"No reply." Mad sighed.

"We'll try again later love, they're probably at a race or some such."

"Why Mum?" the teen was pulled into a hug by Carol who was more than a little upset herself.

"These things happen love , " she consoled, stroking her distraught daughter's hair.

“.... Bicycle, bicycle, biiiicycalll race!" Drew launched into an air guitar solo as the stereo pumped out the familiar interlude to Queen's anthemic cycling homage.

Unlike some return trips in recent weeks, today everyone was happy.

"You are such a rock chick, " Roni half giggled as Drew started to shake his head about in time to the music.

"You got it, shake it!"

"Well shake it a bit less please." Dave suggested from the front.

"Er soz."

"So who was ringing?" Ron enquired, referring to the missed call in the restaurant.

"Dunno, never looked."

"Don't believe in Peter Pan, Frankenstein or Superman, all I wanna do is bicycle." Freddy Mercury continued wailing as Bond junior flipped open his handy.

"‘S only Mad, prob'ly got some new nail varnish." he dismissed his cousin's effort to contact him - last time she'd rung to tell him about a new bra she'd bought!

The new bus certainly had a bit more perk than the old one and they made good time on the drive north to the Grá¶nberg's place, Drew and Roni breaking into karaoke mode each time the stereo squawked out a familiar tune.

"Try the house phone luv, you can at least leave a message." Carol suggested as she gripped her offspring's shoulders.

"Uh huh." Maddy sniffed.

She s tabbed in the number from memory and waited for it to pickup across in Germany.

Brrp brrp, brrp brrp, brrp brrp. The phone did its customary three rings before the answer phone kicked in, even though the message was in German the message was pretty obvious 'we're not in, leave a message'.

She waited for the tone then sniffed into the phone, "Drew? Anyone? It's Maddy; ring me as soon as you can, something horrible has happened. Er bye."

She put the receiver down and turned into her mothers embrace, " W hy , M um?"

Carol didn't have any kind of answer, leastways none that would help her daughter, she was having enough trouble reconciling what had happened herself.

Beep, beep, beep.

'She seems to be stabilising.'

'BP's still fluctuating a lot.'

'Are the parents here yet?'

'I'll get someone to check.'

'I don't think she'll get through another arrest.'

Beep, beep, beep.

'Can we get some more blood in here?'

'BP's dropping!'

Dave pulled the bus onto the drive and set the handbrake. "Home!"

"Eh?" his passenger croaked.

It had been a long day and even Drew's batteries ran down sometimes.

"Come on , kiddo, up and at 'em." Dave prompted giving his offspring a nudge.

Drew stretched himself out before undoing the seatbelt.

"Bring your bag in." Dave instructed from the rear.

'Nag , nag.' Drew mumbled as he untangled himself.

"And shut the doors when you come in."

"Yes , Dad."

"And ring your cousin back."

'If it's another flippin' bra I'll strangle her with it.'

"Yes Dad."

He gathered his stuff together, shut the bus up and headed into Schloss Bond.

"I'll get it!" Drew sang out as the house phone started chirping, "probably Mads."

"Bond residence."

"Jules?"

"Mum?"

"Is your Dad there Jules?"

"Mum, it's Drew, we just got back."

"You're late."

"We had to drop Roni off and celebrate."

"Okay then, spill."

"Two podiums, first and third."

"I'm guessing by your tone you were the top step." Jenny opined.

"Might've been, so how'd you get on?"

"Second."

"Beat you!"

"Maybe, can you put your Dad on Muffin?"

"I'll just shout him, DAD! MUM!"

"You didn't need to shout," Jen complained.

"He's downstairs, so when are you home?"

"Thursday I think."

"Dad's here." Drew passed the phone to Dave and headed for his eyrie.

No sooner had he kicked off his shoes than his Handy started emitting some bit of Euro pop that Pia had programmed in last week.

"Wassup?"

"Heya, Gabs."

"Oh hi, Con."

"How'd it go today?"

"So so."

"You won again didn't you?"

"Someone had to."

"I'm sure that's not how the rest saw things."

"That's their lookout."

"Anyway, on to important things."

"Huh, you can go off people."

"Pwthtttt!"

"So?"

"Oh right, you know its Anna's birthday this week?"

""Friday right?"

"Yep."

"And?"

"Well P and Steff suggested a surprise party, what do you reckon?"

"Bit short notice."

"That's the beauty, she'll have no idea."

"True, so what's the plan?"

"Well..."

It was knocking on midnight before the round of calls came to an end and Drew finally put the phone down. It was pretty much all planned, Max was supplying the venue, Mart was in charge of music - they had to be useful for something and for once Drew just had to turn up.

"You in bed , kiddo?" Dave enquired from the landing below.

"Nearly, what did Mum want?"

"Just sorting some stuff out for the post season."

"Boring."

"Well you won't be interested in a trip to Japan then?"

"JAPAN?"

"Keep your hair on, nothing's settled yet but the team have been invited to ride in the inaugural Women's criterium series out there, your Mum thought we could make it into a family trip - if you're up for that?"

"Am I?"

"I'll tell her yes then when she rings tomorrow, you've got school in the morning."

"Worst luck."

"Don't stay up too long."

"I won't, g'night."

"Night , kiddo."

Japan, wow!

“Did you ring England last night?” Dave enquired when Drew appeared in the kitchen.

“Sugar, I forgot all about Mad.”

“You were on that phone long enough.”

“We were planning Anna's party.”

Dave rolled his eyes, “ Well make sure you do, she left a message on the house phone, she sounded upset.”

“Geez, I'll text her when I get to Thesing's.”

“You straight home tonight?”

“Might stop at Con's, I'll let you know.” The diminutive teen replied from halfway down the garage stairs.

“See you later, kiddo.”

“Bye, Dad!”

Dave walked to the window and watched as Drew pushed the lump of the Schauff off down the drive.

‘One day, one day.' He mused at the kids' enthusiasm for life.

“Someone's happy.” Pia mentioned.

“I'm going to Japa-an!” Drew sang out.

“Japan?” Brid enquired.

“Well cool.” Anna noted.

“Not many!” Drew enthused.

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 04.09.11  © 2011

“Won't be a mo guys, I promised Dad I'd text Mad.” I headed to a different table so I could concentrate without the constant babble of the gang.

‘Wassup? Misd yr cl. Wl rng l8r.'

‘There, that should do.' I pressed send and returned to the girls.

“What's that about?” Pia asked.

“She rang like three times yesterday.”

“Something important?” Anna enquired.

“I doubt it, last week she spent an hour telling me about her new bra.”

“New bra? You grown again?” Con mentioned having collected our lunches.

“Not me, Maddy.”

“Oh,” she sounded disappointed, “cheese and pepperoni.”

“Thanks.”

“Sounds like she's turning into a stalker.” Brid noted.

“She is my cousin.”

Brrp, brrp.

I checked my handy, geez it's her again.

‘W? u been? Nd 2 tlk rgnt'

I quickly rattled back a reply.

‘Hm l8 ln wl rng aftr scl.'

That should get her off my back.

“Maddy again?” Steff asked.

“Yeah.”

Brrp, brrp, brrp, brrp.

Not a text this time.

Brrp, brrp, brrp, brrp.

“I'd best answer, catch you outside.”

I grabbed my bag and headed to the street answering the call on the way.

“Morning Mad.”

“Geez Drew Bond, doesn't anyone in your house ever answer the phone, I tried to ring ten times yesterday.”

“Where's the fire? We didn't get home until late.”

“Oh Drew it's terrible, Helen's been stabbed.”

“Stabbed?”

“You know, sharp knife, stuck in.”

“Where? Why? Is she alright?”

“I'm waiting to hear, they're operating this morning, she was stable last night.

“Stable, that's good right?”

“It's pretty bad Drew.”

“Shitza!”

“It's all my fault.” She wailed down the phone.

“How come? You didn't stab her did you?”

“Course not.” She sobbed.

“Well how's it your fault then?”

“I got her to enter the ‘Race for Life'.”

“And?”

“She was out training for it when she was attacked.” Mad blubbed.

“That hardly makes you responsible, look I'm just on the way to school, I'll ring later otherwise I'll be late.”

“School at this time?”

“We are an hour ahead here and we start earlier.”

“You coming Gabs?” Anna called over.

“Look I've gotta go.”

“Well I'm not going to school today so ring the house phone okay, her mum's gonna ring as soon as she has news.”

“Laters.”

“Bye Drew.”

“What's up, Gab? You look like you lost a Euro and found a Cent.” Steff opined.

“It's Helen, she's been stabbed.”

“Your friend from England?” Pia confirmed.

“Uh huh.”

“She is okay?” Con queried.

“Mad said it's pretty serious, they're operating this morning.”

“Shitza.” Brid supplied.

The group that arrived at the Gymnasium was somewhat more sober than when they had met at Thesings.

“Did you speak to him?” Carol asked.

“Yeah, he's going to ring later.”

“You look a bit better after speaking to him.”

“I was getting concerned about him too when he didn't pick up last night.”

Carol cuddled her daughter, “Come on, you can help me with this order, no good moping about, Florrie will call as soon as they know anything.”

“Fraulein Bond, your attention please!”

Drew's musing was interrupted, “Er sorry Herr Viessner.”

“So can you tell the rest of us who the single most influential person on the English language is?”

“Erm.” How should he know? He scrambled through his grey matter and made a random stab at an answer, “Shakespeare?”

“Shakespeare our little English Rose suggests.” He paused which was cue for some giggles expecting the usual put down on the hapless Gabs. “Indeed seventeen hundred new words are attributed to him, that's ten percent of the recorded language at that time. No single person has had such influence over any other language. Stefan, can you hand these out please?”

Whilst the handouts were distributed Herr Viessner continued, “Today's homework is in two parts, firstly for you to read this modern text and to identify as many Shakespearean words as you can and then to try to rewrite the passage without using any of the bards multitudinous inventions.”

There was of course the usual round of discontent then the buzzer sounded for the end of day.

“Gabs!”

“Con.”

“You coming back to mine? Mama's making Gá¤nsekeule mit Rotkohl und Kná¶del.”

“Goose legs?”

“Yeah well its Papa's birthday and it's his favourite.”

“Why didn't you say, I haven't got a card or anything.”

“Why should you give a card?”

“Well it's a bit off coming to a birthday meal and not bringing anything.”

“You are enough.” Con supplied.

“Sugar, I don't have anything to wear!”

“Spoken like a true woman!” Max noted from behind us.

“Max!”

“It is I, so where are you going that needs a dress?”

“Who said anything about a dress?”

“It's my dad's birthday meal.” Con supplied.

“Why not get something in town?” Max suggested.

“Because I don't.”

“That's a great idea Strechau, she's a bit down today and a bit of shopping will be just the tonic.”

“But, bum I need to ring Mad!”

“If there was any news she'd text or phone,” Con soothed, “you can ring from mine.”

“Problem solved!” Max grinned, “I look forward to seeing what you get.”

“Dream on!”

“Such a lady of breeding. Oh yeah while I remember, Gran wants to know when you are coming up to Rech again.”

“Not today, Max.” Con suggested.

“'Kay, think about it eh?”

“She will, bye.” Con pushed him out of the way, “I'll give him that, he's certainly persistent.”

“Constance Thesing, I am not interested right?”

“Whatever you say, Gabriella von Strechau.”

“Why you….”

Connie took off like a jalapeá±o towards the bike sheds with me in ‘hot' pursuit.

“She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me.” Max hummed to himself on the way up to the Express stop.

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 07.09.11  © 2011

Given that Drew wasn't actually interested and his mind was elsewhere the fact that Con managed to outfit Bond junior at all was amazing, into a particularly figure hugging and girly dress with more than a little decollotage on view and some stupidly tarty shoes was pretty impressive.

"I am not riding a bike in this!"

"You wear those skinsuits."

"They have legs and don't reveal my underwear to every passing motorist." Drew observed.

"Okay, the Express is due in ten minutes, we can just make it."

"Thank you!" Drew huffed.

The shopping expedition had at least diverted his attention from Helen's plight in distant Warsop - well she was actually in Worksop General, it had certainly been playing on his mind, the fact that Maddy hadn't rung again had to be good news didn't it?

They got to the train halt at the same time as the train and joined the other homeward bound passengers heading up the valley.

"You got a pen?" Drew enquired.

"Here." Con supplied said implement.

Drew balanced the birthday card on his knees and wrote inside.

"What you put?"

"You'll see later, anyway how come I get to dress like some teen WAG and you don't?"

"It's you who 'needed' something to wear, it's only a family dinner."

"You'd better dress up or I'm gonna look like a right turnip."

"Ut uh, there is no way you could look anything but Miss Germany."

"Hi girls, bit dressy for school, Gaby?"

"Dinner party."

"I don't know how you girls walk in those heels." Myleen noted.

'Neither do I.' Drew thought to himself.

Ten minutes later the pair were stowing their bikes at the rear of Thesings.

“Well don't you look nice.” Frau Thesing offered.

“Um thanks, Con picked it.”

Connie's mother gave her daughter a look.

“Well go on up, I trust you are dressing up, Connie?”

“Yeah, oh can Gab's use the phone?”

“You don't have to ask Gaby.”

“Um it's to England.”

“Her friend is in hospital.” Con put in.

“I'll be quick.”

“Use the phone in my bedroom Gab.” Frau Thesing instructed.

“Thanks.

Gab tottered inside but Con was delayed by her mother.

“What's going on, why the dress and those ridiculous shoes?”

“I was trying to take her mind off her friend, Mama.”

“So what's up with this friend?”

“She was stabbed yesterday, I think it's pretty serious, Gab has been fretting all day since she found out.”

“I'll tell your father, he's likely to put his foot in it otherwise.”

“Thanks, Mum.”

The Peters' phone was picked up on the second ring.

“Peters' residence, that you Drew?”

“How is she, Mad?”

“They've got her in intensive care still, it's terrible Drew.” Mad sniffed before breaking into loud sobs.

“Drew?”

“Aunt Carol?”

“Maddy's been like this all day.”

“Helen?”

“I spoke to her gran about an hour ago, she's out of immediate danger but it's pretty serious still. She's got a punctured lung and some other internal damage.”

“I feel so helpless.” Drew mentioned.

“We all do Drew, we all do.”

“I wish there was something I could do.”

“Just think positive eh, she'll need all of our support to get through this.”

“Do they know who did it or why?”

“A passing motorist saw it happen so the police have a good description and Helen might not have made it without his quick action.”

Drew gulped, no wonder Mad was messed up.

“You still there Drew?”

“Uh huh.”

“Look, luv, we'll keep you up to date, if there's any change I'll make sure you know as soon as, okay?”

“Thanks, give Mad a hug from me please.”

“Consider it done. I know you're worried, we all are but remember what I said.”

“I know, stay positive, I'll try.”

They ended the call and Drew wiped the wet from his eyes once more before going out into the flat.

“Whoa! Major Panda eyes Gab.” Con observed.

“Sugar.” He'd even forgotten he was wearing eyeliner.

“How is she? Come here I'll sort your face.”

“Still very poorly, she nearly died, Con.”

Connie held onto her friend as she snuffled a bit.

“Dinner's ready girls!” Frau Thesing called from the dinette.

“Come on Gabs, let's show Papa what a pair of foxes we are.”

Drew nearly choked on a suppressed laugh.

“Sheesh, Gaby, what are you dressed as?” Juliette enquired when he got home a couple of hours later.

“A hooker?”

“Dad'll go ballistic if he sees you like that, how tall are those heels?”

“Too high.” Drew noted leaning down to get the stilts off his feet.

“How's Helen?”

“Stable in ICU, how'd you know about her?”

“Aunt Carol left a message earlier, I take it you called the Peters?”

“Uh huh.”

“So what happened?”

“They aren't really sure, I guess a mugging that went wrong.” Drew surmised.

"So like just why are you dressed like a street walker?"

"It was Herr Thesings birthday dinner."

"And he has a thing for teenage hookers? Ewww!"

"Don't be daft, I could hardly go in my school gear could i?"

"And you haven't got a wardrobe full of stuff?"

"I was at school when I found out."

Jules shook her head, "So you borrowed this stuff?"

"Ah um well, it was Connie's idea, she picked it out and anyway I've seen you wear worse."

"Not around here, you haven't I'm not kidding, Sis, you need to get changed before Dad sees you."

"Good plan." Drew agreed as he scampered off.

"That Drew?" Dave asked his eldest when she returned to the lounge.

"Yeah, he's pretty upset over Helen."

"I'd be surprised if he wasn't, they were quite close."

"I guess."

"Is he not coming in?"

"Getting changed I think."

Once up in his eyrie Drew had a chance to see how he looked, surely he didn't really look like a 'lady of the night'. the mirror reflected the image of a teen on the prowl, bit too much cleavage maybe, possibly a bit slutty but you saw pretty much the same around town any Saturday–maybe it's the shoes.

The shoes indeed, 10cm heels if you didn't include the platform in an open toed sandal style in a glittery pink. Yeah maybe it's the shoes. He slipped them back on his feet and looked in the mirror. 'Connie Thesing you are so dead!' Looking back now he could see a regular Lolita, not the manga goth type, oh no, we are talking girl on the prowl here. How the heck she'd convinced him this was a good look...

"There you are, kiddo, nice meal?"

"Okay I guess."

"You okay?"

"Why do people do stuff like that, Dad?"

"Well I'm sure some of these trendy social workers will come up with a host of excuses but the long and short, they have no respect for anyone but themselves."

"He might have killed her."

"They don't value life kiddo, but they'd be the first to bleat if the boot was on the other foot; I don't know."

"She will be alright won't she?"

"I hope so, from what Carol told me it was touch and go, she's very poorly, they've put her in a medical coma."

"I feel so helpless Dad."

"I'm not sure if it's the done thing in cases like this but you could do a tape to send to her, you know, tell her about what's going on, talk about stuff you've done together."

"I could do it on the computer and email it to Mad."

"Can you do that?"

"Duh! how do you think i-tunes á” works?"

"I bow to your superior knowledge."

"Kewl!"

"Oh I spoke to George earlier, he's green-lighted Japan."

"Brill!"

"We'll have two weeks all told with the women's race in the middle, there's talk of a junior event too if you're interested?"

"Why not, I'll be able to show off my rainbow jersey."

"Getting a bit ahead of ourselves aren't we?"

"I can't let Mum have it all her own way can I?"

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 09.09.11  © 2011

Drew slept fitfully, thoughts of Helen and of Japan kept him from sleep and it was sheer exhaustion which finally took him into the land of nod.

"You getting up , spud?" Dave called up.

"Eh?"

"It's nearly seven."

Sugar!

"Two minutes."

He was late, like very late. No time to be picky Drew just grabbed the first stuff that came to hand and headed into the bathroom. Ablutions complete he dressed on automatic and pausing only to grab his school bag and launched himself downstairs.

"There you are, sleep well?"

"Like shite." Drew admitted.

"Helen?"

"Yeah and other stuff."

"Well take care; I don't want you riding under a bus because you aren't concentrating."

"Yes Dad."

Shoes on, grab a slice of Dad's toast and Drew was off.

Dave was more than a little concerned, Drew, well Gaby never wore dresses to school and this morning he was wearing a sun dress. On Jules it would have been nice if unusual but Drew - stuff really was playing on his mind if he hadn't even noticed what he'd put on.

Screeeeeech!

Drew hopped off his mount and with practised ease flipped the side stand into place and rushed into the Backerie.

"Morning."

"Heya Gab, whoa major stud magnet!" Pia greeted her friend.

"Huh?"

"Gott Gabs, leave some for us." Steff added.

"What are you guys on about?"

"It's worse than I thought, she doesn't even know." Brid offered.

"Know what? Come on spill."

"Nice." Anna cooed joining us with a tray of coffees and pastries.

"Oh come on guys, stop mucking about."

"Now I'm scared," Nena noted, "really scared."

"Morning Gabs, whoa nice dress!" Con opined joining us with our lunches.

"Dress?" he looked down at himself, bum, what on earth had possessed him to put on a dress, especially to go to school. "Sugar!"

"Yeah the shoes don't really go; I've got some you can borrow." Con agreed.

"So what's the occasion?" Steff asked.

"Look I overslept and just grabbed the first thing to hand alright."

"Good job it wasn't your new frock." Con noted.

"I want to talk to you about that."

"I'll get you those shoes." Con did a swift one eighty and nearly sprinted out of the shop.

"What's that about?" P enquired.

"You aren't going all girly on us are you, we have trouble competing already." Brid put in.

"The dress is between me and Connie and - look I was distracted this morning okay."

"Oh how is your friend?" Anna asked the question that was hanging around them.

"Not great, they've put her in a coma."

"Shitza." Nena let out.

The shoes actually turned out to be some brown flat soled ankle boots; a look which Anna agreed was 'in', Drew couldn't see how some clumpy boots went with the dress better than his school shoes but there again, he never had claimed to be a student of women's fashion.

Now you know I've ridden in a dress before but this took things to a new level as the swirling skirts plastered themselves to my legs but the lightweight material felt like I was pretty much naked below the waist. The banter on the ride down to school was as banal as usual, no further comments on my clothing were made for which I was grateful!

Of course once we got to school that all changed as I found myself the recipient of a range of comments which on the whole would have delighted most teenage girls , although there were a couple of catty remarks made , I guess from some misplaced jealousy.

“Fraulein Bond?”

“Er yes , Miss?”

It was old Boxxy herself.

“A moment please, in my office.”

Sugar, what have I done now?

“Yes Miss,” I replied with a sigh, “see you guys in a bit.” I advised the gang.

I followed Frau Boxberg into her office and took the seat she offered.

“You look nice today, it's a pretty dress.”

“Thank you Miss.”

“Your father called, he's a bit concerned for you.”

“Miss?”

“Look Gaby, I won't beat about the bush, he told me what happened to your friend in England at the weekend and when you left the house in a dress this morning he knew something was up.”

“I can wear a dress if I want to.”

“There is no disputing that Gaby, the point is that you don't. Not usually and on the odd occasion I've seen you in anything but trousers it's been a plain skirt. Even that stunt on the trip to Bonn you wore a plain suit. So when you arrive at school looking like you've just come from a photo shoot from Vogue  © it gets noticed, the call from your father confirmed that.”

“Yes Miss.”

“You want to talk about it? You don't have to do this on your own.”

“No Miss.” Drew's resolve was faltering and a tear started its slow course across his cheek.

“Here.” The Headmistress passed a box of tissues over.

Drew took one and dabbed at his face, “I'm not very good at keeping my friends a m I?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Bernie's gone home and straight to prison and now Helen's almost died.” He let out a whimper.

Sylvie Boxberg was around the desk and holding the teen before the second wet sob.

“Hey, hey, it's alright.”

“ It's (sniff) not Miss (sniff).

“Gaby, Drew you are an intelligent young lady, neither of these things are your fault. We all knew that Bernie's time with us here was only a temporary reprieve, you showed through your actions and friendship a compassion that I know impressed some very hard line members of staff. You, your friends too, gave Bernie some stability in her life which I'm sure will stand her in good stead when she leaves custody.”

“But…”

“But nothing , Drew Bond, you have, almost since the day you started here shown yourself to be a dedicated, compassionate and thoughtful student that I'm sure many of your peers secretly admire.”

“My grades are terrible.”

“Okay, I'll admit that you aren't at the top of the class academically but neither are you at the bottom, in fact you are in the top twenty students in your year which considering German isn't your first language is pretty impressive.”

He was shocked to hear such praise.

“Over the last year or so I've seen you blossom, not just in yourself but as someone I'm proud to know.”

“All I do is ride my bikes.”

“All she says, look Gaby I try to keep tabs on all my students, offer advice when I can and I can honestly say that if ‘all' you do is ride bikes then I'm poorly advised. Let's see now,” she started ticking off her fingers, “Weinká¶nigin with all the charity work that involved, stand in dancer for the garde, organiser of the dance.”

“I only helped.”

“Organiser of the dance,” she continued, “waitress at the backerie and your father informs me the de facto under 18 cycling champion not just of this area but all of Germany, that Gaby Bond is not just riding your bike.”

Drew blushed like a traffic light.

“Bernie's fate was beyond your control and this latest incident also is something you could do nothing about.”

“Uh huh, but I feel so helpless , Miss, I don't want to lose her.”

Sylvie gripped Drew's shoulders and turned him to face her. “Look Gaby, I'm not going to say it'll be alright, that things will return to how they were before. What I will say is that with you on her side,” she paused.

“Helen.”

“Yes Helen is very lucky.”

“But I feel so useless.”

“Gaby Bond , useless? Must be some other girl ; not the one at my school.”

“Thank you , Miss.”

“I told you before, if you need to talk come and see me.”

“Yes Miss.”

“Go and tidy yourself up, you should just make Herr Ansbacher's class.”

Drew gathered himself and his belongings and headed for the door.

“Oh and Gaby?”

He turned, “ Yes Miss?”

“You really do look very nice in that dress.”

“So what did Boxxy want you for?” Steff enquired as her friend slipped into the desk next to her.

“Nothing much.”

“Hmm, ‘nothing much' doesn't normally keep you out of class for an hour.”

“It was just stuff alright.”

Steff knew it wasn't ‘just stuff' either but decided to not pursue it.

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 14.09.11  © 2011

 
 
"Mad?"

"Drewbie."

"Any news?"

"I guess if no news is good news, it's good news."

"So she's still in a coma?"

"Uh huh, I feel so useless."

"Dad suggested doing some sort of tape, you know talk to her like."

"That's a brilliant idea." Mad's mood perked up some.

"Can you burn a disk if I send you over a file?"

"Yeah of course , Drew, I'll get the others to record something here too."

"'Kay, I'll try to get it over tonight then. You heard anything from Rhod?"

"Not for a while."

"I'm sure he said he'd be back at WC before the summer hols."

"Maybe I can drop in and ask Sylv."

"Yeah, I hope he hasn't run off again."

"What happened, Drew? What happened to the 'gang'?"

"Dunno, Mad, we haven't changed have we? I mean Bern is still Bern, you an' me, we're just the same."

"No, Drew, maybe you haven't changed but the rest of us have to varying degrees, look how we treated Bernie, we were right bitches, it took you to open our eyes. Rhod doesn't know what he wants to be, I mean, who will come back to school? Ali hasn't been the same since Grottoes, I mean she was always a bit of a wall flower but lately it's an effort to get her to even go shopping!"

"People change I guess."

How did the gang end up like this? Back when we started at Warsop College we were like pretty much inseparable, so okay I sometimes did stuff with Paul and Clive, the others had other friends too. However if there was mischief to be got up to it was always the three girls, Rhod and me. We did so much together it hardly seems possible we've come to this.

I suppose I've not noticed so the changes so much what with the move to points foreign and my new circle of friends both at school and within Apollinaris. Maybe I have changed and I've just not realised.

“You still there , Drew?”

“Uh huh.”

“You went very quiet.” Mad noted.

“Just thinking.”

“About?”

“You, me, the guys.”

“Don't do too much thinking or you'll faint!”

“You cheeky moo!” I riposted.

“Damn, I've got homework to do.”

“Tell me about it.” I agreed.

“There's an essay for history and two pages of algebra.”

“I didn't actually want to know the details , Mad.” I moaned.

“So why did you, oh sugar.”

“Gott, anyone would think you were blonde.”

“I am and so are you, Drew Bond.” She pointed out.

“Any news?” Dad asked as I slumped onto the sofa.

“No change.”

“I'm sure she'll be alright.”

I wasn't sure if Dad meant Helen or Mad.

“Your mother's home tomorrow, you coming to the Schloss for dinner?” he went on.

“I guess.”

He didn't push it and nor did he complain when I flicked the telly onto a Tatort repeat on RTE.

“Any news?” Connie enquired.

“She's still in the coma.”

“Mum said they do that to make it easier to carry out procedures.” Anna supplied.

“You are still going to Ká¶ln next week?” Steff asked, “ It's okay if you don't want to.”

“Ká¶ln?”

“The RPG con?” Anna offered.

“Right, yeah I guess so.” I replied without enthusiasm.

“You decided on a costume?” Con asked.

“Not really, maybe recycle something in my closet?”

“Since when have you just reused anything , Gaby Bond?” Pia mentioned.

Well I had got something in mind before this thing with Helen.

“Well I was going to do something from Kamikaze Girls , dunno if I've got time now.”

“I'm going as Harumi.” Steff told us.

“But which outfit ? The school uniform is soo over used.” Anna put in.

“You should do the bunny girl.” Brid suggested.

“I am not walking around in a leotard all day.”

“How about the baseball kit?”

“Good idea , Gab's.”

“You'll be getting blondes a bad name if you keep on like that , Gab.” Connie grinned.

I blew a raspberry by way of reply.

“Who's coming up to mine tonight?” Pia asked.

“Count me in.” Nena beamed.

“Me too.” Brid added.

“How about you , Gabs?”

“Mum's home today so we're going to the Strechau's for dinner.”

“Ooh, posh frock alert!” Steff giggled.

“Have to impress the in-laws , Gab.” Brid opined.

“Will you give over, I told you I'm not interested.”

“Not exactly mutual from what I've seen.” Pia stated.

“And what's that supposed to mean?”

“Gott Bond, you blind or what, he's like well smitten.” Nena replied.

The peanut gallery all confirmed the diagnosis.

“Look I am so not interested in Max.”

“If you say so, your highness.” Anna grinned.

“I do, and can we stop with the princess stuff?”

“Spoil sport.” Con moaned.

Thursday night's training was an hour on the turbo doing a Co2max test, I was well knackered by the time I staggered back into the house.

“Your Aunt Carol rang, they're bringing Helen out of the coma tomorrow.”

“But I haven't done the tape yet.”

“I'm sure she'll appreciate it even more if she's awake to listen to it.” Dad noted.

“Where's Mum?”

“Shower, you need to shake a leg if you're coming — and no jeans.”

“Daa-ad!”

“You've got a wardrobe of other stuff and if I'm paying Strechau's prices you can at least make some effort.”

I suppose he has a point.

“Yes Dad.” I allowed.

He might have a point but I have a wardrobe of dresses and not ‘smart casual' male attire. I pulled some trousers out but they were all girls cut and wouldn't work for Drew — bum, bum, bum. I really must buy some guy stuff now I'm free of the Weinká¶nigin stuff. After far too long I made a decision, I just hope it meets the ‘rents dress code for the evening.

Mum wolf whistled and Dad's eyes were out on stalks.

“It's not too much?”

“You look lovely, Gabs.” Mum grinned holding me at arms length to look at my attire.

“When you two ladies are done?” Dad hinted.

“Sorry luv, you got a coat or something Gab?”

I waved my cardigan.

“Let's go then.”

I regretted wearing the heels as soon as I got out of the car, the cobbles at the schloss are not exactly stiletto compatible and I nearly twisted an ankle twice before we got into the restaurant.

“Dave!” von Strechau senior was effusive in his greeting. “And two lovely ladies tonight, Jenny,” he air kissed Mum, “and the Ahrtal's resident beauty.” I got the air-kissing bit too.

“Evening Wilhelm, sorry we're a bit late.” Dad apologised.

“No problem.” Our host led us to a table off to one side and helped seat Mum and I. “I'll send Max over for your drinks order.”

Max. What was it Nena said, ‘he's well smitten'. What does that mean, is that like Clive at that disco back in Warsop? No that was drunk, I'm sure Max is just being friendly, the girls always read more into stuff than is really there.

“Wow Gabs!”

Max's voice jolted me from my thoughts.

“Er sorry Herr Bond, Frau Bond,” he apologised to my parents, ”it's just that it's always a surprise to see Gabs all gussied up.”

“Max!” I hissed.

“So um – would you like aperitifs?”

Geez, he's such a doofus.

“A carafe of house white please Max.” Dad stated.

“Coming right up.”

“Wine?” I enquired.

“Well it is your Mum's birthday!”

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 22.09.11  © 2011

"It can't be." I spluttered, "I woulda remembered."

"Well okay kiddo, it's actually Saturday but today's the nearest we could get together."

"Phew, I've got your prezzie at home, if you'd said I could've brought it."

We were interrupted by Max reappearing with the wine. I've never really given Max working here much thought, though watching him do the whole waiter thing was a bit amusing really — yet who am I to talk? I work as a Bá¤ckerei waitress after all. I'm sure Max was goggling my booblets as he waited; he certainly had a grin on his face.

"So what are we eating?" Dad enquired.

"Soup, followed by the liver and rá¶stii, we'll talk dessert later." Mum told him - where does she put it, she's thinner than me!

"Gaby?"

"The um small salad then the liver." I like liver and its good for you - especially with my er condition.

Dad motioned for our waiter - I'll give him some stick tomorrow, and placed our order.

"To my wife, happy birthday!"

"Happy Birthday , Mum!"

We chinked glasses and took a draw.

"Hmm, not bad." Dad allowed.

"Now don't you go drinking too much, Dave Bond, it's my party and if anyone is gonna drink it'll be me." Mum stated.

"Yes dear." Dad allowed which had me and Mum giggling.

At the prices the von Strechau's charge to eat in a converted barn the food should be good and it didn't disappoint. Dad had steak, which looked absolutely delish, but I was more than happy with my liver and the way Mum put away hers she was either starving or enjoying it.

Mum regaled us with 'tales of the peloton' and I added some of my recent experiences to the table's discussion. All in all we were having a great time.

"Pudding?" Dad suggested.

"Ooh I could murder some sticky toffee." Mum sighed.

"Or bread and butter pudding with custard." I added, my taste buds warming to the theme.

"We might be pushing it for those options." Dad noted signalling for the staff.

"Dessert menu please Max."

"Of course Herr Bond."

Max had a weird look in his eye when he returned and handed out the carte and I swear he winked at Dad.

Mum finished her tale of sweaty bras and punctures and opened the menu card.

"What's going on Dave Bond?"

"Going on?"

"Wassup Mum?"

"Have a look at the menu."

I flipped my own copy open, what's this : Rhubarb crumble, chocolate pudding, there's most definitely something weird going on here.

"It's got to be a joke." Mum opined.

"I've never seen anything more than ice cream on the dessert menu over here." I agreed.

"Let's see." Dad feigned surprise.

I passed over my menu.

"Hmm, you don't spell Rhubarb that way."

"Dave! I wasn't checking the grammar."

"I know my sweet, looks fine to me."

"Dad, you knew about this." I accused.

"Might have, so what do you fancy?"

"Just you wait Dave Bond." Mum grinned.

"So?"

"Rhubarb!" we both requested before starting a giggle fest.

"Everything okay?" Herr von Strechau asked a moment later.

"Fine." Dad allowed.

"So which was it?" Max's Dad enquired.

"I win, the rhubarb."

"Damn! I felt sure the triple chocolate pudding would do it."

"I can read this pair like a book." Dad chortled, I'll take the same please?"

"Be about fifteen minutes, coffee?"

"Ladies?" Dad broke our giggling fit.

"Er sure, thanks Wilhelm." Mum allowed.

"Gaby?"

"Can I have tea please?"

"Sure."

"Ooh make mine tea too please." Mum requested.

"Two teas and a coffee then, I'll get Max to bring them right over.”

"Cheers Wilhelm."

"Next you'll have one of those dishy first year pros jump out of a cake." Mum joked.

"Bugger, I knew I'd forgotten something."

Mum went all soppy and leant over to give Dad a kiss.

"Get a room already."

"I'll remember that young lady!" Mum noted breaking her suction on Dad's face.

I just rolled my eyes, parents!

Max arrived with our drinks, which at least temporarily had my olds return to a level of sanity more suitable to public dining.

"Gabs." Max hissed from behind me.

"What?"

"Just thought I'd warn you, Mum and Gran'll be here in a few minutes."

"Er thanks." I whispered back.

That's all I need, the local head of aristocracy, she already thinks I'm marriage material for her grandson, if we're not careful I'll be walking down the aisle of Ká¶ln Dom in a white dress!

We talked about this and that whilst we waited for our pud, the subject of Japan at the forefront of said discussion. As an ex geography teacher Mum was in her element and only the arrival of what looked deceivingly like one of Jules' crumble creations halted tonight's lecture. Talking of the Dark One, where is my sister?

The portions were generous and the communal jug contained ‘proper' custard, not that thin excuse that you generally get in my adopted home but a substance doing an excellent impersonation of Birds  ® from dear ol' Blighty.

“Hmm, s'good.” I mentioned, catching a dribble of custard off my chin.

“Hmm.” Mum agreed with closed eyes and a look of ecstasy on her face.

The smooth, creamy custard worked as perfect counterpoint to the slightly acidic taste of the rhubarb and that unique semi caramelised crumb topping. The three of us tackled the pudding with gusto and short work was made of the offering.

“That was just like Jules'.” I opined.

“Talking of which, where is number one daughter?” Mum asked.

“Doing the washing up I'd imagine.” Dad supplied.

“Washing up?”

“Yes , Gaby, washing up, that bit of eating that you always somehow manage to avoid.” Dad noted.

“And just why would Jules be washing up , Dave?” Mum enquired.

“Well the reason it looked and tasted like Jules' crumble is that it was — Jules' crumble that is.”

Mum and me must have been looking at him weirdly as he hurriedly continued.

“She's been coming up to help Wilhelm with his new English menu.”

“I wondered why she was getting away with coming home so late.” I mentioned.

We were interrupted by a ‘presence' .

“So we meet again Gabrielle Bond.” The Baroness boomed.

“Mother!” Gloria von Strechau hissed.

“Um good evening Baroness.”

“I told you before gel, it's Grandma to you.”

“Sorry um Grandma.” I flushed in embarrassment.

“These your pater and mater?”

What the, oh right, parents.

“Er um yes, um Mum, Dad this is Max's Gran, Baroness von Strechau and that's his Mum, Gloria.”

“Nice to meet you your Grace, I'm Jenny and this is Dave.” Mum always was better at introductions than me.

“We meet at last Jenny Bond, your daughter here sings your praises continually.”

“Thank you for lending her to us the other week.” Gloria added.

Geez, I feel like a side of beef!

“Er, thank you Gloria, I hope she wasn't any trouble.”

“Quite the opposite, she has been the talk of society ever since.”

I have? That's just not right.

“We have tried to teach our children good values.”

“If only some of the aristos did.” Baroness Grandma sighed.

“Mother!” Gloria hissed again.

“Oh right, yes well that son of mine has promised a special treat for supper, ‘toad in the hole', some English concoction from what I can gather, sounds more like those Frenchies eating frogs and the like.”

“Gá¼ten nacht Frau, Herr Bond, Gaby.” Gloria offered.

“Yes good evening to you all.” The Baroness added.

“Good night.” Mum offered in a slightly bemused daze as the entourage departed for parts of the restaurant beyond our ken.

“She's a bit full on.” Dad noted.

“No kidding.” I agreed.

“Happy Birthday Mum!” Jules squealed grabbing said parent into a hug.

“Let go of your Mum Jules, she's turning blue.” Dad suggested.

“Oh um sorry, you enjoy your surprise?”

“The pudding or the Baroness?” Mum replied.

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 27.09.11  © 2011

The evening had been great, catching up with Mum's exploits, spending time with her — even if I did do it in a long frock and heels. All good things come to an end and this particular good thing ended on the drive home when it hit me that I hadn't given my stricken friend in England a single thought all evening. By the time I stumbled in my heels up to my den I was into major guilt trip mode — I hadn't even picked up my handy to go out — well it wouldn't fit in my bag to be honest , but still.

