Whatever Next? Chapter 19 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

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(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

Harry went to see the games master, with moral support from Gaby, Maddy and William, who followed like a small posse. “It might have been courteous of you to see me before setting up a session,” said the teacher, shaking his head, “but at least you’ve come now.”

He paused to let this take its affect before continuing. “I’ve received the invitation from Bryanston School, apparently six schools have been invited to submit teams. As it’s on private property, the teams can be mixed or single sex. The course is around the school ring road, and will be thirty miles in total, about ten laps. There will be a prize for the winning school of two hundred pounds, plus a bike for the first boy home, and also one for the fastest girl finisher. Prizes are being sponsored by Specialized Bicycles and South Coast Cycles.”

“Do you need another bike, Gabs?” Harry said to his girlfriend.

“Ah, so this is the famous Miss Bond,” the teacher moved over to the group. “I hear you’re going to help us win the bike race.”

Drew swallowed with difficulty, “Erm, I’ll do my best, Sir.”

“I thought from what your boyfriend said it was a foregone conclusion?”

“Um, not really, Sir, bike races are somewhat unpredictable.”

“Okay, young lady, you probably know more about this than I do; cycling is not usually a school sport, too dangerous. However, this school likes a challenge, and we always try our best, eh, Palmer?”

“Sir,” said Harry, nodding.

“We need to find six riders, if you lot come then we need another two.”

“Cox is coming and I wouldn’t be surprised if a few more arrived as well,” Harry said, adding, “Why don’t we start a cycling club, get someone in to show us how to do basic repairs and maintenance, and go for regular rides an’ things?”

“It doesn’t usually work, even specialist cycling clubs struggle to get and retain members. Don’t know why, besides we’d have to get a member of staff to lead it, and I can’t think of anyone who’d be bothered.”

“What about Mrs James, she cycles to school?” said Harry suggesting the Domestic Science teacher.

The games teacher stifled a laugh, “I’ll ask her, but I don’t think she’ll play ball. I can’t see her riding far on that clunker of hers.”

“I tried,” said Harry as they walked back to classes. They all agreed that a school cycling club would be a great idea, except they didn’t think it would happen.

The afternoon passed relatively quickly and soon they were on the bus heading back to the village, where after hugs, they went off to their respective homes.

“Where’s Juliet?”

“Talking with John out by the road,” said Maddy.

“So how was your first day as a schoolgirl?” Carol asked Drew.

“I did it before if you remember, when I modelled the school uniform in the brochure.”

“Goodness, I’d forgotten about that. Still how did it go today?”

“All right, I s’pose.” Drew shrugged his shoulders and went in search of the biscuit tin.

“She got outed,” said Maddy, smirking.

“What? How did that happen?” gasped Carol.

“Thanks to Mighty Gob,” said Drew in between chewing bites of digestive biscuit.

“I was trying to defend you.”

“Gee thanks, that makes it all right then, doesn’t it.”

“I said I was sorry,” Maddy snapped back.

“What, they know Gaby used to be a boy?”

“No, a champion cyclist and her mum being one as well.”

“Oh for a minute, I thought they knew about her as a boy.” Carol felt relief flood her nerves.

“It’s nearly as bad, if they start researching me or Mum on the net, they might find that out.” Drew picked up his bag. “I’m gonna do my homework.” He heard voices as he left the kitchen and went into the lounge. However, within a few minutes he had called up Wikipedia on his laptop and was busy reading articles on bikes.

An hour later, he’d collected enough for his essay, covering the history and development of the bicycle as it evolved into its current form. He noted the original sources of his work and synthesized what he wanted into his essay, adding his personal reasons for thinking it the best invention ever—including enjoyment and freedom, as well as health and fitness.

“Gaby,” said Carol, then moments later she called, “GABY,” which made the teen jump.

He saved his work and went quickly into the kitchen, where they were eating, washing his hands en route. “Sorry to keep you all waiting, I was engrossed in my homework.”

Jules looked astonished. “You, homework, engrossed? Huh?”

“She had to do an essay on her precious bikes,” Maddy smirked.

“Eh?” Jules looked perplexed.

“In technology, the teacher suggested we write about the best invention ever, he said the bike came out on top in a recent survey. Of course, Lancie girl there, got all enthused and blabbed on and on about bikes.”

“I didn’t, I got picked on ‘cos you blabbed earlier,” Drew snapped back.

“Bleh!” Maddy retorted, “Anyway, I’m gonna suggest mascara is the best thing ever invented.”

“Talking of which, Missy, what have you done to your eyelashes?” said Carol as she dished up.

