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

---

 

 
'And in other news, the identity of the mystery blonde seen with Prince William on the ski slopes of Davos last week has taken a new and unexpected turn. Stern magazine who ran the story at the weekend have told sources here at the BBC that the young woman appears to be the mystery blonde from the Coburg / Habsburg wedding in Munich eighteen months ago,' Peter Witchell, the news anchor paused as a pair of still photos flashed up, 'it would appear she is a member of the German Saxe Coburg family, maybe we'll find out what their relationship is soon.'

“That looks like Gaby,” Ally suggested to Helen between bites of burger.

Watching the TV news wasn't a regular thing for the teens but it came on between the constant music videos shown in Meadowhall's food court.

“Bond?”
“How many Gaby's do you know?” Al queried.
“Well there was Gabi Vorsteppen at school back in the Nederlands.”
“Hel!”
“Well you did ask, you heard from her lately?”
“We've not exactly been close since, you know, the stuff with Bernie.”
“You could apologise,” Helen suggested.
“Like that'd go down well, 'hey Gab, sorry I was mean to Bernie, can we be friends again.'”
“You could write to her.”
“I think its too late for any of that,” Ally sighed, “so who else we gotta buy for?”
“Gaby? Bernie?” Helen suggested.
“They wouldn't want anything from me.”
“We do it between us,” the other teen offerred.
“Damn, you can be so sensible, go on then.”

 
“Your cousin's on the telly again,” Carol mentioned to her daughter who was busy filling muffin cases – it was all hands to the pumps to fill the Christmas orders, even John had been dragged into making deliveries for 'Carol's Cakes' after he'd got home from work. The TV was usually chattering away to itself as Carol worked, it can be a bit lonely working on your own, the habit hadn't changed just because trouble was helping out today.
“Gaby?”
“When did her sister get on the box, of course Gaby.”
“What's she done this time? Signed a deal for world peace?”
“No need to be sarcastic, they haven't said its her of course, well they don't do they, but she was apparently skiing with Prince William.”
Mad nearly choked, “Gab, skiing? Get off!”
“I think I know your cousin when I see her, you still look like twins,” Carol observed, “you finished putting those muffins out yet?”
“Almost, I can believe the Prince William bit but skiing, nah.”
“Your Aunt said they were going to Austria for some team thing.”
 

“I'm sure thats my grand daughter,” Josie mumbled to herself
“Sorry Jose, I was watching dishy Witchell,” Angela told her friend, “what were you saying?”
“The girl with William, she looks a lot like one of mine.”
“Jenny?”
“Hardly a girl anymore Ang, no her youngest Gaby, that girls got the same look to her.”
“What would your grandaughter be doing with Prince William, Nicky says its some hi faluting German heiress.”
'Yep, sounds like Gaby to me,' Josie thought to herself.

 
“Don't look like the same girl to me,” Big Rodg opined as the lunchtime news concluded.
“Its the BBC, 'course its the same girl,” his viewing companion stated with blind confidence in the national broadcaster.
“Bloody toffs, jettin' all over, skiin' an' that, who's paying that's wot I wanna know.”

It was one of Big Rodg's favourite soap boxes, the lifestyles of the rich and famous, always the same lines, same arguments and same conclusions.

“Give it a rest,” Russ complained, “all you ever do is complain.”
A third voice, that of Russ' girlfriend Kylie, got the mens attention, “so wotcha gonna do about it?”
“Wot you mean, do about it?” Big Rodg asked.
“Do I have to do all the thinkin' round 'ere,” Kylie complained.
“But you're so good at it Kyl,” Russ told her as he pulled her onto his knee.
“I'm serious.”
“So what do we do then girl?”
“We want money right?”
“Yeah,” the two men chorused in agreement.
“So who's got all the money?”
“The banks?” Big Rodg suggested.
“You want to rob a bank?” Russ queried.
“Like in the films,” Rodg went on.
“Not the banks, try again,” Kylie suggested.
“Dunno Kyl, footballers?”

She sighed, neither of her companions were exactly at the front of the queue when the brains were handed out, not that she was any kind of Einstein but at least she knew that.