When I checked there was a message waiting from Mad;

‘S nd ovr yr file 2nite. Will tk 2 hosp 2moro, hugs Mad'.

It was timed mid evening which would have given me plenty of time but here I am at nearly eleven with it not even started — sugar.I kicked off my heels and booted up the computer then spent ten minutes finding my web cam, which had of course dropped into the tangle of wires under my desk, grrr!

I eventually hit the send button at nearly two o'clock of the AM; as soon as I got the confirmation screen up I shut the machine down and collapsed onto my bed.

“Drew? You awake kiddo?” The sound of Mum's voice at my door just about broke through my fuzzy thought processes.

“Hmm, wassup?” I managed, cracking an eye open.

“Time to get up.”

“Urgh.”

“Come on shake a leg.” She persisted.

“Coming.”

It was only when I crashed onto the floor that I realised that I'd fallen asleep without undressing, the skirts of my frock having tied me up Egyptian mummy style during a fitful night's sleep.

Mum reappeared, “ What the hell was…are you alright?”

“I think so.” I allowed as I unwrapped myself.

“Why did you go to bed fully dressed?”

“I was doing the message for Helen, I guess I just fell asleep when I finished.”

“Come on, shower, breakfast, I'll drop you at school, I've got to go into Apollinaris anyway.”

“'Kay.”

Mum headed back downstairs and I started to divest myself of my glad rags pausing only to drop a quick text to Connie.

Refreshed from the shower I checked the weather — even in summer the weather can be a bit changeable but the sky was blue, the birds singing and jeans aren't an option. I debated wearing a dress or skirt again but once a week is still once too many so I found a pair of shorts. I felt pretty exposed once I had them on though, I nearly went for jeans instead but last night's tights gave me an idea.

It felt a bit weird at first, nothing really around my legs but the erm, security I guess of having more than just the shorts on. Several layers on top for temperature control, trainers on my feet and I was set.

“Interesting look.” Mum noted when I finally made it downstairs.

“Thought I'd air my legs a bit.”

“In tights?”

“I can take them off it gets too warm.”

“I'll do your hair while you eat your toast.”

“Hmm.” I kind of agreed from around my cup.

“So, did you finish your tape thing?”

“Yeah, Mad's gonna take it with her when she visits Helen later.”

The brushing and tugging around my head was quite soothing and I was nearly purring by the time Mum had finished. It felt a bit weird , but what the hey.

“There we go, should be a bit cooler than all that mop hanging round your head.”

“Thanks.”

“Come on then or you will be late.”

It was only when I spotted my reflection in the car window that I discovered what Mum had been up to, whilst my fringe still framed my face the rest of my locks were plaited into a pair of French braids tied off with a couple of bits of narrow , yellow ribbon — no idea where she found that. It looked okay I guess, a bit formal but it kinda worked.

The Ahr Gymnasium whilst not having a uniform does have a dress code and Frau Boxberg is pretty strict with it. Today I think her patience will be tried. Let me just say that my shorts came to about mid thigh but the vast majority on display this morning barely covered the wearer's bums and a lot of those didn't have the 'armour' of hose.

"Nice look Princess." Anna offered as I climbed out of the Saab.

"Hi Frau Bond." Con offered.

"Morning girls," Mum replied, "three thirty Gaby."

"Yes Mum." I sighed slipping my sunnies onto my head.

"Bye Princess."

Grrrr!

"Bye Mum."

Mum pulled away and I turned on Anna, " You've got Mum doing it now!"

"Doing what?" Steff asked.

"Calling me Princess."

"Well sorree for living!" Anna huffed.

"Girls!" Con shushed us with her hands, "Boxxie!"

"Nice to see at least some of you are dressed for school today, how's your friend getting along Fraulein Bond?"

"Better, Miss, they're waking her up today."

"That's good news, Marguerite Braun! A moment please!" the head stalked off towards where the hapless victim was leaving the 'Angels' to themselves.

"Hey that's good news about Helen." Pia opined.

"Uh huh, Mad's going to see her later."

"Who did your hair?" Brid enquired circling me, "suits you."

"Wasn't my choice, Mum did it."

"Very sophisticated." Nena agreed.

Having dealt with the Braun girl, the addition of a borrowed hockey skirt would at least keep the vice squad at bay; Sylvie Boxberg returned her attention to where her school's prettiest pupil was joking about with her friends.

Except of course a) she didn't know of her status and b) she of course was a he — possibly. Yes it might be Anna who ruled the roost in the group but whether she knows it or not it's the tiny blonde who acts as the catalyst.

Even at their first meeting the child exuded something that had you wanting to be in her presence and presented at best as the girliest tomboy you'd ever see. Just over a year on and she'd bloomed into a beauty whom half the faculty let alone the students were in lust with! To make matters worse she, you could never refer to such a creature as he, has recently started dressing in more feminine attire.

The tones of first bell broke into her thoughts, the stampede of the region's youth sweeping the object of her musing from sight.

“Hey Gabs.”

“Oh hi, Mart.”

“Mind if I sit?”

Drew looked around; a free period in the library was not his usual habit but an essay for Herr Ansbacher in history which was due in after lunch had altered things somewhat.

“Guess so.”

Martin settled himself opposite before speaking again.

“Gabs?”

“Now what?”

“Erm have you like heard from Bernie lately?”

Bernie, sugar, he had hardly given his pregnant friend a thought since the weekend what with the stuff with Helen. Had there been a letter this week? He couldn't remember.

“Not this week.”

“Oh.” He paused a moment before continuing, “You do write to her, right?”

“Uh huh.”

“Could you um include a note from me next time?”

“I could but why not send it yourself?”

It's hard enough writing to her in gaol as it is let alone if you end up playing gooseberry.

“I um don't have the address and anyway I'm not sure it's allowed.”

“Course it's allowed you dipstick! Give me your pad.” Drew dug through his handbag and extracted his address book, “ Here we go.”

Herr Ansbacher's essay wasn't any closer to being finished; instead the rest of the period was spent drafting a letter to Bern.

The tights and three layers on top disappeared by lunch time as the temperature continued to rise.

“Have I got mayo on my nose or something?”

“Clear as a baby's bottom!” Steff supplied.

“So like why does everyone keep looking at me?”

“Gaby Bond, people are always looking at you.” Nena stated.

“And that's when you haven't got your melons on display!” Anna giggled.

“Anna!” Con censured.

I reckon I could have beaten the 0-100 of a Ferrari with the speed I turned red.

“Now look what you've done,” Pia sighed, “Gab , she was only joking.”

“She said mmmelons.”

“Jealousy, Gabs, I'd rather have yours than her fried eggs.” Brid opined.

I managed to pry my hands from where they had flown at Anna's comment.

“Melons?” that's all I need, another flippin' nick name, Princess Gaby Melons.

“So okay I do pad,” Anna allowed, “and yes I am jealous.”

“Anyway, I think mine are bigger.” Con suggested.

“Nah Steff's are gigantic!” Brid put in.

“No fair, Miss Grapefruit.” Steff riposted.

“I've got a tape.” Anna offered.

And so the Great Boob Cup competition was inaugurated, there was no opt out and no prize but for the sake of your curiosity I'll give you the result.

chest in/cm Cup size

Anna 36/80 A

Brid 34/75 A

Connie 36/80 C

Gabs 32/70 B

Nena 34/75 C

Pia 36/80 B

Steff 38/85 B

So there you have it, by my reckoning Steff and Con are not much different and I'm well down the scale.

“It's because you're so slim, Gabs,” Brid noted, “makes you look bigger.”

I so did not want this conversation!

to be continued....

Maddy Bell 28.09.11  © 2011

Chapter *9.08*

"Good day?" Mum enquired.

"So so, I got an extension on my history essay, Mart reminded me to write to Bernie and I came last in the boob cup but got extra points for presentation."

"Boob cup?"

"Its a long story." I sighed.

"Sounds familiar, so what size?"

"Uhm?"

"Don't you uhm me, what size are you now?"

"Seventy B?"

"What's that in English?"

"Thirty two I think."

"You've lost a bit of weight." Mum stated.

"Only a couple of kilos."

"Well I guess you're eating plenty. So you coming out with the girls tonight?"

"Out? As in party?"

"No out as in training, we postponed today's session as it was so warm."

"Tell me about it." I sighed.

"I wish your father would change the car for a left hooker." Mum mumbled as she struggled to get out onto the bypass.

" It's a good car, I like it."

"But it's not really suited to over here is it, it's not like we go home with it."

"Guess not." I allowed.

"So, tonight?"

"Sure, it's not one of those mad sessions is it?"

"Not sure I know what you mean,” she said with a less than straight face.

What have I let myself in for now?

It was still not four when we got home, Dad was sat on the deck with a pile of paperwork and a glass of something that looked interesting.

"Hi , guys."

"Gabs is coming tonight, her bike ready?" Mum enquired as we walked round to where Bond senior was sat.

"I'll check the tyres, what time are you out?"

"Meeting at the Bahnhof at six."

"I suppose you want feeding then?"

"Might be an idea luvver!" Mum agreed in a corny West Country accent.

I left them to it; even with eating I've still got an hour to fill.

Dear Bern

A lot has happened this week not all good. Let's get the bad stuff out of the way first, Helen's in hospital at the moment, some madman stabbed her while she was out running on Sunday. Its pretty serious, she's been in a coma all week but by the time you get this she should be getting better. Mad has been in pieces all week, I've not been much better and the attacker is still out there.

Besides that there hasn't been much happening, I won the big race on Sunday which was well good, I won the sprint but mostly 'cos the other kid ran out of steam. Ron sends her best btw.

The other breaking news is that I'm going to Japan in September! How cool is that? Mum and the team are doing some races and Dad and me are going as support but we get to look around some too.

How is junior? Not long now I guess, you got any news on the parole thing? I'll be coming over the week after school breaks up, that's like the beginning of July - we have two whole months off. I think Dad and Jules are coming too for the first week before I join the BC squad so hopefully I'll get to visit.

Martin sends his love! Of course the girls do too but I think it's only Mart who wants to get in your knickers!

"Drew, tea's ready!" Mum called up to my nest.

"Minute!"

Where was I, oh right,

Any way, that's about it for now, I'll write again next week hopefully with better news.

Bye for now

Drew

I hit print and headed downstairs.

"Thought you'd be changed." Dad observed.

"Writing to Bern, telling her about Helen."

The light meal consisted of schnitzel, salad and half a baked tater.

"You okay with that?" Dad asked.

"Fine."

"You guys riding down?"

"Might be a good idea, get this un warmed up, a lift back afterwards would be nice." Mum suggested.

"Give us a bell later then."

I made short work of the food and rushed upstairs to get ready.

"You looking forward to the summer?" Mum enquired as we took a leisurely ride down to Bad Neunahr.

"Sort of."

"Only sort of? I wish this sort of thing had been in place when I was your age. I woulda thought you'd be bouncing off the walls in expectation."

"I am looking forward to it but it's a long time to be away from home, everyone else will at least have family in the same country!"

"I must admit I never looked at it that way kiddo." Mum admitted.

"Its not just that, the others on the squad will have at least raced against each other if not as a team just in the natural run of things, I feel a bit of a fraud just dropping in for the summer."

"Drew Bond , I'm ashamed of you for even thinking such a thing! You have every bit as much right to be on the squad, every bit. Your palmares even just for this season is impressive, you've podiumed pretty much every outing, you are leading the junior series against lads up to two years older than you. It's not a clean sheet, no one could ever realistically hope for that but it's damned impressive."

"I guess."

"You know BC's long term aim, to bring home the bacon across all disciplines, a Tour win even, they are not in the habit of wasting money on also rans. You didn't hear this from me but you are right up there in the frame for that backing. Never, ever doubt your abilities, I make a passable living doing what I enjoy, you my girl , are slated for higher things."

I was a bit taken aback by Mum's outburst and just rode alongside in mute amazement. Me? Picked out as a tour hope for when? Five, six, seven years time?

"Drew, you came!" Tina called out as we rolled onto the station forecourt where the rest of the squad - Maria, Anja and Erika were already assembled.

I waved in response as we negotiated the cobbles up to them. “Heya.”

“George not here yet?” Mum enquired.

“Petra rang, the car has a flat, they'll be about ten minutes.” Maria informed us.

“And here I am raring to go.” Mum grinned.

I gravitated towards the team's younger riders; Mum and Maria can be so boring!

“So , Drew, you whooped anyone we know yet?” Tina enquired with a grin.

“Cheeky mare!”

“George told us about the Dreilander on Sunday.” Erika offered.

“I don't want too many races like that.” I admitted.

“Ja, I've ridden that event two years since,” Erika told us, “it rained then too, I spent the day in a very wet peloton .”

“Your Mama says you are going to England for the summer?” Anja mentioned.

“Yeah, I'll miss everyone here.”

“Jen says you'll be at the Worlds.” Tina suggested.

“If I get picked, there's like twenty riders on the youth road squad and I think we get four rides.”

“Pah! How could they leave you from the team?” Erika asked.

“Well it would be nice.” I admitted.

Of course Mum will be a shoe in for the Women's road race and possibly the TT, the ladies being more successful than the GB juniors they get more starters.

The rumble of tyres over the cobbles announced the boss's arrival.

“Sorry we're late ladies, we all raring to go?” George enquired.

“As if.” Maria noted.

“Same as the schedule for earlier then, bit of practice for Antwerp so we'll keep it flat okay?”

Everyone nodded and I wondered what I'd let myself in for.

“ Let's do it.” Boss man instructed, by the time he was back in the car the girls and I were clipped in and feeding out onto the tarmac.

We paired off, I drew Tina, as soon as we got onto the main road and were soon at a good cruising speed heading down to Sinzig out past the bottling plant and under the autobahn. A rotation was started and I found myself part of a close knit group exchanging views on everything you get bikies talking about as well as stuff more usually found in the changing rooms of H&M  ® !

Through Sinzig and onto the Rhein road southwards towards Brohl, we kept an even pace, thirty to thirty five, with George occasionally coming alongside to make some comment or give some instruction.

“Fartlek!” he shouted after we passed the old Brohltal railway.

“You what?” I asked my partner.

“Sit behind and watch, you'll get the idea.” Tina instructed me.

We singled out, me second behind Tina. The pace hadn't changed then suddenly Anja came sprinting past and kept going, she was barely off the front when Erika followed suit. Ah, I think I get it. Mum went next, Maria, myself then Tina, each sprinting to the front before easing off. When we were back together we started a repeat, a process that we completed twice more before we reached the waterfront of Andernach.

If it was designed to simulate a chase it worked pretty well and I mused that this is exactly the type of training I generally miss out on. Everyone spent the short traverse of the town getting their wind back before reassembling into our pairings. Once we had cleared the traffic lights we returned to a steady rotation at a pace that was a tad high for conversation but slow enough to not be puffing.

We were soon negotiating Koblenz then it was over the river to start the northwards leg back towards the Ahrtal. Once out of Niederberg George pushed our pace until we were rotating at full race speed towards Neuweid into a slight headwind, the ever-present upstream breeze. I was comfortably holding my own until Mum took a flier — where the heck did that speed come from? This wasn't more of the ‘Fartlek' stuff; this was full on simulated racing.

Well she's not getting away with that!

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 30.09.2011

The girls probably did this regularly but I'm a bit like a spanner here, a spanner without a specific job. Mum had a good fifty metres on us and was showing no signs of slowing anytime soon. The others looked to be setting up a chase; I slipped to the back out of the way.

I spotted George watching me; I didn't want to pee off the big boss so I signalled my intention. With a grin he nodded and got Mike to drop back a bit, I had my permission. The others were just getting a rotation going although it was clear that Erika was going to give chase shortly. Meanwhile Mum was steaming along up ahead like her bum was on fire.

A quick sip from my bottle and it was time. Erika slid back and was busy selecting her gear, I checked behind, the road was clear enough. Boonen made a similar check giving me a grin as she did so, as soon as she turned her head back I went. Out of the saddle, I accelerated at maximum thrust past the others who whilst they were expecting Erika, weren't expecting as fast a move.

Behind me I could hear various curses as they tried to respond to this unplanned for move. I went into full time trial mode and concentrated on Mum up ahead. Of course Mum is hardly a novice against the clock, a Worlds podium at the discipline would put doubt into some heads but that was a couple of years ago and out of necessity I do lots of solo riding.

The gap started to close, slowly at first then more quickly as I got a second wind after my starting effort. I held true to Mums ‘no looking back' mantra and piled all my effort into catching her. My chase was already over two kilometres long as we passed under the motorway crossing the Rhein and Mum was still a good few metres clear.

I had a thought, did I just want to catch her or ‘prove' my ability? Hmm, the latter I think, in which case…

When you are riding, particularly into a head wind, your ability to hear stuff behind you is quite limited, another bike could be passing you before the sound alerts you to its presence. Certainly anyone more than five metres behind could easily be missed which formed the backbone of my plan B. I closed the gap more slowly now until I was sat some ten metres behind Mum, close enough to draw pace but too far behind to get assistance or alert the victim.

I gathered myself up again, remarshalling my resources by way of a few flakes of dried ‘nana and a swig from my bidon. Its very easy in this situation to ease up and start losing ground, concentration is essential if you are to hold station. Of course the threat from behind is real too, the girls'll be pretty miffed by my move so they'll be making a big effort, one slip and they'll chew me up and spit me out!

As is so often the case, timing is everything. We'll be re-crossing the Rhein at the Linz ferry so from Neuweid to there gave me about ten kilometres to the 'finish'. The question for me is of course whether that's too far, after all the girls are pros and there are five of them. Should I just take Mum and leave it at that or really go for it? My handy chose that moment to start vibrating in my pocket; well I can check it on the ferry.

The sound of Anja and co coming up from behind galvanised my thoughts and Maria's 'gotcha kiddo!' was enough to fire me up - if they thought I was spent they'd likely be easing up right about now. I took a couple of deep breaths and at the point I heard one of the chasers freewheel it was out of the saddle and away! I accelerated hard, not sprint finish hard but enough to very quickly propel me up to Mum and past her.

"What's the kid up to now?" Mike asked no one in particular as they watched Drew's latest move from behind the chasers.

"Interesting tactics." Petra mentioned from behind.

"Just like her mother," George grinned, "unpredictable but measured."

"Watch or intervene?" Mike asked his boss.

"Lets watch for now."

From experience I know how difficult it is to change your pace once you are into testing mode, its like the accelerator is stuck and although you know you can kick down to get more revs you think it'll slow you. I was banking on Mum not thinking logically when I launched myself past her, the muttered curse as I showed her my wheel was confirmation I'd succeeded in surprising her.

A quick glance under my arm as I settled back into the saddle confirmed I had a good gap; Mum was still locked in TT mode with the others still a good distance behind her. Despite not having fancy testing bars on the bike I can still get into an efficient crouch and rather than slowing my computer showed my speed increasing until it levelled out at about forty five Kph.

As they say 'there is no plan B' so if I blow or get caught that'll be it, so don't get caught Drew Bond! I know the road well enough to avoid some of the worst pot holes and with the road twisting about a bit more at times I'd be out of sight of anyone more than twenty five metres behind. I tried to get a bit more speed on each of these occasions; a bit more cushion always helps.

Meanwhile the others were now all together, Jenny having eased up to allow the others to make contact, George drew alongside.

"You want us to chase Drew down?" Maria asked.

"If you think you can." George grinned.

"What do you think we are, amateurs?"

"You let her get away..."

Maria gave the Director a dirty look, "we'll see."

I started humming ‘The Chain' to myself, I find it helps me keep my tempo even and the simple lyrics are great for in the head karaoke!

‘Yeah-eh-eh keep it together!'

Kewl, Bad Há¶nningen already. Bikes aren't allowed on the bypass, we have to use the old road through the town — a good opportunity to further my lead. I really was in the zone now, my pedalling action smooth and breathing easy, my mind tuned to getting to the ‘finish' first. At the start of the bypass I slipped easily onto the road that dipped under the new road and firstly into Rheinbrohl before taking us through the bigger town.

There was a little traffic — easy for a single rider to negotiate but more difficult for my pursuers and the team car! I grabbed another swig from my bottle as the rode swung under the northern end of the bypass, Schloss Arenfels to my right looking splendid in the evening sun. Not far now.

“Where's he gone?” Tina asked as they finally got past the tractor.

“Can't see her.” Erika observed.

“Sugar!” Maria moaned.

Jenny smiled to herself; Drew had outwitted them, one of the top female pro squads in the world!

Maria set to organising her troops, by the time Arenfels hove into view they were once again a cohesive team doing hard turns to make up the deficit on the youngster. Behind them, George chuckled to himself, yes his girls were good but they were getting a bit complacent, young Drew was like a breath of fresh air. Tonight would hopefully break that torpor, make them more attentive, less predictable maybe, yes a wake up call indeed.

In truth Drew's lead was still not huge, maybe two fifty metres but it was enough for traffic to shield him from the view of the chasers. The road now followed the river more closely again sandwiched between the waters and the railway line. Not far now, maybe three kilometres.

‘The Chain' was now replaced by Queen's ‘Bicycle Race' in the youngster's head as he dug deeper into his reserves, carefully maintaining a steady line on the recently resurfaced tarmac. ‘Come on Drew, you can do it!' he urged himself as his legs started to feel the effects of the lactic acid building up.

The girls behind were now in full chase mode and the gap to the youngster was now steadily closing — you've seen this happen on the Tour, the breakaways holding out until the last kilometre even before being swept up. It always seems a bit unfair but when you make the move you know this is a possible outcome. As the road started into the long, long vaguely left hand bend that would take the road into Linz Drew chanced a quick glance behind.

‘Sugar!'

They were close, too close; with around a thousand metres to go before the sign Team Apollinaris were no more than fifty metres adrift and well motoring. If they caught him now he'd be spat straight out the back, so don't be caught! He snicked the right hand Ergo the last click, the imperceptible change in gearing raising his pace by a scant 2%. Two percent of fifty kph only pushes it up by a single kilometre, enough to delay the inevitable.

‘Go on Bond, nearly there, I can see the sign dammit!' George told himself, to the girls on bikes he shouted, “big effort for the line!”

So used to their racing formula this was the point that the seniors blew it. Jen had been resting at the back of the chasing rotation as usual at this point, the others strung out ahead. One by one they took a long hard turn and peeled off and still Drew was holding them off!

The sign, where's the flippin' sign? He could sense the closeness of the others, it was going to be close indeed, just hold on a bit more. The town sign emerged from the overgrown margin and he was out of the saddle for the final assault, all fifty metres of it. There wasn't much more left in his legs but as they say, better out than in!

Jen was almost onto Drew's wheel when he suddenly rose from the saddle and kicked. ‘How in heavens name is he doing that?' senior Bond had by now nothing left to give and had to watch as her offspring took back almost ten metres before punching the air and freewheeling.

“Yes!” I allowed punching the air, “super Drew does it again!”

“Nice one kiddo.” Mum allowed rolling up beside me and resting a hand on my back.

I managed a bit of a grin as I gulped air into my lungs, “thanks.”

The others soon joined us adding their own comments, Maria sounded a bit miffed although the others were quite effusive. We rolled along to the ferry slip; it was just loading so we carefully made our way on board followed by the team car. I slumped over the bars, exhausted by my efforts.

‘Brrp, brrp. Brrp, brrp.”

“That you kiddo?” Mum asked lowering her bidon back into its cage.

“Er, oh yeah.” I agreed standing and fishing in my jersey's pockets for my handy.

“Lo.”

“Where the F are you? You were supposed to be here half an hour ago!” to say Steff was p'ed off would be putting it mildly.

“I'm on the ferry, where's here?”

“Blondes! Anna's party?”

“Shit!”

“Which ferry, and why are you on it?”

“Linz, I've been training with the senior team.”

“You knew the party was tonight, I did remind you this morning.” Steff whined.

“Sorry, look I'll get there soon as.”

“Eh, hang on Gab's….kay, I'll tell her, Gab?”

“Still here.”

The ferry engines went into reverse announcing our arrival on the west bank.

“How long before you can get here?”

How long indeed, ride back up to Ahrweiler; drive home, change, “an hour maybe.”

“Too long, can't you get the train straight up?”

“I need to shower and change, plus Anna's present is at home.”

“You can borrow something from P.”

“I guess, have to go, I'll be there soon as I can.”

I ended the call as the others pushed off to ride onshore.

“That sounded intense.” Mum noted.

“Steff, I forgot Anna's party.”

“When is it?”

“Er now, I shoulda been there about Neuweid.”

“You still going?”

“She is my friend.” I stated.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 04.10.2011

Anna's Party

“I'll ring Dad; he's picking us up anyway.”

We set off through Kripp at a very much reduced pace, a mere thirty kph, Mum had her phone out as soon as we reached a straight stretch of road.

“Dave? …hi luv…great, great, fifteen minutes…we need to do a mercy run…party,” Mum looked over to me, “where?”

“Er Max's.” I should have met the others at Pia's; they'd be walking over to the venue now.

“The Strechau place,” Mum returned her attention to Dad, “yeah, I guess…hang on I'll put her on.” She held out her phone for me to take.

“Hi Dad.”

“You are a one Drew, anything you want me to bring down?”

“A change of clothes would be nice.”

“Anything in particular?”

“Not really, as long as it's clean.”

“Okay.” Dave shook his head.

“Oh, there's a bag on my desk, Anna's present.”

“Alright, see you in a few.”

“Thanks Dad.”

The call over I passed Mum back her phone, we were almost at the railway bridge now, so the timing was good.

Dave gave a sigh as he put the phone down, that kid'll forget his head one of these days. He didn't very often go up to the attic room, there wasn't any need, but as a dutiful father he made the climb. The room was typical teen — teen girl that is! Underwear and hose on the floor, other articles of clothing hung on doors, assorted makeup on the desk but mixed in with that was an assortment of cycling garb, kit bags, school books, a display cabinet with model cars in it, the walls adorned with cycling posters and a collection of definitely girly cards.

“Jules!”

“Wassup?” number one daughter enquired from below.

“Do us a favour, can you find something in this mess for your sister to wear to her party, I've no idea and I've got to go in five minutes.”

“Sure.” She agreed, ‘I'll get you Sis!'

Dave descended with the gift bag and went to get ready for the Taxi run.

“Sorted?”

“I guess.”

“Hey you two, mine for supper?” Maria enquired from ahead.

“This one has a party to get to,” Mum mentioned, “but I'm sure Dave would be up for that.”

“I'll tell Hen to expect us then.” The team captain already had her own handy at the ready.

The whole dynamic of the group had now changed, the conversation wasn't confined to bikes and racing, in fact that was hardly brought up, no the girls instead spent the ride back towards Bad Neuenahr talking about bra's and makeup! They took the quiet lane back rather than the main road they'd used on the outbound, the others turning off to go directly to the Pinger's place at Lohrsdorf.

“Come on, race you to the station.” Mum suggested.

“I wouldn't want to beat you again.”

“Hey, there's life in your old Mum yet, you gave us quite a workout back there.”

“I guess.”

“If you ride like that for BC over the summer I'm sure you'll be on the full squad in no time.”

“Possibly.” I allowed.

In truth I hadn't even thought about stuff like that, yeah I want to ride the Tour, be World Champeen but I hadn't really thought about the mechanics of accomplishing those goals other than winning races. In the end we only sprinted for the town sign, Mum easily took me, my legs were still rubbery.

Dave pulled onto the forecourt just as his wife and offspring dismounted their steeds.

“Come on dizzy; let's get you to the ball.”

“Sorry Dad, with Mum here and training and stuff…”

With practised ease the bikes were quickly racked and everyone on board the 95.

“Supper at the Pinger's after we drop this one.” Jen mentioned.

“Save me a call, I need to speak to Henryck.”

“You bring the prezzie?” I asked.

“On the seat, your sister got your clothes, in the bag there.”

“Shoes?”

“I'm sure it's all in there.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

We'd gone straight out onto the bypass and were already at Silverberg, we'd be at Max's in under ten minutes from here.

“So, good session?”

“This one made it more interesting.” Mum replied.

“Oh?”

“George wanted us to work on our chasing so I took off as bait, the others were supposed to organise a chase.”

“Okay.” Dad nodded.

“'cept no one had told this one.” She motioned towards me.

“How was I supposed to know?” I pouted.

“Well according to Maria they were about to launch the chase when the dynamo attacked on her own. They'd just about caught her and me, when she took off again, came past me like a flippin' bullet.”

“Well.” I supplied.

Dad chuckled.

“We spent the rest of the session chasing her, nearly ten K.”

“I take it you did.” Dad suggested.

“I was first to the Linz sign.”

“The little sod went again just as I got on his wheel.” Mum admitted.

“That's my boy!” Dad crowed.

We turned into the lane across to the Schloss; Max was waiting by the gate, Dad pulled up in a cloud of dust.

“Thanks Dad.”

“You got a lift back home?” Mum enquired.

“Arranged, say hi to Kat for me.”

“Will do.”

I clambered out and grabbed the bags.

Dad spun the Saab round and took off back down the rutted lane.

“Hi Max.”

“Heya Gab, you wearing that?”

Here I am in bibs, Apollinaris shirt and flip flops and he asks that, duh!

“Stuff in here.” I waggled the tote with my change of clothes in, “is there somewhere I can change?”

“In the house, come on.”

Of course I've been to the Schloss before so I at least knew which door we were heading for. There was the sound of music from across the courtyard; I hurried not wishing to be any tardier than I already was.

“You can use my room.”

“'kay.” I agreed as we made our way upstairs.

“That you Max?”

“Yes Gran.” He rolled his eyes.

“What happened to your party?”

“It's going, just had to pop back for something.” He called back down the hall, “quick, before she spots you!”

I slipped into the room and flipped on the light. I knew from before that he had an en-suite so I headed there first; don't want to turn up all smelly do I? No time for a shower of course but a quick scrub removed the worst of the rime although my hair was a bit ratty, hmm.

Back in the main room it was time to see what my sister had selected for me, I tipped the bag out, ‘you bitch Juliette!' at least my makeup bag was in there but she'd stuffed me completely — it's not like I've got a lot of options here.

The door opened a crack, “ You okay in there?” Max hissed.

“Five minutes.”

“Right.”

I returned my attention to the pile on Max's bed.

"Max?" I enquired, poking my head out of the door.

"Here...whoa!"

He'd caught the full force of my sisters 'joke'.

"Max? You got someone with you?" the Baroness asked from down the hall.

I frantically waved and mouthed 'no' at him however he shrugged, there was no way to avoid it now.

"Just Gabs, she needed to change."

"Let's see her then."

Cripes, all I need!

"We have to get back Gran." Max suggested.

"You can spare two minutes."

I'm doomed.

"Yes Gran , " he sighed, "sorry Gabs."

I tottered along behind him, gift bag in one hand, the tote in the other.

"Um hi er Gran."

"Ach Gabriella," I could see her take a breath, "an interesting outfit?"

"My um sister's idea of a joke."

"A strange sense of humour, your sister, " she stated.

"Gran, party?" Max complained.

"Hush Max."

"We um really should go Gran; I'm late as it is."

"Don't be a stranger Gabrielle."

"Er of course not." I could hardly say otherwise could I?

"Go, have fun and stop twitching Max, it's unbecoming."

"Yes Gran."

"Er goodnight." I added as we made our escape.

"Take these," I instructed my host, "I need both hands to get down here without breaking my neck."

"Sure."

It would have been easier to take the damn shoes off but, well you know how it is. Once downstairs I had to tackle the cobbles of the courtyard, I found myself gripping Max's arm so I didn't go bum over breasts.

"Look who I found!" Max announced, pushing the door open.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 05.10.2011

Foxy Lady

Everyone turned to the door, talk about feeling a right prune.

"Er happy birthday, Anna!" I waggled the gift bag.

"I said she'd be here." Steff noted.

I tottered into the barn; Anna came and gave me a hug.

"You never mentioned she was coming as a Christmas decoration." Con giggled.

"I can explain."

"Well I think she looks smashing." Max put in.

"Max!" we all burst into giggles.

"I was just saying."

"Well just get her a drink." Con suggested.

"And some airsickness tablets, she needs them in those shoes!" Brid added.

So okay, I'll put you out of your misery, you will already have guessed that Jules choice of footwear was um, vertiginous but we are getting ahead of ourselves. Lets just say that my outfit was from the fairy end of Goth, the dress, if you can call it that was held up by thin shoulder straps and whilst it covered everything, the built in corset erm, emphasised ones assets! The skirt, which barely reaches my thighs, is held out by stiff net underskirts, and the whole kit and caboodle is in black. Fishnet thigh highs and these stupid shoes round it out - oh yeah the shoes, 10cm heels plus a 2cm platform - well you can imagine! I'll get you for this Jules!

Of course everyone else, whilst dressed up a bit, was at least in more sensible ensembles, teen chic not Goth chick!

Once I got over the embarrassment of my outfit - and lost the heels for my flip-flops, I actually had a good time. The organising committee had apparently told the victim that they were going to gatecrash a party that Max was holding - I had wondered how they were going to get Anna along - and dressed to party!

Mart was manning the sound system - Max's CD player, and our little group got a bit raucous at times. The senior Strechau's brought some supplies over about ten, to supplement the snacks the girls had brought along. I was actually starving by now; damned corset thing stopped my wholesale consumption though!

"Gabs!" Mart hissed.

I already knew the question.

"Nope, unless there's one arrived today, I've barely been indoors."

"Oh." he sounded deflated, he really has got it bad.

"Look I'll let you know as soon as, okay?"

"Cheers, Gab."

"Hey does Max know you're chatting up his girlfriend?" Nena put in.

"I wasn't!" Marty started.

"I am not his girlfriend!" I added.

"Gotcha!" Nena sang.

"Why you!"

And so started a chase between a Goth in flippers and a somewhat more agile tormentor.

'Beeeep!'

A car horn gave a single toot outside, it was well after eleven and time to go home.

"Thanks you guys." Anna stated starting a round of hugs with everyone.

"We had to do something for the oldies!" Pia chuckled.

"Why you!"

"Hut hmm." Pia's Dad was at the door, "taxi?"

Mart and Max were finishing the cleanup - not I hasten to add, that we'd made much mess, the rest of us gathered our stuff and piled into the bus. The most economical drop off route meant that apart from Pia I was the last to be delivered.

"You got everything, Gabs?"

"Think so."

"Shoes?"

"Check."

"Head?"

"Um, it's here somewhere, yep got that."

Pia giggled, you'd've thought we'd been on the plonk - after last weekend there is no way I'd touch it tonight, Dad'd go ballistic!

"Night, Gabs."

"Nite P, nite Herr Sebenschuh."

"Goodnight, Gaby."

I slid the door shut and made my way up to the house, the Sebenschuh's waited until I had the door open before pulling away.

"That you, kiddo?" Mum enquired.

"Yeah."

She came through into the kitchen, " What are you wearing? Just what kind of party was it?"

It's not like I'd forgotten about my attire, rather I'd gotten used to it - apart from the shoes, which were in my bag anyhow.

“I erm, it's Jules' fault.”

“You are dressed like some fetish doll and it's your sister's fault, I'm guessing there are shoes to go with this ‘outfit'?”

When Mum's in this mood you don't argue, I pulled the skyscrapers out.

“Really, Mum, I didn't have a choice.”

“You, young lady, always have a choice.”

“But..”

“Juliette Bond, here, now!” Mum bellowed.

Ot oh.

“Wassup?” Jules enquired a moment later as she joined us, “oh man!”

“Oh man indeed, your sister says that you are responsible for this.”

“It is my dress, I wondered where it had gone.”

“Jules!” I whined.

“So you didn't make her wear this ensemble?”

“I've not seen her all day, how could I?”

“You,” Mum pointed at me, “bedroom, now! And you, sit.” My sister was instructed.

All the good vibes from the party were gone, “ Bitch!” I spat at my sibling as I headed out.

“I heard that, Gaby Bond.” Mum warned.

I sullenly ascended the stairs not even pausing to bid Dad goodnight. This is like so unfair.

Once upstairs I took off the hateful dress and cleaned up ready for bed, donning my nightclothes before the sounds of Mum coming up the stairs reached me.

“It was Jules, really Mum.” I sobbed as soon as she appeared in the doorway.

“I know, kiddo, I managed to wring it out of her, come here.” She sat on the bed and pulled me into a hug, “I think I over reacted a bit, it was a shock to see my fifteen year old daughter dressed like that.”

“Uh huh.” I blubbed in agreement.

“So did you have a good time?”

“Letter on the side for you, Drew.” Dad mentioned when I reached the kitchen.

“Er thanks.”

“Your phone was going mad last night.”

“I never heard it.”

“That's because you left it in the car.”

“Probably Mad, I'll give her a bell in a mo. Mum gone?” I asked, pouring myself a cup of tea.

“‘Bout an hour a go.” Dad supplied, “ She told me about last night.”

“Yeah.”

There are some bits of last night I'd rather forget, Jules you are like so dead! I found the letter; the unmistakable HMP envelope confirmed my expectation that it was from Bern.

Dear Drew

As you might guess there hasn't been much going on here. I feel like an elephant though, junior must be about five stone! I've got a date for my parole hearing, just before you come over so hopefully I'll be out for junior's arrival.

The trip to Stuttgart sounded like fun; I hope your ankle is okay now. You guys just have so much fun; the suit and heels thing sounds a right hoot! Julie reckons you lot are nutters; I'm inclined to agree.

I've started some classes, it's only a couple of hours a day and it's a bit weird writing in English again. Anyhow the tutor reckons I should be able to catch up enough to do my GCE's next year.

I got a letter from Maddy, she wants to come visit, I'm not sure that's a good idea, I told her to talk to Mum. Great news about Rhod eh, I bet Ally will be made up.

I forgot last time, could you do me a favour? Have you got Martin's address, it's in my diary but I daren't ask Mum. In the meantime could you tell Marty I miss him? Cheers bud.

I'm looking forward to your next letter.

Hugs

Bernie

“Bernie?” Dad queried.

“Yeah.”

“She okay?

“Sounds like it, she's doing some school stuff and she reckons she might be out for when I go over.”

“That's good news. You got anything to do this morning?”

“Apart from kill my sister?”

“That's a bit extreme.”

“You didn't see the dress, where is Jules this morning? ”

“Gone up to Ká¶ln, something for school. So?”

“Apart from washing nah, why?”

“Well I want to set off about eleven to pick up the Grá¶nberg's.”

“Okay, I'll ring Mad then get the washing started.”

I took my cup into the lounge and hit the speed dial for Mad.

“Geez , Drew.” She moaned when she eventually picked up.

“What?”

“Its not eight o'clock yet.” She grumbled.

“Er sorry, so?”

“I did try ringing last night.”

“I erm misplaced my handy, tell you later, so how's Hel?”

“She's got like all these machines round her and all these tubes going in and out, it's terrible.”

“Cut to the chase Mad, how is she?”

“Spoilsport. Well she's off the critical list, we could only see her for like fifteen minutes, I gave her the disc.”

“Great, so now it's just waiting eh?”

“Uh huh, we should be able to visit longer after the weekend.”

“Give her my love, oh I got a letter from Bern.”

“Me too, hopefully I'll be going to visit her soon.”

Given what Bern wrote me I thought it best to drop that subject.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 08.10.2011

Wheels Within

“Mart? It's Gab.”

There was a yawn at the other end of the line.

“Morning, wassup?”

“Why does anything have to be up?”

“Because like, you never call me unless you want something, what time is it anyway?”