“Nothin’ why?”

“Don’t tell fibs, they’re about half as long again as they were last night.”

“Oh, that, yeah.” Maddy giggled embarrassedly, “I added some false ones.”

“Can you take them off?” asked Carol.

“Not for a few days.”

“Why?”

“They’re stuck with superglue.”

“You silly child, you could have stuck your eyelids together, not to mention they might irritate when you’re in bed.”

“I’m not a child,” said Maddy as she stormed away from the table.

“Shall I go and talk with her?” offered Josie.

“No, she’ll get over it, and I’ll keep some dinner warm for her. She needs to learn these things need some discussion.”

Drew and Jules looked at each other and blushed in embarrassment at the scene they’d just witnessed and tried to change the subject by commenting on the cottage pie Carol had laid before them.

Later Harry phoned and came over to share homework thoughts; he helped Gaby with some English and she in turn, helped him with the technology. “I think your essay on bikes is brill,” trilled Harry to his girlfriend.

“Yeah, I’m quite like, pleased with it myself.”

“Makes mine look pretty, like, naff.”

“We can’t all be geniuses, especially such modest ones,” said Gaby in self mockery which of course made Harry laugh, a real guffaw.

Overhearing the teens talking, Carol said to her aunt, “You know, if Gaby cut Harry’s head off, he’d approve and probably laugh.”

“Oh, I saw that in some film once, one of those knights in armour ones, where the young knight was challenged to cut off the bigger knight’s head, which he did reluctantly, and the head continued talking afterwards. A bit silly if you ask me.”

“Aunt Josie, I think it’s called, Gawain and the Green Knight, or something like that, John quite enjoys that sort of thing, it’s part of the Arthurian cycle, I think.”

“I don’t care if it’s part of Arthur’s bicycle, it was a load of codswallop,” the older woman replied.

“Arthur who’s bicycle?” asked Gaby coming to get Harry and her some drinks.

“You shouldn’t listen to other folk’s conversations, missy, you know what they say about eavesdroppers?...”

“They drop off the eaves?” Gaby suggested.

“No, they seldom hear well of themselves.”

“That’s maybe, like better than, like falling off the roof.”

“Take your drinks and look after Harry, he is, after all, your guest.”