“Toffs, Nobs, Royals, they're the ones wiv the real dosh.”
“Not footballers then,” Big Rodg pressed.
“Wot you finkin' then Kyl,” Russ asked.
“Ransom.”
“Like kidnapping? You can get banged up big time for that.”
“All them Nobs has security,” Big Rodg observed.
“So we go after one who hasn't,” Kylie told them.

© Maddy Bell 10.05.2019

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

---

 

 
“What do you reckon?” I asked as Mum looked over my efforts.
“Well its okay as far as it goes.”
“But?” with Mum there's always a but.
“It could do with a bit of pizazz, you're selling concerts not sausages.”
“Dad?” I appealed.
Pater reached over looked over my artistry, “you're mother's right kiddo, it looks like a menu for the Zing Vaa.”
“Zing Vaa?”
“Used to be a Chinese in Sheffield,” Mum advised.
“So what do you suggest?”
“You need to get peoples attention, different fonts and sizes, it needs to be eye catching,” Dad told me.
“That's why I did it on yellow.”
“Its on your computer?”
“Yeah,” I allowed.
“Email it to me,” Dad instructed, “and I'll see what I can do eh.”
“'kay,” I agreed, “thanks Dad.”
“Don't thank me yet.”

To be honest art was never my strong subject, oh I can draw a bowl of fruit thats identifiable and there were a lot of worse examples of 'art' in my classes but I'm certainly no Leonardo. My problem, I guess, is that I'm quite literal with it, I can see the flier is a bit, well boring but I can't see how to make it better. Yep, I lack the flair for hard copy – now give me a Cheer routine and I'm your man, girl, woman, whatever.
 

I sent Dad the file and flopped back on my bed, I really should be doing some reading for college but to be honest I'm a bit cream crackered. My Handy chirped from my desk, urgh, what now?

I leant over and grabbed the offending technology, “Bond.”
“Gab?”
“Wassup Con?”
“How'd it go at the Tourist Office?”
“It's a goer, we just have to get the fliers there for next Thursday.”
“You want me to do that?”
“Its all in hand, I'll send you a copy when its finished.”
“You sure? I don't mind.”
“You've got a lot on.”
“And you don't? Okay, anything else?”
“Well,” I pulled my notepad out, “Freddy had some suggestions.”
“Like?” my BF enquired.

And so we spent the next hour going over my earlier tete a tete in Ahrweiler, so much for reading.

 
Mornings at Chez Bond can find either everyone or no one in the kitchen, Mand has usually left for Bonn before I get downstairs, the Rents may be up or not depending on the day's programme. Mum, when she's home is rarely up before I depart but Dad is often knocking about, guess he can't sleep. Anyway, this morning I reached a kitchen devoid of other life forms, Mand has tea in the morning so first order of business is to put the coffee on, I was already assembling my Frühstuck before I noticed the paper propped against the toaster.

There was a note paperclipped to the front, 'hope this okay, Dad'. I slid the note off and checked out the revised flier, in truth it was everything my version wasn't, colourful, bold and eye catching. The wording was pretty much identical but Dad made the whole thing look more appealing, more theatrical, more, well just more. I'd pick it up (well I'm attracted to gaudy things so I would), its brilliant, cheers Dad!
 
I was just clearing up my Nutella® on toast – I'm allowed, when I heard Dad descending from the parental sleeping pit.

“Morning! Coffee?”
“Morning Champ, please,” he confirmed taking a seat at the table, “so what do you think?”

You don't need to be a rocket scientist to work out what he was referring to.

I put his coffee in front of him and gave him a hug, “its brilliant!”
“Well I don't know about brilliant but it might get you a few more punters. I've sent the file over to you so its in your hands now.”
"I owe you for this.”
“Well you can start by putting me some toast in, you got Garde tonight?”
“Yeah, last one before New Year, think we're having a bit of a party.”
“Think or know?”
“Know, Han mentioned it on Monday.”
“So you won't want pizza after?”
Difficult one that, “er maybe?”
“Okay we'll play it by ear then, are you going to college?”
I checked the clock, “sugar!”
 