“Ten thirty? And nothing's wrong, I was just gonna pass on a message ; I got a letter from Bern.”

“Bern? What did she say, did she get my letter?”

“You only gave it to me this week! She's gonna write but she hasn't got your address where she is, she says she misses you.”

There was a sigh at the other end of the line, “ Thanks, Gabs ; hey great party last night.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “look gotta go but I thought I'd best let you know soon as.”

“Okay, see you Monday, tschuss.”

“Tschuss.”

I closed my handy and settled myself back into the seat.

“What are you plotting now?” Dad enquired.

Washing done, we were ready not much after ten so we were already on the E31 heading up towards Ká¶ln.

“Nothing, honest.”

“Hmm.” He didn't sound convinced.

We travelled in silence, well the radio was on but we didn't talk, Dad hummed to himself and I was lost in my own thoughts. The autobahn was busy, especially on the Ká¶ln Ring but we made good time nonetheless and it was only twenty-five to twelve when we left the motorway at Haan. The last bit of the journey didn't take long and we arrived at the Grá¶nberg's a little before quarter to.

Ron was talking to a girl on the front when we pulled up; they both looked over when I got out.

“Well I must be going.”

“See you Monday Mon, tschuss.”

“Hi Gaby, see ya!” the girl pushed off on her bike and waved back at us, “bye!”

“How'd she know my name?” I enquired.

“You remember Monika, I'm sure you've met before.”

“Not that I remember.”

“Maybe she recognised you from a picture?”

By now Dad had the car locked so we headed into the house.

There's still something wrong with Monika somehow recognising me, I just can't put my finger on it.

“You two want some food before we go?” Angela enquired as she put the kettle on for tea.

I know Dad gets a bit embarrassed by this hospitality stuff so I intervened on his behalf.

“Schnitzel?”

Roni snorted but Angela didn't miss a beat, “ Same for you Dave?”

“You could twist my arm.” He allowed.

“Peter? You want schnitzel?”

“Eh?” Roni's dad enquired coming into the kitchen cum diner.

“Schnitzel? I'm just doing some for Dave and the kids.”

“Sure, sure,” he agreed, “so Dave, where are you dragging my wife and daughter off to this week?”

“Hamburg, it's the Hessen Grand Prix.”

“No trip to the Reeperbahn eh?” Herr Grá¶nberg winked.

“I um, don't think that's on the itinerary .” Dad coloured up some.

“Peter, give over. He can be so rude.” She opined.

“What's the Reeperbahn?” I whispered to Roni.

“Tell you later.”

The speed Angela rustled up the grub she must've had it prepared already. As you might expect from Frau Grá¶nberg, the meat was just so, the sauce just right and the salad crispy. She herself just had a bowl of salad but the rest of us tucked in with gusto to the meaty delight.

Food disposed of, crockery loaded in the dishwasher and the bus loaded; we departed a little before one for the long drive north. As usual Ron and I made a bit of a nest in the back and settled in for the journey.

“So what's this Reeperbahn place then?”

“I can't believe you don't know.”

“Well I don't so spill.” I urged.

“Its like the most famous red light district in Germany, there's like loads of clubs an' stuff.”

“'Kay.”

“I think its all been cleaned up for the tourists these days but it used to be notorious.”

I guess that would cover the nudging and winking back in Mettmann.

“Its gonna be weird.” Ron stated somewhere up around Má¼nster.

“What's that?”

“You not being here.”

“Its gonna be weird for me too, it's only for like a few weeks though.”

“I guess.”

“Give you a chance to win a few.” I suggested.

“Hmm.”

“Josh is coming down for a couple of weeks.”

“Won't be the same though.”

“Hey, I just thought, how come your friend called me Gaby?”

“Did she?”

“Don't come the innocent with me Veronike Grá¶nberg, you know she did.”

“Um. Sorree, she like asked who the little blonde was, you know in that picture from Stuttgart.”

Well I guess it doesn't really matter, its not like I live in Mettmann is it?

“So they given you a programme yet?” Ron deftly changed the subject.

There's another can of worms. Apparently there is no set programme, just goals, primarily medals at the World Champs in September. The UK domestic programme is, shall we say, a bit light on international quality events so, Carol reckons we'll be spending time back this side of the Channel.

“We could end up in the same races!” Ron perked up at that news.

“I guess, but not on the same team.” I pointed out.

We made a comfort stop somewhere near Osnabruck then it was back to the featureless landscape that covers so much of northern Germany. Bremen was soon behind us as we started the final leg across Niedersachsen and up to Hamburg. The road might be boring but you tend to make good time, we were crossing the Elbe not much over four hours after leaving Grá¶nberg's.

“Are we staying in the centre?” Roni enquired.

“Not far out, some place by the river.”

It'll be some little pension miles from anywhere knowing Dad. I'd expected us to follow the ‘Centrum' signs but instead we followed the Lá¼beck signs back across the river, weird. We turned off the motorway almost immediately, the satnav earning its keep for once. The area was old industrial, not exactly nice, where were we staying, a navvy hostel?

The traffic was fairly light and after we crossed under the autobahn it turned into , if not quite open country , at least more rural.

“This looks like us.” Dad stated as a tower block emerged from the trees — well I guess it's not a pension then!

We turned into the drive and made our way into the car park of the Holiday Inn, Moorfleet.

“Whoa!” I offered.

“Not bad eh? ” Dad mentioned.

“How come? ” Roni started.

“We get to stay here?” Dad completed. “Well I was a bit late booking, everything more central was booked out, I got a cancellation here so it's actually costing less than usual.”

“Neat.” I put in.

“Come on then, let's get booked in, the others should be here soon, we can discuss eating and so on then , okay?”

Not only had Dad got a deal on our accommodation but he'd arranged the use of a meeting room as secure storage and workshop as well. Our rooms were up on the tenth floor, the view eastwards up the Elbe was spectacular, the room Dad had scored looked the other way over the post industrial landscape of Port Hamburg.

The rest of the team arrived in a hired bus having detoured via the centre to pick up Josh and Tali.

“It's a bit posh like.” The Geordie opined.

“Don't get used to it.” I told him.

“Hi you guys.” Gret grinned.

“Drewbie!” Tali announced, chucking her arms around me, “so who's with who?”

“Eat here or in town?” Dad enquired when we reassembled in reception.

“Town!” was the loud decision.

“Best take the hire bus then.” Dieter stated.

And so we streamed outside and climbed into the Sprinter that the northern squad were using, although the Vito has the same number of seats the bigger bus was — well bigger, less cramped. We managed to follow the signs into the city, parking by the big lake in the Centrum.

The lake, the Innen Alster was pretty busy with tourist boats, the nine of us headed around the shore towards what looked like some sort of floating restaurant. For a change we hadn't done the dressing up thing, it was too warm for fannying around, even Josh had shorts on. We finally got to the restaurant, it looked well cool.

“What do you think?” Dad asked, “Italian here or look for somewhere else?”

“They do do steak.” Tali mentioned, having read the menu more thoroughly.

“It's half seven, Dave, we could end up in McDonalds ®.” Dieter mentioned.

“Italian it is then.”

To be honest a good bowl of pasta was probably a good idea, a bit of carbo-loading before tomorrow's 160km, steak could wait till afterwards.

Despite appearances they easily accommodated our party, out on the deck literally over the Alster's waters. The weather had changed from overcast back at home to a balmy summer evening; it was cool to just chill out for a bit. Of course Dad had to spoil things a bit by talking shop as we ate.

It had started to turn a little chilly by the time the coffee arrived.

“Anyone want a quick spin around the sights?” Dieter offered.

“Its nearly dark, Dad, we won't see anything.” Gret stated.

“That's where you're wrong,” Tali told us, being a local she'd know, “the city comes to life at night, the Reeper, the water front, it's pretty cool.”

“So?” Dad enquired.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 10.10.2011

Kiel'd Over

Although the sky was clear, blue as anything, I had to suppress a shiver as we stood waiting for the start, not in Hamburg but in a place called Ahrensburg. Today we've got a big anti clockwise loop, Tali reckons it's undulating without any particularly steep climbs. In their wisdom the organisers have put a couple of primes in, one in Lubeck and the other in Kiel.

"Brrr."

"Oh come on , Gab's , it's not that bad." Gret noted.

"I'm still cold."

As is usual at these national series events we had to have the introductions, as series leader, Apollinaris ended up last to go, although we were wearing the lowest numbers. To be honest the crowd was a little thin this morning, I'm guessing due more to location than lack of interest.

"And finally the team who have dominated this years series, Apollinaris!"

There was some polite clapping as we stepped up on the makeshift stage.

"From left to right we have Josh Waff, Greta Luchow, leader of the girl's series, Veronike Grá¶nberg, Thalia Schmidt and finally our series leader Drew Bond."

We each gave a wave in turn. It might be good PR but when you have the series leader in both male and female and the team competition at stake, well it makes the other riders more aware of you. That and the stupid leader's jersey. I'd been on the lookout for faces I knew, as you might expect the bulk were from the north, I spotted several from Celle and Bremen but only a handful from down in Baden.

After a few more platitudes we were ushered back to our steeds.

"Everyone set?" Dad enquired.

"Uh huh."

"Yes , Boss."

"Everyone okay with the plan? Roni? Drew?"

"Yup."

"Okay, the feed is at some place called Eutin about twenty five after the first prime so be ready , Josh."

"Why aye."

The girls tittered.

"Okay, good luck and a safe race."

The other adults added their own input before leaving us to the mercies of about a hundred ravening, testosterone filled riders - and a few girls!

As usual the start was more for show than anything else; we were neutralized until the town exit board, 1km gone, lots to go. The plan was simple but fraught with potential hazards — have a go locals, concerted opposition shut downs, even outright hostility — look at what happened in Stuttgart. The plan? Oh right, get to the finish in one piece.

We were on the old Hamburg — Lubeck road with a rolling closure which was just as well, no one was too keen to set the pace this early and the peloton was more like a pile of blancmange moving along the road. Of course everyone seemed to be watching us, I'm pretty sure most of the field had encountered at least part of the team before but now there are five.

True to intelligence, the road rolled between the fields, a steady breeze on the right shoulder, it might become a factor later but for now we were too many to worry about it. The steady pace was broken after a few K's with a diversion through the first ‘town', a couple of locals pushed the pace a bit to look good for their supporters but once through things settled down again.

The front of the pack is the safest place to be and whilst we avoided setting the pace it's where we stationed ourselves, I spotted Hans keeping a watch nearby and the Paulaner guys close by too. I gave a nod to Eric, there were no collaboration plans in place but I reckon we can count on some support there. Some less friendly riders were marking us too, the guys we humbled at Bremen didn't look any too pleased to see us — ah well, that's their lookout.

The road turned slightly more into the wind which finally had some effect, the more experienced riders forming a more organized pack. We could hardly stay out of things now so we contributed just enough, the pace went up and it started to look more like a Deutsche Cup race. A quick look around the pack revealed a distinct hierarchy, the front consisting of the big teams and a few hopefuls, the rear; well if they hang on as far as the feed they'll be lucky.

“Links!”

I guess it was only a matter of time. Josh was on first watch and joined about half a dozen others giving the chase. The first prime was by reckoning less than ten kilometres off; this was a well timed attack. The attacker was wearing a jersey I didn't recognise but the chasers represented all the big teams.

We cut under first one motorway and then a second and then we were in Lubeck's western suburbs. Up ahead the leaders, for they were all together, had about two hundred on us, not enough to offer a long term problem but far enough to make a concerted chase a bit redundant with the prime less than five away.

Of course that doesn't mean no one fancied their chances, as the metres ticked down we were hit by a series of solo efforts. We switched around a huge roundabout then the road took a right turn downhill ; not steep but fast. There were a few unexpected braking moments on the next roundabout where we swung to face this city gate thing.

By the time I noticed the prime banner it was well past worth reacting, we zipped around the tower, over another bridge then a left onto the waterfront. Our route looped around the town before spitting us out onto a dual carriageway with all the excitement of, well nothing. As we made the gradual climb out of Lubeck the housing gave way to woodland and the leading pack hovered, some ten strong now, a little over a hundred metres ahead.

“Tunnel ahead.” Tali mentioned quietly.”

“Like Bremen?”

“Shorter but it's steeper on the exit.”

As usual we were using English; it won't fool all of them but enough.

“What do you think Ron?”

“Okay, but don't push it if you don't make contact.”

“The road'll be wet in there too.” Gret put in.

The road hit a brow the n flattened once again to a featureless strip of tarmac . A way in the distance assorted flashing lights indicated the tunnel entrance, the breakaway ahead looking quite business like. Of course the tunnel will usually be barred to bikes and according to the signs, not even fully open for a few weeks, but we had dispensation and as we approached the pay booths I made a few little adjustments and gave the girls a nod.

Talk about a gaping maw, I can understand how Jonah felt in the whale! The road pretty much tipped itself into the hole, I'd already taken care of my glasses, others hadn't been so observant. The flashing light of the lead car reflected off the walls giving an eerie feel to the subdued lighting. Around me others were relaxing, freewheeling even; I picked my spot ahead and manoeuvred to a clearer exit from the pack.

Any glance or signal would be picked up on immediately so I just had to hope the others were ready. We were nearly at the base of the slope, condensation kept the tarmac damp and from the hum of best part of a hundred cassettes whirring, the tone changed to a higher pitch hiss. The sign read ‘HerrenTunnel, 780m' ; less than 500 metres to make my move!

I'd intentionally dropped a sprocket lower than I needed to prevent at least some wheel spin on the damp surface — I shot forward to the sound of a chorus of echoing warnings. Once my speed was up I snicked up a gear and the group ahead started coming back towards me as they started onto the exit ramp. Friday evening's session had been good preparation for just such a move and whilst there was some cussing going on behind, there didn't seem to be a real reaction.

Rather than heave a huge gear out of the saddle I stayed at a higher cadence in a time trial tuck and the gap to the leaders seemed to shrink at every look. Ahead the first signs of daylight indicated the tunnel exit, if anyone ahead looked behind now, I'd most likely be just about invisible. Suddenly we were in sunlight and on the feeder lane away from the tunnel.

“Wotcha , Josh!”

“Geez , Drew , man, ya freetened me ha' to death there.”

“Couldn't let you have all the fun now could I?”

By now the others had assessed the new situation, if they didn't have experience they had surely heard the rumours, one Apollinaris wasn't too much threat but two…

The new link roads quickly gave out to some rather poorer surfaces in short order which soon had us riding line astern with some pretty long turns until we picked up the old road around a kilometre further on.

At this point, with over one hundred to go it would be daft to expect this group to go all the way, no this manoeuvre was designed to divert attention from the real plot! Another long straight road headed us directly towards a curiously out of place tower block, the next sign said Travemunde . O ur route headed past some huge ferries before chucking us into the old town. Our lead was still not much over one fifty; we must have been lost from sight a few times as we negotiated the old town.

The tower block turned out to be some fancy hotel right on the coast, the earlier breeze now fair ripping across the flat parkland. The ground to our left clearly rose away from the coast; no doubt there'd be a climb sooner or later. Our fellow escapees didn't quite know what to do now, keep going? The series leader must have a good reason for being up here, or sit up to spoil the ‘attack'?

“That went well.” Tali stated a few seconds behind.

“Leaves us with all the work again.” Gret grumbled.

“You know that's not right , Gret,” Roni put in, “it keeps him out of trouble, and with three of us back here it might put a few off the scent.”

“You would say that.” Gret mumbled, clearly not everyone in Apollinaris was currently a Bond girl.

The road took a sharp left and in metres the climb came, neither long, steep nor technical but clearly some weren't ready for it. Of course at fifty kilos Drew had quite a weight advantage over the larger, older riders in the group and romped easily clear up the couple of hundred metres of incline.

A look back as it levelled off revealed riders spread over a long strip of road, it's not like they were all flatlanders, certainly the Paulaner lad knew his way around a climb, but you only need one or two to hesitate and poof! Momentum gone to pot. I let my face show a bit of a grin as I waited to see who would rejoin me quickly.

In the end just three, Josh being the last. We checked each other out, exchanged acknowledgement of success and with no further ado formed an efficient if small rotation. The coast road was a bit in and out but we tipped down into Timmendorf with about two fifty metres clear of our one time companions, the main peloton some way behind them.

By my computer the feed station couldn't be too far away, my bottle was already looking a bit low. We turned off the coast road and that niggling wind now sat on our backs. Time to appraise the situation, we aren't supposed to be up here now, with the longest leg left, do we push on or ease up? Let's get through the feed.

“Crrsckk Jo screech, w, repeat crrsckk sh and crrsckk.”

“Flippin radio's rubbish.” Angela moaned to herself as she sorted out the musettes.

Angela and Sonja had drawn the feed, Dave and Dieter providing service. It's not that she minded but it was certainly easier when one of Drew's friends tagged along. The feed zone was smack in the centre of Eutin, a nice wide stretch of road deemed safe for this potentially dangerous job. With the full team riding it should be easier, the plan was for Josh to do the grab and distribute but clearly by Sonja's garbled message things, as usual, weren't going entirely to plan.

“Crrsckk pe…ton crrsckk thirty screech.”

Well maybe not quite so awry!

She quickly grabbed up the other bags and readied herself in the road as the lead car hove into view. There was a slight dip into the zone which allowed her to see the tiny lead group, phew, should be easy. She spotted Josh first, the tall Englishman sitting head and shoulders above his companions, so where's… ah of course the wrong jersey!

“ Thirty !” she shouted as Josh grabbed the musettes.

“I'll collect.” Tali offered as the feed warning sign flashed past.

“We'll get out of your way.” Roni noted, motioning grumbly Gret to go ahead.

“ Thirty !” Angela repeated when Tali came alongside, “four.”

Job done she hurried clear of the rest of the largely intact bunch to wait for her driver.

“Thirty , Drew , man.” Josh told his friend, passing over the bag marked ‘Bond'.

“Not much is it? How are you about it?”

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“If it was a minute like, I'd not hesitate but thirty, we must be in sight a lot of the time like.”

I got the others attention, not difficult as they were already ear wigging.

“How are you guys?”

“Truth?” Paulaner boy asked, I nodded. “I'm out of my depth here.”

“Me too.” The other lad agreed.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 12.10.2011

Luck of the Goddess

There wasn't time to dither, the peloton might take a little longer than us to sort out the foodstuffs but our window of opportunity was no more than a couple of minutes.

“The second prime is in about thirty k, if you fancy a slice of that I'll not contest but we need a minute there.”

The prize fund for the intermediates is quite good, to encourage racing, even fourth would net me two hundred Euros, so I hoped the lure of geld would galvanize them, Josh I already knew would go with pretty much anything.

“I'm in.” the Bavarian stated.

Our other element was clearly less confident but a moment later spoke up, “ Yup, okay let's do it.”

I nodded to Josh and he set to with one of his famous long turns to get things going. The others might not be used to this level of riding but they soon got the idea and by the time we traversed Plá¶n we had a nice rotation going at a steady thirty five.

As team leader, Roni was having to try to outthink Drew so that they could provide cover from the hostile peloton . The job was made a bit easier when a dropped musette caused a crash, taking out several useful looking riders.

‘Thirty seconds', Drew would attack with ten!

She checked out what remained of the bunch as she stowed her food.

‘No one daft enough to attack here, maybe a dozen potential ‘issues', I'll prime Gret ready to counter if the boys come back.'

‘What is he up to?' Dave mused after reading Angela's quickly scribbled time check. They were just supposed to get to the finish today, consolidate their positions in the championship before the summer break. Trying to second guess Drew Bond was like eating with chop sticks, frustrating, time consuming and ultimately futile. In that he took after his mother, George had collared him Friday night after the team's trip down to Koblenz; Drew had really blown the girls tried and tested reply to Jen's escape out of the water. Precocious talent, George had called it.

The bunch seemed to have settled down, the escapees apparently forgotten as they headed westwards.

Up at the front things were a little more fraught.

“Glad the wind's behind us.” Josh noted as we crossed a very open and flat bit of road.

“We need to keep the pressure up.”

“The big lad looks fair to blow now like.” Josh observed.

“Aye.” I agreed.

This whole move is a gamble; I just hope Roni an' the girls read things my way.

The sprint wasn't actually in Kiel proper but down by the quay. The approach was along wide boulevards before we finally dropped towards the water. I'd promised these guys I'd not contest things, I could easily have taken them but a deal's a deal, the neutral service was between us and the chasers so their effort deserved reward.

I wasn't taking part but Josh decided to make them work for it, I watched as the three of them raced as hard as if it was the finale. Our Bavarian friend took the big prize and I'm sure Josh sat up early so our other helper got second spot. By the time we were turned around and heading back past the Bahnhof I'd rejoined my breakaway companions.

“Danke Bond.” Mr Paulaner offered.

“No, thank you, there's enough on the peloton to stop all but the most determined from getting up.”

“I'm well pooped, Markus , by the way.” The other lad offered a hand.

“Drew and the engine is Josh.” I allowed in return.

“Stefan.” The Bavarian completed the introductions.

“You two going for it?” Markus asked.

“It's still a way to go, but yeah.” I didn't see any harm in admitting at least that much of the plan.

“Well good luck, we wouldn't have stood a chance in a big bunch sprint.” Stefan mentioned.

I couldn't afford to spend too long chatting, “You okay Josh?”

“As I'll ever be, man.”

“Good luck guys, see you in Hamburg.”

“Glá¼ck!” Stefan returned.

I clicked up a gear and within a very few metres it was just me and Josh.

“You sure about this, Drew man?”

“Not really, but it's worth a throw.”

“Aye, I guess we can expect company sooner rather than later, like?”

“Those two will muddy things but I guess we get a couple of K on our own before the girls get here.”

Well that's what I hoped would happen, even I'm daunted by being out here with just Josh for another sixty kilometres.

“Thought so.” Tali mentioned as the front of the diminishing bunch reeled in two of the escapees.

‘How do we react to this?' Roni puzzled over their options. “Gret!”

A moment later Greta slid alongside, “ Wassup Boss?”

“You fancy having a go?”

“Chase the boys? Too right!”

“Me an' Tal'll power things up a bit.”

Although flat the road was far from straight as it took them south towards Neumunster. The constant turns prevented the wind becoming more than a niggle, Drew easily sheltering behind Josh who in turn took what little he could get from his team mate. They were a good jaunt out of Kiel when the neutral service pulled back.

“Coming up,” Josh mentioned, “wait?”

“'kay.” I agreed, this wasn't capitulation, just tactics.

We kept up a rotation, albeit at a reduced pace, even so we had another kilometre on the clock before a puffing Greta rolled past us. I checked out the other arrivals, all of our girls were up, as well as about a dozen others. Quite a handy group — and weighted in our favour.

“You took your time.”

“We haven't all got your legs.” Roni grinned.

“Bloody good job!” Tali mentioned from behind me.

“Josh ok?” Ron enquired.

“Think so, he put in some big turns, the others were in a bit deep.”

We split up and joined the rotation which was going at a steady lick, each pedal turn taking us closer to the finish.

We slipped through Neumunster under skies increasingly dominated by cloud, the breeze having strengthened to ‘annoying' which encouraged a more rapid turn about in the bunch, no one wanting to be exposed too long. With five Apollinaris riders making up nearly a third of the group, there was a little reticence amongst the others to do too much. With best part of fifty k remaining we could hardly sit up, the chasers are still there after all.

“Drew!” Roni hissed.

“Yes mon Kapitane?”

“Input please, how'd you read things?”

“Three or four might contest a sprint, the rest — well a couple might try a long one, that kid in the blue is looking nervy, they're mostly watching us.”

“Yeah I picked that up, weather's closing in.”

“We could up the pace, close things down, could lose a couple.”

“Big gallop?”

“Could be interesting.”

“Try a long one first, see how they react?”

“Your call boss.”

We were on quieter roads now, the route jinking about, lots of junctions and changes in rhythm, ideal for an attack. Roni had words with each of the others, something that didn't go unnoticed amongst the other riders. What can you do?

The plan was simple, Gret and Tali take a flier at the next junction, the rest of us block and we react to the um, reaction. Everyone manoeuvred into place, just in time as it happens, the front runners hitting the brakes for the right hander. The girls simultaneously launched their effort which caused a round of cussing amongst the bunch as they took twenty metres by the time the rest of us cleared the corner.

The reaction was more co-ordinated than you often see, several of the stronger riders doing the bulk of the work, stringing us out, all thoughts of a rotation gone. Josh was up there ‘not working' with me and Ron a couple of slots further back. It was doomed as we had expected, the quick reaction reeled the girls back in under a kilometre but information gained.

“What was that about?” Dieter asked.

“Testing the waters.” Dave noted.

“You think it's going to a gallop?”

“I don't think anyone in there is strong enough for a clean escape, Drew maybe but it'd be a bit iffy.”

“Yeah,” Dieter agreed, “oh shit, one of ours!”

“Your rear tyre's looking a bit flat man.” Josh opined after the group settled back down.

“Thought it was a bit squidgy back on that last corner.”

“I'll cover yer like.”

I stuck my arm up to signal for service and by the time we were stopped Dieter was there with the wheels.

“Gallop!” Dad shouted from the car.

“Capes?”

“Okay.” Dad agreed.

The wheel was in, I quickly ran it into a lower gear and Dieter gave me a shove to get going. From stop to go maybe twenty seconds, the bunch seems to have missed what was going on so the deficit was quickly recovered. Roni and Gret dropped back to get the capes just as the first spots of H two O hit the asphalt.

With the arrival of the rain any idea of a solo getaway was diminished — yes you can pick your own line, yes you don't have wheel spray in your face but today, on the exposed roads of Holstein, being in a bunch has more going for it. We took turns caping up, no sense in laying ourselves open to attack; the other couple of riders with plastic macs did likewise.

Of course the finish isn't ‘in' Hamburg, can you imagine the chaos that would cause? No, we go as far as Norderstedt out near the airport and given I can see the control tower up ahead we can't have so far to go.

“As we discussed.” Ron told me.

“Kay.”

Josh took point duty, the rest of our little squad in close attendance behind. The rain was being whipped by the wind and sitting at the back kept me out of the worst of it for now. Our tractor hit the front and raised the pace, enough to make it a bit uncomfortable but not so much as to string us out too much.

A banner announcing ‘5KM' flapped in the wind, each rider vying to get as much cover from the rest as possible. Josh's long turn ended, Tali and Gret each taking shorter but faster sessions on the front. Whilst no one was keen to help us, a couple of lads did take a turn up there before Josh returned to the fray as the two kilometre banner was passed.

The idea was to keep the pace high right up to the sprint and our big Geordie lad is our team's powerhouse. As we entered the outer suburbs of Norderstedt, with barely a kilometre to go, Josh swung off to be replaced immediately by Gret. The bunch was starting to get agitated, there were a few nervous moments on the greasy roads as people switched about then Tali took over.

Four hundred, I concentrated on Roni's wheel, whilst keeping an eye on the jockeying going on around us. Ron signalled me left, nearly there, I checked everything, an extra click on the shoes, confirm my gearing, ready. No sooner had Ron hit the front than the sprint started.

We were still a long way out but there was no choice here, I hit the changer and stood on the pedals — it's every man — and woman for themselves.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 19.10.2011

On The Line

It was all a bit of a blur, the wet road, the competition giving it their all. Three riders were chucking their bikes around in front of me before I lit the blue touch paper; I spotted a gap and aimed for it. Sprinting is very cut and thrust, no easy ride if you want to win and the gap wasn't big.

My size allowed me slip under the elbows and keep going forward, the effect like a cork exploding out of a bottle. The line was close, the competition closer, no chance to relax. The red mist started to descend, grip the bars, keep pumping, hold it steady. I flashed through the finish and fully opened eyes I barely recall closing before ramming on the brakes to avoid a painful repeat of Stuttgart.

Dad was there and caught me as my chest heaved and I gulped in lung fulls of the moist Holstein air. All around me other riders were arriving, one didn't quite stop in time and sent an official flying — it's not just the riders who are at risk! The rest of the team were soon all around us, hugs, backslaps, grins, the whole gamut of emotions.

"And in third place for Team Apollinaris, Greta Luchow!"

Gret left the shelter of the team umbrella and climbed onto the podium to a round of cheering from our camp.

"Second place at half a wheel, Hans Brondby of Radsport Flensburg."

Another round of cheering from the northerner's supporters covered his ascent of the podium.

"Our winner today and series leader, Drew Bond!"

It wasn't just our lot that cheered this time; I got a good response from the bedraggled crowd as I climbed to the top of the blocks. It was a bit embarrassing to realise that even on the higher step Brondby stood over me and Gret wasn't so far behind. We'd done it though, another double podium and the others were up there too, even Josh who had piled on the pressure all day.

The awards ceremony was thankfully shorter than it might have been, the disgusting weather curtailing the speeches. It wasn't quite an Apollinaris whitewash, Stefan from Paulaner took the point's award, but we got the team and Josh got most aggressive rider — poor reward for all his effort.

“Okay , everyone, back to the hotel then dinner.” Dad announced.

“Is it okay if my parents join us?” Tali enquired.

“Of course, they know where we are?”

“I'll come with them.”

“Okay everyone let's shake a leg.”

Although there were changing facilities at the finish Dad had, as had become common practice, arranged a late checkout at our accommodation. As soon as the bikes were loaded our damp ensemble headed back to the river and the Holiday Inn.

“Nice ride, kids ? ” Dad called back as we passed the airport.

“Uh huh.” I grunted.

“You too, Roni ? ” Dad mentioned.

“I didn't podium , ” she sighed.

“You didn't have to, fifth is bloody good you know, you still go into the recess with a fifty point lead.” Dad enthused.

“Yeah but Gret…”

“Gret did great, you did great, the three of you girls have enough points that you could all not ride again this season and you'd maintain your placings in the competition.”

“But…”

“But nothing , Roni, you've all ridden yourselves into the ground this season.”

Ron visibly puffed up.

“You're quiet, Drew.” Dad suggested.

“Yeah well.”

“Not you too, you've won the series you know?”

“There's loads more events.”

“Only four are points scoring and only your top six placings count, no one else is within a remote touch.”

“Flippin' ‘eck!”

“Here we go, down in the restaurant in thirty.” Dad instructed as we piled out of the bus.

I pulled my wet kit off, urgh! Wet socks and wet shorts smell gross! I might have been first across the line and according to Dad I've won the series too but I still feel like crap. I let the hot water play over my back, slowly relaxing my muscles, so nice so…

“Drew? Drew? You okay?”

“Um?”

“Should I ring for Notarzt?” I heard Angela ask.

“Drew, can you hear me, lad?”

“Urgh.”

“Please Ang, I think he's in shock.”

Roni's mum left the wet room; Dave grabbed the towels and wrapped his offspring, holding Drew in a tight hug.

“Hold on, Drew, stay with us lad, please.” Dave looked at the spreading redness on the towels and shower floor in tears, “sorry Kiddo, I should have noticed there was something amiss on the bus.”

“On their way, Dave.” Angela advised, “we should get her out here, in the dry.”

“Yeah, er sure.”

Between them they manoeuvred the barely lucid form of the wunderkind out into the main room and onto one of the beds. The emergency medics arrived a moment later, they must have been close by, and soon all Dave could do was watch.

“What's happened?” Sonja enquired when Angela returned to the restaurant, “We saw the paramedics.”

“Drew's collapsed, we found her in the shower, she's lost a lot of blood.”

“Shit!”

“What's happening like?” Josh asked when the two women continued to babble away in German.

“Its Drew, he's collapsed.” Tali filled him in in English.

“The daft bugger!”

All thoughts of eating were gone as their focus moved to Drew's well being. Angela spotted the arrival of an ambulance outside and left the others to get some news.

“We'll get the train.” Angela told Dave a couple of hours later, “ You sure you'll be okay on your own?”

“The Schmidt's have offered a bed for as long as needed, the doctors seem confident we can get him transferred home in the next couple of days.”

“Well you know our thoughts are with you both.”

“Thanks, Ang, sorry about…”

“Dave, don't be so daft, you looked out for Roni last year, you look out for all of them so don't for one second think you are letting anyone down, all that matters is that Drew gets well okay?”

“Uh huh.”

“Henry's going to drop me and the girl at the Bahnhof so I'd best not keep the poor chap waiting, keep me posted eh and ring Jenny.”

“I will, have a safe trip, you've got enough money?”

“We've been through this Dave.” She pulled him into a hug and held him tight, “ Now go in there and look after that child, eh.”

Angela Grá¶nberg wiped more than a single tear from her eye as she hurried away from the female medical ward.

“Dad?”

“Here, kiddo.”

“Where am I, what happened?”

“Hospital in Hamburg, what do you remember?”

“I wasn't feeling great, I know I got in the shower.”

“That's where Angela and I found you, you must have blacked out and slipped.”

He didn't want to mention the blood just yet.

“Kay, s'why ‘m I here?”

“The Doc thought you were a bit anaemic, you've had a transfusion of some fully loaded red stuff.”

“That like doping?”

“I think the authorities might overlook it this time. You have been taking your supplements?”

“Course, so when do we go home, Roni'll be itching to go.”

“They left,” Dave checked his watch, “about three hours ago, it's nearly nine now.”

“Shitza!”

“You should get some sleep.”

“Mum know?”

“I left a message with George, your sister will let your friends know.”

“Thanks.”

It was like a switch, one moment he was talking and smiling, the next he was gone.

“Jen,” George called out to his star rider, “a moment please.”

Jenny left the other girls arguing over some inconsequential thing or other and joined her boss in the hotel's reception area.

“What's up?”

“I've just had Dave on the phone.”

“What's he ringing you for? He's got my number.”

“Its Drew.”

“The lummox, what'd he want — Drew? What about Drew?”

“You'd best sit, Jen.”

“Why? What's happened? George?”

“They found him collapsed in the shower after the race.”

“Shower? Race? What do you mean collapsed?”

“They were all meeting to eat, when Drew didn't arrive they went looking for him. He was still haemorrhaging when they found him, the medics rushed him straight to hospital.”

“Oh my god, my baby!”

“What's up?” Maria enquired.

“They've taken my baby!” Jen wailed.

“There's been an accident,” George advised, “Drew.”

Maria was already holding her friend, “ It'll be alright Jen, calm down girl, George, a large brandy if you will.”

Roni stared out of the window at the featureless countryside, it might be the high-speed ICE train but she couldn't enjoy it. She hadn't been allowed to see Drew, her Mum was running on adrenaline and everything was just — why Drew, why today?

“You okay luv?” Angela enquired of her daughter, “I spoke to Dad, he's gonna meet us at Dusseldorf.”

“Kay.”

“Dave'll ring us.”

To tell them what though? The poor kid had been stable when they'd left, stable but very poorly, was it just extreme anaemia and if so, what was all the blood about? Hang in there, Drew!

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 20.10.2011

It's a Boy er Girl!

"Dad?"

"You're awake, how're you doing?"

"Sore."

"I can guess, the Docs want to do some tests, you lost a lot of blood kiddo."

"How, why?"

"That's what the Doctors want to find out."

"It's because of the er girl bits isn't it."

"It's quite likely kiddo but they want to check before doing anything."

"Why couldn't I be like normal?" I started to blub.

"It'll be okay kiddo."

"But what about England, BC, I won't be able to go now."

"We don't know that, I'll ring Caro later, let them know what's going on."

"I'm scared Dad."

"I know kiddo, I know." Dad pulled me into a hug which at least calmed me down some.

"Jen? Can you talk?"

"Dave? What's happening, how is he? "

"Out of immediate danger."

"Thank heavens, so what was it? George wasn't very specific."

"Well neither was I last night, it seems his um girl bits have 'matured '."

"It was a period ?"

"I should have spotted the symptoms."

"You wouldn't be looking for them Dave, so the blood?"

"It had to go somewhere, it burst into his bowel, the Doctor did say a lot more but they've repaired the damage."

"Why now? Most girls have started in their early teens."

"Late developer? The medics think it was caused by the effort in the sprint, a build up of pressure."

"But he doesn't have..."

"They've inserted a temporary drain."

"My poor baby."

"He should be clear to travel tomorrow so we'll get him home before deciding anything eh."

"I wish I could be there."

"Drew knows the score luv."

"I know but,"

"But you'll be here when he needs you."

"I'll be back in Dernau Monday whatever."

"I'm sure we can use the phone if we need to make any urgent decisions."

"What's going to happen , Dave?"

"I really don't know luv, I really don't know."

"Well, young lady, it seems you have some plumbing that needs sorting out."

Talk about embarrassing. All morning the medics have been using female nomenclature (see I'm not thick!) in respect of me and its darn well getting on my–erm–tits . And now, well now.

"I've spoken with your doctor in Koln who has brought me fully up to speed. It seems that the unlikely has turned into reality, for some reason your apparently benign fallopian system has burst into life, your hormone levels are within the normal parameters for a girl of your age, yesterday's bleeding will be a regular feature from k now on."

Just what I need - not!

"Why now Doctor?" Dad asked the $64000 question.

"Who knows? A change in diet or routine, I think we would have been here sooner but for your sport. It's possible that you've had smaller discharges which have been absorbed internally, this time it was too much."

"So what happens now?"

"The drain we have fitted you with is only temporary, you will need surgery, and soon if we are to prevent any repeat of yesterday - we might not be so lucky a second time."

Sugar with extra sweetener.

"You have several options at this stage, I'm sure your specialist has mentioned them already."

Indeed he has, cut off my manhood or cut out the girl bits, one way I'm sterile, the other I could, potentially become a parent - a female parent. Is there a third option? This whole conundrum comes back to haunt me on a regular basis but now, now I need to make a decision.

"What would be your advice?" Dad asked.

"Personally I'd opt for the vaginoplasty; you have a very beautiful daughter, sort the plumbing to match. But that's just my opinion; you need to do what's right for you eh."

Right for me. What is right for me?

“How are you doing?”

“Okay I guess.”

Well I'm not exactly comfortable, my bum's sore, I've got the drain digging into me every time I move and I've got like this huge sanitary pad strapped between my legs. Oh yeah and I'm wearing a ridiculously frumpy dress that Dad found in one of those terrible Kik Textil places — I might not like wearing dresses an all that but really, I look like a right dork in this.

“You want to stop?”

Read the above!

“Nah I'm okay for now.”

“It's still about two hours to home.” He pointed out.

“'kay.”

Monday was dire, I got prodded, poked and vampired most of the day and when Tali and her rents dropped by I barely got a chance to talk. So Dad went to use the Schmidt's spare bed whilst I got to share a side ward with a selection of old biddies with more complaints and moans than even Jules. A pleasant night it was not.

Which brings us to today. The Doc reckoned I was okay to travel — with some provisos, I get to see the specialist Thursday and I'm stuck with the pipe and nappy for the foreseeable. Joy. But the good news is that I get to go home, what happens next I still don't know.

“Bit of a conundrum eh?”

“Just a bit Dave.” Caroline agreed.

Ever since getting the call from Dave out in Germany she k new that sooner or later she'd be having this conversation with the Director. The whole situation was unprecedented, no doubt the UCI would get involved, certainly the long term performance plan w ould have to be reappraised.

“You mentioned that this all happened after some event in, where was it, Hannover?”

“Hamburg, the Holstein Junior Grand Prix.”

Dave Brailsford raised a brow for her to go on.

“Drew took a close sprint for the win, his Dad says he has an unassailable lead in the German league, the team has bundled the girls and team competitions too. You know they have the Waugh lad riding for them now?”

“The tall Geordie?”

“That's the one.”

