Whatever Next? Chapter 27 by Angharad Copyright© 2022 Angharad

(title picture Andrea Piacquadio)

The adulation of the other pupils after the bike race at Bryanston was relatively short-lived and school became—as it should be—a place of education. Gaby and Maddy kept up with the curriculum as it was very similar to Warsop. The new laptop came into its own and with John sending them a wi-fi connector, all three of the children could access the internet. Somehow, John had managed to negotiate a short-term contract for broadband, so Maddy was able to email her dad a couple of times a week.

Gaby did likewise, and she wasn’t sure if Dave was pleased or not when Matt arrived at the school and along with Frank Bower from Specialized, presented her with a carbon fibre, S-Works women’s bike, with Shimano Dura-Ace gears. Bower was still hoping to tempt her into riding for them and although he’d missed the race, he saw the video that Tim had taken of it. Like Matt, Frank Bower knew talent when he saw it and he knew that with the right coaching and equipment, Gaby was a champion in waiting on an international stage.

It was the best bike Gaby had possessed and had been based upon the prototype that had been destroyed by Meadows in the Weymouth race. Weighing a little over fifteen pounds, the whole school cheered when she accepted the bike and then lifted it above her head.

The presentation was a surprise to her and she’d worn a skirt that day so when Maddy hissed at her, “Put it down they can see yer knickers,” the new bike almost got dropped before she’d even ridden it.

Of course, the local paper had to take photos of her sitting on it in a skirt and heeled shoes, so she hardly looked the champion she was. However, they snapped one or two pictures which appeared the next day and would make Meadows smile.

“Keep enjoying yerself, girl, it won’t last I can guarantee that.” He laughed to himself and at the next opportunity he would phone the house again and watch the frenzy that followed his call. Yes, next week would do, let her think he’d crawled back under his stone, whereas in fact, he was living in a rented house in Weymouth, as the bearded Mr Field.

He couldn’t understand how he seemed to pass the police without anyone recognising him. He’d even gone into the police station in Dorchester and reported a lost wallet. He hadn’t lost one, he just wanted to check his disguise—his tanned face, shaggy beard, and hair seemed to change his character completely. Having said that the young WPC he saw at the station had never met his alter ego, so could hardly be blamed for not recognising him. Even Gaby didn’t recognise him when he watched her walk past him with Harry, Maddy, and William. In fact, none of them saw him and he laughed with maniacal glee once he was on his own. Things were going to be easier than he thought.

He continued his nefarious activities increasing his network of drug distributors and supplying them via drug barons from London and the Midlands. In fact, he was dealing with some really heavy types who made his level of activity very small beer, but as long as the money kept flowing they were happy to maintain business acquaintance with him. If he defaulted on his payments then he could expect ruthless retribution. To remind him of their power he was invited up to London to watch an execution of someone who annoyed the Coke Gang. Meadows went very pale and showed them what he’d had for breakfast, deciding that once he’d made enough money he would do something less dangerous.

In fact, the merchandise was being distributed in cans of the best-known soft drink on the planet, in specially sealed plastic packets immersed in the brown fizzy tooth-rotting liquid.

He dealt in Ecstasy, Cannabis, and had now gone over to cocaine as well, which increased his income but also meant the need to trade with the big boys, who gift-wrapped the evil cargo with the soft drink cans. So, to all intents and purposes, he was trading in soft drinks. He thought it ironic that cocaine had allegedly appeared in the original recipe for the soft drink, all he was doing was going back to first principles.

Meanwhile, Gaby was training with Harry, Maddy, and William and they were seriously thinking of joining the local cycling club for more race practice or harder training. Maddy wasn’t so sure, but she had some talent herself, and her feelings for William were increasing seeing as Drew had seemingly disappeared under the girlish body and demeanour of Gaby; in fact, it began to look as if he’d been lost altogether and Gaby was completely taking over.

Josie had been pushing the sewing lessons and Gaby was really learning how to do the basics very well. Josie had brought her sewing machine back with her and so Gaby was getting lessons on that too. The sewing club at school had about ten members, and the cycling club had dropped off in the weeks after the Bryanston race, except for the four regulars and Cox, who was ill with mumps when the actual race took place.