It was of course another cold, grey, damp morning, well it is December, anything better is a bonus. I wasn't actually late, just a bit behind, I arrived at my pick up point as Olaf's Polo wheezed into view. I really am grateful for the daily ride, the thought of spending an hour and a half on packed trains every morning doesn't fill me with joy.

“You look a bit more cheerful this morning,” Max opined as I put my seatbelt on.
“Its Friday!”
“Good enough for me,” Olaf offered as we set off towards Ahrweiler and the autobahn.
“Not buying it,” Max stated, “there's something else.”
“Okay, the Tourist Office are behind the concerts.”
“That's good,” he interrupted.
“If you'd let me finish, they're supporting it and Dad's done a real pukka flier to promote them.”
“Pukka? What's that?” Olaf asked.
“Some English thing,” Max told our chauffeur, “think Schön right Gab?”
“Something like that,” I agreed.
“So when do we see this masterpiece,” Freddy enquired.
“I've only got the original as yet,” I dug into my bag and retrieved Dad's sample, “it'll be on proper glossy paper when its printed.”
“Nice,” Max allowed before passing it forward.
“Didn't know you were an artist Gab,” Freddy mentioned.
“Yeah well,” I demured.
“Very professional,” Olaf added.
 
As Dad had emailed the flier to me I was able to forward that onto Con from one of the college computers, a quick SMS let her know i'd sent it. I was quite surprised to get a reply barely fifteen minutes later.

'Mum says its okay, taking to printer this pm'

Well thats good at any rate.
 
“How's the arm?” Max enquired when I joined him at the bottom of Lahnstraße a couple of hours later.
“Bit sore,” I admitted.

Actually it has been hurting like hell all week, the slightest pressure on it and there's shooting pains right up my arm. But us cyclists are made of stern stuff, I'm not going to show weakness by admitting it hurts that much am I?

“Give us your bag, by the look on your face its a bit more than sore.”

Am I that easy to read? But who am I to look a gift horse in the mouth?

“Go on then, we doing Dinea?”
“Thought you wanted a burger?”
“Changed my mind, so?”
“Okay,” he sighed.
 
“So you know what you're doing over Weihnachts yet?”
“Think Dad's still checking out flights and stuff, you eating that salad?”
“Eh, no, its yours if you want.”

well duh, course I want, I wouldn't have mentioned it otherwise, men! I pulled the dish over and added it to my plate of Roulade and croquets – bit of a weird combo I know, gravy and salad but it all ends up in the same place right?

“So, you all organised?”
“Um?”
“Presents and stuff, you got everything?”
“Almost, last couple of bits, you know.”

Do I! Its tradition for Dad's to get socks and slippers – me and Jules take it in turns, but you can hardly give your boyfriend either of those. I've been looking around for weeks for something suitable, its not like he's really into sports or a particular band, well maybe BlauHase. Hopefully he'll like what i've settled on – providing it arrives in time, we finish college on Wednesday, I don't want to have to make a special journey after that to collect it.
 

There is one advantage to using the Express with Max, we can usually find a seat where we can, well you know, do the kiss and cuddle bit, nothing too outrageous of course but we don't get much chance any other time.

“Come on you two,” Myleen chivvied as we emerged from the underpass onto Gleis 5.
“There was a hold up at Andernach,” I mentioned.
“I heard,” Myleen looked sober, “someone jumped in front of the southbound Express.”
“Sugar,” I allowed.
“Indeed, come on, or Artur will leave without us.”

We preceded Myleen on board, the train was moving before we found a pair of seats in the rear carriage.

“I wondered why there were so many police,” Max mentioned.
“Why would someone do that?”
“Desperation?” he suggested.
“I guess, bit messy though.”
“Well its not like you'd know anything about it is it, bam and your spread all over the bahn.”
“The poor driver,” I noted, “they must be in a bad way after that.”
“Its not like they could stop the Zug,” Max pointed out.
“That doesn't make it any better,” I pointed out.
 
I'm not sure why they call it the Ahrtal Express, its the only service up the valley and it stops at every stop apart from a couple of journeys that only go up to Dernau. In reality you can drive up to Ahrbrück quicker than the train most of the time, its not even much quicker than me on my bike. Not that i'd propose biking up from Remagen especially in the middle of December.