“So to recap, the Bond kid has won or placed in every start this season riding against the strongest competition in Europe.”

“Uh huh.” Caro agreed.

“And this … condition means he'll be batting for the other team now?”

“Crudely put, but yeah, essentially he's already there.”

“Bugger!”

‘Indeed' Caro agreed, ‘indeed!'

The Director took a sip of his coffee, “ U rgh, cold! Okay, here's what we do, watching brief , Caroline. Assuming he's fit we proceed as planned, two weeks here at central then the Euro tour, keep a close eye on things and the UCI out of it for now.”

“What about Madrid?”

“Indeed, any ideas?”

“When do we have to name the squad?”

The Boss flicked through his diary, “ L et's see, junior, junior, junior, here we go, junior road events, September second.”

“So we have a week after the Danish tour.”

“Where are you going?”

“We've got the Cavendish lad in the under 23's.”

“Yes.”

“He's showing some promise, if we have to lose Drew we could drop Cavendish into the slot.”

“Possibly, what about Madrid?”

“If we have to , we get him, well her I guess, re registered for the girls.”

“Hmm, let me think on it, we'll have to let John Ward in on developments vi s á  vi s Bond junior, hmm, meeting Friday morning?”

“Should be okay, Dave said he'd call Thursday evening so we should have some more information to work with.”

“Nice frock!”

I made a discrete signal with a digit towards my sister.

“Give me a hand Jules, Drew inside.”

“I'm not an invalid.”

“You do look like a right Mary though,” my helpful sister pointed out.

Good enough reason to get indoors I guess.

“Drew? You up for visitors?” Dad called up to my eyrie where I have taken refuge since we got home this afternoon.

“I guess, who is it?”

“I er seem to have a bit of a delegation downstairs.”

“The girls?”

“For the most part I'd say so.”

Shitza.

“Erm, let me get dressed, like five minutes.”

“You need any help?”

“Da-ad! I can dress myself!”

“Five minutes.”

How did the guys know I was back? Jules, it ha d to have been Jules. It's not like I was trying to avoid them or anything but I really could have done without them this evening. Now then, what to wear?

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 23.10.2011

Sickbed

“She'll be down,” Dave started to tell the gaggle of teens in the hallway.

“In five minutes!” the girls chorused.

He couldn't help but join in the chuckles.

“Go on in.”

“Thanks Herr Bond.” Connie offered.

Of course, as usual it took me closer to ten to get dressed, with the drain anything like jeans was out so I had to find a skirt or dress to wear. Not of course that that's difficult just, well, girly, not the way I dress. I settled on one of my denim jobs teamed up with a baggy sweat top.

“There you are.” Dad stated the obvious.

“Duh!”

“I'll leave you–er–g irls to it.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I told his departing back.

I was pretty much engulfed by the girls at that point.

"Give over!"

"We were worried." Anna exclaimed.

"You don't have to crush me."

"Are you alright?" Steff asked.

"I'll live, um anyone want a drink?"

"We'll sort them." Con offered.

"Kay." I agreed finding a seat; my bum is still pretty sore so I opted for the sofa.

A few minutes later everyone was clutching beverage containers and tales of Silverberg Gymnasium dried up.

"So come on then Gabs ," Pia pressed, " what happened on Sunday?"

"I won the Grand Prix."

"Geez Bond, you are so obtuse at times!" Nena opined.

"Moi?"

"You know damned well what she meant," Anna scolded, "now spill."

No escape.

"I er had a um plumbing malfunction." I offered.

"But it's sorted now." Steff stated.

"Well not exactly, they kinda repaired things, did a temporary fix like but I'll have to get some more surgery."

"Stefan's sister Anke had something like that." Brid noted.

I bet she didn't! I can hardly tell this lot exactly what happened or the treatment, heck, I'm not even sure of that myself.

"So you going to school tomorrow?" Con enquired.

"Don't think so, I have to go see the specialist on Thursday so I shall likely be off all week.

“Come on you lot, the invalid needs some sleep and you've all got school tomorrow.” Dad suggested some time later.

“Aww, Daa-ad.”

“Don't you aww me, young lady.”

“Your Dad's right Gabs, we should get moving.” Pia agreed.

And so the Ahr Angels gathered their stuff and left me with the old man.

“That was nice of them.” Dad mentioned rejoining me in the lounge.

“Yeah, they coulda stayed longer, it's not like I'm really ill.”

“Listen to me young lady, Sunday was a wake up call, not just for you but for all the family. Regardless of what you may think now, you were in real danger of not making it, you lost a lot of blood and your condition is serious. It's not a game Drew, this isn't a few bruises from falling off your bike.” He finally ran out of steam.

There wasn't really anything for me to say; of course I know it's serious, but still.

‘Doodle doot, doodle doot, doodle doot.' The house phone chirped from the coffee table interrupting our ‘conversation'.

Dad picked it up, “Bond…oh hi…yes…uh huh…yes she's here, I'll put her on, its for you.”

I took the phone from him, there was a bit of a tweak ‘down below' when I sat back into the cushions.

“Hello?”

“Drewbie!”

“Geez , Mad, you don't need to shout, why'd you ring the house?”

“Your mobile's been switched off for like days.”

“Er right.”

“You okay?”

“Apart from splitting my insides and losing gallons of blood?”

“Your Dad said when he rang on Monday, so?”

“So I'll live but I think the wedding's off.”

“Wedding?”

My attempt at humour sailed straight over her head.

“So how is Hel?”

“Oh much better, she should be home by the weekend, she's gonna have a doozy of a scar though.”

“I bet she prefers that to not being around.” I proffered.

“Anyway, she sends her love, of course that goes double for me and Ali too.”

“Still no word from Rhod?”

“I think they're at his Gran's, Sylv's was shut when I went round at the weekend.”

Gran. She'll know what I should do; I'll ring her tomorrow.

“Uh huh.”

“You still coming over?”

“Hell yeah! Well I hope so, the Doc didn't say I couldn't ride or anything.”

“Kewl.” Mad allowed.

“Er Dad's making wind up signs, thanks for ringing.”

“No problemo chica.”

“Whatever, oh can you say high to the others for me Mads ?”

“This isn't a message service you know! Yeah of course.”

“Thanks.”

“You just get well eh.”

“I'll try, bye Mads .”

“Bye Drew.”

I was actually feeling pretty tired by now so I made my excuses and made a slow ascent to Camp Drew.

When you're at school or I guess it's the same if you are at work, the idea of just taking a day off, doing what you like is something that I'm sure everyone at least fantasises about. I guess a lot of the attraction is the ‘naughtiness' of taking the time off. By ten o'clock I was just about pulling my hair out.

“Just because you're not at school doesn't mean you can laze around the house all day.”

“Yes Dad, I mean no Dad.”

“Hmm.” He wasn't sure if I was pulling something, I can tell, “ Stick the dishwasher on while I'm out please, we'll go and do a shop when I get back okay, grab some lunch.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“I'll be about an hour.”

“'Kay.”

As soon as I heard the Saab start up I collapsed onto the sofa, wincing slightly as my stitches resisted my abuse. I could do with a good ride really, I think best when I'm pounding the tarmac and I've certainly got some thinking to do. Thinking, hmm, Gran! That's it, I'll ring Gran.

“You've reached Josie's phone,” the answer machine started, “I'm not able to take your call right now, leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you…beeeep.”

“Gran, it's Drew, I really need to talk to you…”

The phone clicked, “Drew love, sorry I didn't pickup straight away, I've had a lot of funny calls lately.”

“Gran.” I pretty much sobbed. “It's all wrong Gran.”

“There, there love, tell your ol' Gran all about it, eh.”

I don't talk to Gran nearly enough these days but she's always ready to listen to my woes. I got my tears under control and drew a breath.

“I guess Dad's told you about the weekend?”

“How my favourite grandson won the race or afterwards?”

“ Don't you mean grand daughter, afterwards.”

“Yes he's told me kiddo.” She soothed.

“I don't know what to do Gran, I don't want to be a girl, not for real, not for always, I mean it can be fun sometimes but afterwards I can go back to being me.” I sniffed.

“You'll always be you, Drew.”

“Yeah but I'll be a girl, Gran.”

“Lot's of us are.”

“But I'm not supposed to be, I'm a boy.” I wailed.

“Drew love, we've talked about some of this before, I can't make the decision for you, as long as you are you, whether you decide to try to be a man or a woman, I'll love you whatever.”

“The Doctor thought I should get fixed as a girl cos like everything inside sort of works.”

“I can see his logic.” Gran opined.

“My outside bits,” I blushed down the phone, “my outside bits, he said they're sterile so like I can't ever be a dad like.”

“I didn't know that, how do you feel about that?”

“I dunno, a bit sad I guess, I mean it's not like I want a family right now or anything but, well it's like there'll always be this space?” a tear ran down my cheek.

“You could always adopt, when it's time.”

“It'd never be the same Gran.”

Josie had to agree, adoption can help fill a need but however much the child is loved, they are never 100% yours.

“And if they made you a girl, sorted out your plumbing?”

“You mean be a mother myself?”

“You'd have all the equipment.” She pointed out.

“I'm not gay, Gran!”

“No Drew, I didn't think for one moment you were , it wouldn't bother me if that was the case. But girls, women are equipped to produce the next generation.”

“But I'd have to have sex. With – a -- a boy !”

“That's how it usually works.”

“I said, I'm not gay!”

“A man and a woman Drew, you'd be the woman, the mother.”

She has a point. Maybe I need to think beyond my body image. But like snogging a boy !

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 25.10.2011

Change of Perspective

"You ready?" Dad asked.

"Er yeah, I guess."

"Well shake a leg then."

My conversation with Gran has certainly had me thinking, what does my future hold? I thought I knew, a dazzling career racing bikes then marriage, kids, yeah I'd be famous but otherwise unextraordinary. And now, now that's all turned on its head.

"Dreamy knickers, are you coming or what?" Dad prompted.

"Just getting my bag."

Not exactly a glowing indictment of my maleness.

We drove down to Remagen, the supermarket there is the biggest locally, I got to push the trolley, a childhood treat. Sainsbury's it's not but you can get most stuff here. I trundled along the aisles lost in thought, well not so much lost but rather letting my thoughts drift.

I idly watched a woman herding her brood of pre-schoolers along ahead of us, she looked tired and harassed. Is that what awaits me in the future, or would I be like the middle-aged woman on the deli counter who I caught wistfully watching the same family?

"Plain or chocolate?" Dad asked waving some biscuits at me.

"Eh? Oh plain."

I used my reflection in the back of a cabinet to check my hair, geez am I already that much of a girl?

“Drew, Drew!” Dad called from further up the aisle.

“I'm coming already.”

With a heave I got the trolley in motion, how do the wheels end up facing the wrong way every time you stop? Of course then the damned thing ended up with that much momentum I struggled to control it and only just avoided ramming the young mother's equally laden contrivance.

“Sorree!”

“No damage, eh?”

One of the toddlers, rampant on the floor decided to grab my leg at this point.

“Mama.”

“Gott, she's always doing this, sorry.”

“It's okay,” I leant down to toddler height, “and what's your name?”

“Neek, yellow!” she grabbed a handful of my hair.

“Aneka, let go of the lady's hair!”

“Yellow!”

I was pinned down by the little dear now, nothing for it; I grabbed the child and lifted her up.

“Yellow.”

“Go to mummy, Aneka.” I encouraged.

“Lady yellow hair.”

“I'm really sorry, she's fascinated by blonde hair for some reason; Aneka, let go!”

Between us we managed to pry the little monster free of my locks and I moved out of range of the grappling puddies.

“Jackie.”

“Gaby.”

She looked at me slightly askance, “ Have we met before, your face looks familiar?”

“I don't think so.”

“Something on the telly then, nah must be a coincidence.”

“Yeah.” I agreed.

“Josef!” she screeched, “sorry Gaby, have to rescue the Gummi Bears again!”

And she was away to track down another of her brood.

“You want strawberry or raspberry jam?”

“Raspberry.”

“You want ice cream?”

“Er sure, Dad?”

“What Love?”

“You know when you were my age?”

“Yeah?” he allowed with a frown.

“Did you like think about having kids and stuff?”

“Hell no! Rugby and a snog behind the bike sheds were my obsessions back then. What's brought this on?”

“I was just wondering.”

“Well at your age you should be thinking about school, a career maybe not when you are going to have sprogs — oh bugger, I've put my clog into it haven't I.”

“No Dad, it was my fault it was a silly question.”

“No it wasn't, come on let's finish up here and go get that lunch, we can talk better then.”

“'Kay.”

We trundled around the rest of the store, I did remember to get a pack of tights for school, then joined the inevitable queue to pay behind, as it happens, Jackie and her munchkins.

“Oh hi again.”

“Yellow!”

I kept my distance from Aneka!

“Er yeah.”

“You've had me thinking all the way round.” Jackie admitted.

“I have?”

“Uh huh.”

“About what?”

“Where I knew you from.”

“And?”

“You were on the telly, some fancy hoity toity wedding, it was you, wasn't it?”

“I erm,”

“If Your Grace would be so kind…” Dad suggested.

“I knew it! Never forget a face; you looked a lot taller on the telly.”

“I erm was wearing heels.” I offered glancing down at my ballet pumps.

“That'd be it.” Jackie enthused.

“Ninety three fifty lady.” The cashier prompted my new found fan.

“Oh sure, right.”

From mother to gibbering wreck in ten minutes, what is it with people?

Jackie paid for her groceries and collected Josef and his sister from the cashiers counter.

“Nice to meet you your ladyship.” She even sort of did a bit of a curtsey!

“And you too, bye.”

“So what was that about?”

“Well the poor girl was obviously star struck; I only sort of suggested a title.”

“Daa-aad!”

We transferred the contents of the trolley into the car and readied ourselves to depart.

“Where to your ladyship?”

“The Anker?”

“Sounds good to me.” Dad agreed.

It was only a five minute drive, onto the bypass, round the town then drop down to the river front. We found a spot to park not too far from the Anker, a once grand hotel / restaurant but like so much else in town, now a shadow of its former splendour — the food's okay though!

“We having dinner later?”

“Nothing special.” Dad replied.

“In that case I'll have the liver.”

“Will you indeed.”

I fluttered my eyelashes at him, “ Pretty please.”

That just got a roll of the eyes, when the waitress finally came over; he ordered the liver for both of us and a round of soft drinks.

“So kiddo, you still want to talk?”

“It's a bit hypothetical really.”

“But important nonetheless.”

“Well it's just that I hadn't thought about it at all, having kids that is, until yesterday. I mean, I know the mechanics side of things yeah but I'd never really considered even if I wanted a family at some point, it was like all in the future.”

“I hope it still is.” Dad noted.

“Duh!”

“And now?”

“And now it's sort of an immediate thing. If I want kids in my future, my own that is I really only have one option don't I?”

“From what the doctor said in Hamburg this whole thing means you have one more option than you had, or at least we thought you had before.”

“I was never gonna be a real Dad was I?”

“No, kiddo.” Dad agreed, a tear forming in his eye.

“Two liver?” we were interrupted by our servitor.

“Yes thanks.”

“So, everything okay, more drinks?”

“We're fine thanks.”

“Enjoy your meal.”

The food looked good, smelled good and tasted good — we've eaten here before so I kind of knew what to expect. We ate in silence for a while before Dad reopened the conversation.

“So what are you thinking?”

“I dunno, to be honest the whole idea of being the mother is scary, I sort of understand what Bern's been going through a bit. I mean when it's someone else going through it it's all a bit remote. No that's not the word, erm…”

“Detached?”

I munched some more of my lunch, “Yup.”

“And now?”

“Now it could be me, if I want. Which is like really odd because proper women don't really get the choice like that.”

“You might be coming by a strange route kiddo, but you are a proper woman; as proper as your mother and sister.”

“That's just it, Dad, I don't know whether I want to be, I was quite happy being a boy.”

“You really need to talk to your mother about this; I'm hardly the expert on motherhood.”

“That's just it Dad, Mum'll be like Gran was, all ‘it's what we do, the miracle of birth, la di da' — they're like super biased, with you, well I think you kind of get my side of things better.”

Dave looked at his soon to be daughter — was that really the only option?

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 26.10.2011

Doctoring

“Bond, raum drei.” The receptionist called from her desk.

“That's us.” Dad sighed.

My stomach did somersaults as I gathered my stuff, I'd come prepared with a book and everything and here we were being called for our appointment early! Reluctantly I followed Dad back past the receptionist and along a short corridor to a door wearing ‘Raum 3' and below that a sliding board bearing ‘Dr Fischer'.

Dad quietly rapped on the door.

“You okay, kiddo?”

“Kinda.”

“COME.” Sounded from within.

Dad opened the door and ushered me inside.

“Ah, our young Radrennerin, hello again Drew,” he offered a hand which I shook loosely, “and this I guess is your Vá¤ter?”

“Dave, Dave Bond, yes.”

“Dr Fischer.”

The two shook and we all sat.

“So how is the racing going?”

“Okay I guess, you win some, you lose some.” I shrugged.

“But my sources tell me you win rather more than you lose.” He lifted an eyebrow.

“I suppose.” I allowed.

I guess he was trying to put me at ease but those damn winged things continued to make my stomach churn.

“So, it seems Mother Nature, she has her own timetable eh? Dr Schindler in Hamburg outlined things for you?”

“Pretty much.” Dad agreed.

“He's sent down the bloods, given the nature of the problem I asked him to do a full bank of tests. It seems that your ovaries have matured; we knew it was a possibility but I guess our timing was a little out. We've had you on iron tablets for what, a year?”

“More like eighteen months.” Dad supplied.

“In hindsight we may have spotted this sooner but what is done is done. Having spoken with Dr Schindler and looking at the samples we think that you may have been ovulating for several months.”

“Periods?”

“Indeed.”

“So why didn't it burst out before?”

“Why indeed? Our best guess is that previously the bleeding was relatively light, the material eventually re-absorbed. This time it just happened to be a heavier bleed and your efforts at the race; well they combined to cause the perforation. Have you felt bloating before Sunday?”

“Occasionally I guess, it soon passed though.”

“Hmm.” He made a note on the stack of papers before him, “ When we last saw you we checked your hormone balance, yes?”

“Uh huh, you said my testosterone was pretty low.”

“That's correct, I have to say that generally in such a situation we would have put you onto a low dose to try to stabilise things, as you know we decided to take a watching brief due to your sport. This week's results I'm afraid have seen a further drop in testos production, pretty much a trace level typical of a pubescent female, oestrogen levels are almost normal for that same female.”

“Bum.”

“So you're saying that he's not producing any significant male hormones?” Dad pushed.

“Exactly. With the secondary characteristics already evident I would say that except for a bit of plumbing Drew is about as female as you get.” Dr Fischer stated.

“But I've got the men's equipment.” I pointed out.

“How do you say, ‘A red herring', as reproductive organs they are redundant, the testes are sterile and the penis cannot sustain an erection.”

Talk about embarrassing, its true but put like that, and in front of Dad.

“Dr Schindler said there were options on how to proceed?” Dad prompted.

“Indeed Herr Bond, indeed. Option one would be to perform a hysterectomy, remove the problem and with other cosmetic surgery make Drew appear male, we would need to administer a cocktail of hormones to kick-start some form of male puberty.”

“But he'd still be sterile?” Dad asked.

“I'm afraid that's true.”

“Option two?”

“Option two is, if you like, the opposite approach, we make a vaginal canal, remove the male features, complete the job Mother Nature has only half done.”

“Vaginal canal?”

“yes, what we term a vaginoplasty, normally we have to wait until the patient is eighteen but in this case it would be considered a medical emergency so we could proceed as soon as.”

“Are there any other options?” I asked, I couldn't see how there could be, a bit of straw clutching on my part.

“Well in theory yes but I have to say that it's not really a long term solution.”

“Which is?”

“We make you a more permanent version of the drain Dr Schindler fitted you with.”

Great, I become a eunuch, some sort of hermaphrodite or a girl.

“What's the time scale Doctor?” Dad enquired.

“There are hoops we have to jump through, surgery timetables and so on, the sooner the better really but certainly no more than three more cycles, we can put you on contraceptives to temporarily stop ovulation.”

“Your advice?”

“The vaginoplasty, your female plumbing seems to be fully functional and is at least theoretically fertile, you present very well as a girl, I think as a man you would always appear effeminate.”

“Thank you , Doctor.” Dad offered.

“Any more questions?” the Doc asked, “I guess you need some time to make your decision, I can put you in touch with a counsellor if you wish?”

“No thanks.” Why do I need a shrink?

“Okay then, I'll give you a script for the birth control pills, and if we can conference again, let's see,” he checked his diary, “Monday week? Say ten AM?”

“We'll be here, thank you Doctor.”

“Er yeah, thanks.” I added.

We picked up my prescription on the way back to the car both of us keeping our thoughts to ourselves.

“Straight home?”

“I guess.”

“We can get some lunch in Ká¶ln first if you like.”

“Maybe in Bonn?” I suggested.

“I guess we can do Bonn.”

“We don't have to.”

“No Bonn's fine, anywhere in particular?”

“The Dinea, if we park near the station we can look in the Spielhaus on the way.”

“There had to be an ulterior motive.” Dad chuckled putting the car into gear. “So, any thoughts on what the doctor said?”

“My options haven't changed.” I sighed.

“Look kiddo, I'm not going to try to coerce you into any particular choice, you know we'll stick by your decision, whichever it is.”

“Uh huh.”

“For my two bob's worth…”

“I should do the vagina thingy.” I interrupted.

“How'd you?”

“Dad, I'm not stupid, I know that most people, no make that everyone I meet these days thinks I am a girl already. The Doc's right, I'd never make much of a bloke, I'm one sixty tall and under fifty kilos, puny for a bloke, petite for a girl, all my friends are bigger than me. I don't want to be a girl, I want to be a man but lets face it, with my plumbing I am already a woman, the surgery will just finish the job.”

Dad drove on past the airport in contemplative mood.

“You sure about this? You know it will affect your cycling?”

“I've done nothing but think since the weekend, Dad. It'd be nice to see this season out as me, as Drew and I guess the development squad stuff isn't going to happen now. But there's always next year right?”

Yeah I've been thinking about racing a lot, I'll never aspire to a lot if I go the male way, but maybe, just maybe I can follow in Mum's wheel tracks in the women's peleton.

Dad gave me an appraising look, “ What if you could finish this season?”

“How?”

“Those contraceptives, they should stop your periods, if we tell Dr Fischer to organise everything for say late September, it's not that far away but you'd have a bash with BC, Caro knows the situation, you've won the Já¼ngere League anyway.”

“You think he'd go for that?”

“I think what we don't actually tell him…”

“Won't hurt him.”

“Exactly.”

Dad followed the ‘Centrum' signs and within a few minutes we were parked in the pile of scaffolding behind the Bahnhof.

“I remember this, the museum's just down that way.” I pointed away from the station. “Hey, maybe we could go take a look after lunch?”

“Maybe, that Neanderthal exhibition is still on.”

We did end up at the museum, Dad was pretty chuffed to finally get to the exhibition and I saw stuff in a different light than when we came with school the other week. For one I was more comfortable and Dad was able to explain some stuff better than the notes did. That was after lunch of course.

The great thing about Dinea is that you get to choose exactly what and how much you want — it can be a bit pricey but with a bit of practice you learn to play the system. I ended up with Wiener schnitzel and fries with a bowl of salad, Dad went for the prawn curry special — of course you have to have cake for dessert.

I did manage to steer Dad into the model shop — not that he took that much persuading. I've not got any new stuff for my collection in a while so I splashed out on some of the new releases. Dad is apparently a closet model railway buff, well he seemed to take quite an interest in all that stuff — I had to drag him out!

So anyway, by the time we'd visited prehistory and drunk another cuppa it was knocking on five thirty. We made our escape from the former capital and arrived home a little after six.

“I'm just going round to Con's.”

“Don't be late, I think you could go to school tomorrow.”

“Daa-ad.”

“Don't Dad me.”

“Whatever.”

I suppose there's not really any reason for me to be off school any longer, I might be a bit sore down below still but lets face it, most of the time at school we're sat on our bums. Let's go see Con; there must be some gossip to catch up on.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 27.10.2011

Weekend
Given that the soreness was more a nagging ache inside , and by wearing the short liners I use with baggies, the ride to school wasn't too bad. I could feel a bit of a tug getting on and off the Schauff but riding wasn't a problem in itself.

"You okay Gabs?" Steff checked again .

"Uh huh." I winced as I slid off the saddle.

"You gonna be okay for tomorrow?" Pia asked as we locked the bikes up.

"Tomorrow?"

"She's forgotten." Brid opined.

"Forgotten what?"

"Claudia's home? We're going to Koblenz?" Nena supplied.

"Tomorrow? I thought that was weeks away."

"It was - weeks ago." Anna giggled.

"Hey Gaby, you okay?" Max asked joining the throng.

"I guess I'll live but thanks for asking."

"Right, yeah er see you about."

His stop was short; he was off like a shot.

"Ah, true love." Connie cooed.

"Connie!"

The bell sounded which meant we needed to be somewhere other than the bike sheds.

Fr Dá¼rst started calling the register, "Anhauser?"

"Here."

"Bond?"

"Yes Miss."

"Eh, oh Gaby, I wasn't expecting to see you today, feeling better?"

"Yes, Miss."

"Okay, Braun?"

And so the pattern was set for the day.

"If we get the eight thirty we'll be in Koblenz for ten." Nena suggested.

"I'll have to check with Dad." I mentioned.

"Kay so we'll see you on the Express then."

Does she not listen?

Anna, Con and I turned off the bike trail into Dernau, sliding to a halt a minute or so later outside of Thesing's.

"Coming in?" Con enquired.

"Not for long, it's my turn to cook tonight."

"I'm going with Mum to her new father's class, there're some right hunks in this lot!"

"Anna Pilsen, you hussy!" Con giggled.

"Well, I'm only looking."

I bet that's what Nell Gwynn said.

"See you in the morning then." Con suggested.

"Yeah, nite Con, nite Gabs."

"Nite."

Anna scooted her bike into motion and headed for the long climb up to Chez Pilsen.

We parked our bikes and went through and up to the Thesing's apartment.

"Hi Gaby." Frau Thesing greeted me.

"Hi." I waved back.

"You stopping to eat?"

"Er not tonight, I'm cooking at home."

"Come on Gabs, I'll show you that picture." Con started to drag me towards her room.

"Er bye Frau Thesing."

"Bye Gaby."

The picture, or rather pictures were in the current edition of Stern, Germany's people watching bible under the headline ‘Wo ist Gabrielle?' The collection, other than one rather poor shot from outside the Dom in Munich were not of me I'm glad to say. Instead ‘I' have been ‘spotted' from Vienna to Berlin, in nightclubs and on beaches, out shopping and on horseback.

“Boy, you don't half get about Gabs.”

“That one must be at least two metres tall!” I pointed to the anonymous girl lounging on some Greek beach.

“They don't even look like you.”

“Should help keep the paparazzi off my tail.”

“Hey maybe we should send some real pictures of you in, anonymous like.”

“And just why would that be a good idea?”

“It'd be a bit of a laugh, I bet they wouldn't even recognise you.”

“Be just my luck they'd trace the envelope and be camped on the doorstep next day.”

“They pay a fee…”

“How much?” call me mercenary if you like.

“Five hundred E uros if it's published.”

Hmm, could be useful.

“We could get you all poshed up an' everything.” Con enthused.

“Leave it with me.” I could see a plan forming, a plan with Euros going into my bank account.

The sound of the local RTL evening news programme starting drifted from the living room.

“Sugar! I need to get dinner on.”

“Okay, you coming tomorrow?”

“Probably,” I gathered my stuff up, “I'll let you know later one way or the other.”

Ten minutes later I was dragging stuff out of cupboards and cursing the sharp shower that caught me half way home from the Thesing's place.

“What is it this week?” Jules asked.

“Toad in the Hole.”

She rolled her eyes, “I'll find the takeaway menu.”

“Cheeky moo, I only burnt it once!”

“You did a thorough job, we had three fire engines outside.”

“Yeah, well the oven was too hot.”

For those of you not au fait with the delicacy that is Toad in the Hole I guess you need some explanation. No amphibians are harmed in its production, the ‘toad' is actually English style sausages and the ‘hole' is Yorkshire pudding. You need hot fat to cook it and the first time I tried cooking it here in Dernau I got the oven too hot and instead of a golden brown pudding we ended up with a lump of charcoal and lots, I mean lots of smoke! Hey we all make mistakes.

“You need a hand?”

What's this? Jules offering to help?

“You could start the veg.”

“What're we having?”

“Thought we go traditional, peas and carrots with mash an' onion gravy.”

“Steady on Delia!”

My turn at eye rolling.

I started on the batter; you need to get plenty of air into the mixture for it to rise properly so I spent a couple of minutes wearing my arms out with a whisk. English sausages are not exactly in good supply in the Eiffel Mountains but the butcher in Rech makes his own wá¼rst, the pork and beef aren't bad as long as you get them unboiled — that just kills them. Oven on, oil in the baking tray, bit more beating and we'll be away.

“Dad told me about Ká¶ln.” Jules offered as I started placing the ‘bangers' into the batter, “sorry kiddo.”

“‘Snot your fault.”

“Yeah but like I've not exactly been helpful at times.”

“Jules, this would have happened regardless of what you did or didn't do.”

“Still, I'm supposed to look out for you.”

“I'm fifteen Jules, I'm a big boy well girl I guess now, I can look after myself.”

“If you say so, look, what I'm trying to say Gabs is that, well I am here for you you know. You putting that in the oven?”

I've always had a big sister, being the younger, older siblings are like a fixture from day one of your existence. Looking back, whilst I've ended up in some scrapes with and because of Jules, generally she has looked out for me. The leap from little bro to little sis has hardly been sudden and I guess the latest news won't really change things much — after all I've been ‘Gaby' almost full time for most of our time here in Germany, just over a year.

“Ta dah!” I announced thirty minutes later to a hungry father and bemused sister.

“What is it?” Dad enquired poking at the dish's contents, “ Looks like something out of Quatermass.”

“Sausage Toad!” Well okay so maybe the batter had risen rather a lot, the sausages no longer visible.

“Ah, I thought it looked kind of familiar.”

“At least she hasn't smoked the house out this time.” Jules noted.

The pair of them were winding me up, their plates were clean ten minutes later, the sausages and batter were cooked to perfection, the gravy could have done with some work but all in all I was quite proud of the result of my endeavours. We were tucking into our dessert of ice cream when Dad got my attention.

“I've scratched you from Sunday's race kiddo.”

“Da-ad.” I complained.

“Missing one or two races won't do you any harm, you've not been on a bike all week and the Doc did suggest no hard exercise for at least a couple of weeks.”

“I guess, what about Ron? You pulled her too?”

“No of course not, it might only be a chipper but it's still worth riding. I thought you could come and maybe give a bit of on course support. Take your bike, it's pretty flat, get some gentle riding in.”

“I guess. On the subject of going out, is it okay to go with the girls tomorrow? Nena's sister is home, they're taking her to Koblenz.”

“That the one with MS?” Jules offered.

“Yeah.” I agreed.

“Oh I remember now, you ended up with blue hair last year when she was home.”

Cheers for reminding everyone Jules.

“It was only temporary.”

“Girls!” Dad interrupted before me an' Goth Gurl got into too much of a squabble. “Jules, stop winding your sister up and Drew, act your age not shoe size.”

“But Dad…” we both chorused.

Well we both ended up chuckling like mad men, er women at that.

“Jules, dishes, Drew, try to stay out of trouble tomorrow?”

Jules mumbled to herself as she collected the dirty pots.

“I will, oh cool, thanks Dad!”

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 28.10.2011

The Trouble With Claudia...

"Guh." I managed to croak out when my alarm went off.

Why do we have to get such an early train? I dragged myself out of my nest and into the shower - a sure way to wake myself up. Twenty minutes later I was stood in front of the mirror examining myself - for a boy I make a damned good girl, but that's no longer really the case is it? Whilst there's barely an ounce of fat on me, what there is forms some er very female curves. That's just it, apart from Herbert and his pals I look like a girl already ; tuck them out of the way, we are talking chipolata rather than Cumberland here, and voila, one erm foxy girl - well she would be if she wasn't me. No , that's not right ; she's still foxy even if she is me.

"Gab are you getting up or what?" the Goth like one demanded from below.

"Be down in a sec."

I took one last look at my reflection before starting to dress.

It's June, the weather can still be a bit unpredictable so I decided to go with the shorts over tights look that seems to be garnering some popularity. Vest top, cardi and trainers completed my look for the day - there would be no mistaking me for a boy today!

Dad just did the eye-rolling bit when I hit the kitchen.

"When you go girl, you really go!" Jules opined.

"I don't suppose you meant that in a good way."

"I was just saying."

"Hut hum!" Dad cleared his throat.

"Sorry, Dad, I'll ring if we're gonna be late."

"You have got your phone I suppose?"

I extracted my handy from my shorts pocket and waved it for a visual confirmation.

"One handy, charged and ready to er – ring."

"Remember what I said, try to stay out of trouble."

"Yes Dad."

There was no point in riding to the station so I slung my mini rucksack on my back and started off to meet Con to walk to the Bahnhof.

I felt quite exposed, the shorts really are quite short and even with the hose fully covering my legs - well I still felt half naked. This from the girl known to wear a bikini and stupidly short skirts! I was still debating going home to change when I reached the bakery; Con and Anna were outside waiting on me and dressed not dissimilarly.

"You take your girl pill last night?" Anna joked.

"Might have." I feigned haughtiness.

"Wish I'd known, I 'd've worn trousers, I can't compare with madoms legs." Con stated half seriously.

"Give over, come on or we'll miss the Express."

"Oh sugar is that the time? " Anna added.

Our favourite conductor, Marlene , held the Express long enough for the three of us to run the last fifty metres to the platform.

“Th, thanks Marlene.” I offered.

“Couldn't have three of my regulars missing the train — not when I've got the rest of the mad girls already on board.”

“Which?” Anna puffed out.

Marlene pointed towards the front of the railcar.

The others that is to say: Brid, Claudia, Nena, Pia and Steff had two sets of facing seats staked out and the three of us poured into the remaining vacant seats.

“Morning everyone.”

“Geez Gab, can you not show the rest of us up.” Pia moaned.

“What'd I do now ?”

“I tell you Claud, she doesn't even realise she's doing it.” Nena stage whispered to her sister.

“Doing what?” this is getting exasperating.

“You just keep doing it.” Claudia suggested.

If I knew what ‘it' was I might know if it was a good or bad thing, this ‘it'.

“So how's erm, Bad Herrenalb?”

“Boring!”

“So she came to annoy us.” Her sister joshed.

The last time I saw Claudia she looked to be a sickly twelve year old, if anything she looks even more fragile today.

“Nena was saying that you've been ill.” Claud suggested.

“Some er, plumbing issues.” I allowed.

“At least that's one thing I don't have to worry about,” She grinned, “none of my kit works.”

Wish mine didn't.

“So what's the plan Nen?” Anna enquired.

“Thought we'd do the tourist bit, Claud's never been to the Eck then hit the old town.”

“You must see the Eck.” Steff giggled.

“Hey, so I'm a tourist!” Claudia pretended to be offended.

“We were just talking about it before you got on,” Brid mentioned, “I thought we could use the Bummelbahn up to the river front.”

“Sounds like fun.” Con put in.

“Any of you know whether it takes wheelchairs?”

I nearly asked why but spotted a vacant example parked in the pram space.

“Probably if it's folded.”

“That's what I thought.” Pia agreed.

“I'm not a complete invalid, I've got my sticks.”

“And you know what Mama said.” Nena stated.

“I know, I'm not to get too excited or walk too much.”

“She actually said ‘walk'.”

“Give us a break, sis, it's bad enough having to use the damned chair, a short walk won't kill me.”

The look on Nena's face suggested that that might well not be quite true. My little ‘problem' suddenly seemed to be rather inconsequential.

‘Die ná¤chste halt ist Remagen, der zug endet hier.'

“That was quick.” Con noted.

“You girls need a hand?” Marlene enquired.

“If you can turn the chair round please.” Claudia requested.

It was only a matter of like three metres, Nena and Anna pretty much carried her to the chair, Mar navigated the four-wheeled monster up onto the platform.

“I'll ask Theo in the office to hold the down train for you.”

“Thanks Mar.” Nena called behind as we split up, most of us taking the stairs whilst Anna and Nena pushed Claudia to the lift. We clattered down the stairs, charged along the tunnel and breathlessly climbed up onto Gleis 1 where the Rhein Express was already sat waiting.

The five of us skidded to a halt at the first door where the conductor was standing.

“There's a wheelchair coming.” Stef puffed out.

You could see the guy's mood drop some, and on one level I can sympathise.

“Do we need the ramp?”

“I don't think so, we can lift her down.” Con suggested.

I spotted the lift rising up to the platform; they might have been quicker using the ramp!

“Here they come.”

The guy's expression improved when he saw the type of chariot that hurtled along the platform towards us. The drop into the carriage is like fifteen centimetres, not a lot but you need to lift any wheeled thing in or out. The wheeled division arrived with a bunch of heavy breathing.

“Push her to the edge, I'm not supposed to do this.” He stepped on board the train then grabbed the chair complete with cargo and heaved it on board.

“I could get used to that.” Claudia chuckled.

The rest of us got onboard, before we had the chair braked in the bike area the doors slammed shut and the guards whistle signalled that we were clear for departure.

“Geez, that was intense.” Nena stated.

“Great fun.” Claud grinned.

“Hey, it wasn't you doing the chasing around.” Anna mentioned.

The train was quite full, there were seats upstairs but it seemed a bit off to dump Claud with the geriatric Trekkers and two empty pushchairs so we all found perches in the bike park. With a constant stream of lavatory visitors and train wanderers any kind of conversation was at best broken but with it being the Express there were only three stops before Koblenz. He might have looked pretty grumpy but the conductor chap took charge of getting Claudia off his train — another manly lift and the job was done.

We waited outside the station for the Bummel to arrive, the weather warming up compared to back in the Ahrtal at least. I reckon we could've walked best part of the way to the Eck in the time we waited there but eventually the green and yellow land train puttered along from the town. When I saw the price I wish we had walked! Five euros each! Whatever.

There were only a couple of other passengers so we had a whole ‘carriage' to ourselves for the fifteen minute crawl through the town and out to the Rhein waterfront. Claudia's chair had been no issue and despite the price I enjoyed the ride as much as anyone else.

“So where is this famous point?” Claud enquired.

“Not far,“ Brid supplied, “maybe ten minutes walk.”

This bit of riverfront has been turned over to tourists for over a hundred years so we dodged our way between ‘real' tourists from the endless stream of coaches, at least four KD  © offices, a couple of souvenir shops and assorted food and drink emporia.

“Ta da!” Nena exclaimed when we reached the back of the monument that forms the centrepiece of the Deutches Eck.

“What am I looking at?” a slightly perplexed wheelchair occupant asked.

“The Deutches Eck.” Pia supplied.

“Come on, you can see it better from the front.” I pointed out.

To be honest I reckon most visitors are under whelmed, the monument itself, whilst impressive is typically stark Prussian in style and unless you can get up to the top of it you can't really see the green waters of the Mosel and the brown Rhein H2O meeting. As you might guess Claudia's current health prevented her making the climb to the top although we did manage to get her part way up.

“I fancy an Eis.” Anna told us.