One weekend when it looked as if the weather might hold, Gaby suggested they do a decent ride on their bikes. “Oh just so you can show off on yer new bike,” commented Maddy, who wasn’t entirely enamoured of the idea.

“No, I just thought it was like gonna be a nice day and it would be somethin’ nice to do,” Gaby felt that these days Maddy criticised everything she did and yes, she did want to give the bike a good test and she had, in principle, cleared the idea with Carol.

Of course, Harry was up for it partly because he enjoyed his riding and partly because his love was suggesting it. As his mother had commented, ‘If she told you jumping off White Nothe—a local cliff—was a good idea, you’d do it.’ At the time his only thought was it might be better if his mother did just that, preferably when the tide was out.

William was fairly keen to do some more riding especially if Maddy came along, which he told her. Maddy of course wanted to go shoppin’ as she pronounced her interface with the retail industry and pouting asked, “Where we gonna ride, then?”

“I hadn’t thought that far yet,” admitted Gaby, “but you know, go somewhere, have lunch an’ ride ‘ome afterwards.”

“Well I didn’t think we were gonna like, stay overnight,” said Maddy rolling her eyes.

“What about going to Wareham or Stoborough, then we could come back up through Corfe Castle, down through Wool and back here.” Harry’s idea seemed as good as any. “There’s only one hill, Creech Hill.”

“Did we do that one once before?” asked Gaby.

“Coulda done, from Dorch it’s about forty miles.”

“Forty miles,” gasped Maddy, coughing, “I can’t ride that far—I’ll need a bum transplant after that on this saddle,” she pointed at the racing saddle on the nearest bike.

“Don’t worry, Mad, I’ll kiss it better for you,” offered a smirking William, causing Gaby’s head to snap around as a memory from Drew reacted to this—before remembering Drew was in hibernation for the foreseeable future—which the way things were going, could be a very long time. Inside something felt a small pain but Gaby soon ignored it and got on with the matter in hand—getting a good ride—perhaps the only thing she seemed to have in common with the diminishing boy who’d occupied her body.

“It’s not a difficult ride,” said Harry, “Me an’ Gabs could do it in a mornin’.”

“What about this mountain, Screech Hill, or whatever you called it?” complained Maddy.

“It’s not that bad, an’ it’s the only one.”

“Isn’t the castle on a hill? I seem to remember one when we went there.”

“Yeah, but we’re not goin’ to the castle, are we? We go round it.”

“I’ll bet it’s still bloody hilly,” moaned Maddy

“You’ll do it alright,” encouraged Harry.

“C’mon, Mad, go f’r it,” William added.

“Oh all right, I must be goin’ bonkers to agree, but le’s do it.”

With that, they all got changed into their cycling kit, and Gaby at last has a chance to wheel out her super new bike. Harry and William were admiring it when Maddy came out with her water bottle. “So which one am I ridin’ then?”

“Whichever you like’, Gaby indicated the two road bikes standing in the garage.

“Can I try your old one?” said Maddy picking the Dolce.

“’Course, it does have a triple chainset, so you might find that easier on the hill.”

“I know,” smiled Maddy, “I’m not as green as I’m cabbage-looking.”

“If cabbages were as pretty as you, I’d eat them every day,” smarmed William, beginning to irritate Gaby—or rather the remnants of Drew inside Gaby.

Carol had made them up a picnic, so they all loaded some food in their backpacks and set off. “Where we gonna eat?” asked Harry, his tummy rumbling.

“Top of the hill?” suggested Gaby.

“’Kay,” he said and the two of them started to increase the pace enough to open a gap between them and the other couple. “Do I get the impression that you don’t approve of William goin’ with Maddy?”

Gaby wobbled on her bike for a moment and even missed a gear change. The boy was slightly more than the zombified teenager that adolescent males usually became—perhaps the saddle was having an effect on his lower brain—the one he kept in his racing shorts. Or was Gaby having a civilising effect upon him? The irony of that made her snort.

“Me, nah—just thinkin’ of when we go home, me an’ you an’ ’im an’ ’er—will it be over?”

“No way, Gabs, I’ll just have to come up an’ see you, woan I?”

Drew inside groaned but Gaby managed to keep riding without mishap this time.