“You want a lift down tomorrow?” Max asked as I gathered my stuff to leave the Express after leaving the Silverberg halt.
“Not sure, ring you in the morning?”
“Okay.”

We exchanged a last liplock and I headed to the doors to leave the train at Dernau.
 

“Wotcha,” Mand greeted as I entered the kitchen a few minutes later.
“Heya, you're home early.”
“Yeah, your Dad fetched me, there was a jumper down the line somewhere, all the southbound treains were cancelled.”
“It was at Andernach, we came past at a crawl.”
“Nasty, I was just making a brew, you want one?”
I might be a bit of a coffee snob but I still like a good cuppa, “as long as you aren't making that revolting green stuff.”
“It is not revolting, its very refreshing.”
“If you say so.”
“Anyway I'm making Yorkshire*.”
“Excellent, what are you working at the market tomorrow?”
“I'm not, i've got paid work with the Foch's, we're doing the market at Bruhl with the crepe stall.”
“Leave us in the lurch.”
“Hardly,” she pointed out.
“Just kidding.”

In truth I was a bit jealous that she'd be earning, with the kiosk closed and no holiday coaches at the Sebenschuhs I'm not getting any income, clearly we don't take a wage from the Weihnachts stall. Okay, its not like I'm broke, I get my allowance and i've got a fair bit in the bank but its nice to have some extra coming in to cover the little luxuries. I'm not really sure of how Mand is financed since she lost her BC backing, I do know she's on a pretty tight budget, I try not to push my comparative wealth in her face but its not always easy.
 
I didn't do the Garde party last year, we were at that BLCA thing over in England, guess my change of allegiance blocked a repeat invite despite my double world titles! Anyway, thats by the by, back to the party, its sort of funded by the Tanzklub – to the extent of supplying soft drinks and a couple of trays of finger food. Not much of a party really so we've all 'donated' five euros to fund more food – you can get quite a bit for a hundred euros!

I could've got a lift up to P's but I thought i'd save my transport points for a more needy occasion, as a result I found myself hiking up to Rech in a too skimpy frock hidden under my big coat, sandals in my Handtasche, wellies on my feet. At least its only up to the Stube, Dad's running taxi home and I think Ingrid, Pia's sister is taking us up. I shivered as the wind found its way to my fundament, I really should've worn trousers or at least leggings at least to get to the Sebenschuh's.

Its not a long walk but long enough for me to become lost in thought, thoughts of the last twelve months in particular. It really has been quite a year, of course the outstanding thing has been my successes in Kanada but there's so much more, the Kiosk, the unexpected exam results, my change of allegiance. Yep its been quite a twelve months, I wonder what next year will bring?
 
“Making a fashion statement Bond?” Ing snorted when I arrived at the winery.
“Ha de har, I was hardly gonna walk up here in sandals was I.”
“Ignore her Gab, she's been snarky all week,” Pia told me before whispering, “boy troubles.”
“I am not having boy trouble,” Ingrid snapped.
P grabbed my elbow and dragged me through into the house, “i take it you have brought shoes?”

Anyone would think I forget stuff.

“The purple sandals.”
“With the glitter?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“Here,” she thrust a glass into my hand, a glass containing something that looked suspiciously like alcohol.
“What's this?”
“Schnapps and lemonade, there won't be any alco at the Klub, what sort of party doesn't have booze?”

A sober one?

I shrugged, “whatever,” and took a sip of the slightly viscous liquid.
“You changing shoes here?” P enquired as she attended to her own hose and footwear.
“Er yeah,” I allowed with a slight grimace, I'm not sure if the drink is sweet or bitter but it certainly has a bite.
“You two gonna be long,” Ing asked from the hallway, “some of us have got to work tonight.”
“Best not keep her waiting, she's been in a right strop since Monday, Mattius broke up with her – not that they were ever really a couple.”

I pulled my boots off, what is it with wellies, you struggle to get them on then you have to fight to extract yourself. It was a bit easier with hose on, my feet popped out of the socks and I almost slipped off P's bed in surprise. It took me a minute to sort out the spaghetti of straps on my sandals – I don't wear them very often and I forgot just how uncomfortable they are!