“I'll get them.” Claudia offered.

“In that case mine's a coconut and pistachio.”

The biggest problem I have with the ice cream bars is the huge choice on offer, often over twenty flavours. I've tried all sorts of combinations but to save excessive deliberation I tend to have C & P as default choice. We found a couple of benches and settled down to eating our frozen food.

“So,” Claudia started between licks, “where next? Someone mentioned the old town?”

“There're some cool shops around there.” Pia noted.

“We can walk from here.” Steff added.

I'm glad I put my runners on.

A few minutes later we were headed into Koblenz old town, a warren of little streets amongst which the town museum, Rathaus and principal town squares can be found along with the aforementioned shops. We don't very often get up this end of town on our visits, all the big department stores and trendy boutiques are a way down the other end. There are more picturesque places, fancier stores even but this bit of Koblenz is just, well comfortable.

 © Ká¶ln Dá¼sseldorf Line, the biggest operator of passenger carrying riverboats on the Rhein/Mosel.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 01.11.2011

The Truth

We took turns pushing Claudia, she's not strong enough to do it herself which clearly frustrates her.

"Let's look in here." Anna suggested, here being a shop selling all sorts of weird and wonderful stuff - well weird anyhow!

Whilst it was a reasonable sized shop, seven teens and a wheelchair soon gummed it up.

"Maybe we should split up for a bit." Steff suggested.

"We can meet up in the square for lunch." Brid offered.

"Works for me." Claud agreed.

So that was decided.

"Who's staying with me an' Claud?" Anna asked.

"Gaby?" Claud prompted.

"Guess so."

"That's settled then." Nena stated,

"You not staying?"

"Nah, you three'll be fine, see you in like two hours?"

"Sounds good." her sister allowed.

Cheung! The rest of them disappeared in the blink of an eye.

"Eh?"

"Come on Gabs, let's look over there, I can see a nice frock." Claudia started to move her chair.

"Ooh, pretties." Anna crowed.

"You're mad you." I noted.

"And you're not?"

"Not like you."

"Come on you two, time's a wasting!"

Well I managed to avoid any kind of repeat of Mayen last year, well okay I did try on a dress at Anna's prompting - luckily it wasn't a particularly good fit, it was far too fussy for my taste. We moved on from that first shop, drifting in and out of everywhere from Jaeger (how do people afford to shop in there?) to Tchibo that I think Gran would like.

"I still think you should have got those earrings Gab." Anna opined.

The ohrring in question were in my opinion awful! Big, gaudy, heavy and expensive, they might suit some sort of chavette, me, I'm more a none or plain kind of guy.

When I didn't reply she pulled in the cavalry, "what do you reckon Claud?"

"I think I'm with Gaby on this one."

Thank you Claud.

"Humph!"

We were a bit early for meeting the others but we were done, or rather Claudia was so we parked ourselves by the fountain to wait.

"You should see this place at Weihnachts, they had a big slide thing over there," I pointed across the square, "all the lights and stuff."

"All the streets are decorated." Anna added.

"We went to a market in Freiburg, wasn't that exciting." Claud noted.

"There was this stall selling half metre wurst, Pia couldn't eat it all."

"Yeah and Brid dripped ketchup down her cleavage."

Remembering the episode had Anna and me in stitches. The more Brid tried to clean herself up the more the stuff spread - we ended up getting her a new bra and blouse from Coats an' 'ats.

"Sounds like fun." Claudia grinned.

"You should come this year, we could all hit a couple of different ones, there are loads round here." I suggested.

"Have to see." Claudia replied, maybe I missed something but the twinkle seemed to have left her eyes.

"There they are." Steff called out.

"Lightweights!" Brid added.

The others soon joined us.

"What are you guys grinning at?" Pia enquired.

Anna filled them in, “we were just telling Claud about last year's Weihnachtsmarkt."

"Don't remind me." Brid grimaced.

"I was just saying that Claud should come up this year and do a couple of markets with us."

"Great idea." Con agreed with a nod.

"Might not be so easy with the chair." Nena noted flatly.

"Nah, there were loads of wheelchairs about, it wouldn't be a problem." I blithely went on.

"Where are we eating?" Steff asked.

"Your call Claud."

"I'm not that hungry."

"Come on sis, you gotta eat." Nena stipulated.

"Maccy D's?*" Brid offered.

"Pizza Hut." was Pia's suggestion.

"How about Dinea, we can get what we want then." I put my two cents worth forward.

"It's a bit of a walk." Anna moaned.

"We've got to go that way anyhow." I pointed out.

"Claud?" Nena prompted.

"Sounds good to me."

"We can look in the shops on the way." Connie mentioned

"There's a dress I want to try in Pimkie á’ ." Brid added.

We collected ourselves and started heading down the main shopping street, we hadn't gone far when Pia pulled me into ' Love Secrets ' - a lingerie store whose window displays tended towards the erm, erotic.

"What we doing here?"

"There's something I need to tell you."

"And you have to do it in here?"

"It was handy."

"So?"

"You mustn't say anything right?"

"If you say so."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and wear a bra, okay?"

"It's about Claudia."

"What about her?"

"She's not very well."

"I know that."

"No I mean really not very well, the doctors don't think she'll see Christmas."

"Shit! How do you know?"

"Nena told me last night, Claud doesn't want everyone to know."

Talk about feel like a heel, there I was going on about the Weihnachtsmarkt and how she should come up and do the markets with us and she's, she's probably not gonna be here. And what about Nena, god this is shitty.

"But there's drugs and stuff isn't there?"

"Not anymore Gab, it could be a cold or anything, her immune system is like kaput."

Next thing I know we're hugging and my eyes are leaking. I'm sure we were getting some strange looks, stood there between rows of PVC underwear and fancy dress.

“Who else?”

“Just me and now you.”

“So why tell me, now and not the others?”

“I didn't want to see you dig yourself a hole you couldn't climb from, Steff and I'm sure Anna have a good idea, they have known her longest.”

I thought I'd got some problems but some faulty plumbing whilst life altering in no way compares to this. I mean, when I heard about Helen I was devastated, it was so unexpected but to have something like this hanging over your head, for like months maybe. I know we all die sooner or later but Claudia is only like eighteen and she's spent pretty much all that time ill, life's so unfair.

My handy trilled at me and I fished it out of my bag.

'Wre r u is P with u?'

"It's from Steff, they missed us."

"I guess we'd best catch up, you okay Gab?"

I just stopped myself from using my usual 'I'll live' reply, I might but Claud won't. "Yeah, we'd best get cleaned up a bit, your mascara has run."

I tapped out a reply to Steff, ' With P, catch u in Pim, G.'

We quickly repaired makeup, so okay I do wear a bit, then headed into the stream of Saturday shoppers.

"Where did you pair get to?" Anna demanded when we finally caught up with them outside of the Karstadt.

"I spotted some hose for the Con." Pia offered.

"You look like you've been crying Gab." Con noted.

"I got some grit in my eye."

I doubt that she, or the others bought the explanation but they let it go.

Of course now it was difficult to look either of the Fischer girls in the eye, the problem is mine but I guess all too common in this kind of situation.

“Come on, I'm hungry.” Brid grumbled.

We managed to avoid any side excursions on our way to the restaurant, the lift pretty much saw to that, we ploughed into the self-service eatery and descended on the food like locusts! Despite the news about Claud suppressing my appetite some I still ended up with a plate bearing a goodly and varied selection of meat and veg and a um piece of strawberry torte. I'm a growing bo-irl!

The others, despite some earlier moaning over the venue, joined me at a super large table bearing pizza, frikadel, schnitzel, battered fish — well a wide variety of nosh.

“You sure you've got enough there Gab?” Claudia enquired eyeing up my plate.

“I think she's off her food Claud, it's usually twice that.” Nena giggled.

“I need the carbs and calories.” I riposted.

Claud shook her head, “I don't know where you put it.”

“Hollow legs?”

The conversation bounced about for the duration of the meal, my mood lightening as the minutes passed and I realised that Claudia and her sister were making the most of things, there wouldn't be many more days like this for them, together with friends. No, they were, whilst not ignoring the situation, trying to make today a good memory.

“Hey, we should go to the cinema.” Con suggested as we began clearing up.

“I bet there's nothing worth seeing on.” Pia opined.

“I can't remember the last time I went to the pictures.” Claudia noted.

“But you see films?” Nena asked her sibling.

“Of course, the San has a theatre but it's hardly like going to a real cinema, no popcorn or cheesy adverts.”

“That settles it then,” I stated, “next stop, the cinema!”

* As the girls generally eat proper meals at home the chance to slum it whilst out is the main attraction of this type of emporium. Generally seen as a snack destination rather than main meal.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 04.11.2011

Watching Brief

I think I've mentioned going to the cinema in Koblenz before, it's hardly a modern Cineplex like the one at Meadowhell back in Blighty but they do have the latest releases, which for us in Germany this week means Star Wars Episode III and Madagascar.

“So which are we seeing?” Brid queried.

“Madagascar looks a bit wet.” Steff offered.

“I think it looks cute.” Con noted.

“Claud?” I asked.

“I vote Star Wars.”

“Good by me.” Anna agreed.

“Wars.” Pia voted.

“Looks like it's Space Opera then.” I opined.

There wasn't any dissent at that conclusion so we joined the queue for tickets.

I'm sure a lot of you have seen this particular bit of cinematography so I won't bore you with the plot or anything. I quite enjoyed it, I'm not sure everyone did, I guess you're either a fan or not, I think Claudia mostly enjoyed the cinema experience — the film was secondary. It was gone five when we emerged into the light again.

“If we hurry we should catch the quarter to train.” Anna suggested.

“What time's the one after?” I enquired of our mobile timetable.

“Twelve past, why?”

I looked wistfully at the still open model shop across the road, “I um, I'll follow on.”

“'S'alright Gabs, I'll wait for you.” Con offered.

“You don't have to.”

“See you guys later yeah?” Claud queried.

“We might even make the quarter to.” I mentioned dragging Con across the road.

Once inside the Spielwaren I headed for the car cabinets.

“Gaby Bond, you are so predictable.”

“I can't help it.”

“That one looks nice.” She pointed to a ghastly mauve model with ‘Milka' emblazoned on the side.

“If you say so.” I allowed.

“What are you looking for?”

“There's a new One series Bimmer model.”

“Great.”

You can kinda tell when someone's not really interested.

“A ha!” I spotted the tiny work of art in the cabinet, I made my purchase and we departed for the Bahnhof some ten minutes walk away. There was no way we'd get the same train as the others, it was already twenty to but we hustled along anyhow.

“Gabeee!”

I looked round to see who was calling me.

“Over here.”

“On Gleis 2.” Con supplied.

We both waved, “ W hat are you doing there still?” I called over.

“It's running late.” Steff shouted back.

Of course neither Con nor I had looked at the board beyond checking which platform the next train was due out of. At that moment the delayed northbound express arrived.

“Come on , Gab!” Con took the lead almost dragging me off my feet as she took off for the stairs.

We clattered down into the underpass dodging other station users, did one of those cartoon cornering manoeuvres then hit the stairs up to platforms two and three at full tilt. Con stumbled a bit as forward momentum and upward movement had a conflict, luckily no one was trying to descend! I could see the others further along the platform, maybe too far to get there at this pace.

“On here.” I puffed to Con.

“Wha?”

My turn to do the dragging, I headed towards the nearest door and slapped the open button. An agonising moment later it shushed open and we dropped into the carriage. We had barely skidded to a halt before it closed and the guard blew his, or I guess her, whistle.

“Made it.”

“I wouldn't want to do that too often.” Con mentioned.

“Come on, let's find the others.”

The train was fairly full but not busy if that makes sense. We were about three carriage lengths from where I had seen the others boarding, it's always a weird sensation walking along a moving train, more so if you are looking outside. This is the stopping train so it was already slowing for the next halt at Koblenz Neuendorf when we transferred carriages.

With people getting on and off it was easier to go to the top deck to move forward, by the time we were moving again we were only a single carriage from our destination. We continued along the top then dropped down to where the others could clearly be heard chatting.

“You made it.” Anna grinned.

“We weren't sure you got round.” Claud told us.

“Didn't you see us getting on?” Con asked.

“Nope.” Brid supplied.

“You get whatever it was , Gab?” Steff enquired.

I reached into my tiny backpack and pulled out my prize.

“Ta da!”

“That it?” Pia pulled a face.

‘Die ná¤chste halt ist Weissenturm.'

“It's only just been released.” I stated defensively.

“Gab collects toy cars Claud.” Nena advised her sister.

“They aren't toys,” I nearly snapped, “they're collectors models.”

“Keep your hair on , Gabs.” Anna soothed.

“I'll be back in a mo, I need a wee.”

“You okay , Gab?” Steff asked.

“Yeah, be right back.”

The toilet was only at the other end of the carriage and thankfully empty. I dragged my shorts and tights down and was soon sat on the throne staring at the pad in my knickers. My urgent need to visit the convenience was nothing to do with my bladder; no it was a sensation of something slowly running along my skin down below. The red on the pad confirmed my fears; the running about to get on the train has reopened the tear inside. Sugar!

I cleaned up and fitted a new towel before finishing up and returning to the others.

“Everything alright?” Con enquired with some concern when I rejoined the girls.

“Yeah, just a pressing need.”

‘Die ná¤chste halt ist Andernach'

“So you racing tomorrow , Gab?” Brid queried.

“Nah, Dad pulled me, I'm just going to support Roni.”

“Her own cheerleader!” Anna chortled.

“I've had that.”

“Cheerleaders?” Claud raised a brow.

“Yeah, back in England.”

“Tell us more.” Pia pressed.

“Well you know I was on the school cheer squad….”

And so I spent the remainder of the ride to Remagen telling them how Mad and co supported me at some of the races back in my youth.

“You have everything?” Dad asked.

“Think so.”

“ Let's get a move on then.”

I grabbed my bags and headed out into the drizzle that has greeted us this morning. My training bike was already in the bus; I lobbed my stuff inside before climbing into the cab. Dad finished locking up and joined me.

“So where are we going?” I asked when we joined the autobahn a short few minutes later.

“Collect Ron first.”

“Duh, after that.”

“Julich, it's out towards Aachen. You okay?”

“Bit tired I guess.”

“You could have stayed at home.”

“I should've come back from the barbeque earlier.”

I didn't tell you about that did I, the Fischer's had a charred food party after we got back from Koblenz, not just our group of course but some of their friends and neighbours too. I managed to stay clear of the punch but I ended up getting a lift home with Con ; Herr Thesing fetched us, at about ten thirty. It was a good party, of course us girls (?) ended up arsing around a bit, we dressed Claudia in the outfit Nena wore at the dance the other week which had everyone in stitches.

“This weather's a bit pants.”

“Yeah, the forecast is better later.” Dad noted.

I hope so; I have a plan, a bit of a gag lined up.

“Everything okay, you know?”

It is kinda embarrassing talking about this stuff.

“Yeah, much better.” At least there wasn't any more blood in my knickers this morning.

“If you want me to pick you up later, call okay, don't slog it out, we want you fixed eh?”

Indeed, I hate being ill at the best of times, this might all be a bit more er, unusual than a cold but still, same rules apply.

“I've got my Handy.”

They were playing The Beatles on the radio, I don't know the name of the track, something about holes in the road, Dad was tapping the steering wheel and I found myself humming along. What is it about The Beatles music? Like everyone sort of knows the tunes if not the words!

Roni was waiting when we got to Mettmann, she was on her own this morning, Angela and her Dad are visiting some relatives in Má¼nster.

“You okay , Drew?” my teammate asked when we had everything stowed.

“Been better.”

“I bet! You didn't half have everyone worried.”

“Sorry ‘bout that.”

“What are you sorry for? You couldn't help it. You're not racing today are you?”

“No she's not!” Dad stated from the front.

I'll have to remember that he can hear from the front.

“You've brought a bike though?”

“I'm gonna take a turn round the course, give you a shout maybe.”

And maybe a bit more besides.

It was motorway almost all the way from Roni's place to Julich, down to Dusseldorf, over the river then the forty-four towards Aachen. It only took an hour and the HQ at the high school was easy enough to find, the weather at least was drying up some.

Talk about strange, everyone around is preparing for a couple of hours of graft, and I'm outside of all that today. I helped Dad with Roni's bike while she signed on and stuff, I'm already changed, just need my shoes, helmet and rucky. The rucksack is essential as it has some snap, my camera and er other stuff in there.

“Glá¼ck! Give ‘em some from me , ” I gave Ron a hug, “see you on the course.”

“Take care , Drew.”

“I'll be at the top of the circuit , Drew.” Dad informed me.

“'Kay, tschuss!”

I pushed off and headed off for the circuit, I know where I want to get to.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 06.11.2011

A Cheering Thought

Being a ‘fish and chipper'*, the event uses a smallish circuit of about 26km covered four times with about another ten getting to and from the circuit from Julich. To get to my spot I can ride ten kilometres across the middle of the circuit directly to Titz — no I'm not making it up, that's the name of the village, honest. Maybe twenty minutes if I get my head down, that means I should get there as the race starts which should give me a clear twenty minutes to get organised.

The countryside hereabouts is pretty flat apart from the immense spoil heaps and huge brown coal excavations that caused them, my route barely moved from level. I've opted to wear summer weight cycling tights, I'm glad I have as the roads are still a bit damp and its spraying up my legs a bit despite putting my Race Bladesâ„¢ on. I was researching this with Goggle Earth last night, and the bus shelter was exactly where it should be, a semi enclosed wooden shed type thing just outside the village.

Ten o'clock, they'll be starting now so I've got to get a move on. I stowed my bike and started to strip off, I took the precaution of putting my cycling kit over my other stuff before I left home. Trainers on, pull the skirt up, fix my hair, check the time — quarter past, pull out the accessories, a couple of quick stretches, ready. From my hidey-hole you can see the road for about a kilometre so I'd have plenty of warning of their approach.

‘Goodness knows what Drew's got in that bag.' Roni thought to herself as her diminutive friend set off for the circuit, especially as his Dad would be parked on the course.

She lined up with the smallish field, as usual there were a couple of familiar faces but the majority of the field were definitely smaller beer to the point of staring at her in her Apollinaris strip, their club jersey's looking bland and distinctly amateur: their problem not hers. For the first time since signing with the team Ron was starting a race alone, which was a bit weird, but the Direktor was still here and Drew would be on the circuit too.

A starting pistol set them off and they peeled away from the school forecourt, the race neutralized until they left the town proper. Ron stayed out of trouble towards the front of the peloton , the pace decidedly steady until they reached the circuit proper. One of the local lads had a go off the front but in true amateur style even his teammates worked to pull him back!

The other more experienced riders kept out of the way, no doubt harbouring similar thoughts to Ron, let them get it out of their system then blow them out.

“Stay with it Ron!” Dave encouraged from the roadside — yeah this level of event didn't run to following cars, a local shop is supplying neutral service.

The road slipped under the motorway and she suppressed a giggle at the sign for the next village — I mean Titz, it's got to be a wind up!

There they are, the flashing light of the lead car tracing their progress until I could see riders behind, here goes nothing. I stepped out to the roadside.

“Go ‘pollinaris, go ‘pollinaris, you're the ones, Roni's the one, the queen today, go Roni, yay!”

With a final flourish I leaped in a star jump shaking my poms as the bunch perambulated past. I watched them head towards the huge mound that the circuit skirts, once out of sight I returned to ‘my' hut. Yeah, I felt like a right prune out there but the look on some of their faces was more than worth it!

I pulled my trackie top back on, they won't be back for forty minutes and there's no point in getting cold. Well cold is of course subjective, the sun's trying to break out but it's hardly t shirt weather even so. Of course the inspiration for this morning's antics came from telling the girls about my cheer squad back in the UK, I dunno why but I thought it'd be a bit of a lark.

So here I am in full Foresters** uniform, my hair in pigtails with an Apollinaris shirt pulled over the top — yup I look a right dork. The wait wasn't too bad, a flask of coffee and a pack of Choko Liebnitzâ„¢ biscuits occupied my time.

“Go ‘pollinaris, go ‘pollinaris, you're the ones,” what the heck? “Roni's the one, the queen today, go Roni, yay!”

She had to shake her head to convince herself she really had just seen and heard an American style cheerleader at the side of the road, cheering her and wearing an Apollinaris shirt — nah, couldn't be, that was most definitely a girly girl, pig tails and all. There were some murmurings around the bunch as they headed towards the looming mountain ahead.

They were nearly around the initial lap when the first serious move was made; a tall lad Ron recognised from the trip to Aachen at the beginning of the year took a bit of a flier. Well it was getting a bit pedestrian; she snicked into a higher sprocket and accelerated in pursuit.

‘Be here soon.' I told myself checking the time on my cycle computer, ‘ W onder if anyone's made a move yet?'

I got up and did a few stretches again before slipping off my trackie and picking up my pom poms.

‘What was it now? Oh yeah, do do Ron Ron, go Apollinaris, dig in Ron!'

I ran through my chant a couple more times before I spotted the flashing lights again announcing the race's return to Titz.

‘Do do Ron Ron, go Apollinaris, dig in Ron!'

Ron grinned to herself at the little blonde's antics, it was definitely Drew — go girl, go!

“Was that real?” one of her breakaway companions asked no one in particular.

“Looked real to me,” another lad confirmed, “not only that, she was damn cute too.”

“Not many.” A third added.

In all they numbered eight, Ron and seven lads, four of which she half recognised but they all seemed to know each other, she was the outsider, the outsider with maybe an ace in the hole. The pace was faster now, almost five K faster, the bulk of the race now scattered to the winds behind them.

‘Hmm, I wonder.'

Dave realised the second time Roni passed him that he hadn't seen Drew yet, surely he'd have at least give him a shout? There had been a couple of groups of riders go past, maybe Drew had tagged onto one of those and not seen him? If there was anything up he'd call wouldn't he?

The plan was to see Ron through on the next lap then head counter clockwise around the circuit back towards the finish, to that end Drew started organising everything for a quick change and getaway. A last cup of coffee emptied the flask, the final couple of biscuits allowed the packet to become the property of Titz refuse disposal, the ride back would be with less weight and bulk.

Ten minutes until they are due again.

‘Lets see now, Go for it Ron, you're the one, Apollinaris, one, one, won!' it seemed like it would work, he ran through the moves a couple of times before jigging about to keep warm as he waited.

“Nice one , Ron, keep it up girl!” Dave shouted to his squad's representative as the leaders slipped by.

‘Come on Ron, don't just sit there, take it to ‘em.' He thought to himself as the rest of the race started to filter past.

‘I hope he's still there, wish I could tell him my plan.' Ron thought to herself as they headed towards the bridge under the autobahn.

‘Here goes.' Drew whispered under his breath as the lights once more indicated the race's imminent arrival.

‘Go for it Ron, you're the one, Apollinaris, one, one, won!' I sang out shaking my thang in the direction of the riders.

“Talk about a babe!”

“Wonder who she's cheering?”

“She's certainly cheered me up.”

“Look at those tits!”

The break were to a man concentrating on the cute blonde jigging her stuff at the roadside. To a man but not a woman! Ron took her chance and put the hammer down taking over twenty metres before her fellow breakaways noticed. She had been taking notes on tactics all season, usually taking her cue from her unwitting accomplice back in Titz.

She wasn't a great triallist but she was improving, this was a chance to see how well she could do the job. Head down, hands on the drops, she concentrated on a steady cadence and on getting the speed into the forties and keeping it there. Behind her was apathy, after all it's only a girl, she'll never stay away so why bother chasing.

Drew watched the rest of the race go by before starting on the quick-change element back to cyclist. Off with the skirt, tights on, undo hair, shoes on, stuff everything in the rucky, helmet, ready.

I slipped onto the road and after clipping in stood on the pedals to get up to speed. I hadn't noticed earlier but there was a bit of breeze blowing across the flatlands, enough to get me hoping that the motorway embankment would give some shelter! Beyond the motorway the road turned enough to put the wind on my rear quarter and I relished the extra bit of speed it afforded. I was lost in thought as I approached the next village.

“Drew!”

Screeechhhhh!

I slammed the brakes on and did a quick loop back to where Dad was standing .

“Geez, kiddo, no wonder I'm always changing brake blocks.”

“I don't usually use them.” I countered.

“Where've you been? I thought you were riding round?”

I gave a shrug, “I found a bus shelter a couple of K back, thought I'd camp out for a bit.”

“Not exactly exciting is it?”

“Dunno, Ron's in the break.”

“I guess she's fairly handy in a sprint,” Dad conceded, “you want a lift back, I doubt you'll get to the finish before them from here.”

“'Kay.”

Dad stowed my steed while I put my trainers back on, we'd barely finished when the lead car hove into view.

“Looks like there's an escapee.” Dad noted.

“It's Ron! come on Ron, dig dig!”

“Hold it together Ron!”

Our girl zipped through, a look of grim determination on her face although I swear she winked at me. The chasers, well followers , were best part of a minute down, we waited for them to pass before jumping in the van. We pulled onto the road and set off in the same direction, turning onto the motorway slip just before we caught them.

We only went one junction; at a high rate of knots it has to be said, then off and into Julich once more. The road was already closed for the finish so we couldn't get in the car park; Dad popped the van onto the pavement. We quickly locked up and jogged down to where a reasonable little crowd awaited the finale, unaware of what was going on out on the road.

Ron glanced at her comp, four to go if they were accurate, she'd risked a quick glance behind on the long left hander past the man made mountain, the chasers were still coming, there could be no relaxing. The turn off the circuit was a tight right-hander that spat her out onto the almost straight approach to the finish. The chasers crossed the overpass as the lead car went under, maybe four hundred metres in it.

“Do you reckon she'll make it?”

“Even if she doesn't she's given it a fair shot.” Dad allowed.

“Car's coming.”

Everyone turned their attention up the road towards the approaching lead vehicle. You couldn't see any riders yet then I spotted a bunch further behind the car than you'd expect.

“Looks like they caught her.” Dad sighed.

“Yeah,” I agreed watching as the car pulled off the road, “no they haven't!”

There, ploughing a solitary furrow along the road was Ron.

“Keep it going Ron!” Dad hissed.

“Come on Ron!” I shouted towards her.

“What're you doing girl? Don't sit up now!”

Ron wasn't sitting up, far from it; she straightened her jersey and came at us with renewed energy. Behind her the lads were winding up for the sprint but it was too little too late. With a last look behind Ron sat up and punched the air in delight crossing the line with a good ten metres to spare.

“Yay!!

The partisan crowd hadn't been silent of course, it felt strange to be on this side of things, shouting to encourage ‘your' rider, the cheering is just a wall of noise. We caught up with Ron a little beyond the finish area slumped over her bars.

“You okay, girl?” Dad asked as he draped a jacket around her.

“Gott that was hard.” She puffed.

“Go Apollinaris?”

*A local event, not part of any important series. The name derives from the custom in the UK, before cash prizes were allowed, of getting local businesses to sponsor the events, often with vouchers for their business.

** In case you've forgotten, that's the Warsop College cheerleading squad.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 08.11.2011

Home Alone

For once I'm properly organised, not just with the Foresters stuff but a change of non bike stuff for afterwards too. Let's face it, I'm not known for my organisation so I've surprised myself, anyhow I grabbed my kitbag and headed to the changing rooms.

"I wonder who that girl was?" one voice asked.

"The one who was riding?"

"Well duh, don't you read Radsport? We just got beat by the best junior girl in the country."

"That was her?" another voice joined in, "what's she slumming round here for?"

"I think she lives around Dussel somewhere."

"That wasn't who I meant, the one in the skimpy outfit, far end of the course."

"She had some right knockers on her."

I do not! Well I presume it's me they are talking about.

"You reckon she's someone's sister or girlfriend?"

"Not mine worse luck, wouldn't mind some of that."

I pulled the chain and headed out to the changing room proper, I'd already stripped out of the cheerleading stuff, I mean that would be a dead giveaway in the boys changing room.

"Heya."

"You see that cute blonde?"

"Just after the autobahn?"

"Yeah."

"Who could miss her, it was the right place too, and the village is called Titz right?"

Everyone in the changing room laughed at that and I've moved any suspicion away from me - I hope. The cheek of it though, saying I've got big boobs, I thought we settled that the other week.

"You're famous Ron."

"Famous? What do you mean?"

"Some of the guys in there," I indicated the 'Herren' changing room, "they recognised you, there's a bit in Radsport about the Jungere series this week."

"I saw it, but I've not read it yet."

"I've not even seen this week's." I admitted.

We dropped our bags back at the van and headed towards the hall where the HQ was sited.

"Give us your number; I'll get your licence."

"Cheers Drew." she handed me the bit of PVC and I set off for the Kontrolle.

"Forty nine." I offered, handing the woman behind the table the number.

"Ooh our winner, well done Veronike." she stated looking up at me.

"It wasn't," 'me.' I ended to myself.

I was cut off, "bout time some of these lads saw what the fairer sex can do eh?"

"Er yeah."

I turned on my heel, my very boyish heel and headed back into the hall...

"There you are , kiddo." Dad noted.

"Just fetching Ron's licence." I brandished the bit of plastic.

"Thanks."

A screech of the PA system quietened the room and attention turned to the stage about which everyone was gathered. There was the usual thanking of marshals, officials and sponsors before they got to the actual prize giving. Second and third had their moments of fame before Ron was called to the stage to polite cheering from some quarters and more vocal support from the ladies present.

They blathered on for a bit before really getting down to the gritty.

“And winner of the Henryck Lá¶venich Cup for 2005, Veronike Grá¶nberg!”

Dad made sure of some photographic evidence as Ron, with a grin as big as Cheshire hefted the not inconsiderable chunk of silverware aloft.

Twenty minutes later we were heading back towards Dusseldorf on the autobahn.

“So anyway a bit further on, just after the motorway there was some girl cheering at us.”

Ron was giving us the run down on her race, the ‘in the saddle' version.

“Uh huh.” Dad nodded.

“So like a few of the lads were obviously keen to get a good look, I'm not that way inclined.” She chuckled.

“She was a bit of a looker then?”

Well I had to say something.

“I guess, if you're into short busty blondes.” She poked her tongue out at me.

“So when did the break go?” Dad called back.

“At the end of the lap. The girl was there again when we went through again; the lads were all gaping at her.”

“She naked or something?” Dad enquired.

“Nah, she was dressed like one of those cheerleaders? You know with pom poms and stuff.”

“Strange.” Dad allowed.

“So anyway that's when I got the idea.”

“Idea?”

“Yeah to use her as a distraction when I made my move, I mean she'd been there for two laps, she'd most likely be there next time round.”

“My kind of thinking.” I noted.

“So anyhow after we passed you next time, I got ready to go, the lads weren't really working together at all.”

“The chasers were gaining on you that time through.” Dad put in.

“I had my fingers crossed she'd be up to her antics again and she was, leaping about, waving her arms, the lads slowed up for a better look, I took my chance and went for it.”

“So this girl was unwittingly the catalyst to your escape?” I suggested.

“She did help a bit.” Ron agreed, poking me in the ribs.

“You took a chance going with forty K still to go.” Dad mentioned.

“I had to give it a shot.”

“She did win Dad.” I added.

“Indeed she did, did you see this girl Drew?”

“Wish I had, sounds like a right little vixen.” Has he guessed?

“Maybe she'll turn up at other events.” Ron suggested with a smirk.

“I'm sure it was a one off.”

“Probably related to one of the other riders.” Dad mused.

“That's what they were saying in the changing room.” I opined.

“So how far did you ride kiddo?”

“Not sure, I forgot to put the comp on.” I hedged. I mean it was an outright lie but the old man didn't pull me on it.

“What time do your parents get back Roni?”

“Bout six I think.”

“Are we eating today?” I got out just ahead of a rumbling stomach.

“I was thinking maybe we could kill two birds with one stone.”

“Eh?”

“Stop at the Neandertal Museum, they've got a restaurant there so we could eat and get some culture?”

“The one near home?” Ron asked.

“There's more than one?” I queried.

“Not as far as I know,” Dad replied, “it would be nice to compare it with the exhibition in Bonn. Okay with you Ron?”

“Sure, we went with school a couple of years ago, but you know how school trips are.”

By now we were crossing the Rhein, the sun more fully out causing a light mist to shroud the land adjacent to the huge waterway. Ron kept looking at me, giving me weird looks before breaking out into giggles.

“Everything alright back there?”

“Sure , Herr Bond.”

I could see Dad's puzzled expression in the mirror; well I'm not gonna say anything am I?

Dad swung the bus into the car park, already quite full of cars — after all it is one of the top tourist thingies in these parts.

“Urgh, that's better.” Ron stated as she stretched to get rid of a kink or two.

“Come on Champeen, my stomachs rumbling.” I gave her short ponytail a quick tug.

“Why you!”

I darted around the Mercedes and came face to face with like the biggest damn cow thing I've ever seen.

“Yeek!”

“Magnificent eh?” Dad mentioned.

“What is it?”

“That I do know,” Ron stated as she grabbed me from behind, “that , my little elf, is a Bos primigenius or to you an Aurochs.”

“I'm impressed.” Dad announced.

“We studied them in biology last semester; strictly speaking these are Heck cattle which were bred last century to resemble Aurochs, it's all genetics and stuff.”

“I didn't know you were into that stuff.” I stated.

“I'm not really but I need to take biology to study veterinary medicine at uni.”

“And there's me thinking you're just a pretty face!”

“Why you…”

“Break it up you two, even my stomach's grumbling now, let's go eat.”

We left the huge cow bull thing and headed across the road to the sleek steel museum.

“Das weisse Gold der Kelten.“ I read off the poster.

“Sounds interesting,“ Dad mentioned, “food first tho'.“

The food wasn't exactly what I 'd hoped for, no Aurochs burgers or Mammoth steaks on the menu, we ended up with a bowl of potato and veg soup and a slice of, admittedly very good, chocolate cake.

We did the museum and exhibition afterwards and clearly this place is geared up for like pre teen school visits, buttons to push and stuff to pick up. I could tell Dad was a bit disapointed but I guess the days of serious museums are gone, you have to supply what your paying audience want.

The special exhibition, the Celtic Gold thing was much better, my turn to show some knowledge! It was actually about Celtic salt mining and stuff down near Salzburg (theres a connection there!) and Herr Ansbacher was on about this when we were doing stuff on the spread of wealth in Medieval Europe.

It was pretty cool, there was stuff found in mines near Bertchesgaden as well as burial stuff that the experts reckon had its source in the wealth generated by salt. And here we are now with experts telling us to cut it out of our diet — so like humanity for thousands of years has needed the stuff and now suddenly we don't — go figure!

“You guys want to go down to the Discovery Site?“

“I'll take a raincheck.“

“Me too Herr Bond.“ Ron added.

“I won't be long, keep out of mischief, please?“

“Yes Dad, er keys?“

He tossed the van keys to me, he headed off on his walk, Ron and I across the road to the car park.

“So, Gaby Bond, just what was that about earlier?“

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 09.11.2011

Feminine Wiles

"What?"

"You know damn well what."

"I do not."

"Yes you do, standing at the side of the road shaking your booty."

"Oh that." I grinned

"Yes that, come on spill."

"There's nothing to spill, I just thought I'd provide some encouragement."

"You could've done that by just shouting." she pointed out.

"I suppose."

"If you'd told me before I could've planned a bit better, I took a chance on you still being there on lap three."

"Yeah well."

"Does your Dad know?"

"Don't be daft!"

"You still haven't told me why?"

She's like a flippin' Rottweiler sometimes and to tell the truth I wasn't sure myself.

"Well I was like telling the girls about back in England, a couple of my friends did the cheer thing once or twice."

"So?"

"Well like I wondered what it'd be like, to you know do it."

"Come on , Drew, there's more to it than that and what happened last week?"

Indeed there was and it wasn't necessarily directly connected to the cheering business. She was going to find out sooner or later, might as well be now.

"This goes no further okay, promise?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Promise?"

"Okay already, I promise."

"'Kay, well you remember what Dad told everyone in Celle, about my erm condition?"

"Sure, you've got some extra plumbing?"

"Well the extra plumbing is in full working order, last week was my er time of the month."

"Time of the, but you can't, you don't, how does?" Ron babbled.

"It freaks me out too."

"I don't understand how, Mum said you were bleeding."

“I was and quite likely have been for a while but the blood was being absorbed internally? The Doc's reckon that if it wasn't for me racing and so on this would've happened a couple of years ago at least.”

“So why now?”

Why indeed.

“Well Doc Fischer reckons this time it was a heavy flow, more blood and like with racing I ruptured something inside, hence the bleeding.”

“Eww!”

“You want to be on my side of it .” I noted.

“So , like , what happens now?”

“I guess I join the sisterhood full time.”

“You don't sound very enthusiastic.”

“Well it's not like I've much of a choice Ron, they either take out the clearly working girl bits leaving me effectively a eunuch or the outies become innies and hey presto — instant girl.”

“You have been pretending to be a girl.” Ron pointed out.

“Yeah but like , I always had the option of returning to boy mode, it was never meant to be permanent.”

“I guess not. So the cheering today, that was what, seeing what being a girl was like?”

“I know what it's like, I guess I just wanted to see if anyone thought I wasn't a girl.”

“That was all you too?”

“Well I had a little help from Berleiâ„¢,” I mentioned.

“Well you know I'll always be your mate, ot oh, I think your Dad's back.”

“You promise not to tell anyone?”

“I said I wouldn't.”

“What have you two been up to?” Dad enquired.

“Just talking , Herr Bond.”

“ Let's get you home.”

Ron's parents were already back when we got there so we had the obligatory cuppa then set off home. Dad seemed a little lost in thought, I wasn't feeling very chatty either, when Dad put a CD on I was quite happy. That is until the Dadaokie started, he can't sing at the best of times but his sing along to Bolan's Ride A White Swan was excruciating!

Once home it was time to catch up on stuff, email Mad, write to Bernie, do my washing — oh and tidy the house up ready for Mum's return tomorrow, not necessarily in that order.

I hit the print icon and waited for my missive to Bern to spew out. Lets see now,

Dear Bern

What a week! Well its official — sorta, I'm a girl. Not just being Gaby at school and stuff, no the Doc's say that I have a full set of operational girl plumbing which they know because I kind of had a period last weekend! It's so not fair, I don't want to be a girl, I want to be me, the boy? But I guess that's not to be.

I'm gonna be on the end of some cutting and dicing in the not too distant future I guess, I still haven't decided quite what, go complete girl or non functioning bloke, a bloke-ette if you like!

Enough about me, what's happening in your world? I guess junior is getting a bit restless by now, I can't believe I'm gonna be an honory uncle, well aunt probably!

Nearly forgot, I guess Mad has told you about Helen being attacked? Well the good news is that she's making a good recovery; she might be back at school next week.

Looking forward to hearing from you soon,

Hugs

Drew

Seems okay, I'll post it in the morning, I'm sure I've got a stamp in my purse.

“What are you grinning about?” Anna enquired as I took my usual seat in Thesing's.

“I had an idea last night.”

“Ot oh, Fraulein Bond has had an idea, take cover!” Steff boomed out.

“Give over!”

“So what is this idea?” Con asked delivering a tray of coffee to our table.

“I need to talk to Pia before I tell you.”

“You get us all interested then slap us down.” Anna moaned.

“Here you go , girls.” Frau Thesing slid a tray of lunches onto the table.

“Thanks Frau T.” Steff mentioned.

“You okay this week , Gaby?”

“So far.” I allowed.