“Yeah, I guest so,” said Gaby giggling and rushing out of the kitchen.

~~~~~~

The next morning, Gaby, Harry, Maddy and William set off on the school bus, they would not however be coming home by it. William’s dad had agreed to take the bikes—that had materialised by their garage—to the school in time for their bike session.

The children had already got their riding kit with them, which for three of the four meant proper cycling gear–Maddy had borrowed some of Gaby’s, and was using the Bianchi—Jenny used as her training bike.

William, realising that this was as good a time as any to persuade his dad to buy him a road bike, began to play on the fact that he was the only one of the four, who didn’t have a decent bike.

There had been arguments until his mother interceded and he agreed with her suggestion that, it would count as his birthday and Christmas presents. He hoped they might forget by then. All he had to do now was to persuade Gaby to chat up Matt to get him as good a discount as she could. At least that was his plan, he wondered if he might have to work on it.

The morning went quite quickly with double maths and geography, followed by history and biology. At lunch, Gaby achieved almost celebrity status based on her exploits the day before, where she lived up to the accolades, bantering with the dinner ladies.

“Look out it’s Lady Muck, again,” called the supervisor. “Sorry we don’t have any canapes today, your ladyship.”

Normally such an expression would have had Drew floundering, except he’d heard it before and knew what they were talking about. “I suppose you’ve forgotten the cocktails as well?” Gaby replied holding her nose in the air.

“No, we have mineral water, iced mineral water, sparkling mineral water or still mineral water. We can mix three of them for you, but you’d have to buy all three bottles;” the supervisor thought, ‘Got her.’

“Shaken not stirred, I hope.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s Jane Bond!” exclaimed the supervisor.

“No, the name’s Bond, Gaby Bond, double A cup.”

At this, the whole queue collapsed laughing, and the supervisor had tears running down her cheeks. She shook her head, wondering what they could say or do to get their own back.

Gaby ended up with a salmon salad and the still mineral water. However, she also snaffled a banana for later on, before the practice session.

“You realise, that after today, kids will be staying in to dinners to see what happens tomorrow.” William said, having enjoyed the repartee as much as anyone.

After lunch, Gaby and Maddy’s set had domestic science. This was newly back on the curriculum by direct instruction of the government, who were trying to get people to eat more wholesome food and reduce obesity.

Gaby entered the room with a degree of fear and trepidation. This was going to be about cooking and cleaning and so on. Neither were favoured subjects, although eating was. Now a gourmet class would have had her sign up immediately.

Mrs James explained the objectives of the class were to teach the science of healthy eating, by understanding the qualities of different foods. No food was bad of itself, just the amount or way we ate it.

Gaby began to think, there just might be a modicum of usefulness, better eating could improve performance. She didn’t feel quite so bored by the rest of the lesson. As the bell went, Mrs James said, “Those who were enquiring about the possibility of a cycling club should wait behind for a few minutes."

Essentially this meant, Maddy, Gaby and a boy whose name they didn’t know. Mrs James peered at them, “Okay, who’s idea was it to suggest I might run a bike club?”

“Dunno, Miss,” they all said and nodded in agreement with each other.

“Which one of you is the cycling champion?” They all pointed at Gaby. “Right, I have a proposition for you. I’ll come and support you, as the designated teacher.” They all sighed in relief. “But, I expect the favour returned.” This brought a different sort of buzz to the group. “Mrs Smith is having trouble with the needlework club, we need more members. So you, Miss Cycling Champion and cousin—if you want me to head your cycling club—you’d better sign up for the needlework club.”

The boy asked a question. “Do the boys have to sign up for sewing as well?”

“That’s a difficult one Anthony, in this age of equality, I’d like to say yes, you should. However, I can’t. I will say, you’d be very welcome.”

“Um, I don’t know, my nan did a thing with numbers and letters on it, I’d like to do one myself. Does that sound like, silly or poofy?”

Gaby felt herself blush, the boy was obviously struggling with the sexism perceived in needlework. She knew the feeling.

“No, it’s neither silly nor effeminate, neither are you, Anthony. The piece you describe sounds like something we call a sampler, they were very popular in your nan’s time as a schoolgirl. I think it’s very brave of you to even consider doing it.”

The boy blushed and mumbled he had to go. “Well, Miss Tour de France, what’s it going to be?”

“I don’t have a lot of choice, do I?”

“But you do, sign up for sewing and I’ll sign up for cycling. It’s up to you.”

“How long do I have to think it over?”

“About two seconds.”

“That’s not fair, it’s blackmail.”

“Tut tut, I prefer to call it bargaining. You scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours. Biologists call it mutualism, a form of common reciprocation between groups or individuals. So what’s it going to be?”

“Duh! Where do I sign up for stupid sewing?”

“Sewing is not stupid, young lady, so I hope you change your attitude quickly or you’ll find the club very hard work.”

Maddy and Gaby rushed to their next class, they were late and had to apologise. It so happened that the next teacher was Mrs Smith, the needlework and physics teacher.

“Sorry we’re late Mrs Smith, Mrs James needed to talk with us,” said Gaby.

“And?”

“We decided we’d like to join your needlework class, it sounds such cracking fun.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, young lady. However, I shall hold you to your request to join, maybe we can teach how to sew yourself a new attitude.”

Gaby and Maddy went off to the girls’ loos to change into their cycling kit, and clomped their way on cycling shoes out to the front of the school, where Harry and William were helping to unload the bikes from the Bugler’s car. “Can we leave our bags in the car, Mr Bugler?” asked Gaby.