 
I felt distinctly under dressed when we walked into the Tanzklub, I mean, I've got on a nice party frock, Mand put my hair up for me and i've got more slap on than usual but for a dance club only party for a bunch of girls, some of my teammies had gone overboard. You'd think they were going clubbing in Bonn or Köln, big heels, short dresses, loads of makeup, big hair – they made me look like an old maid! It was even more of a shock as i've only ever seen most of them at the Klub in exercise gear or in full on Garde.
“Gaby!”
“Solde?”
 
Well despite it being a Hen only affair, Hannah had been strict about that, it wasn't too bad. Fran had borrowed some CD's from her brother- apparently he does some DJ-ing, so we had a good selection of current and more classical disco type stuff. Whilst this is the Garde section, it is a dance club and some of the gyrating was pretty – well maybe not for parental consumption!

The supplementary food that Hannah got turned out to be pizza (what else?) and a variety of gateaux and torte. It was a bit of a balancing act, eating and dancing, it could so easily end up quite messy, the two don't exactly go that well together. Despite my earlier trepidation I found myself enjoying it, no one (so far) wanted me to sing, everyone was jut doing their thang.

“Gab,” Solde mentioned from behind me, “you coming to Remagen?”
“Remagen, what for?”
“We're going to Trixies, you didn't think we got all glammed up for this did you?”

Of course, Trixies is the club night they have at the pool, well the sports hall, not been myself but I think Bridget and Steff go sometimes.

“Course not,” well I'm hardly gonna admit it am I?
“The bus will be out front in five minutes if you're coming.”
“Right.”

“You going to Remagen?” Pia asked a minute later.
“Not sure, you?”
“Hell yeah!” she enthused.

I was torn, party with my friends or do the adult thing and go home watch telly and eat more pizza. I flipped my Handy open.

“Dad?”
“I'll be leaving in a few minutes, you want pizza?”
“No, look some of the girls are going on to some place in Remagen, I was gonna go with?”

It wasn't long but the pause was there nevertheless.

“Where?”
“Trixies, its at the pool?”
“How're you getting back?”
“Not sure, taxi?” I suggested.
“You've got money?”
“Is that a yes?”
“It's a yes, you are nearly seventeen after all, I'm trusting you to be sensible, I take it Pia is going too?”
“Uh huh,” I allowed.

* yep GOC has its own tea, now available across the land for expats and tea lovers alike!
 
© Maddy Bell 11.05.2019

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

---

 

 

Look, we're teenagers right and even if Trixies is supposed to be alcohol free – well, like I said before, we're teenagers. I think its also a good idea to leave everything that went on in Trixies there so I'm not going to say anymore other than there were some cute lads there. Having missed the actual organisation of the Garde 'outing' I was a little relieved to find the bus waiting to return us up the valley when we emerged into the now frigid December night a little after twelve.

Of course, despite my earlier admonishments, I did have the presence of mind to ring and cancel the Dad taxi, when I arrived back at Chez Bond both my parents were waiting for me.

“Good night?” Mum enquired.
“Pretty good yeah.”

Dad gave me one of those looks, you know the one, it'll make you feel guilty for doing nothing.

“They only had soft drinks.”

Mum snickered, I mean she's a grown woman.

“Okay, Franny smuggled a bottle in,” I admitted.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” Dad asked as I finished untangling the spaghetti of straps on my feet.
“Afternoon shift at the market, not sure about the morning, guess it depends on the weather.”
“Up and dressed for half eight then,” he announced.
“What for?”
“You'll see,” Mum added.
“And wear something warm,” Dad instructed.

'Something warm, he didn't say bike kit so its not some training thing – probably going to the timber yard or something, he was yammering about building a summer house the other week. Tonight was pretty good, I'm glad I wasn't wearing heels though, my feet are still killing wearing sandals. 'S a good job Max won't get to hear the full details, hmm, must remember to ring him in the morning.' I drifted off into the sleep of the dead.
 