“Your mama home?”

“Later today.”

“Gut, I want to speak to her.”

Sounds ominous.

“Sorry I'm late,” Pia puffed joining us, “puncture.”

“Sucks.” Brid supplied.

“You got it fixed quick.” Steff mentioned.

“Nah, I've borrowed Mama's.”

Makes sense if you've ever tried to get a wheel out of one of the monsters we ride to school, no quick release, hub gears and they weigh a ton.

“Where's Nena?”

“She's got the day off, her rents are taking them to Phantasialand.” Brid told me.

“Nice day for it.”

And indeed it was, after the cooler weather yesterday this morning has dawned bright and warm — Sod's Law as it's a school day.

“I'm ho-ome!” I sang out when I got home.

The day at school was as tedious as you'd expect, blah, blah, blah, scribble, scribble, scribble, lesson after lesson! Yeah a typical day at Silverberg Gymnasium.

“Drew?”

“Yo.”

Mum came into the hall where I was changing out of my school shoes.

“Come here kiddo.”

I didn't need a second asking, I was soon enveloped in Mum's embrace.

“Oh Drewbie,” Mum started, “I wish I'd been here for you.”

“It's alright.”

“No it's not.”

“Mum really, it's okay, I'll live.”

“You'll live but how are you about it?”

“Dad's told you everything I guess.”

“You really worried him, us last week.”

“I didn't mean to.”

“He thought we'd lost you, no don't say anything to him Drew.” She held me tight, stopping my instinct to go and find Dad.

“Are you okay having another daughter?”

“Drew you've been playing the part long enough that you should already know my answer to that. Me and your Dad, look we're okay with however things play out, your sister has been a trial at times, by comparison you've been a doddle, this just makes things a bit more — interesting. Son or daughter we're happy just to have you here with us.”

It was essentially what I needed to hear, an affirmation of familial love from the most important person in my world, Mum. That probably sounds a little unfair on Dad but, well my relationship with Mum is just different. We hugged a while longer before Dad came to find out where we were.

“So what do you think P?”

I hadn't managed to talk to Pia at school; I rushed home to see Mum after so I ended up ringing.

“You can be an utter ditz sometimes , Gaby Bond but other times you're a genius!”

“This time?”

“Genius. Not sure how we do it but it's a brilliant idea.”

“We'll have to get the Fischer's on board.”

“Your boyfriend might be quite handy.”

“He's not my boyfriend! But you're right, I think Max and Mart'll be useful, do you think your Dad'll let us use the cellar?”

“I'm sure of it, this is gonna be so much fun!”

Fun but sad too.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 11.11.2011

Plan C

“So Drew, how are you feeling?” Doctor Fischer enquired.

Me, Mum and Dad were seated opposite him in a sort of lounge attached to the department, a cup of coffee in front of each of us, which I kept sipping to calm my nerves.

“Okay I guess, still a bit sore, you know, from the stitches I guess.”

“Uh huh, I wouldn't expect otherwise, it's still only nine days after all. I take it you've discussed things, come to a decision?”

“Yes Doctor, we've got a couple of questions though.” Dad replied.

“Sure Herr Bond, fire away.”

“If Gab, that is Drew continues on the contraceptives could we delay the surgery, till after the summer, September maybe?”

For me, my future it was the sixty four thousand Euro question, they can't force me to have the surgery but realistically I'm gonna have to do something and reasonably soon.

The Doc glanced at each of us in turn before answering.

“I can see by your faces that this is something important to you Drew, your cycling I'm guessing?”

“Yes Herr Doctor, if I have the op like straight away I'll be out for the rest of the year, I've been picked for the national team this summer, I might never get the chance again, especially like afterwards.”

Mum held my shoulders; she has been quiet this morning.

He nodded in acceptance of my plea.

“And you Herr Bond, Frau Bond, how do you sit with this?”

“She knows the issues Doctor, we'll be here for her.” Mum stated with a slight quiver to her voice.

“The final decision is Drew's, we had to ask the question, riding is so much of her life.” Dad added.

Doctor Fischer nodded again, “ The best advice I can give is to get things sorted out sooner rather than later, however,” he took a sip of his coffee, “the biopsy hasn't shown any cancerous cells, the drain is in place and the oestrogen dose should prevent any heavy flow. I don't think it would be wise to prolong things too much, we need to keep an eye on things of course but I think September should be okay.”

“Yes!” I gave my fist a little victory shake.

“I guess someone's happy,” the Doc noted, “am I to assume we are going with the vaginoplasty?”

“It seems to be the best option going forward.” Mum supplied.

“Drew?”

“I don't want the op actually, but the alternatives are no go's really, at least this way I've got a chance of a normal life, even if it is as a girl.” I added the last bit to wind Mum up but she didn't bite.

He scribbled something on my notes before speaking again, “Okay I've pencilled you in for October second, we'll need to see you about mid September for a final pre surgery scan, I'll get my secretary to drop you a line with the date and so on; you live near Ahrweiler?”

“Dernau, bout ten minutes away.” Dad offered.

“I'll see if we can't arrange the scan in Ahrweiler or Remagen, I don't need to be present, might give a bit more flexibility rather than dragging you up here.

“Thanks Doctor.” Mum allowed.

“Well in that case we're done,” we all stood, “I hope the summer goes well for you Drew, hopefully I won't need to see you before September.”

“Oh, we'll need a scrip for the contraceptives.” Mum noted.

“Of course,” he pulled a pad from his pile of paperwork and scribbled out the prescription. “Here you go, get it filled here, it's a stronger dose than usual.”

“Thank you Doctor.” I offered.

“That went well.” Dad mentioned as we strapped ourselves into the Saab.

“Yeah.” I agreed.

In some ways it had, I get a reprieve, my summer's plans can go ahead, okay I need to be careful and like BC will need to know but at least I get to go. On the other hand I've got a date, a date when I change gender, a date from which day forward being a boy won't be an option. No, from October second I'll no longer be male on any level.

The drive back to the Ahrtal was a solemn affair.

"So Gab, you never did tell us what this stupendous idea was." Anna noted when we gathered for lunch on Wednesday.

"I wouldn't call it stupendous. "

"Well I would." Nena put in.

I started to turn a shade of puce that boys should never reach.

"You know about it Nen?" Steff queried.

"And me." Pia added.

"So?"

"We're organising a sort of Weihnachtsmarkt for Claud." Nena told everyone with the beginning of a tear in her eye.

Pia pulled her into a hug, "You'd best tell 'em Gabs."

Why me? What should I say?

"Tell us what? and Weihnachts is months away." Brid mentioned.

"Well you all saw how Claudia was at the weekend," there were nods and grunts of affirmation around the table, Pia signalled me to continue, "she's not going to get any better, the prognosis isn't good at all."

"She's dying?" Steff saved me having to say the words.

"Quite likely she has only a few weeks, perhaps the end of the summer." Pia supplied.

This news was of course devastating in equal measure to those that already knew and those just finding out. After a bit of a crying jag and some questions later Con picked up on the original conversational thread.

“So why a Weihnachtsmarkt?”

“Well we were talking on Saturday like and I went off on one about the markets we went to last year and suggested she came with us this year, you could see how much she wanted that to happen, I only found out from P afterwards just how ill she is. I felt like a right card I can tell you. Then while I was out on Sunday it just came to me.”

“I've got the use of the cellar and Dad was on about borrowing a snow maker from the Rá¶delbahn place.” Pia mentioned.

“When is this happening?” Anna enquired.

“A week Saturday,” Nena told everyone, “she's going back to the Schwarzwald on the Sunday so we'll do it on Saturday afternoon and evening, that's if you guys are up for it?”

“Of course we are Fischer,” Steff stated, “so what are we doing?”

P, Nena and I spent two hours on a conference call last night, hopefully we haven't missed anything.

“Here's the programme,” I stated passing out flyers, “me an P are co-ordinating stuff, I'll try to get the Lá¶wen involved with some stalls and stuff, we need you guys to help with decorations and stuff.”

Hopefully we could pull off everything on our list, we'd put some things on a wish list rather than do list but we'd agreed that some things were essentiall, tree, glá¼hwein, wá¼rst, carol singing, decorations. You can't exactly recreate the stalls selling stuff and the typical merry-go-rounds and helter-skelters are a bit beyond us but if we can pull off the snow that will be ace!

Somehow Frau Dá¼rst got wind of things and from being an ambitious job for a few friends we found ourselves with volunteers literally knocking on our doors!

The rest of the week flew by, what with training, schoolwork and trying to organise the great Weihnachts experience, time just disappeared.

“Hallo, Bond.”

“Drew?”

“Ja, wo ist?”

“It's me, Helen.”

“Helen, in Herr Solger's class?” I couldn't really place the name.

“No you dummy, in England?”

It was one of those head slapping instances, of course it was Hel, It hadn't even dawned on me that she was talking English.

“Sorry Hel, I'm organising this thing here and I've been on the phone half the night.”

“Tell me about it, this is the fifth time I've tried to get through.”

“Sorry, how are you?”

“On the mend, I shan't be a lingerie model now but I'll live.”

“You wanted to be a lingerie model?”

“Drew! Sometimes, I was being ironic?”

“Right, yeah of course, just checking like.”

“So what are you organising?”

“Well,” I started, “I've told you about Nena's sister….”

I'm glad it wasn't my phone bill! It was great to talk to her, especially in the circumstances, we sort of caught up on some stuff, we'd be face to face in a few weeks but I felt better having spoken to her, apparently my recording had kept her amused while she was in hospital.

It felt good to talk to someone from ‘back home' without all the recent drama taking centre stage. I do sometimes miss Warsop, but whether it's people or the place I couldn't really say, the end of the call left me a bit maudlin.

“You think you are up to riding Sunday?” Dad asked a bit later when I hit the kitchen to make some cocoa.

“I guess so, not had anymore blood anywhere.”

Not strictly true, the panty liners had taken a few spots a couple of times during the week but I'm not telling Dad.

“There's a chipper at Olpe if you fancy it?”

“Where's that?”

“North of Siegen in the Ebbegebirge.”

Still didn't mean anything to me, “Kay, Roni riding?”

“Not asked her yet but I expect so.”

“Okay then, I need the ride after all.”

Saturday arrived far too soon, no girly shopping trips this week, well not for most of us. I pulled on some scruffy old stuff and grabbed a coffee while I waited for Connie and Anna to come and collect me. I didn't have to wait too long but it's still only seven thirty!

“Come on girl, shake one of those pretty legs!” Anna teased.

“It's too early.” I moaned.”

“There's a lot to do.” Con was no help.

The ride up to Pia's felt like quite a slog this morning, when the three of us arrived we were greeted by a hive of industry. I mentioned we had some extra recruits from school right? Well Mart and Max, the Strechs and a couple of other lads were already busy chopping and sawing stuff, Brid and Pia were organising some other kids painting some boards and Herr Sebenschuh was in discussion with another chap by a large trailer thing which I'm guessing is the snow blower.

“Morning!”

“Heya , Gabs, guys.” Pia greeted us.

The three of us parked our bikes in the grape shed as usual; someone's car was making quite a racket outside. Bear in mind its summer and shorts and T's are the usual garb, walking outside into a blizzard was to say the least unexpected!

“Hey!”

“Over here!” Max shouted.

I, we, couldn't see a thing; it was a total whiteout then the droning engine cut off and the snow slowly cleared.

“Gaby? Connie?” Herr S called.

“You look like an ice-lolly-Bond .” Max chortled.

I felt like one, the artificial snow wasn't melting as quickly as you might think; Con and me were both well coated.

“Well at least we know that works.” Anna noted from the safety of the shed.

You couldn't be angry, it was quite funny really apart from being cold and wet!

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 14.11.2011

No Olpe for the Wicked

To say the day was manic would be putting things mildly. Although the ‘event' isn't until next week we have to get most of it done this weekend as there won't be time during the week and we don't want Claud finding out. This weekend the Fischer's have gone to see some relatives up north somewhere so we don't have to be quite so secretive.

“Phew!” Steff allowed.

“Yeah.” I agreed sinking into a seat next to her.

“Drinks , ladies ? ” Max announced sliding a tray of cool beverages onto the table.

“Cheers , Max.”

“No problemo.”

“So what's left?” Pia enquired.

“Hmm, let's see,” I found my ‘to do' list, “the snow's organised, Mart's dad is bringing the tree down Wednesday, the ‘grotto' is all decorated, signs are painted, you still okay with the sausage stand Max?”

“Yup, the guys are supposed to be helping too.”

“Glá¼hwein, that's your Dad P, so me an Con'll do the Weihnacht's cookies during the week, that's about it I think.”

“You forgot the choir, Gabs.” Anna opined.

How could I forget the choir? I mean, you've heard my tuneless wailing right?

“We can practice here on Friday night.” Pia suggested.

My ‘friends' from my time as Weinká¶nigin are supposed to be organising something for us too, they won't say what but they've been talking to a few of the rents including mine. Dad's staying schtum though.

“Well I'm pooped.” Con stated.

“Yeah, me too and I'm racing tomorrow.” I mentioned.

It's sometimes a bit of a bugger having to pickup Roni and today was just such a day. Up to Mettmann then back to Ká¶ln to get on the motorway into the Bergisches Land and across to Olpe. Dad an' me left home at seven and the race isn't until eleven!

Whilst the Biggesee Jungere GP isn't part of the national series it is an important race in the regional Nord-Rhein-Westphalia series, the Wuppertal race earlier in the year is in the same series.

“I thought you said this was a chipper?” I accused Dad as we unloaded the bus.

“Did I say that?”

“You know you did.” I shot back.

“Well it's not National League.”

“Neither was Bitburg but you wouldn't exactly call that a chipper.”

“Well this isn't Bitburg either, it's three laps of the lake, nothing too challenging for the National Champions.”

We were weren't we, me and Ron, two years ago it was schoolboy Champeen and here I am, de facto Junior champion of Germany, a smile reached my lips. Nothing to prove today — neither of us are in the running in the NRW series, so we can ride our own race.

“You both okay?” Dad enquired thirty minutes later back inside the bus.

“A1.” Roni grinned.

“Like she says.” I agreed.

“No major climbs, three laps, no team orders but another win would be nice.” Dad told us.

“There a feed?” Ron enquired.

“Towards the end of lap two, we'll both be there, there's only a neutral service again today.

Some is better than none.

“Anything else?”

Nothing else to learn, the start is like under fifteen minutes away, we both shook our heads.

“Okay then, stay out of trouble, have a good ride.”

“And Roni,” her Mum started, “you're cleaning the silverware.”

Yes, an often overlooked element of winning, looking after the assorted shields and cups you accumulate.

“Come on Ron; let's leave the fogeys to their grumbling.”

I slid the door open and dropped to the ground.

‘NRW series leader, Joachim Hemer, best girl, Gloria Schlepper and we are pleased to see both the male and female National Series 2005 winners designate gracing the Metalloy Biggesee Jungere GP, Drew Bond and Veronike Grá¶nberg!'

The compere finished the introductions with a flourish. I recognised the Hemer lad from Wuppertal but the girl didn't ring any bells.

“You know any of this lot?” I whispered to Ron.

“A few, Gloria does a lot of track, bit handy in a sprint, there's those lads from Sporting Club Wuppertal, they'll be out for revenge I'm sure, I think that Hemer kid rode at Xanten.”

“Thought I recognised him from somewhere.”

I adjusted my glasses, it's looking like a hot day is brewing, the few clouds above are chasing eastward at a steady but not high speed.

A whistle sounded then a volley of gunshot set us on our way. As usual we were neutralized until we cleared the town centre, a bit of a climb to the ring road then the green flag as we tipped downhill. Enthusiasm and lack of experience had a couple of local chancers tearing up the road but the majority of the peloton were content to let them have five minutes of fame.

As usual Team Apollinaris sat close together, near enough to the head of affairs to react but at the same time letting others set the pace. We dropped to the lake, the road then hugging the waterside for several K's, the early heroes by now safely back in the pack. The road then turned away from the water and started a steady climb between fields and woodland.

I wobbled my hand about for Ron, to indicate a possible place to attack, the gradient is pretty steady though and the road fairly straight. Over the top then the descent started with a swoopy stretch. Unusually today our circuit is going anti clockwise so we were soon directed into a left turn which whilst descending was much less steep.

We negotiated the streets of Repe then had to contend with an attempted escape as the road once again fell away. Next thing you know there's coppers, yellow jackets, flashing lights and the scream of brakes attempting to halt bikes travelling at over 50kph! A couple of riders managed not to make the corner, potential carnage was only averted by the fact we were quite strung out due to the downhill approach.

“Bloody hell!” Ron announced in broad Warsop.

“Yeah.” I agreed.

“I thought your Dad said there weren't any big climbs.”

Well it's not the St Bernard Pass but the road was certainly going over the top of a substantial climb.

“I think his definition is different to ours.” I supplied snicking down a sprocket.

The wide tarmac steepened steadily through a couple of looping bends taking us between fenceless fields. As trees replaced grass the gradient further increased then as we emerged once more into meadows the road could be seen high above us — oh bum! So far most of the pack were holding together in a reasonably stretched group, this climb might well be the breaker!

Around to the left then a tighter right hander had us gaining ten metres in a couple of hundred road distance. The lead car changed down gear as we entered more trees and a much tighter left hander took us higher at a faster rate. It evened out then, still climbing but much steadier, the peloton not smashed but well stretched.

Our route broke back into the sunshine and the almost level stretch towards the top allowed a few backwards departees to make contact with our front group.

“Hope there's no more of these.” Ron puffed.

“Looks promising tho.” I pointed out.

The road started to drop, back into tree cover and shadow. The pace rapidly overtook fifty, into the first bend it was a bit hairy as we returned to sunlight then the next in the series took us back into dark shadow. As steep as the ascent felt, the drop off the Burg was steeper, a gentle left turned in more sharply and steeply, my comp was reading seventy now and I sensed a few worried riders around me. At these speeds you can't afford to be nervous, cautious maybe, careful even but nervous is never good.

We screamed towards the next bend, another right turn, the lead car having to accelerate hard away to stand any chance of outrunning us on the tight turn. The speed limit signs suggested fifty as we hit the next bend, the enforcement camera had us at sixty two just after! You could smell hot rubber as the lead car put his hazard lights on into the next much tighter corner.

In seconds we reached the bottom and a junction that on a normal day we would have stood no chance of making. As it was we nearly ploughed into the back of a parked police car! We now started another steady climb out of the town of Attendorn back towards Olpe.

The pace was back to a more sensible thirty five / forty; still no one seems too interested in doing much. We made another left turn and suddenly the road levelled out, the water glinting in the sunshine slightly below us.

“We seem to have lost a few.” I noted to Ron.

“All the big guns are here, bit hairy on that descent eh?”

“Not many.” I agreed.

“Next or last?”

Good question.

The road bounced along the side of Biggesee, not always at the waterside but never far off. Still no one looked greatly interested in doing anything.

“Ron.” I hissed.

She came back alongside.

“Wassup?”

“Give it a shot on that first up?”

“You or me?”

“Either I guess.”

“You have first bash, I'll act as sweeper.”

Decision made we could each concentrate on making sure of the team's success.

Dave spotted the lead car as it exited the trees on the approach to Sondern.

“Here they come.” He told Angela.

“I hope Drew's okay.”

“Me too, I do not want a repeat of Hamburg.”

“Looks like they're all together.”

“It's a difficult circuit; it'll be a loner or a small group if it does break up.”

The lead car flashed its way along towards them.

“Lenks!” the shout went up.

It's about time. The peloton reacted pretty quickly, the road being wide and level, virtually as one we switched to give chase, looked like one of the Wuppertal lads by the jersey. I smell a rat.

I looked to see where his mate was, yeah thought so, getting ready for something himself. I gave Ron's shirt a light tug.

“Eh?” she enquired looking round.

I motioned with my head; she got the message and nodded in agreement.

We didn't have long to wait, the second Wupper rider shot forward up the kerbside, he was barely past before I was on his wheel. I'm not letting someone else get away before I get a go! He wasn't done; I know from our previous encounter that he's strong this time though I'm better prepared.

The road remained fast and wide, which was just as well given that attack one was still in full flow as I chased after the second move. We followed the car off of the main road and around a loop to take us underneath and towards the water. The pair of us were clear of the rest now as SC Wuppertal ceased hostilities, his chasers mistakenly letting him slow the peloton down!

Our way turned parallel to the water before turning to cross the small dam that spans the waters here. A stiffish breeze off the water did little to deter my companions resolve, as we turned back onto dry land I took my first turn at the front. Another long but relatively shallow climb stretched ahead of us, we soon passed into trees and out of the sunshine.

I slipped my glasses off, hanging them in my shirts zipper — at least I can see the road now! By now the two of us had over one fifty metres on the bunch and we were working quite well together.

“So girly, you fancy your chances again?”

I was just thinking that maybe we could make something of this pairing! I smiled sweetly back at him.

“Not really and I think I'm on.” Yeah, on one!

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 16.11.2011

Olpe and Away!

You would have thought he might have learnt something from our previous encounter, but clearly not hence I'm the champ and he's an also ran. We turned left in the village to start lap two and now my ire was well ire-y. There wasn't really any way of telegraphing my new game plan to Roni but I'm pretty sure she won't be content to just sit back in the bunch with a holding brief.

We kinda worked together on the descent back to the water, I let macho man do most of the pace making - if he thinks I'm an opportunist bimbo well he's only got things half right! I allowed myself a look backwards; the chasers were holding position but despite their numbers hadn't clawed anything back. At the turn onto the next climb I sliced the corner for a few metres lead, Wupper of course then had to expend energy to rejoin me.

In a bunch of fifty or so the climb was a drag, in an escape with one other rider it was less fun and decidedly harder going. There's no point in making a move too early, on the descents he has a body mass advantage although I think I have more technical skills - I'm relying on it!

At the top of the climb we had actually gained some extra ground, I slipped in behind gob-a-lot as we started the descent down through Repe, it was far nicer being able to choose my own line on the twisty bits. A quick slug from my bidon, check my gears, lights flashing like Billy O ahead, sit back off his wheel, go!

He led through the turn and like many a wannabee before him, failed to follow through on his effort. There was just room to squeeze by on his blind side; I had ten metres before he realised what was afoot. I kept the pressure on through the lower slopes, the speed not dropping below thirty even as the gradient increased.

'I hope he's okay.' Ron mused as she took her turn at the front of the now more attentive peleton.

It wasn't that she didn't think Drew could handle himself, far from it, no it was whether he was well enough for this kind of exertion. Hopefully he'd have the sense to pull up if things go awry but knowing him the adrenalin would get the better of him.

There shouldn't be any looking back once you've made the commitment and whilst that can be frustrating… I moved my hands onto the hoods and started ‘honking'* as the road hit the start of the steeper stuff, cutting as close to the white line as possible. I stayed up around the following right-hander before returning to the saddle on the straight.

A glance to my right told me everything I needed, Wupper boy was already a good two hundred behind and the main peleton, I could see Roni up near the front, were only about the same behind him and looking quite determined. The art of successful climbing is getting to the top quicker than everyone else, I clicked up a sprocket and semi sprinted through the next corner.

The next few kilometres will be crucial, I'll lose advantage after Attendorn but the descent — well I can use more road on my own. With the road levelling somewhat towards the summit I went into time trial mode, a tight tuck to cut through the air and a fast but even cadence for efficiency. The lead car disappeared over the brow and I started one of the fastest descents I've ever ridden.

Click, click…. click one gear left to go. I turned on the power and soon the comp was showing fifty, fifty-five. I dabbed the brakes going into the first bend of the series then made the last gear change as I resumed the acceleration. Remembering that the next bend is pretty square I took a wide line on the approach before turning to almost clip the kerb on the inside.

Seventy-five kilometres an hour — scary exciting! I hunched low over the bike, slinging my weight to the side motorbike style through the long sweeping left-hander that followed. Needing to shed some speed for the next corner I sat up, using my body as an air brake to supplement the rubber compound dragging on the rims.

I thought I'd overcooked the next corner, I started too tight but fortunately the camber pulled me out enough to get round. Constant dabbing on the brakes slowed me enough, to under sixty K to slide through the next curve, which led almost immediately into the last sharp turn before the bottom. Scrubbing just enough speed to safely make the turns I took the crossroads like a cork out of champagne!

There could be no let up in my effort, the first few pedal strokes were agony after the long descent but as the climb started to make itself felt the pain eased to more normal levels.

The lead car flashed above them, Roni looked to see Drew, there on his own, so where is the Wupper kid? The now diminished bunch climbed easily out of the saddle, Gloria Schlepper and Joachim Hemer were both on board and looking quite business like. Drew's fellow escapee appeared a good distance behind him and clearly struggling with the effort.

Thankfully the climb up to the top of the dam wasn't too steep, I managed to maintain over thirty all the way up then finally I eased off a bit as I joined the lakeside road. A slug from my bottle emptied it, it's a good job there's a feed in a couple of K's. I daren't slow too much; I've got another lap to do before I can even think of easing up.

I resumed the tucked position and concentrated on maintaining a good forty average along the rolling lakeside road. Then the lead car sped up a bit and the feed zone hove into view, I hope there's some banana chips this week. Angela waved and held up my musette.

“Keep it going, Drew, you've got over a minute!” Dad yelled.

“Dig in!” Angela added as I grabbed the bag of goodies.

A few spectators shouted encouragement or clapped in approval as I passed through. Bottle, figs, yay banana chips, Go bar — not your usual Sunday lunch but you can hardly stop for a roast mid race can you? I quickly stowed my goodies and dumped both empty bottle and bag in the drop zone where a couple of volunteers would pick up the drops.

I used the fast level road to get some snap down my throat, a quick glug of energy drink then as I entered the loop towards the lake I was back to business. A minute, it's not a lot, five hundred metres, six possibly, any error on my part and the advantage is gone. I've been out front for a full lap now and half of that solo; hopefully my legs are up to another forty K.

The bunch that followed Drew certainly contained the rest of the race's big hitters, a dozen riders all told.

“Two minutes! Keep it steady!” Dave shouted to Roni as she passed. It was a ploy that could work, Drew was really only just over a minute ahead but in the confusion of the feed time checks were few and varied.

Roni nodded in understanding, steady was team talk for keeping a lid on things, clearly the lead was more tenuous than Herr Bond had stated.

I kept the pressure up for the length of the climb into Rhode, a lone break of this distance can succeed, complacency is the usual cause of failure. I stuffed a couple of figs down my gullet as I dropped back towards the water for the third time on this road. The gears remained high as I tried to consolidate my advantage.

With the sun on my shoulder and a cloudless sky it was turning into a near perfect day — for hanging at the pool. For cycling it's getting a little warm, the shade of the trees mid way up came as welcome relief. Over another summit to start another fast downhill stretch, I upped the speed again on the road down into Repe to gain any advantage I could.

The third ascent of the ‘mountain' started somewhat slower than last time, this time I wasn't trying to escape I already had . I got into a steady cadence and sat solidly climbing at around thirty. My legs certainly didn't have quite the same zip as last time around but even so I felt pretty good in myself.

At the switchbacks I took the chance to look down to see where my pursuers were, two minutes would be hopeful, a closer guess would be one thirty. Not enough to ease off much but I reckon plenty to get me to the line if I keep at it. I slipped out of the saddle and dug a bit deeper on the steeper turn.

For a second time I slogged up to the summit then it was once more into the scary drop into Attendorn. Even without trying you gain speed quickly on this road and once more the speedo was jumping into the high sixties long before the mid point. I was a bit more circumspect this time round managing a much smoother line on the lower bends although my terminal speed at the crossroads was pretty much the same as last time round.

What I considered to be the last major climb of the day really had my legs feeling leaden.

“Keep it going, Drew.” Angela encouraged.

“One forty! Keep it smooth!” Dad shouted out as I crested the brow.

Like I'm giving up now! There was a twinge of cramp in my left calf, a leg stretch eased it off, hopefully it won't develop more.

The chasers had lost a couple of bodies over the last lap; two had snapped their elastic on the big climb, a third succumbing to a puncture. They certainly weren't giving up on the lone escapee even if Roni was doing her best impression of a sea anchor! No, at times they could see her teammate ahead of them and at this stage in proceedings they certainly had nothing left to lose.

Dave and Angela cheered Roni through then made a dash for the bus so they could take the fast road back to Olpe and the finish.

“You think he can hold on , Dave?”

“Truthfully, no, that last leg plays into the chaser's hands, he's been out on his own too long, at least a lap.”

“The bunch did look pretty determined.” Angela agreed as they hit a ton in their efforts to get ahead of the race.

I took another glug from my bidon, the heat causing as much discomfort as the small climbs. Whilst my speed is pretty constant it's definitely slower this time round, I only hope the others are feeling it the same. Thankfully there was a slight cooling breeze each time the road joined the lake.

Last lap is was the feed, this time it was the ten to go banner and suddenly my chances of success seemed brighter. Ten kilometres, six miles, fifteen minutes or so riding, I once more assumed a crouch over the bars and dug a little deeper. This time the lead car continued straight past the dam turn off and continued up the valley to where Olpe could now just be seen.

The bunch was thrashing along, everyone bar Roni giving it their all. Ahead, the flashing lights of the lead car could clearly be seen, from time to time the race leader was even visible. It was all the incentive needed and long turns were taken at the front by a couple of the lads.

Somewhere along the lake Gloria was finally shelled out leaving Roni the only girl left in the running — unless you counted Drew! At this stage it was still a collective truce, the target being clawed back with just about every pedal turn. Ron was now having to take her turns a bit more seriously just to stay in contact.

Five to go, whew! I emptied my bottle then lost the rest of the food from my pockets, its all biodegradable! I didn't seem to be making any headway towards the town then we passed under the bypass and the road started climbing into the town. Come on Drew, you can do it! At the Bahnhof the lead car swung left for the long straight up to the finish.

I dug in and left the saddle to keep my momentum going; somewhere behind I heard the clatter of gears, shitza! Not this close, please? There must have been no more than four hundred to go when they made contact, it's not over yet! They swarmed around me but here they showed their inexperience by easing up, not a lot but just enough.

“My wheel!” Roni hissed.

I needed no second invite as she took off like a scalded cat.

Our move caught them totally by surprise; they hadn't looked beyond catching me so our departure really threw them into disarray. We crossed the line together, arms held high as the rest made the best of a messy finish.

“You have to do things the hard way don't you?” Dad noted a few minutes later.

“Well he pee'd me off!”

“You didn't have to chase him in the first place, he'd have got caught anyhow.”

I shrugged, “Maybe it was a bit far out.” I admitted.

The judges gave me the win, by a tyre, not that Ron or I were racing by the time we hit the line.

“You okay Drew?” Angela asked joining us.

“Yeah I think so, YAAAAH!”

My yell startled everyone nearby.

“What's up?” Dad requested urgently.

“Cramp! Left leg.”

Well at least I'd made the finish.

“And in third place Joachim Hemer, Sporting Club Essen.”

My leg was still stiff as I waited to be called onto the stage, flippin cramp. The crowd cheered and clapped, the MC waited for it to quieten before continuing.

“Second place goes to Veronike Grá¶nberg of Team Apollinaris who takes the girl's prize too.”

Ron climbed up next to Joachim to more applause not least from Angela and Dad.

“Our winner of the Metalloy Biggesee Já¼ngere GP 2005, Drew Bond, Team Apollinaris.”

Yes! So okay, Ron pretty much let me have it at the line but it still feels good.

“You could have taken the win.” I noted as we returned to the bus.

“If you say so.” Ron shrugged.

“You know so!”

“Okay, if that's what you want to think.”

“Duh!”

“But I don't have to clean the silver!” she giggled.

* Standing on the pedals to climb, you use your body weight to help you climb whilst keeping your centre of gravity closer to vertical.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 17.11.2011

Best Of Elf

Dad and me were invited back for dinner so instead of finding a local restaurant we piled into the bus and Dad headed us via a slightly more scenic route back towards Wuppertal and beyond the extra mile or two to Mettmann.

"Dinner will be about an hour," Angela told us, "take a walk or something."

"'Kay mum," Ron replied, "come on Drew, I need to change."

So here's the thing, me boy, she girl, well officially like and she just drags me up to her bedroom.

"Ron, I'll wait downstairs."

"Whatever for, I thought you might want to put something other than that manky tracksuit on."

"It's not manky!"

"You know what I mean. I've got a nice dress you can borrow."

"Ro-nn." I moaned as she peeled off in front of me.

"What? Come on shake a leg,” she admonished.

I'm never gonna win this one, it's like having Mad around again, at least I've got clean undies on.

"Ooh nice BH*."

"It's only a sports bra."

"Well it's still nice, here you go." She passed a diaphanous cloud of material to me.

Oh boy, not only is it a dress but it's a sexy dress, not your LBD but something much worse, a truly filmy bit of romantic gauze.

"I can't go out in this!"

"Why not?"

"It's, it's er a bit girly."

"And your point?"

I've lost these arguments before and well my chief objection really isn't the garment itself but how I look when I'm wearing it.

"Whatever." I sighed.

I ended up borrowing some sandals as well, the frock just wasn't right with trainers - so I'm told. I ended up looking like one of those Pre-Raphaelite girls; my hair was out of its usual ponytail and tied back with a strip of thin ribbon, boy, talk about feeling a lemon. For her part, Ron had gone for a long floaty skirt and silk like camisole thing, I guess we both looked quite erm girly.

"So erm, where are we going?"

It's one thing to end up in a dress, quite another to go trawling the streets dressed thus.

"Eis?"

"Er sure."

We walked along to the Aldi ᤠat the end of the road; I waited outside while Ron fetched some frozen milk.

"Here you go."

"Cheers." I allowed taking the Cornetto from her.

"You brush up well you know."

"Um?" I got out around the ice cream.

"When you dress properly like."

"I always dress properly."

"You know what I mean."

"Nope." I was concentrating on stopping the melting ice cream dripping.

"I just wondered, well what you'd look like when you're in like full girl mode, you've always been sort of tomboyish when I've seen you in skirts an' stuff before."

I knew it! She's as bad as my cousin!

"So this whole going for a walk thing was just a ploy?" I huffed.

"Kinda, sorry Drew, it's just that I couldn't actually visualise you all girly."

"Gaby."

"What?"

"When I'm in girl mode, it's Gaby."

"I guess I need to get used to that then."

I shrugged, "'spose. This isn't me you know, the hair and dresses, in girl terms I usually dress pretty butch."

"Dr- Gaby you just cannot do butch!"

"Wotcha mean? Course I can."

"Gaby Bond, they could dress you in a sack and drop you into Miss World and you'd win. Its just not gonna happen."

Pull the punches why don't you?

We walked on in silence, the need to finish the ice cream before it melted a high priority.

“Ron?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you like alright with this, you know, me going like full time girl?”

“I'm here aren't I? You're still the same person right? As I see it nothing's really changed, oh I know that like they'll be changing your plumbing a bit but otherwise…” she shrugged and continued licking her Eis.

“Thanks , Ron, I'm worried though.”

“Worried? Who wouldn't be, I'd be peeing myself, anything in particular?”

“Racing, I don't know whether I'll be able to compete at this level next year.”

“For why?”

“Well hormones and stuff?”

“Now look here Gaby Bond, being a girl doesn't stop you racing hard, I've been a girl longer than you and I'm doing okay and your Mum, well she makes some of the blokes look like fairies ! I can't believe what I'm hearing.”

That's told me and what she says is true but it still frightens me.

“Hi Anne Marie, where's Drew , Roni?” Angela enquired.

Ron cleared her throat, “Mum!”

“Oh sorry Drew, I thought you were Anne Marie.” She apologised with a bit of a blush.

“Who's Anne Marie?”

“A friend from college, she looks a bit like you I guess.” Roni noted.

“Well now that you two are back you can set the table.”

I could tell that Dad was a bit distracted; no make that a lot distracted by my appearance and to be honest so was I. It's not a look, a style I would've picked myself but to be honest I quite like it, maybe not for me of course, it's not that practical after all. Even so I felt a bit sad to change back into my shorts and trackie top to go home when we left the Grá¶nberg's pad just after six.

“You alright , kiddo?” Dad asked as we headed down from the Three towards Ká¶ln.

“I guess so,” I paused, “Roni let me win today you know.”

“I'm not blind, Drew, she did what she thought was right.”

“But she could've easily won it herself, she didn't have to drag me to the line.”

“True enough, it's a lesson worth remembering kiddo,” Dad noted, “she rode for the team, if she'd gone it alone she might have won but by taking you up she doubled the chances of an Apollinaris win.”

“But why'd she let me take the win?”

“You'd have to ask her that but I'm guessing she thought you deserved it after being out front on your own for so long. I'd take it in the spirit it was given, one day you'll get the chance to return the favour.”

I heard what he said and I guess he's right — it doesn't make it sit any better with me but I guess another win on my palmares won't go amiss.

‘Morgen, Kinder, wird's was geben,
Morgen werden wir uns freu'n!
Welch ein Jubel, welch ein Leben
Wird in unsrem Hause sein!
Einmal werden wir noch wach,
Heisa, dann ist Weinachtstag!

Wie wird dann die Stube glá¤nzen
Von der groáŸen Lichterzahl!
Schá¶ner als bei frohen Tá¤nzen
Ein geputzter Kronensaal!
WiáŸt ihr noch, wie voriges Jahr
Es am heil'gen Abend war?

WiáŸt ihr noch die Spiele, Bá¼cher
Und das schá¶ne Schaukelpferd,
Schá¶ne Kleider, woll'ne Tá¼cher,
Puppenstube, Puppenherd?
Morgen strahlt der Kerzen Schein,
Morgen werden wir uns freu'n!'

We finished our rendition of ‘ Morgen, Kinder wird's was geben'** with a flourish.

“Gott, I hate my voice.” Anna moaned.

“Well compared to Gabs, we all sound like Bavarians!” Steff giggled.

“Hey, I don't even know the words.” I observed.

“Nobody knows the words Gab, that's why we have the carol books.” Brid mentioned.

This was the last of the carols in our repertoire, and considering none of us are exactly choristers I didn't think it had gone too badly .

“Are we all set then?”

“Everything on the list is covered.” Con told us.

“Great,” I enthused, “I just hope it's not too hot on Saturday.”

“That's what we forgot!” Nena blurted.

“What? We've got everything on the list.” I pointed out.

“Yeah but what're we gonna wear?”

“She's right Drew,” Pia put in, “we can't exactly wear shorts and sandals can we?”

We can't be perfect all the time.

“So what do we wear?” Steff asked.

“We should wear something Christmassy.” Con suggested.

“Some help you are.” I blew her a raspberry.

“We should wear hats and coats for the singing at least.” Anna opined.

“Uh huh.” I agreed, “Maybe we could wear jumpers and ear muffs or something.”

“What about those antlers from last Christmas?” Brid suggested.

Suddenly all eyes turned my way.

“No way! Ut uh not again.”

“Not even for Claudia?” Pia was pushing the right buttons.

“Why can't someone else wear it?”

“Because the costume's too small for everyone else.” Anna pointed out.

“But guys!” I complained.

“Man up Gab, it's only for a couple of hours tops.” Con insisted.

Man up, I wish!

“Hey we could get Dad to be Santa.” Pia giggled.

“We could have a grotto, Gab could be Santa's little helper.” Brid enthused.

“Guys!”

“Oh go on Gab.” Steff persisted.

I've hardly got a choice have I?

“Alright then I'll wear it.”

That's my street cred gone again, roll up, roll up, see Drew Bond dressed as a Christmas Elf!