The route is as flat as you get in Dorset and they made good time, although Gaby and Harry had to wait once or twice while the other two caught up with them. ‘If Mads cycled as well as she talked, she’d keep up,’ thought Gaby. She was however pleased with the bike and the way it performed—it fairly flew along.

There was a climb at Corfe and Maddy whinged, but she stayed on the bike and grunted and puffed her way up it. Then they got to Creech and the narrow winding lane which ascends the hill.

Gaby, used to hill climbs as a race form, climbed mercilessly and within a hundred yards or so had outrun Harry, who was struggling. However, he gamely stayed in the saddle and kept pushing on the pedals, wishing he’d got a triple chain set instead of the compact he bought.

When he got to the top, Gaby was sitting down on the grass, her jacket underneath her as she opened her bag of food and licked her lips as she saw sandwiches and sausage rolls inside.

“Should we wait for the others?” Harry asked as Gaby was about to devour a sausage roll, almost in one bite.

“Yeah, I s’pose we better ‘ad.”

“The clomping of cycling shoes on the road announced the arrival of two very red-faced teenagers. “Geez, you pigs, you said it wasn’t that bad—it’s bloody awful,” screeched Maddy, which made Gabs think that from now on, she’d always think of it as Screech Hill.

Once they’d got their breath back, they all had an enjoyable picnic, and where they sat down to eat, they managed to get out of the wind and just enjoy the sunshine. Carol had put in a small fruit juice for each of them, so they managed to top up fluid levels too—although Gaby planned on stopping in Wool or Moreton for a drink and a little rest for the others.

Peculiarly, neither of the two hill laggards complained about the descent down the other side nor of the ride back towards Wool, though soon after Maddy was grumbling that she wanted a wee. The tea rooms at Moreton were open and they stopped for a cuppa and a cake, it being warm enough to eat in the garden, they managed to keep an eye on the bikes too.

“So how’s the new bike?” William asked Gaby as they sat at the garden table waiting for the waitresses to decide who was going to serve them—if they lived long enough.

“Yeah, it’s great, goes like the clappers.”

“Has it got a triple?” William glanced at it.

“With Dura Ace, don’t be daft.”

“Well, how did you get up that bloody hill then?”

“Practice, I s’pose.”

William walked over to her bike and picked it up. “God, that is so light.”

“Good innit?” commented Harry coming back from the loos.

“Wossit worth?” asked William.

“Three or four thousand,” said Harry going back to the table.

“What?” gasped William, “You’d get a car for that.”

“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be a brand new Porsche, would it—’cos that’s what that bike is the equivalent of—‘specially if you got a Gabs under the bonnet.” He winked at Gaby who was sniggering at the table.

They got back to the cottage and Maddy fell asleep in the chair when she sat down to take her shoes off. Carol smiled when she saw her and thought, ‘It’s certainly given her some roses in her cheeks.’

Sunday, they sorted their homework and the idyllic weekend passed only to be spoiled by Meadows phoning on the Monday. Gaby was out, helping Harry sort out his fraying gear cable, so she missed it, but Maddy didn’t and as Meadows couldn’t tell their voices apart, let alone their appearances, he frightened Maddy instead.

Gaby came back and saw the police car parked outside the house. She dashed into the house and learned the news that Meadows was still harassing them, she slammed her right fist into her left palm indicating what she wanted to do to Meadows—at the same time realising that she might have a problem punching a hole in a wet paper bag. Harry and William had definite muscles in their arms and legs—William, had them all over him since he’d started working out at the gym. But even he would be no match for a full-grown man, so with the body of a teenage girl, Gaby or even Drew, would have no chance. No revenge would mean using her head and choosing her battleground.

“What did he say?” asked Gaby when her cousin had calmed down a bit.

“He said to enjoy your new bike and short life, because he was going to terminate it.” Maddy burst into tears again.

“That pig, I’ll really have to get him next time,” muttered Drew, because the anger that boiled up in the petite body was all boy. He was going to stick to Meadows good and proper next time or perish in the attempt.

Meadows had the advantage of being in hiding, Drew had the advantage of one surprise—Meadows didn’t know he was dealing with a boy, despite the curvy body, Drew was all boy. He punched his hand again and then realised—“Oh bugger,” he exclaimed.

“Wossamatter?” asked Maddy.

“I’ve chipped a nail, look,” said Rambo, holding out a slender hand.