“Course you can, Sweetheart, doors are open.” The girls left their bags on the back seat. William and Harry soon followed suit. The bikes were checked by Gaby and Harry, who was picking up tips very quickly. “How long are you going to be?”

“An hour or so, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah, that’s fine, I’ve got me book t’read.”

They took the bikes into the main yard of the school, which was lined for tennis and various other sports all in different colours. Besides the four of Gaby’s crew, there were four others, including David Cox and Anthony.

“ ‘Ere, what’s this I ‘ear about you signing up for the sewing club? Yer big pansy!” Cox mocked Anthony.

Anthony blushed, not wanting to start a fight which would result in him losing heavily. However, his face was saved by Mrs James, who had heard the insult and decided to intervene.

“David Cox, I should have known it was you. I find it astonishing that you need to cast aspersions about someone’s sense of masculinity, when it is obvious to everyone that Anthony has a stronger sense of security in his masculinity than you do.”

“Whattayamean Miss?” gasped Cox.

“I mean that boys who undertake activities often associated with more feminine things, aren’t necessarily effeminate or gay. They’re often less so than those who seek to insult or tease them, who might be repressed sexual inverts.”

“What does that mean?” asked Cox, still bemused.

“It means, you’re more of a poof than Anthony is,” said Harry, enjoying the protection of the teacher.

“Get stuffed, Palmer. I ain’t no poof an’ you know it.”

“Join the sewing club then, like Anthony did,” said Maddy.

“You gonna be there?”

“Yeah, looks like.”

“An’ this won’t make me look like a fairy?”

“Not unless you want it to,” reassured Maddy.

“Will you help me thread a needle then?” Cox asked Mad.

“Ooh, that might be arranged.”

“If I don’t like it, or feel stupid, can I leave?”

“Mr Cox, I doubt much could make you feel more stupid than you already are, but, yes you may terminate our little contract by mutual consent.” Mrs James thoroughly enjoyed her moment of triumph of wiles over brawn.

“What she say?”

“Yes, you can,” translated Maddy.

“Alright then, I’ll give it a whirl.”

Harry smirked, desperately stifling a giggle, of schadenfreude. However, his joy was short lived when he became Mrs James’ next victim. “Ah, Mr Palmer would I’m sure be delighted to keep both Messrs Cox and Purbright company.”

“The hell I would,” said Harry in a poor imitation of John Wayne.

“Aren’t you going to keep your lady friend company then?” said Mrs James playing on the conscience of the young man.

“But she’s a girl and she likes sewing, she even mended this cycling shirt, see, you can hardly see the repair.” Gaby blushed and reinstated Harry on her ‘death’ list—he was going to suffer this session if she had anything to do with it. Then Gaby thought of a better way to retaliate: she encouraged Harry to sign up for the sewing class.

“Go on Harry, Mad and I will be there, and we’ll be like, lonely without you.” Unsaid was, ‘then you can sew your own bloody shirts, you chauvinist pig!’

“Oh, all right then,” Harry blushed but acceded to Gaby’s request, as she knew he would. At this rate the sewing club would have more boys than girls, a thought which much amused Mrs James.

“Thank you, Mr Palmer, right Miss Double A Cup, over to you, as I know nothing about bike racing.”

Gaby spent the next ten minutes finding out how fit everyone was. The answer was, ‘not very’, so she had them riding around the block, which at times was a little hairy. Dorchester Middle School is in the area known as Victoria Park, which is quite built up in a mixture of council and private houses. A little up the road from it is Thomas Hardye’s School, and alongside it is the leisure centre and Dorchester Rugby club.

In a short time it became obvious that they needed a miracle if they were going to win any sort of bike race. Cox had potential, although he was riding a decent mountain bike. William was a bit slow compared to Harry and Gaby, and Maddy was a little faster than Cox. Anthony and the others were next to useless.

With little or no hills around, and the suggestion that the Bryanston driveway had a steep slope in places, the team from the school had no chance, except possibly with Harry and Gaby. So she urged them to cycle at every opportunity, and to ride as fast as they could whenever they cycled. Hardly training, but better than nothing.

“You’ve watched all the others ride, how about you, showing us how it’s done?” Mrs James challenged the two-wheeled tornado. The speed humps in the road were going to be a nuisance, but Gaby decided to show them a bit about speed and fitness. She did two fairly quick laps of the yard to warm up and then set off down the road at a fair lick doing the circuit around the block in three minutes. Harry, then did one and took nearly a minute longer.

Cox borrowed Harry’s bike and shoes and took half a minute longer than Harry. “Nice bike,” he said handing it and the shoes back, although they had to catch him before he fell off, being unused to clipless pedals.

After they’d all finished and decided Gaby could race a bike, they promised to meet again on Sunday and go for a ride together. On the Saturday, Gaby and Harry were off to Newport, in Wales to watch the Women’s World Cup race–the first time it had been held in the UK.

“I’m gonna ride home if that’s okay?” Gaby said to the others, feeling in need of a real ride.

“I’ll come with you,” said Harry, “anyone else?” Maddy eventually decided the ride might do her some good, and William complained he could have done if he’d had a decent bike. Suitably embarrassed, his father agreed to take him to purchase one as soon as they could. William winked at Harry, who chuckled back.

The ride back took just under twenty minutes, Maddy arriving several minutes after Harry, who was a couple of minutes behind the wunderkind. “I’m looking forward to the World Cup on Saturday,” said Gaby.

“Yeah, so am I, Mum and Dad are coming, and dropping us off near the start-finish line, they’re going shopping and will pick us up at tea time. Is that okay?”

“Dunno, I mean, it’s a long time to be hanging around, isn’t it?”

“Oh, sorry. We’re taking the bikes, if that’s okay?”

“Now yer talking,” said Gaby and pecked him on the cheek.