* BH — shorthand for Bustenhalter which is of course a bra!

** Translates as Tomorrow, children, just wait! English lyrics can be found at http://german.about.com/library/blmus_morgenkinder.htm

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 19.11.2011

The Angel Gabrielle

As you might imagine, the rest of the week was a real drag — let me rephrase that, it wasn't that the week was any worse than usual, rather the weekend seemed to take forever to arrive. With no race this weekend my training schedule was less intensive so the highlight, if you can call it that was Friday's Gardetanz practice.

“And one and two and three and four,” Hannah counted out the steps, “and whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop ladies! Elise, what did I say about pointing toes?”

“Point down?” the hapless Elise suggested.

“And where were yours pointing?”

“To the side?”

“To the side, now once more before we finish and lets see those toes pointing down. Christina if you please.”

And so we started the whole routine again.

As anyone who has done any half way serious dance can attest it's quite a hard and demanding workout, which is one reason I like training with the girls. The other is the social aspect; I generally train alone so the chance for some social intercourse whilst working out is a welcome change.

“Gaby? Have you a moment?” Hannah asked as I gathered my stuff.

“Er sure.”

“We had a committee meeting on Tuesday and everyone has agreed to fund the cheer squad.”

I dunno what she was expecting from me, “ Er great.”

“I, that is, we, were wondering if you'd like to be captain?”

My first instinct was to dismiss the idea out of hand.

“I'm not gonna be about for months and I've got some surgery scheduled for the autumn too.”

“Surgery?”

“Erm, plumbing problem.” That seems to satisfy most people, they don't need to know all the details.

“You poor love.”

“There must be someone else, I'm not even a full time member.” I pointed out.

“But you do have experience Gab. We won't be starting till September anyhow so you being away over the summer isn't an issue, please say you'll do it.”

“I don't know how much use I'll be.”

“You'll do it?”

“Guess I can give it a throw.”

"Great!"

Did I really just allow myself to be railroaded into cheering again?

"So what did Hannah want you for, Gabs?" Pia enquired as we set off back down the valley.

"They're starting a new section, she was asking if I'd be interested."

"Not asked me,” she pouted.

"She hasn't asked anyone to join, I'll be like the coach?"

"You?"

"And why not?" I huffed.

"So what is this top secret new troupe then, line dancing?"

"Cheeky moo, cheerleading."

"Leaping about in short skirts, waving pom poms about kinda cheerleading?"

"It's not always like that." I shot back. "I take it you wouldn't be interested then?"

"I never said that!"

I smiled to myself.

"So what time'll you be coming up tomorrow?"

"Should be with you bout two I hope, just need to change when I get here."

As we were now at P's place we bade our farewells and I pushed my lumpy old Schauff to higher speeds than she was designed for.

"That everything?" Herr Thesing enquired.

"Think so Dad." Con replied.

"In that case I'll see you girls up there."

"'Kay."

"Thanks Herr Thesing."

The bakery was still full of the unseasonal aroma of cinnamon biscuits and other treats more normally associated with December than June.

"Come on Gab, we need to get a move on if we're getting the next Express."

"I'll just get my bag."

'How come when today was my idea, I'm the one who has to wear the stupid elf outfit?'

"What're you thinking Gabs?" Con asked as we waited for the up valley train to arrive.

"Nothing much."

"I've seen that look before, come on spill,” she demanded.

"How comes I have to wear the damn elf outfit?"

"Gott, you're not still on about that, you're the only one it fits."

"But..."

"Give it a rest , girl, look the zug's * here now."

You may be asking why we didn't get a lift with Herr Thesing or use our bikes? Well the first is because you struggle to get two, let alone three people in the cab of the delivery van - Herr Thesing has bought one of those Piaggio Ape things. The bike thing is a practicality - there is no way I'm riding anywhere at ten o'clock at night dressed as a flippin elf!

It's only a couple of stops up to Rech; the walk from the station to the weinstube takes longer.

"What the?" I exclaimed as our destination came into view. It looked like a small fairground had been erected on the car park, all flashing lights, jolly music and glitz, the snow blower blasting frozen water out over the scene making it quite surreal for June.

"Oh my." Con agreed.

We hurried along the main road keen to find out what was happening.

"Hey Gab, cool eh?" Pia suggested.

"But how, why?"

"The Lions, they turned up after breakfast."

Well kewl. There wasn't actually as much as it first looked, a ten metre helter skelter, one of those kids rides with a string of cars but the piece de resistance was a full blown, if small, traditional style merry go round. Not only that but there was a stand being set up for the glá¼hwein and goodness knows how many lights were strung up between everything.

"Wow."

"Hey Gab." Max called out.

"Er hi Strechau."

"Gab!" Pia hissed.

"Look there's even proper mugs!" My would be beau enthused bringing a sample for me to see.

"How the heck did they manage that?"

"No idea," Max admitted, "kewl yeah?"

I took the pot off of him to examine it. Whilst it was almost certainly a standard design, heart shaped in red - I saw some in Bonn similar last year, it was over printed on one side with ' Claudia's Weihnacht, Rech 2005 ' and on the other side ' A donation to the German MS Society for every mug drunk '.

"Hey are you guys helping or what?" Herr Thesing asked.

"Coming Dad."

"Um, where did all this lot come from?"

Con and I had made maybe a couple of hundred biscuits but the truck was almost groaning with not just our biscuits but a variety of other baked goods normally only available in like six months time.

"Maybe I did get a little carried away." Herr T allowed.

The others all appeared to help out, some trays headed inside but the bulk went to another booth that I'd missed behind the Merry go round, next to a third from which I now detected the aroma of wá¼rst.

Once inside I sought out Herr Sebenschuh, P's dad.

"When did all this happen?" I asked.

"Oh hi Gaby, this? Oh the fairground outside, well the guys in the Lion's offered and one thing led to another."

"But it was supposed to be for Claudia."

"It is for Claudia, everyone wanted to make it truly memorable for her."

"But they have food stalls and everything out there."

"Well it was suggested we could raise some money at the same time."

"Who from, it's like a private party, isn't it?"

"Of course the party is private Gaby, the Kellerhof remains as you planned but I'm still trying to make a living, there are five coaches due in this afternoon for the tour."

I'd never even considered stuff like that. In my world vision of Claudia's Weihnachts surprise I hadn't really considered that there'd be anyone beyond the Fischer's and the extended gang. Along the line the Thesing's, the Sebenschuh's, the local Lion's Club, kids at school…. yeah a lot of extra people have become embroiled in the event.

“And the proceeds go to the MS Society?”

“Of course.” He agreed.

I guess it was pretty much a fait accompli.

“Where's Gab?” Steff enquired.

“Over here.” I replied from the bar area of the Kellerhof.

“Ah, Nena just called, they'll be leaving as soon as.”

“Shitza! I need to get changed, can you finish up here Steff?”

“Sure.”

I headed out through the cellars and eventually made my way to Pia's room — I've been there before okay?

“I was just gonna come to find you,” Pia mentioned, “Your stuff is on the bed.”

“Cheers.”

Of course the others were only dressing up in normal if unseasonal stuff, trousers, long skirts, jumpers, hats and scarves which left me to wear the stupid Santa's Elf costume. No idea why, it's not like we are doing a grotty is it? Whatever, if keeps everyone happy.

Pia excused herself and I started to strip off my normal summer togs. I was down to bra and knickers before I looked for the hateful elf outfit, I mean, it makes me look like a right munchkin! ‘ Hmm that's odd, I can't see it, what's this?' I picked up the box sat at the top of the bed, out of place amongst the discarded clothing of my girlfriends.

“P? You there?”

“What's up , Gab?” she called from down the hallway.

“I can't see the costume.”

“In the box.”

“Oh right.” Why's it in a box? Whatever.

I opened the box expecting to find the juvenile costume, what I revealed was, was…

“Pia!”

“What?” she asked poking her head around the door.

“Where's the elf costume?”

“You made so much fuss about it we got you something else.” There was giggling from behind her.

“Can't I just be an elf?”

“No you can't, now get dressed, they'll be here in like five minutes.”

What's worse than an elf you may ask? Think Christmas right, no not Santa or even heaven forbid Mrs Santa, no, think back to the bible story. Like who did the narrative stuff? Yeah the Angel, so I've got an angel outfit, god help me, I'm gonna be the Angel Gabrielle!

* Train

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 24.11.2011

Nougat

All I can say is that thankfully it wasn't some sort of meringue! It was, as tradition dictates, white, with a certain amount of lace. On the other hand it failed to reach my knees, was teamed with white hold-ups and sandals with a stupid 8cm heel!

"I can't wear this!"

"Why not?" Anna enquired from behind P.

"There aren't any wings."

Well I was feeling silly.

"Ta da!" Steff announced brandishing said angel essentials.

"I give up, so whose idea was this then?"

"Nen, you know her sense of humour." Brid advised.

Don't I!

Ten minutes later I arrived downstairs, possibly Ahrtal's first Goth Angel Gabrielle.

If it wasn't for the sun-drenched vineyards and tourists in shorts you could almost believe it was December on the car park. Snow, lights, the smell of wá¼rst, the sound of happy market go-ers, everything was in place.

"Here they come!" Mart, our lookout announced.

Show time, the members of our impromptu choir assembled ourselves, being the shy retiring type I stood behind the others. We waited for the Fischer's to round the corner then launched into a rendition of Jingle Bells that owed more to enthusiasm than word for word accuracy. This was only ever going to be a short set; the main singing thing is planned for later, in the Keller.

We ended our introduction to a smattering of applause. Next up was Hark The Herald Angels.

After the first chorus I suddenly found myself propelled forward so that I was now facing a surprisingly large audience. My mouth went dry and I fumbled a few words but by the end of the verse I was back on track.

Through the chorus again and bolstered by the looks on our audiences faces I launched into the next verse with gusto.

I was halfway through before I realised that no one else was singing. I hesitated slightly; a poke in the ribs with a whispered ‘keep going Gabs' encouraged me to continue through to the end of the verse at which point my fellow choristers rejoined me for the final chorus with renewed energy.

The crowd was most enthusiastic, clapping and yelling their appreciation much to my chagrin.

We finished our performance with an unusual rendition of Slade's 'Merry Christmas' translated by yours truly.

“Nice outfit Gab.” Claudia offered once we'd done.

“Thanks I guess.”

“So is someone gonna tell me what's going on? Nena's been doing a lot of whispering all week, she won't tell me anything.”

“Sorry sis.” Nena hugged her sister.

“Well,” Anna started, “we, or should I say Gab, had an idea for a special party before you go back to the Schwarzwald.”

“This is for me ?”

“I er thought you'd like the Weihnachts theme.” I mentioned.

“Hey come on Claud, times a wastin'!” Pia suggested.

“Alrighty!”

The potentially awkward and embarrassing moment over, our guest of honour keenly entered into the spirit of the event. I did at least manage to lose the wings and halo I'd been cajoled into wearing; the rest of the outfit isn't too bad in reality. Claudia was an enthusiastic fairground rider, gleefully ascending the helter skelter several times and the gallopers enjoyed a good number of visits too.

A continuous stream of coach parties meant that the atmosphere of a busy market barely waned as we slid, galloped and ate our way through the afternoon. But as with all good things there was an end to the event — well the outside event at any rate. The last bus of tourists departed and I was surprised to see that it was nearly seventeen.

“Thanks Gab.” Claud mentioned pulling me into a hug.

“Everyone helped.”

“Yeah but it was your idea, you really are an Angel.”

“‘S'not what the rents call me.” I told her as I started to blush.

“Anyway I really appreciate it.”

“Hey sis, it's not over yet!” Nena put in.

“It's not ? ”

We'd been studiously keeping Claud from getting inside all afternoon, so I'm sure she had no idea about our grotto in the Keller.

“Time for the party now.” Pia gleefully announced.

I ended up pushing Claudia inside.

“So Gab, how come you got the cute outfit?”

“I kinda got railroaded into it when I got here, I thought I was wearing an elf outfit.”

“Now that I'd pay to see.”

“Keep your money, it's not gonna happen!”

“Spoilsport.” She pretended to pout.

We turned into the darkened weinkellers, the others having hurried ahead to get in place. Herr Sebenschuh flicked the lights on.

“Frohes Weihnacht!” the assembled masses chorused.

Outside was the playground, inside was the cosy social gathering.

“Gaby, you, you bitch you! I hate you for this.” Claud whimpered.

“It's too much, sorry Claud, we can go.” I started to move her chair.

“Don't you dare Gabrielle Bond!”

I stopped, confused as she started to blub.

“Erm?”

“You really are an Angel, I never thought, I was sure I'd never have another Christmas, unless there's a miracle I'll be dead long before December.”

“You don't know that.” I started to tear up myself.

“I do Gab, you guys know too don't you.”

“Pia told me last weekend.” I admitted.

“Thank you Gab,” Claudia wiped her face before addressing the gathered masses, “thank you everyone for doing this. Let's get down and party!”

So we did. The choir performed our mini concert, which was actually good fun once we got over a degree of ‘shyness' that we'd escaped earlier. The selection of food and drink inside was greater, I'm sure everyone found something to suit. The light was just going when it was time to leave.

“It's snowing!” someone shouted down the corridor.

Everyone hurried outside, the snow maker must have been running at full pelt, everything in the car park was covered in white, the strings of lights and rides glittering through the still falling white stuff.

“Last go on the horses?” someone suggested.

And so that's how the day ended, happy faces riding a merry go round with snow falling all around, the sadness of the event for now hidden.

“If it's not our very own angel gracing us with her presence.” Jules opined when I eventually stumbled into the kitchen Sunday morning.

“Whatever, any tea in the pot?”

“It's been sat a while.”

“If it's wet and warm.” I grabbed a mug and poured a cup of the over mashed tea. “Urgh!”

“I did say.” My sister pointed out from where she was peeling potatoes at the sink.

“Where's Dad?”

“Downstairs, he was mumbling about taking a drive after dinner.”

“Guess we're eating in.” I observed.

“A proper roast, Boris is coming down.”

“The one with a squint?”

“He does not have a squint!”

I grinned back at her.

“You could invite your boyfriend?”

“Max is not my boyfriend!”

“Whatever you say sis, you could still ask him though.”

“For why?”

She rolled her eyes, “ As a thank you for yesterday? I know he worked hard on the project, building and painting stuff.”

“He's a boy, it's what they do.” I shrugged.

She gave me a look.

“Okay, I'll ring, he won't want to come, he'll be eating with his family.”

“You can give me a hand when you've done.”

“Yes Mum.”

“Why you little…” she started to chase me around the kitchen.

“GIRLS!”

We screeched to a halt.

“And put that knife down Jules, you could hurt someone.”

“Er sorry Dad, Gabs was just gonna ring Max, weren't you?” she directed the last to me.

“Um.”

“Well scoot then,” Dad suggested, “and put some clothes on, there's a bit too much Gaby on display.”

I am dressed, I checked to see what he meant in the hall mirror. Eeek! My boobies are peeking out of my pyjama top; I must have given Dad a right eyeful!

“So um, I was wondering, would you like to come down for dinner later?”

“Yes.”

“It's nothing special, just like a Sunday roast, Jules' BF is coming.”

“I said yes Gab, you don't need to sell it.” Max managed to get in between the lines of my monologue.

“Er oh right, you're not eating with your family?”

“I just got a better offer, what time do you want me?”

“Erm, I'll just check, hang on.” I held the mouthpiece to my chest and shouted through to the kitchen, “what time's dinner?”

“Yess! Twelve thirty.” Jules called back.

“You still there?” I asked.

“Just listening to your heart beat.” Max told me.

“Whatever, foods on the table at twelve thirty.”

“I'll be there.”

“Well I need to peel some sprouts or something, see you later.”

“Later Gabs.” Max pumped the air with a whispered ‘yes!'

“Who was that Max?” Grandma enquired.

“Gaby, Gabriella Gran, I've been invited to lunch.”

“Well you'd best get ready then,” she suggested with a smile, “oh and you can invite her to Analise' s nuptials.”

“It's not until November!”

“Plenty of time for her to prepare; unlike last time, eh?”

“Yes, Gran.” He sighed.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 27.11.2011

Food for Thought

I can't believe I just did that, I actually invited someone to have dinner with us who is a) not in my inner circle and b) is a boy. T hat sounds a bit weird I suppose but whilst Max is a friend, I guess, you don't normally invite random individuals to lunch , at least not in my book.

Jules is in a tizzy, Boris has survived as a boyfriend for longer than anyone else up to now so she's keen to show off what a domestic goddess she is.

"Gab, can you make the Yorkshires?"

If you want the best, bring in an expert!

"Guess so, the carrots are ready to go on and the cabbage just needs putting in a pan."

"Cheers sis."

I know one thing, the 'boys' can do the washing up.

So of course I had to dress for 'company', geez I've met Boris before and well, Max is, well Max.

"I'm not putting on a dress on ." I huffed.

"I'm not bothered what you put on but you are not going to show me up dressed like that." Dad told me shortly before our guests were due to arrive.

'That' consisted of a sloppy old T shirt, cut off jeans and a pair of thong sandals, I guess I can see Dad's point there. M y anti dress stance was, I have to admit, more out of habit than any actual hatred of the garments and when I returned to the lower levels I was actually wearing my pale yellow sundress, the one with the poppies around the hem.

"Thought you weren't wearing a dress? " Dad observed.

"A girl can change her mind."

Yeah I did just admit to being a girl, it's not like I can really fight that reality, I might not like it but it is what my future holds I guess. A ny further discussion on the subject was halted as the unmistakable crackle and pop of Boris' two wheeled transport arriving , grabbed our attention.

Y ou want chapter and verse on the meal? W ell you'll have to ask someone else as I spent it most of the time trying to avoid eye contact with the Baron in waiting , who Dad in his wisdom had sat next to Jules but opposite me. Y ep you got it, I ended up sat next to the geek that is Boris - must be if he likes Goth girl. T he Bond girls can cook a bit, so the food was good and Jules even admitted to her beau that I'd made the Yorkshires.

"Thanks for inviting me, Gab."

"It was Jules' idea."

"Whoever's idea it was doesn't matter, I really enjoyed it."

"I bet you eat better every day, what with the restaurant." I suggested.

"You've got to be kidding; most of the time we just have ordinary stuff, maybe steak on Sunday but nothing special."

"So it's not all like Munich, then."

"As if. It's the first time I've ever had English food."

"You are kidding."

"It's true." Max insisted.

"So how was it?"

"Much plainer than I thought it would be ."

"Yeah well it's nice to actually taste the food sometimes instead of swamping it in sauces - which is okay but you kinda don't want it all the time."

"Hmm you might have a point."

"You kids fancy a run up to the Ring?" Dad enquired.

Its not like I 've got anything planned.

"I guess."

"Max?"

"I'm not doing anything."

"Great, you can keep this one out of trouble!"

Cheers Dad.

"Ten minutes; you might want to put some proper shoes on, Gab." he suggested.

'These are proper!' well okay they might not be ideal for one of Dad's hikes but like it's not a big heel. "Yes Dad."

"I can't remember the last time I was up here." Max admitted a while later.

"I'm up here at least twice most weeks, it's on my training route."

"So you'd been up here that day I stopped you?"

"Yeah, the climb up does the strength work, going back down is all about control and speed - everything in one neat circuit."

"I'd take all day just riding up."

"Yeah well I can't kick a ball to save myself, so it cuts both ways. ”

Dad finished fiddling with his camera and we set off on the climb up to the Nurburg itself.

We were st anding on the roof of the main tower, enjoying the views out across the Eiffel.

"Gab, you remember the wedding?"

How could I forget?

"Er yeah.

"Did you erm, did you enjoy it?"

"It was certainly an interesting few days." I allowed.

"Well I was kinda wondering if you fancy going to another one."

"Another one? You're kidding, right?"

"Analise, she's like my cousin on Mum's side , is tying the knot."

"Next week is it."

"No! Er no. It's November at Koln Dom, a small family affair."

Small and Koln Dom cannot be used in the same sentence.

"So no visiting royals or TV cameras?"

"I shouldn't think so."

What the heck am I doing giving the idea even a little headspace?

"I'm not saying yes or no right now, I've got no idea what I'll be doing that far ahead."

"That's cool, Gran said you'd appreciate some notice."

"So it was your Gran's idea to ask me?"

"Not entirely."

"I'll think about it."

There's no harm in thinking is there?

"What are you two plotting?" Dad's voice behind us made me jump.

"Er nothing, just um, admiring the view." I offered.

"It is stunning isn't it? "

"Be better without the motorbikes." I suggested.

"True but the circuit contributes a lot to the local economy so a few howling engines in the woods is the price we have to pay."

"We did get some of the DTM drivers at the restaurant a few weeks ago." Max supplied.

"Still don't like the noise." It's my opinion and I'm sticking to it!

"You won't fancy a visit to the museum place then?"

"I'd rather clean my bike."

"I think, Max, that's a no." Dad chortled.

We didn't go quite straight home, we stopped in Altenahr for ice cream before dropping Max off at the Schloss.

"That looked intense back at the Burg?" Dad suggested.

"Not really, well sorta."

"You'll have to run that past me again."

"It's a bit um weird."

"I can do weird."

"Well he asked me to another wedding."

"Not in the next couple of weeks I hope?"

"No, it's in November."

"More royalty?"

"He says not but I 'm not sure if I believe him."

"So are you going?"

"I said I'd think about it."

"Ot oh, looks like Boris is staying for tea."

I forgot to say, the Goth One and Boris - fitting eh? - well they stayed in Dernau this afternoon. I think Dad took us out to give them some space. Goodness knows what they were gonna do - well maybe that I suppose, I 'll have to ask later.

Tea was only some salad and cold cuts so there wasn't much to do for that, I excused myself and headed to my eyrie.

Let's see,

'Dear Bern,

Everything alright with you? Won't be long until you go home now eh?

I've had a right time since i last wrote. Nena's sister, Claudia, the one with MS, has been home so last week we took her to Koblenz. the bad news is that she's now very ill, she might not see christmas.

Then last week me an' Ron did this race at a place called Olpe, it was a right stinker but guess who won? well Ron should've but she let me take the line first.

Anyway, i had this idea like, for Claudia as she might not get tio a real one, our own christmas market thing! the girls all went for it so yesterday we had it up at Pia's place. Claudia liked it which was the main thing, guess who had to dress up as an angel though?

there's some more stuff to tell you but i'll save that for when i see you in a few weeks.

bye for now

Drew'

Yeah that'll do, it's got all the main stuff in there but like there's some stuff I'm not letting those prison people read about, it's too personal.

I hit the print button and watched as my words were turned to ink marks on paper. Thats Bern, now do I email Mad or ring her?

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 29.11.2011

Ip Dip You're It

"Drewbie!"

"Er hi Mad."

Yup, I decided to bite the bullet.

"So what's happening in drearyville?"

"Well that's nice I must say, true but not nice."

"And the answer is?" you really have to poke at Mad for an answer sometimes.

"Well..."

This is gonna be a long one! I made myself a little more comfortable as my cousin started her monolog ue .

"And then Rhod said 'don't get your panties twisted' which of course had Ian turning even redder so Clive weighed in and said..."

"Mad!"

"Eh?"

"I'm sure it's an excellent story but I've got school in like seven hours."

"Oh right."

"So regards to everyone, I'm sure you'll talk before I come over."

"Is it really only three weeks away?"

"Bit less, I'm riding some time trial next Sunday then the weekend after it's the Koln Con and Le Tour."

"Make sure you take plenty of pics at the con."

"Iwill and the Tour."

"Yeah that as well."

"Nite Mad."

"G'nite John Boy ."

"Whatever."

With the end of the school year looming, we finish next week, and there not being a great desire by anyone to actually do any work , by students or teachers, the coming week looks likely to be a bit weird.

"What are you thinking about, Bond?" Steff enquired.

"Nothing in particular."

"That big sigh wasn't for nothing."

"I was just thinking..."

"Quick everyone, Gaby's thinking!"

There was a round of groans and jeers from the others in class.

"As I was saying, it's been quite a year hasn't it?"

"It has?"

"Well for me at any rate and like next week it's over."

"Bit of a pessimist today aren't we?"

"Well, I'm not gonna be around all summer, it's gonna be weird not being with you guys."

"And Max."

"Give over!"

"You'll have your cousin and Bernie." Steff suggested.

"It won't be the same and I'll be off racing most of the time."

"A busmans holiday, ja?"

"Yeah."

"Hey Gab, you going to the dance next week?" Fabienne asked from across the room.

"Dance?"

"Really Gabs, how could you forget that." Steff sighed, " Yes she is Fab."

"I am?"

"Monday? End of term tanz?"

"I guess I'm going then."

One of these days I really am gonna have to get a diary, next week looks like it's going to be well busy.

"You got anything planned for Saturday?" Dad enquired as he started the dish washer.

"Not really, why?"

"I need to go up to the Gronbergs, just wondered if you fancied a day out?"

"Could do, what are you going for?"

"I'm not allowed to say."

"Da-ad!"

"Okay, but not a word okay?"

"Cross my heart."

"Hmm."

"Pretty please?"

"I've had the Federation on the phone today."

"BC?" I interrupted.

"No the German Federation, they've asked me to release some riders for the Worlds."

"Roni? That's well cool. You said riders?"

"Erm it's a bit embarrasing really, for me and them."

"Eh?"

"Well they wanted four riders."

"Four?

"I said yes to three but not the fourth."

"Someone's gonna be disappointed, oh you mean Ron?"

"Think about it spud, how many in the team?"

"Five?" the penny finally dropped, "they wanted me? but I 'm English."

"A point I did mention to them, you do however race on a German licence and meet the residency requirements."

"So I could race for Germany?"

"In theory."

"Neat!"

"Before your head gets any bigger just remember that BC are looking after you, with a bit of luck you'll be pulling a GB jersey on in September."

"Yeah but to be picked by the German Fed too, maybe if BC don't pick me I can still ride for Germany."

"There might just be a catch there."

"Catch?"

"They wanted you for the girl's squad."

It took a moment to sink in, "Girl's?"

"That was the erm, embarrassing bit."

No kidding! On one hand it's like a big honour that they've asked but don't they check their records? I mean, my racing permit does say male , doesn't it? There again, like it or not, it looks likely that by Christmas I really will be a girl, I 'm not sure what I really should be feeling.

"You got everything for next week Gab?" Stef asked as I plonked my bum on the seat.

"For the dance?"

"For Koln silly."

Bum, with everything else that's been going off I 'd forgotten about that.

"Er, I think so."

"I bet she's got like a case full of outfits ready." Brid suggested.

Well I've not got a shortage of Cos outfits it's true, I'll have to decide what I am going to take.

"So are you going to the Tanz with Max?" Pia enquired.

"Why would I go with him?"

"Why wouldn't you?"

"Don't you guys ever give up?" I sighed.

"Nope!" Anna grinned.

"Con, help me here?"

Fraulein Thesing brought our breakfast over, "What's up?"

"Tell 'em I'm not interested in Max."

"You're not? Can I have a go?"

"Co-on!"

"I was only saying."

The others giggled.

"So what are we doing at the weekend?" Nena asked.

"I need some shoes for the dance." Pia mentioned.

"Bonn or Koblenz?" Anna offered.

"Well I can't go anyhow." I told them.

"Why not Gabs?" Stef pressed.

"I'm seeing Roni on Saturday."

"Your racing friend?" Con noted.

"Yeah, Dad's got to go up and she has been on about going shopping so we're killing two birds."

"Doesn't she live in the Ruhr?" Brid asked.

"Er yeah, not far from Dusseldorf so I guess that's where we'll end up."

"Nice," Anna noted, "they have some cool shops up there."

"No idea, never been." I allowed.

"It can't be true, somewhere Bond hasn't been!" Stef exclaimed.

"Come on, we'll be late." I suggested.

"Will not, finish your coffee girl." Con pushed me back into my seat.

And so another day starts for the Ahr Angels and their education at the Silverberg Gymnasium.

*A reference to the closing of each episode of The Waltons.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 12.12.2011

Model For A Day

"So what exactly are we doing?" I pretty much huffed as we stood on a windswept platform in Dusseldorf Hauptbahnhof.

"Shopping, I did tell you – you didn't have to come."

True enough and now I 'm feeling a bit of a twit .

"Okay, I'm sorry, alright ? So just why are we going to this Hilden place ? We could 'shop' in Dussel."

"If I tell you it won't be a surprise." An almost mollified Ron observed.

This all started after that race at Olpe the other week, Ron expressed a desire to do something together before I head over to Blighty for most of the summer. At the time I couldn't see how we'd fit it in but then Dad needed to do something with the Grá¶nberg's in person and hey presto, here we are at ten on a comparatively cool Saturday morning stood in Dusseldorf.

"Which train is it?"

"I told you, the S1, it'll be here in about two minutes."

"Just checking."

"Some of the girls at college are wearing the shorts and hose, I never had you as a trend setter , let alone in girl's fashion."

Clearly there was no real answer to that.

"I only put the strumpf on 'cause it was a bit nippy this morning."

"I wasn't criticising, I'm not exactly a leader of fashion, more tail end Charlie."

"Individual?"

I'm not being cruel or nasty when I say this but she does tend to look like Angela has bought her clothes.

"So what are we shopping for?" I find it's best to get these things straight.

"You'll see, here's the train."

The train barely seemed to be slowing as it reached us but did eventually stop with us next to a set of doors.

"How'd you know it would stop right here? I always end up running along the platform."

We stepped on board before Roni replied, " It's not a black art you know, anyone can learn."

"If you say so."

By now we had found a couple of seats and were waiting for the train to set off.

"Well duh, blondie, just look at the platform, there are markings for the blind, the train always stops next to them."

So okay, I never even realised that's what they were, let alone use the info myself.

"I 'll have to try it out when I get home."

It wasn't a long ride, maybe five stops, I wasn't counting : then I was being dragged from the train onto the platform at Nowhereville.

"Are you sure this is the right place? It's like drearyville"

"It's not that bad, honestly, Gab, have some patience."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, so come on lightning, which way?"

Ron led off up an unlikely looking road opposite the Hbf, not even the one signposted 'centrum'. it was only five minute's walk up to a much more travelled street, Ron didn't hesitate in turning left.

"We haven't come to look in a bike shop have we?" I asked spying a sizeable emporium bicyclette across the road.

"Nope, you'll see."

I sighed to myself, she's been saying the same since we left Schloss Gronberg an hour ago. We crossed the road, walked a little, crossed another road then shortly after I just about knocked Ron over when she stopped in front of me.

"Flippin heck, Ron, a bit of warning."

"Hut hum!" she rolled her eyes weirdly.

"What?"

"Next to you dumbo," she motioned with her head this time.

"It's a shop, so what?"

"Look in the window."

It was only then that I spotted exactly what was in the window, "Oh kewl-ies, can we go in?"

"Of course dumkopf, why do you think we've come here?"

I didn't need a second invite to enter 'Modellbahnladen Kramm', Ron led on inside where I found scale modelling nirvana! Cabinets of railway locomotives of the expensive kind took up a chunk of space but over to the right hand side shelves were stacked with building kits from all the big brands as well as some I 've never come across before. I was almost drooling - not a good look for a girl of course.

"Okay girls?" an assistant enquired.

"I think so, once Gabs collects her tongue from your floor."

"Well let me know if you need any help."

"Thanks, we will, eh, Gab?"

"Eh? Oh yeah right."

Whilst the places I go to regularly, in Bonn and Koblenz, have pretty good stock, this place has tons! Ron wandered off and left me to explore for a bit. I must have been engrossed for at least twenty minutes before I spotted that she'd disappeared .

"Ron?"

Nothing.

"Ron?"

"You looking for your friend?" the cashier enquired.

"Uh huh."

"She went down to the autos."

"Cars?"

"Down the slope at the back," he pointed.

"Er thanks."

"No problem fraulein," he smiled.

I headed where he had indicated and nearly died a second time, the room beyond, whilst not as big, was packed with model cars of all descriptions.

"Ron, where are you?"

"Over here."

I followed the voice to where my friend was eyeing up some big scale Ferraris.

"This place is something else eh?"

"You're not kidding." I agreed.

"They've got some of those little things you collect over by the counter." S he pointed to the opposite end of the room.

"I'd best take a look."

"I'll find you in a bit."

"'Kay ."

There weren't just 'some' of 'those little things', no sirree, there were hundreds, nay thousands. There is just no way I can leave this place without buying something, make that plural! I worked my way along the shelves, new stuff, old stuff, brands I 've never seen, models I never thought to see for sale - just amazing.

I made a mental list of what I 'd like, well you have to don't you ? Then I calculated my budget - hmm I guess I don't have to buy it all today, do I ?

"You found some?" Ron enquired having snuck up on me.

"Just a few, how'd you know about this place?"

"I saw it the other week when we came for a dress fitting."

"Dress fitting? You? "

"Yeah, my cousin is getting married so I 'm to be a bridesmaid."

"don't tell me, the dress is a pink meringue."

"Puce to be exact."

"Ooh lovely."

"So you buying anything or what?"

"I shouldn't really spend too much, what with going to England and stuff, I was just trying to work out exactly which to get."

"Well put this in the pot girl, kind of a leaving present eh?" she pressed a twenty in my hand.

"Don't be daft Ron." I tried to give it back.

"Take it, I can afford it after the last few races."

"But that's your money."

"Exactly. If I want to spend some of it on my best mate I can and will."

"But I'll be back in a few weeks."

"Humour me eh? Now either spend it on something you want here or I 'll spend it on some girly smellies which you probably don't," she raised both brows.

Fifteen minutes later I reluctantly left the shop having spent Ron's twenty plus a further forty of my own : sixty euros on plastic cars!

"So what now, back to yours?"

"You really do give blondes a bad name, Miss Bond."

"It was only a question." I pouted.

"Now it's your turn to help me."

"Help you?"

"You've seen the contents of my wardrobe, it's hardly based on the Paris catwalks; you can help me get some slightly more fashionable togs."

"You really did mean shopping."

"What did you think I meant?"

"Me an' the girls usually just like cruise the shops, we hardly ever buy anything."

"Yeah well call me weird but I never did get that stuff; so you up for spending some of my dosh?"

"Lead on McDuff." I grinned.

"McDeff?"

"Duff, it's Shakespeare."

"What's it mean?"

"Lead the way?"

It's times like this that I realise that there's a considerable cultural divide between me and my German friends. I guess when I go back to the ole U of K there will be a similar culture vacuum, at least they should get Shakespeare!

We soon made our way to the shopping streets, it's not a big town but all the regular players are present, P&C, C&A, H&M as well as a few unpaired initials!

"So like what are we looking for? Complete makeover or just some bits?"

"Call me a coward but I think I'm safest with just bits."

"Any particular style? Rock chick, girly girly?"

"Nothing too out there, I'd just like to fit in at college a bit better."

I'm no expert at this stuff but I have learnt a thing or two 'running' with a pack of girls for a year or so. There is some nice gear in Ron's collection but you can see her Mum's influence in there, maybe a bit 'young' but at the same time out of fashion by quite a while.

"Walk this way, Modom, thank you for using the Bond personal shopping service."

As shopping expeditions go I 'd rate it maybe an eight, although they are the same shops; some of them in Hilden don't have quite the range that they do in the big cities. Still it was a good start on 'new' Roni', for comparatively few Euros we managed to kit her out with some essentials. We found some shorts similar to mine, I'm not sure that particular fashion will last but she does have good legs!

It was different shopping with just the two of us, more relaxed than the blitzkreig of the Ahr Angels hitting the stores!

"Had enough?"

"For today I think," Ron admitted with a grin that set us both off giggling.

"Let's find the bahnhof then."

"I don't think we need to, isn't that your car over there?"

I looked where she was pointing, it certainly looked like our Saab parked across the road. My handy was out in a flash, speed dial Dad, he picked up on the second ring.

"Drew?"

"Uh huh, where are you? We're stood over the road from the car."

"So I guess you want a lift then?"

"Pretty please."

"I'm in the bakery behind you, coffee?"

"So how'd you know we be here?"

"Angela told me and by default you'd almost certainly have to pass here to get to the station. Is this the new school uniform then?"

"Eh?"

"He means the shorts blondie." Ron observed.

"Ron wanted some new stuff; hey did you know there's a really cool model railway shop here?"

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 6.12.2011 Gruiten

Testing Times

“Change of plan for tomorrow.” Dad offered as we slipped onto the autobahn.

“How so?”

“Well I've been asked if you pair would ride the two-up rather than the solo event.”

Whilst I have kinda been looking forward to riding the time trial, a two up is more fun and generally faster.

“Isn't that longer, Herr Bond?”

“Sixty K I think.” Dad allowed.

I looked over to Ron, she looked back, we both shrugged.

“That a yes , then?”

“Works for us I guess.”

“I'll ring them back when we get in.”

It was literally one junction on the motorway but it missed a lot of little lanes, instead of the hour plus to get to Hilden this morning we were back in like twenty minutes.

Back in England I used to do quite a few time trials, a lot of people only ever compete against the clock. Over here they are comparatively rare, anyone specialising in the discipline would have to travel all over to get a full programme. For us, well it's a break in the normal routine, a chance to really show what we're made of with no bunch to hide in, no tactics to worry about just riders against the clock.

Of course the other big difference is that instead of racing up and down a major trunk road at first light, today we don't start until mid day and we are doing two laps of a circuit just to the west of Krefeld (1) that's as flat as a fart with one ten metre ‘climb' each lap. Nothing's that simple of course, we collected Ron and her mum from outside Krefeld bahnhof just after nine, we were at the circuit by nine fifteen.

“Try it on the turbo first.” Dad suggested.

“I'm really not sure about this.” Ron mentioned, eyeing up the carbon t ime trial machine Dad had borrowed for her from the senior team.

“It's easy.” I bragged with more confidence than I felt. It's been an age since I've ridden tri bars even and these pro machines are something else.

At least the turbo is safe, great for tuning your position but not a great help for bike control, hence our seemingly far too early arrival. After convincing my team mate that she could ride the monster and some playing about with position the pair of us cautiously set off towards Kempen. With Dad and Angela following along behind we got a better feel of the bikes, my previous experience with aero bars was a big help, Ron fed off of my growing confidence.

“Okay, try a bit of rotation.” Dad encouraged.

Now you'd think with our racing experience that would be an easy thing but as some of the pros have discovered, it's an art in itself on these quirky speed machines. We did a few cautious passes before Ron felt happy to up the speed again. We had plenty of time still so we pressed on and by the turn of the course at Aldekerk we were both happy enough to start riding closer to race speed.

“Woo wee!” Ron exclaimed as we rolled to a stop back at the now bustling HQ area at Gymnasium Horkesgath (2).

“I think we've cracked it.” I agreed.

I have to say that our almost prototype Cube mounts (3) attracted more attention than their riders, I guess its not every day you see €3500 worth of bike and to see two of them…

Given that our participation in the two up was only confirmed yesterday afternoon I was a bit surprised to see that the official start list included us — even if it was as last team off from the sixty three pairings on the card. We collected our numbers and timing bands, state of the art wireless timing, none of your handheld stopwatches here, then watched a few of the early starters set off. Unusually the solo riders, about a hundred and fifty of them, would start after the team event.

‘Bip, bip, bip, beeeep!'

Team eleven pushed down the short ramp away from the start to much enthusiastic cheering.

With two minute start gaps we still had plenty of time before our slot.

“We really look the part today what with matching bikes.” I noted.

