.”
“How...?”
“Did I get it?” she tapped the side of her nose, “have to know the right people.”

I studied the card, it looked like the real McCoy, all Mad's details but the date of birth was wrong, instead of 1990 it said 1987.

“Its in your name,” I pointed out.
“Why wouldn't it be? They only check the date and if its in my name there's no need to remember made up names and stuff.”
I suppose that makes sense, “what about Ally, she got one of these?”
“Nah, no point, they only ever card the one buying so if we go drinking I do the buying.”
“Drinking?”
“Oh come on Gab, I know you drink.”

well I guess there's no denying that, but at home it is legal at least.

“What about you?” she went on.
“We did our local market again,” I allowed.
“In those Shrek costumes?” she grinned.
“They were not Shrek costumes, they were Mittelalter.”
“Whatever.”
“Actually we wore Kostum this year.”
“Santa's sexy helpers,” she suggested.
“No Kostum, you know, Oktoberfest, lots of chest on display.”
“Eh?”
“Hang on, i've got a picture on my Handy.”
 
“And to think we struggled to get you to wear a skirt.”

As my cousin scrolled through the pictures on the Handy my memory wandered back to those days in this very room. Of course things were very much different back then, I didn't even know I was a girl let alone want to dress as one. Looking back I guess all the signs were there, my best friends were girls, we went shopping together and I was often mistaken for Mad's twin even if I was jeans and stuff.

“Who's this?” Mad asked turning the screen so I could see the tiny image.
“Soph.”
“I don't remember meeting her when I was over.”
“You didn't, she lives down in Stuttgart,” I informed her.
“So how'd you know her, she's not on your bike team.”
“Hardly, she's Max's cousin, several times removed I think, we only see each other at family events, that was her sister's wedding.”
“Hark at you.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” she sighed flopping back onto her bed, “you get all the luck, I can't even get a decent boyfriend.”
“I wasn't exactly looking for one.”
“Just my point, Max chases after you with no encouragement, all I can manage is a Sci Fi geek, i've never even been to his house.”
“I thought you were dumping him?”
“I have, well sort of,” she demurred.
“You either have or haven't,” I stated.
“It's not like i've got a queue in the wings.”
“Maybe its the geek thing,” I suggested.
“I am so not a geek,” she snapped.
“So this is someone elses room then?”
She let out a deep sigh, “you're probably right.”
 
“You two coming down?” Aunt Carol called upstairs.
“Five minutes,” Mad returned.
“Sit still,” I instructed.

Look, I'm not exactly brilliant at hair and makeup and doing it on someone else, well its tricky okay. Why I suggested the impromptu makeover is anyones guess but Mad was keen so it was a fait acomplii. Mad usually does less than me or its full on for the cosplay stuff unless its for cheer which is over the top, the idea was to give her a more, I dunno, upmarket everyday look.

I'd already done her hair into a sort of chignon, swapped her Trekkie earrings to simple gold hoops (i've usually got some in my bag that I wear at the Kabin and for racing) and got rid of the green nail varnish. I know its a bit pot and kettle but if this was typical of her dressing, well it was hardly boyfriend attractive, a quick rummage in her wardrobe revealed a short denim bib and braces, a white roll neck jumper to which we added a pair of off white winter tights – nothing too fancy but quite cute.

“You really ought to get some better makeup,” I observed as I applied a second coat of blue mascara to her lashes.
“I suppose you use all those fancy brands.”
“Not always, where did you get this stuff, Toys R Us®?”
“Ha, har, Manny market if you must know.”
I stood back, “a lot better.”

Mad turned around to look in the dressing table mirror.

“I look like you.”
“That was sort of the idea,” I pointed out, “come on, they'll be waiting for us.”
 

As expected, the spag bol was excellent. It might be a simple thing to make but it defeats some people, you get something either very bland or more like chilli and as for the pasta, there's nothing worse than slimy or undercooked spaghetti. Aunt Carol gets it right every time.

“Do you want to come with me and your Dad this afternoon?” Mum enquired as I chased the last strands of pasta around my bowl.
“Where are you going?”
“We're going to see Geoff and Bren for a bit, you can stay here with Maddie if you want.”

Geoff Wood was my old headmaster at Warsop College, Mum used to be a teacher there so visiting the Wood's at their house in Edwinstowe was a regular occurance growing up. The last time I saw the Wood's they were on one of those Global trips that've been dining at Pia's place, Woody didn't look particularly well.

“We could go see Ally,” Mad proposed.

It wasn't a hard choice, an afternoon twiddling my thumbs in Edwinstowe or hanging out with the girls, hmm, let me think now.
 
Uncle John and Aunt Carol were going out visiting too, we could've got a lift with them but it was, if not warm, at least dry and reasonably bright so we set out to walk across town. Of course, whilst its not that long since I was last here, even small changes stand out, we used to spend a lot of time on the Carrs but even that has changed with an extended car park and new seats and bins.

“Do you guys still come out here?” I asked as we walked along the path by the Meden towards the town bridge.
Mad gave a non commital shrug, “not much, it gets full of dopers and motorbikes.”

It was hard to believe that the tranquil meadow was like that, don't get me wrong, there are drugs and yobs back home but certainly in the backwater of the Ahrtal we aren't really exposed to it in the same way. Its not difficult to see how Bern got dragged into it all, its not like there's a lot going on in Warsop. Even today, Christmas Eve, I could see a group of yoofs over on the path to the 'new' estate, I was quite happy that we weren't going that way.

Ally lives off Mansfield Road, on the southern edge of Warsop so we ended up walking along the main road. Its not a long way, five minutes by bike but it was nearly three quarters of an hour before we arrived at the Lacey's home. Clearly there was some sort of bad taste competition going on, the outside was covered in tacky decorations, even now Reindeer were flashing, messages strobed and an inflatable Santa bobbed about over the door.
 
We didn't have to wait long at the door, Al knew we were coming and was expecting us.

“Sorry about this lot,” she greeted, “hi Gab.”
“Er hi,” I returned as I entered her home.
“What happened to you Mad?”
“Gaby happened,” Mad replied with an eye roll.
“You didn't have to agree to it,” I pointed out.
“Well you look pretty cute,” Ally told her, “i feel under dressed.”

Al was wearing typical teen garb, not German style but the scruffier leggings, t-shirt and flats which seems endemic in England – I even felt over dressed in jeans and ankle boots.

“Come on through.”
“Where're your Rents,” Mad asked.
“'round at my Nan's.”
 
© Maddy Bell 25.06.2019