Roni got a funny look on her face, “You got your makeup bag?”

“I think it's in the car, why?”

“Well we could take it a step further?” she suggested with a gleam in her eye.

“Go on, how?”

“Same makeup, do our hair the same.”

“Wear makeup to race?”

“Don't say you haven't done it, I've seen you and a bit of lippy is only like coloured lip salve.”

The idea did have some merit, but no, I'm a cosmetic free boy.

“Are you girls getting ready?” Angela enquired.

So okay, I'm almost a girl.

‘Dreiundsechzig.'

We wheeled our mounts onto the start gate and with quickly practiced precision mounted our beasts to await the off. Angela had put our hair into matching braids — Ron's barely reaching her collar whilst mine dangled several inches lower. Our faces, whilst having a minimum amount of gunk painted on wore the same and after Ron found my blue nail varnish we both sported matching nails. Apart from size and hair colour we truly did look like clones.

'Eine Minute.'

“Let's do it.” I stated.

The gallery hushed as the screen counted down and we each made final adjustments. Ron will lead off as I'm the faster starter, we don't want to get separated at the start. The MC was babbling something or other but I was already in the zone, fifteen seconds.

Deep breath, a last glance at Ron, nod okay.

‘Bip, bip, bip, beeeep!'

Big effort off the ramp, out of the saddle, forty k, okay then sit and settle down. The first turn was only half a kilometre on so we'd agreed to stay off the tri bars until we cleared the almost hairpin turn. We were both panting by the time we swung around the corner to start racing in earnest.

The road barely has any change of altitude, I think I mentioned that, so we quickly assumed the ‘position', a neat tuck, elbows against boobs. We had our speed hovering around fifty K, with any luck we'd be done in close to an hour. Going off last and having two laps to cover would be a big advantage over the earlier starters, the first of those were already in sight.

By now we were rotating like a well oiled machine, Dad had suggested hundred metre turns to prevent the inevitable fading a longer turn would induce. The wind, for what it was worth, hit us on the right shoulder until Kempen where we took it in the face when we joined the bypass. With the short turns, almost continuous rotation, our speed barely faltered allowing us to slip past team thirty one with consummate ease.

Another change of direction when we turned off the bypass returned the wind to our faces as ahead of us I could make out at least three more teams. Steadily we gained on those ahead, taking our two minute men just before the A40 motorway and twenty six a little after. A few spectators cheered us through the Aldekerk turn and now with the wind on our left shoulders the speed got cranked up a degree or two.

Team fifty nine were the next to succumb to the Apollinaris train but with the wind more behind us the closer we got to Krefeld, further gains seemed unlikely. In fact the Há¼ls bypass put the wind directly behind us and having pretty much missed the ‘climb', our speed crept up to fifty five at one point. Into Krefeld and with the end of lap one fast approaching, we did overhaul both team twenty seven and thirty, the latter clearly surprised as we swished past just after making the last turn of the circuit.

The road was coned off to separate finishers from one lappers, our well oiled machine barely wavering from our chosen line.

‘Herauf, herauf (4)!'

‘Dig in girls!'

‘Go 'pollinaris!'

The shouts were enthusiastic and they always lift me.

“Twenty nine fifty!” Dad hollered as we zipped past.

Not bad but I reckon we can do better this lap.

“Okay?” I huffed on the next pass.

Roni gave a quick nod.

At the hairpin we both came off the tri bars which allowed us to sprint back up to speed before returning to the aero bars. The wind felt stiffer this time, it might just be imagination but there was just no way we could get it even close to fifty. Even at forty to forty five though we continued to take time out of the competition, slowly overhauling team fifty eight as we approached Kempen again.

We started to take shorter turns, almost through and off in fact, as we battled into the headwind on the exposed bypass. By my computer we had about twenty kilometres to go and most of those would have a tail wind of sorts. The longest headwind section up to Aldekerk felt like a right grovel, once or twice our speed dropped below forty!

Despite that we still passed team fifty three going into the village, once through the turn we'll have some kind of tail wind all the way to the finish. More shouts of encouragement then it really was eyeballs out. By now we'd both mastered the art of close formation time trialling and with the speed sat close to fifty five we even passed a couple of kids on their Mofa's(5)!

When the wind slipped directly astern the lift was noticeable and although not fast in motorized terms the sixty kph we reached is darned good on the flat, even if I say so myself! Of course we lost some of the help after Há¼ls but just seven to go we could afford to put everything into it. I did my best to keep our pace up, Ron matched me pedal stroke for pedal stroke, her improvement this season has been phenomenal.

The five to go board really meant it this time and I allowed myself a bit of a grin as the clock was showing just fifty one minutes elapsed. Another pairing fell to Apollinaris on speed before Krefeld hove into view, forty nine, what appeared to be father and daughter having a go — good for them! Then there it was, the kilometre board and beyond the final turn.

“Last push.” I puffed.

“Beat ya to the line.”

“In your dreams.”

We took the corner fast and wide onto the dual carriageway then simultaneously sprinted for the finish line just four hundred metres away. Okay, that's a long sprint and I could feel my legs going by the two hundred board but there is no way Ron's beating me today. There was plenty of shouting, even in our sprint we were tucked close into each other, the red mist was descending and then we were there. Ron slapped me on the back as I sagged over the bars.

“Think, huh, we'll call, huh, it quits.” She gasped.

I'm sure I got it but there wasn't much in it.

With solo riders still starting we were directed into the school car park which is where Dad and Angela caught up with us.

“Great ride girls!” Angela beamed.

“Wha, gasp, what'd, huh.”

“Fifty eight fifty nine!” Dad enthused.

I thought we could do lap two quicker but two balanced laps is pretty good.

“Come on, let's get you changed.”

I took a pull on the bottle Angela had passed me and let Dad push me towards the team bus.

My skin suit, well both of our, were caked with salt, the residue of our efforts and if my bra was anything to go by, disgusting, we had tried. I'm just glad that I picked up a spare BH(6) this morning.

“You look like a panda.”

“I'm not alone.” I pointed out as we headed for the showers.

“Woulda thought you'd have waterproof eyeliner.” Ron noted.

“I don't usually wear it for racing.” I pointed out.

“Maybe we should?” she giggled.

“And maybe we shouldn't.” I moaned.

Yeah I can see her listening to me sometime soon!

1 Krefeld is several kilometres north west of Dusseldorf

2 A big secondary school similar to Silverberg where I attend

3 See http://www.cube.eu/en/road/tria/aerium-hpc/, their bikes look something like this but in Apollinaris colours of cream and blue

4 Otherwise known as up, up!

5 Low powered moped popular as you don't need a licence to ride it!

6 Bustenhalter = bra

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 14.12.2011

Dance, Dance, Dance

The end of term dance, not something you can miss but it's a bit weird too as some people won't be back after the summer, moving on to college or different schools, some even starting work. All my friends will be back but there are people I know who won't so this could be the last time our paths cross.

“Come on , Gab, we'll be late.” Con complained as for the second time I shook a stone out of my sandal.

“It's these flippin' shoes.” I moaned.

“Well you picked them.”

How was I supposed to know they'd be like gravel magnets? I caught up to Con and we were soon at Zum Rebstock where Anna was already waiting.

“Where've you been? Herr Sebenschuh will be here any time.”

“Madam here has a footwear malfunction.” Con opined.

Before the conversation progressed any further the vineyard minibus arrived already loaded with the rest of the girls.

“Nice dress , Con.”

“Ooh , I like that lipstick.”

The conversation on board the bus quickly descended into teen girl frivolity, I bet Herr Sebenschuh was glad to drop us off outside the school! Much to my embarrassment and the others delight Max von flippin' Strechau was apparently waiting for our, my arrival.

“Thought you lot had changed your minds.”

“As if!” Brid guffawed.

“So erm, why are you out here? Waiting for the Strechs?” I hinted.

“I sorta thought we could go together?” Max suggested.

“Come on , ladies, Bond has already pulled!” Pia giggled.

“Guys?”

I might as well have been talking to a kettle, some friends!

“So?” my would be dance partner enquired.

“Looks like I don't get a say, come on then Gung a Din , let's cut a rug.”

“Huh? Gunga dine?”

“Never mind, maybe I'll explain it some time.” I set off in pursuit of my ‘friends', Max trailing behind.

Apart from it being the end of term there wasn't any other theme so everyone was dressed in ‘smart casual', nothing over the top like the American Proms just party frocks which, due to the time of year, were largely of the short, strappy persuasion. Not something I favour of course but I could hardly turn up in cargos and t-shirt could I?

I'm not sure how I got persuaded to buy this scrap of pink floaty stuff the other week but at least it would get one outing before I trade it in. T here's far too much of me on display for my liking, the top is like draped with tiny spaghetti straps and it doesn't hang much below my posterior. As I said, far too much me on display.

There is one thing, with Max in tow it'll put off the other wolves, even as we entered the sports hall I spotted several male faces and interestingly a couple of female ones drop. I might be a boy but that doesn't mean I don't see stuff. Boy ? that's a laugh; strappy sandals and a mini dress do not a man make.

We caught up to the others, Mart was there and a couple of other lads obviously hoping to score at least a dance with an ‘Angel'.

“Come on , Gab, time to shake that booty.” Anna mentioned.

The music was provided by a local mobile DJ outfit, professional and the repertoire promised to be very, erm, German. At the minute it was some vintage but popular euro pop stuff, by past experience there could be anything from The Beatles to yodelling before we are done! I do kind of enjoy my dancing, as long as it's not too slow, the boys seem to like the slow stuff though.

We bopped, hopped, jived and swayed our way through the evening, sometimes singly but Max somehow insinuated himself into position for any slower numbers. He's not such a bad dancer I guess, at least as good as Prince William the other week — not that I'm keeping notes!

“Guh! I'm bushed, where do you get the energy?” he moaned.

“Dynamo Bond!” a slightly warm Connie suggested over my shoulder.

“She is like almost a professional dancer.” Pia giggled.

“Come on, I need a rest too.” Anna put in.

A couple of years on and this school dance is so different to that first one that Gaby attended back in Warsop. I chuckled to myself remembering how I laid into poor old Clive, he really was clueless! Who would've dreamt back then that I'd be here, let alone dressed like this and erm with a boy?

The dance wound up a bit before eleven, poor old Herr Sebenschuh, well I suppose he's not really old, anyway he collected us all up — well he would have but somehow I ended up getting a ride with Marty and Max. I'm still not sure how that happened, one minute I'm waiting to get in the bus, the next I'm sat in the back of Herr Preiser's C-Klasse. It might be July but at this time of night it can still be quite chilly, especially when you are wearing next to nothing.

“Cold?” Max enquired.

“A bit.” I admitted with a shiver.

“Here,” he pulled his jumper off, “you need it more than me.”

“Er thanks.” I allowed pulling around my shoulders.

“You alright back there? Warm enough?” Preiser senior enquired.

“Dad!” Mart hissed.

I let out a little giggle.

“Fine thanks, Herr Preiser.” Max replied.

It's not a long drive up the valley to Dernau and the Mercedes soon pulled up outside Schloss Bond.

“Here we go , Gaby.”

“Thanks , Herr Preiser.”

“No problem.”

I slipped out of the car, the frigid air causing me to shiver.

“Night , Mart, Max, oh your jumper.”

I went to slip it off.

“Hang on to it , Gab, I'm sure I'll get to collect it.”

“Cheers, night.” I was thankful for the loan; it was quite toasty in the late night air.

I fast walked up to the house, fumbling in my handbag for my key on the way. I waved to the Mercedes' occupants once I got the door open, only then did they depart.

“That you , Drew?”

“Yes , Dad.” Like who else would it be? I slipped off my shoes and headed for the lounge.

“Good time?” you could see the disapproval of my outfit in his eyes although he didn't say anything.

“Pretty good.”

“You made the front cover of Die Krefelder. ”

“What's that?”

“The local rag up at Krefeld, you and Ron, full colour on the front.”

“Kewl!” well it's good to get in the press.

“Here,” he passed a bundle of newsprint over, “nice shot too.”

It was too, the pair of us almost side by side, crank position matched, holding almost identical positions; faces in deep concentration, looking almost like twins.

“Wow! We look pretty cool.”

“I'm going to get some copies of that for George and us.”

I never told you did I? Our 58.59 on Sunday was good enough to win by a forty two second margin, not bad eh? Not that we ride for the prizes exactly but the hundred euros each we won won't go amiss! It brought back great memories from my first couple of seasons racing and using the Cube TT bikes was brill.

We were both on a bit of a high for the rest of the day and the restaurant place we ended up at for a late lunch added to the day. I'm sure Dad could tell you the name, it was in this like moated schloss place; made you feel under dressed just looking at it!

It seems strange that the next time we ride the same race could be the World's on different teams, how weird is that? Weird but cool too, well I suppose we'll have to wait and see how that all pans out for me at least.

After the dance the rest of the week was just marking time at Silverberg, when we finally broke out it was something of an anti climax. Of course amongst the Angels — even we are using that now, the upcoming Con in Ká¶ln was the big thing on the calendar. A few weeks ago Steff managed to book us some rooms in a hotel by the showground, not cheap but sharing will keep the cost down some.

Rather than use public transport I managed to convince Dad to take us up in the Apollinaris bus.

"Terminal two." Dave Bond repeated for about the tenth time since they left Dernau.

"Yes , Dad." Drew sighed.

"We'll make sure she gets there , Herr Bond." Anna put in from the back seat.

"Hmm." Dave wasn't entirely convinced given the girl's past record.

"Da-ad!"

"Okay okay, you sure your passport's in the bag?"

"Yes, I showed you remember."

Its not like he hadn't flown before, on his own even but Dad really could be a pain.

"Left, left!" Nena nearly screamed causing Dave to slam the brakes on.

Their accommodation was indeed across the road, the Ibis Ká¶ln Messe; Dave managed to manoeuvre the bus across to the drop off zone where his flock of passengers were soon disgorging.

"Drew," Dave started, "be careful eh and don't let me down Sunday."

"I will, I mean I won't, I'll see you at the airport."

"Here," Dave pressed some notes into Drew's hand, "enjoy yourself kiddo."

"Thanks , Dad." Drew leant over and gave the older Bond an awkward hug.

"Off with you, I've got to go and pick your sister up now."

Drew jumped out and joined the pile of bags and teens waiting for him in the entrance.

"Thanks , Herr Bond!" Connie called out as Dave prepared to rejoin the evening traffic.

"Bye , Dad!"

Dave tooted and waved as he pulled off.

Dave really did have misgivings over this weekend, it was however pretty much the only way that satisfied everyone's needs, Drew's relaxation and Dave's parent / child time.

' I wonder what the girls will have him doing this time.'

“Come on!” Anna beamed as she dragged her case into reception.

“So erm, who's sharing with who?” I hissed to Steff.

“You're in with Con, I've got Anna and the other three are in together, I thought I told you?”

She probably had, but you know me.

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 15.12.2011

Conspicuous

Rooms and luggage sorted out, it was time for some action.

"So, a couple of hours in the city then back to the Messe to register?" I confirmed.

"Sounds good." Steffi agreed.

" Let's do it!" Anna enthused.

We piled out of the hotel and across to the tram stop where we just caught one heading into the centre. You might expect the route to be quite direct but the journey took nearly ten minutes before we hopped off at Neumarkt.

"Anyone know the way to the shops?" Pia asked.

"This map says it's the other side of the square, Schildergasse?"

"Come on then, time's a - wasting!" Anna set off with the rest of us trailing in her wake.

And so started a whirlwind blitz of Ká¶ln's most famous shopping street. I have been before, several times, but today was a different experience, for starters we had arrived at the 'far end' of the pedestrianised zone. Might not seem like much but your perception of the place changes by where you arrive, I barely recognised it.

Ká¶ln being Ká¶ln the street was populated by about fifty percent 'locals' and the balance a cosmopolitan mix of foreigners, Belgian, Dutch, French and British mostly but North American, Italian and Spanish were in the mix too besides the usual flocks of Japanese photographing everything in sight!

"Grockles (1)." I sighed as we negotiated our way past yet another group of dawdling visitors.

"What?" Con asked.

"Grockles, it's what we call sightseers back in England."

"Grockall, I like it" Nen giggled.

By the time we reached the Kaufhaus we'd hit Pimkie, H&M and even Biba as we made our way towards the Dom and River.

"Ot oh, Gaby alert." Con suggested.

"Where?" Anna asked.

Con just pointed across the street to where a light plane was embedded in a shop front.

"Meet you in the Dinea?" I offered.

Like I said, I've been before and behind the aircraft sits the Ká¶lner Spielwaren, the cities best-known toy and model store.

Pia just rolled her eyes, " Fifteen minutes?"

They know me of old and even if it's not a patch on that place Ron took me to last Saturday you have to like , take a look.

"Twenty?"

"You and those plastic cars, you sure you're a girl?" Brid mused.

Leading question there of course.

"Leave her alone, we'll see you in twenty." Anna confirmed.

"You want schnitzel?" Steff asked.

"Sounds good to me."

We went our separate ways and I was soon lost on the top floor, perusing the array of stuff from my favourite model suppliers. Of course I hadn't come to buy anything but, well you kinda have to and inspired by the earlier conversation re 'grockles' an idea came to me for Dad's Chrimbo prezzie. Money exchanged hands and I was only five minutes late getting to the Dinea.

“Told you she wasn't lost.” Pia chortled.

“Well I reckon I still win the bet, I know a Spielhaus bag when I see one.” Steff stated.

“So wotcha buy , Gabs?” Nena enquired.

“Nothing much,” I sat down next to a plate of schnitzel, Rotkohl and fries, “just something for Christmas.”

“Christmas? Its only July!” Bridget exclaimed.

“So I like to plan ahead.”

“No kidding!” Pia joined the fray.

“So? What is it?” Anna asked.

“Here.” I passed the bag over, my food was going cold!

Anna extracted my purchase as I tucked into the pile of food.

“An autobus? Thought you just had cars?”

“‘Old oo, ‘sfor ‘esent.” I got out around a mouthful of Rotkohl.

In case you are interested, which I doubt, it's a model of a touring coach like people go on trips and holidays on.

“So what're we doing after gutso has finished stuffing her face?” Con asked.

“We can go down to the river, walk along to the Dom and cross over to the Messe.” Anna told us.

“Walk?” Pia exclaimed.

“ It's not like it's a long way.” Anna noted.

“Whatever.” Nena sighed in resignation.

I took my time eating that only delayed our departure a further five minutes, soon enough we were back at street level heading down to the river. We ambled along out of the main shopping area, losing most of the foot traffic as we moved further from Schildergasse.

“Hey lets take a look!” Pia suggested.

I hadn't been concentrating but my attention was grabbed. ‘Dieters Festartikel' the sign stated, a look in the window revealed a costume shop, interesting.

And so we trouped inside to survey their wares.

I think I told you about the costume place in Sheffield, well this is on a different level. For starters the costumes aren't for hire, no indeedy these are to buy you see in this area they really are keen on Karneval and everyone has their own. Inside Dieters you can buy everything from wigs and makeup to full on costumes that wouldn't be out of place on the stage.

“I have so got to buy these.” Brid stated brandishing some white hold-ups featuring a red bow front and top.

“And just where are you going to wear those?” Steff enquired.

“I'll think of somewhere, you have to admit they're cute.”

“And nine euros.” Pia put in.

“Nine!” Brid had them back on the shelf in double quick time.

“Oh wow.” Con's voice stated from around the corner.

“Wassup , Con?”

“I am so buying this.”

“What?” I joined her in an aisle full of perá¼cke (2).

“This,” she held up a bag containing a cute red bob, “it'll go great with my costume for tomorrow.”

“Go for it, the green looks good too.”

“That'd clash with my eyes!” she giggled.

“If you say so.”

Over the years Drew had certainly found himself at the wrong end of far too many of his friends 'good ideas'. Not that he seemed to mind too much but there certainly were some hare brained capers.

"You ready yet , Gab?" Anna enquired through the door.

"Er nearly."

"We'll wait for you downstairs then."

"'Kay."

The main door closed with a solid thud and Drew let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He was dressed and ready but he certainly wasn't ready in his head, no he was far from ready on that score. With a sigh he opened the bathroom door and walked back into the main room, plopping himself down onto his bed.

He wasn't even sure why he was in such a fugue; it had descended as he started changing for the first session and left him feeling well out of sorts. Thinking about it it started right after Connie finished telling them about an incident with Bernie at the school dance, shortly before she went back to England.

His phoned chirped from his handbag.

"Mushi mushi!" he forced a cheerful response.

"Ha! So you are awake, come on or we'll miss the next shuttle." Anna huffed.

"On my way." he ended the call, gathered his stuff and headed for the lift.

Whilst the RPG wasn't a pure cosplay event there were a considerable number of players in costumes ranging from Super Mario to Lord of the Rings and everything in between. The girls had decided to avoid specific costuming and so they were wearing a selection of Japanese style school uniforms and gothic Lolita outfits. Having accumulated and somehow kept various outfits over the last couple of years Drew was doing a more than passable Lolita which, in his head at least, was less girly than say Nena's short pleated skirt and sailor style top.

“Pictures?” a spotty youth asked.

“Yeah why not.” Drew agreed, it was after all part of the whole con thing.

He was temporarily on his own, the others having gone ahead while he perused a stall full of imported manga.

“Momo from Kamikaze Girls, right?”

“Er I think you mean Momoko?”

“Yeah that's the one.”

“Not particularly, so how do you want this?”

“Well um…” he clearly wasn't used to this.

“How about I do some poses and you take some pics?”

“Er sure, Freddy, by the way.”

“Gaby.”

Posing for Freddy escalated to a session lasting some twenty minutes as other ‘David Bailey's' (3) joined in asking for different poses. By the time I called it a day I was out of my earlier fugue and ready to enjoy myself.

“Where've you been?” Con asked from beneath her new headgear.

“Just doing a few pics.”

“She was great!” Freddy chirped from behind me.

“Who's this?” Con asked.

“Freddy, he was taking the pics, Freddy, my best friend Connie.”

“Cool outfit Connie!” he enthused.

And so we gained an extra member to Drew's Con Klub! The three of us set off to explore the immense halls that house the RPG event and all its weird and wonderful contents.

1 A not particularly respectful term used by some in the UK to describe a certain class of sightseer - usually the ones walking into your pictures or dawdling on restricted paths!

2 Wigs

3 Famous English photographer of the 60's and 70's

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 16.12.2011

Tour de Farce

We did eventually find the others, but not before another ‘photo session' that once again brought a people jam to Hall 4!

“Where've you guys been?” Con asked.

“Around.” Steff answered a little quickly.

“Oh come on, we've been through all the halls and we haven't even caught a glimpse of you lot, oh by the way this is Freddy.” I stated.

“Hi Freddy!” they chorused, poor sod turned redder than a red thing on red day in Reading.

“Er hi, I um ought to be going.”

“Okay mail me okay?”

“Sure Gaby, I'll send you the photo's, er bye everyone.”

“Bye Freddy.”

“See ya Gab!” and with that he turned and was lost in the crowds.

“There's some brill stuff at the back of Hall 5.” Nena suggested.

“We've not got there yet.” Con noted.

“Like what?”

“Dampf-Punk.” Anna grinned.

“And what exactly is that?” Con voiced the question I was thinking.

“Come on, we'll show you, there's this cool stand where you can like dress up and stuff.” P enthused.

“Gab, you look like uber cool in that!” Brid mentioned.

“If you say so.” I replied, not convinced by what I could see in the mirror.

To the uninformed, me, Dampf-Punk or Steam Punk is a fusion of 19th Century fashion with science fiction gadgetry and additions, think Jules Verne and H.G.Wells. The girls managed to convince me to ‘model' some stuff on the ‘try it' stand so here I am. What am I wearing? Good question!

Let's see now, Victorian style button boots and a kind of saloon girl dress in a tweedy material which doesn't have much at the front! The dominating bit of erm, clothing however is the corset, now I've worn one before, not the most comfortable bit of attire to be sure but this is something else. Not only is it laced but its adorned with a variety of straps and buckles — once inside this you ain't getting out without help!

There is more, various bags, like ancient flying goggles and a Victorian piled on top hair style complete the look. To be honest I'm not sure what to think of the outfit, it is more comfortable than it looks but I can't say that I'd want to dress like this very often.

“Oh come on Gab, you'd look good in an Abfallbeutel!” Steff giggled.

“If you say so.”

“Come on, let's get some pictures.” Anna enthused.

“Come on Gab,” Con sighed, “There'll be no peace until they get their way.”

Con had managed to avoid the er Wild West whore look and was squeezed into brown leather trousers, big boots and another of the apparently essential corsets, hers was in green tartan with a myriad of eyelets and loops for decoration.

“I guess.”

And so I stuck on a grin and the pair of us posed for the girls…and then the stand organizers… and then a bunch of others passing by. It was getting a bit old by the time I was released from my prison and allowed to re-dress in my almost apposite attire.

“Flippin' ‘eck, it's nearly five!” I moaned, sinking into a sofa in the ‘lounge' area — a refuge for the exhausted.

“I'm starving.” Steff observed rubbing her tum.

“Could eat a pferde myself.” Anna agreed.

I slipped my shoes off to massage my sore feet, I'm glad I didn't go with anything with much heel; these low wedges are bad enough after seven hours!

“So what are we doing tonight?”

“Doing?” Pia sounded a bit unsure.

“To eat, there's not a lot of choice here is there?”

“We could eat at the hotel?” Nen suggested.

“I've got a better idea if everyone's up for it?” Anna suggested.

“Which is?” Con enquired.

“A place I heard about near the Dom, I was thinking we could freshen up back at the hotel and then go into the center.”

“As long as there's not too much walking.” I noted.

“Yeah, count me in.” Steff joined in.

“One last whizz around?” Anna then suggested.

We did indeed have one ‘last whizz around' as Anna put it, the others would be back again tomorrow but for me it was with a bit of regret that I wouldn't be.

“You sure this is the right place?” Brid asked as we eyed up the building.

“Positive!” Anna grinned. “Come on.”

She led the way under the sign that announced the place as ‘ Brauhaus Sion'.

“This looks like a pub to me.” I whispered to Con.

“Yeah.” She agreed.

“Ladies?” a stern faced waiter type greeted us inside.

“Table for seven?” Anna queried.

“Sure, this way please.” His face softened to a smile as he led the way through into a dining room. “The corner okay?” he pointed across the crowded room.

“Fine thanks.” Anna agreed.

Once we were settled in Pia mentioned something I'd been thinking about.

“Now I know why you wanted us to dress up.”

“I hope we don't get carded.” I noted.

“Why should we? If anyone looks underage it's you and you're on coke anyway.” Anna whispered.

And so we started an evening of drinking and debauchery — just kidding, in the Sion Brauhaus and enjoyable it was too. It was certainly a bit of a laugh when the American tourists at the next table took delivery of their ‘Grosser Wá¼rst', a full 100cm of German sausage which of course was served on a special wooden platter. I mean it's obvious that it's a joke item on the menu but the clever tourists just have to go for it!

“Come on , Gabs!” Anna squealed when the bus finally stopped.

“I'm coming.”

The three of us tumbled into the airport and headed for the escalator up to the check in desks for Terminal two.

“Better not mention last night to your Dad.” Con opined as we rode up.

“Yeah he might get the wrong idea.” Anna agreed.

“I wasn't planning on it; there he is, down the other end!”

As soon as we cleared the escalator we set off pell mell towards Dad.

Dave was fast approaching the toe tapping stage when not just Drew but Anna and Connie came careering along the concourse in a cacophony of arms, legs and squeals, scattering other travellers as they went.

“Made it!” Connie panted.

“I was starting to get a bit worried.” Dave admitted.

“There was a crash on the autobahn so the bus had to take a diversion.” Anna supplied.

“I did try ringing.” Drew added.

Dave pulled his Blackberry © out, “I didn't hear it go, damn it's on mute.”

“Parents! So much for that plan.” Drew rolled his eyes with a smirk fast creeping across his face.

“I didn't expect to see you two here, where are the others, where's your luggage?”

“We promised we'd get Gabs here so coming with seemed the best way.” Con told him.

“They've got a room at the hotel where you can leave bags; we'll collect them when Pia's dad picks us up.”

“Well thanks for bringing trouble.”

“No probs, see you Thursday Gabs, early shift.” Con grinned.

Drew groaned, he'd forgotten about the bakery.

After a quick hug the girls headed back towards the bus station whilst the Bonds made their way to the check in for their flight to the south of France.

“I told you to make sure you had everything.” Dave hissed at ‘ Juliette '.

“I showed it to you.” Drew whimpered.

“Well be thankful that they accepted the ‘typo' excuse.” Dave couldn't keep up the hard line stance, “ Come ‘ere.”

Drew leant over for a quick hug, not easy in the cramped confines of a 727. In truth the check in clerk had barely blinked at the ‘error', he looked enough like his sister's passport photo to be readily accepted as her.

They'd been perched on a rock near to the summit of the Tourmalet for two hours before the caravan hove into view and all their fellow fans rushed to the roadside to see what freebies they could get. In truth it was largely a load of tot but just being there, collecting the pens, key rings, paper hats and so on is as much part of the Tour experience as watching the riders. The last of the promotional cars passed them followed closely by an official car with loudspeakers blaring.

“What was that?”

“Something about fifteen minutes, my French isn't up to much.”

“I'll see if that guy in the Telekom shirt knows, I saw him in the hotel last night.” Drew suggested hopping back down to the road.

“Excusé moi, er parley English, bitte?” Drew's French was appalling too despite his teacher's best attempts over the years.

“Kleine.” He replied indicating a little gap with thumb and fore finger.

“Ah deutsche!”

“Ja, von Frankfurt kommt.”

“Great! Any idea what the announcement was? Dad and me are both terrible with French.”

“Me too, Josef by the way, but I think they were saying the race is coming.”

“Kewl, I can't believe I'm here! I'll go tell Dad.”

“You are coming down to watch?” Josef asked.

“We were going to stay up on the rocks.”

“Ach! You'll never see anything up there, go fetch your father, I'm sure we can squeeze a small má¤dchen to the front of the crowd, you'll be right with the riders.”

“Really? Um Gaby by the way, I'll fetch Dad.”

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 18.12.2011

Consequences

The trip to France had been brilliant, Dave and Josef hit it off and the pair of them ha d spent both evenings in the hotel bar, Drew occupied himself by wheedling his way into the Tour ‘enclosure' a couple of kilometres along the road . The second day of their visit was a mountain time trial back up the Tourmalet so it was a rare 2-night stop for the caravan.

"So you ready for England?" Dad asked as we headed back to the airport.

"I guess so, could probably do with a few more miles though."

"I think you'll be okay, a few days to adjust to the food and weather and you'll be up and at 'em."

"I hope so." in the back of my mind I'm having some doubts though.

"You'll be fine kiddo, Caroline will look out for you and you're staying with the Peters next week."

"I 'spose."

"I know so, bum, I think we should've turned left."

The rest of the trip home was pretty uneventful, 'Juliette' passed through check in and passport control without issue and all too quickly we were searching for our car at Bonn airport. And search again.

“I'm sure it was on level three.” Dad huffed.

“It's not here now.” I observed.

Dad fruitlessly clicked the key fob again, nada.

“What now?”

“Looks like it's been nicked,” Dad allowed, “guess we need to report it and work out how to get home.”

To be fair, the car park people and police were pretty good and sympathetic; apparently our car had been removed on Sunday, just a couple of hours after Dad left it. It isn't any consolation but we weren't the only victims, two other thefts had been reported in the last week, both Saab's. What can you do? The car park is ‘secure' but there are ways to get around it — bring in an old junker and drive out something, er newer.

We weren't exactly overloaded with cases so rather than hire a car Dad rang Henryck Pinger who agreed to come pick us up. It'd be about an hour so we headed back into the concourse to get something to eat, as it was now eight hours after breakfast.

“Fraulein?”

“Er, oh, um,” I surveyed my options, “that Gulasch?” I pointed at a pan of something vaguely food like.

“It is.”

“Two please, one with rice, one with frites.”

It didn't look any better after it landed on the plate but the rest of the menu was even less appealing. I got some drinks and parted with best part of twenty euros before heading to where Dad was having a slightly heated conversation on the phone. I'd delivered the food, lost the tray and sat down before Dad ended the call.

“Flipping insurance company,” He spat, so what's this?” he went on poking the food on his plate.

“Supposed to be Gulasch, tastes better than it looks.”

“Hmm.”

Understandably he wasn't in the best of humors, I stayed schtum, he'd likely give me an ear bashing if I said the wrong thing.

“Heya , Gabs!” Kat yelled when we got to the short stay parking.

“Hiya , Kat, I didn't know you were home.”

“Exams and the team's riding in Italy too.”

“How is everyone?”

“Same old.”

“You two getting in?” Henryck enquired.

“Yes , Dad.”

We climbed into the Pinger's Passat and started the journey back to the Ahrtal.

“You really stirred things up the other week.” She mentioned after I'd spent ten minutes raving about the last couple of days.

“Other week?”

“You know, when you went out with the team?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, boss man said the team was getting predictable.”

“Just because I guessed what they'd do?”

“If you could, the other teams could.”

“I guess.”

The familiar tones of Drew's phone chirped from his desk.

“Abend.”

“Drew?”

“Mad?”

“Don't you ever check caller ID?”

“Not usually, s'what's up?”

“You.”

“What do you mean ‘you'?”

“You did go to that thing in Cologne the last week end right?”

“You know I did, what about it?”

“There's a report in this month's ‘Cosvention'.”

“So? You would kind of expect it.”

“‘Despite the thousands attending everyone I spoke to was agreed, the best player of the weekend had to be the tiny German girl doing Kamikaze Girls' Momoko.'”

“I never saw her.”

“They're talking about you, dumbo!”

“Me? I'm not German.”

“They don't know that, it's definitely you, you're on the front cover too — nice outfit by the way.”

“Don't believe you.”

“Your computer on?”

“Yeah.”

“I'll scan the cover and mail it.”

Seems that what started off with a few shots for the pimply Freddy had resulted in a thirty-minute session that had blocked up half of one hall. Drew's thoughts had been elsewhere as he blithely posed for the cameras, the picture his cousin emailed to him really brought home to him how others now saw him.

“You want more?”

"Nah don't bother, I'll be there on Sunday anyway."

"Nearly forgot! I'd best brush up on my German."

“If you say so, look I have to go, I'm working the early shift at Thesing's in the morning.”

“Okay.”

“I'll ring tomorrow, tschuss.”

“Bye Drew.”

Why on earth did I volunteer to get up at stupid o'clock to work in the bakery for half the day? Answers on a postcard please. I suppose it is only for a couple of days and the money is always useful — have you seen how much decent mascara costs these days? I slapped the button my alarm to silence the incessant beeping, I suppose it's good that it does wake me so thoroughly, but six o'clock!

A quick shower had me feeling considerably more awake if not in better mood, a quick bit of slap, uniform on and I'm ready. Breakfast I'll get at the shop so at twenty to seven I'm pushing the Schauff out onto the drive.

“Morning Gaby.” Con grinned.

“Urgh, how can you be so cheerful at this time?”

“Practice?”

“We on our own?” I enquired not seeing her parents about.

“Uh huh, Dad's doing the deliveries and M um's having a lie in.”

“Nice for some. I'll get the coffee started.”

And so starts another day of menial labour for yours truly. So okay it's not that bad and it's not like it's heavy work or anything, must be my mood. Of course it might well be, let's see now, one, two, three, oh bum, it really is that time again!

As I'm doing a full shift tomorrow, that's Saturday, the girls and I are going down to the pool at Remagen this afternoon.

“You got everything?” Steff asked seeing me scrumming through my bag.

“Yeah, just finding my purse.”

“She could lose her head if it wasn't attached.” Pia noted.

“A ha!” I brandished my money container.

The Express arrived and we joined a fairly heavy load on the journey down the valley.

“You look a bit green , Gab.” Anna mentioned.

“I don't really feel that good.”

“You sure about the pool?” Con enquired.

“I'll be alright, I've got some painkillers here somewhere.”

“Ah, that sort of unwell.” P stated.

So okay I'm a wimp where this stuff is concerned! To be fair the Doc did say this might happen, I might even get a little discharge but nothing like that time up in Hamburg.

“You going out?” Dad asked.

“Yeah, I thought I'd have a quick leg stretch, doubt I'll get a chance until Tuesday otherwise.”

“Okay, but don't be out too long, we have to leave for the airport at twelve.”

“I know, I'll be back in plenty of time.”

“Just make sure you are.”

“Yes Dad.” I sighed before slipping down to the garage.

My race bike was already in a flight case so I pulled out my training hack, scooted out of the door and turned left to go up past Anna's. It still seems a bit strange that I won't be riding through the vineyards, climbing these hills or chasing the Ahr Express for the next six weeks. I suppose it will give me, and the other squad riders, a taste of a pro rider's life on the road but it is a bit daunting nonetheless.

At least the weather was still dry; the forecast reckoned we'd be getting some liquid sunshine before now. The climb out of the valley is never easy but I made relatively light work of it and was soon heading across the rolling fields towards the Bonn road. I hadn't realised that there was much air moving until I turned towards Altenahr when I felt a decent push from the wind on my back.

As I said I haven't got enough time this morning to go all the way down the new road to the top of Altenahr, besides, the old road is good fun. I flipped across the traffic and clicked up a gear to start winding things up, there's no fun in going downhill slowly! Some traffic insists on using the direct route and I was on the rear bumper of the first before we reached the first hairpin.

There is no way I'm sitting behind this plonker down through all the nice bends, so as he exited the curve I looped past with the knowledge that I can out corner just about anything except a two wheeled Mad Max. It's always useful to be able to corner at speed and knowing the road means it's a bit safer, still you need to keep on the edge to keep the adrenalin flowing. Sprint, pick a line, heave on the brakes, smoothly does it, sprint again and repeat, I counted the corners once, I think it was fifteen before you hit the long straight down into the town.

Another car and a van fell to my cornering speed, up above us I could hear the angry growl of a motorbike as the rider repeatedly braked then revved through each bend - there is no way he's beating me to the bottom! By now the eleven sprocket was already engaged and with the speedo hovering around sixty on the straights, my options for more speed were as much aerodynamic as strength. The last couple of bends were more brake, pedal through, sprint then tuck.

As I pelted out of the last bend I could hear the motorbike braking into it, come on Drewbie, you can do it. With no bends to slow me the speedo got up to seventy five at which point only more mass or a steeper drop would push it upwards. Then there it was, the town sign and the road tilted maybe a degree or two more allowing me to gain that extra five kph to hit eighty.

Now let me tell you, anything much above fifty K gets exciting, on an un-powered machine that contacts the road with a total of maybe four square centimetres, possibly less, eighty is darn right scary! Of course I'll need to drop some speed in a hurry, it goes into a fifty zone at the sign. Determined to beat the funky moped, I kept pressing it all the way, punching the air as I passed the sign at eighty-two kph.

I sat up to use myself as an air brake; at this speed the actual bike brakes are pretty useless so I need to scrub some speed before hitting them. Wheeeeeee! ABS braking then to at least get below the limit. The bright lights of the petrol station caught my attention and with it I spotted the car. Even as I saw her, I could see what she would do, question is, what am I going to do.

Right on schedule she leapt off the forecourt at all of twenty kph, blocking my road space and leaving me few options to avoid a messy impact, shitza!

to be continued....

 © Maddy Bell 19.12.2011