“You look terrible,” Mand noted when I slunk into the kitchen.
“Thanks friend!”
“I take it that you had a good night,” she smirked.
“There wasn't any booze,” I told her pouring myself a coffee, “where's Dad?”
“Your mum wanted some Brotchen so he's taken her to Thesings.”
“She coulda walked.”
“You seen it out there? Its persisting down.”

I looked out into the gloomy morning, yep the wet was falling in a steady curtain.

“So what time you out?”
“Got to be down at Der Muhle for eight thirty, bum, I need to shake a leg.”
“You're gonna get drowned,” I noted.

The kitchen door opened and my parents hurried inside.

“You're up then,” Dad mentioned.
“Of course," I beamed back cheerfully.
“You want a lift down Amanda?” Mum queried.
“Yes please.”
“Well get yourself sorted, I'll drop you down while Gab is feeding her face.”
“Huh!”
“Just need to get my bag, thanks Jenny.”
“There any coffee left kiddo,” Dad enquired.

And so the third weekend of Advent started.
 

“Where are we going?”

After Mums mercy mission with Mand we finished breakfast quickly and Dad had us out in the Saab a little after eight forty.

“Andernach,” Dad told me over his shoulder.
“Andernach? Whatever for?”
“You'll see,” Mum intoned.

It might be one of the bigger towns on this bit of the Rhein, complete with medieval walls and a compact little shopping centre, but its not somewhere i've been often. Well the train goes through on the way from Koblenz of course but that hardly counts does it? I racked my brain for reasons why my parents would take me there and came up blank – oh well, I guess I'll find out when I get there.

We took the autobahn, well its not exactly a day for sightseeing along the river – and of course its a lot quicker. As the morning progressed towards nine thirty the wet eased to a finer drizzle, not pleasant but at least the wipers didn't need to be on turbo setting! We dropped off the motorway and headed the couple of kilometres towards the river and the mucky sprawl of the south of the town.

Just before we reached the town Dad turned off and shortly we pulled onto the forecourt of what was clearly a motorbike dealer.

“Why're we stopping here?”
“You want a Christmas present?” Mum posed.
“Er yeah,” I cautiously replied.
“Well thats why we're here, to sort it out,” she told me as she released her seat belt.

"Does that mean?"
“Urgh!” Dad managed.
“Thank you Daddy!”
“What about me?” Mum asked.

I transferred my stranglehug to Mum.

“Thanks.”
“Come on then, Michael's expecting us.”

We exited the car and quickly entered the showroom of Hubner Motorrader, it wasn't huge, there were probably about twenty assorted motorbikes inside, not dissimilar to some bike shops i've been in. I guess that's not such a surprise, even I know that there used to be some crossover between petrol and human powered two wheeled transport. To be honest I was a bit intimidated, everything I could see was huge with lots of shiny chrome and enormous tyres – I wouldn't be able to ride one of these if I wanted to.

“Come on Gab,” Mum encouraged.
“Er coming.”

I trotted up to my parents who were just being greeted by a middle-aged chap who I assume is Michael.

“Here she is,” Dad stated, “trouble on two wheels.”

Parents!

“Da-ad,” I complained.
“I don't believe that for a moment, nice to meet you Gaby, so shall we go and look at your new steed?”

Oh yeah! Michael led the way back past the counter and through into what appeared to be the workshop, where something was stood, covered by a bit of tarpaulin. I was nearly fizzing with excitement as Dad helped Michael remove the cover from my very own Mofa!

“It's pink,” I exclaimed.
“What did I say,” Mum intoned to Dad.
“A problem?” Michael asked.
“Nope,” I declared, “its perfect!”

Well okay, I wouldn't've picked pink myself but other than that, well call me a girl but I homed in on the basket on the back and the neat little stripes along the side. Much like my sister's example its styled like a scooter, think Lambretta with a tiny engine hidden under the seat, unlike Max's example which looks more like a moped. I went straight over and started investigating everything, this was no bargain basement machine, proper suspension, disc brakes, even twin headlights.

“So,” Mum interrupted my exploration, “pass muster?”
“Yes please!”
“You have to wear a helmet and do the training course.”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“Your Dad and me will do the insurance and maintenance but you pay for the petrol.”
“Thanks Mum!” I hugged her again.
“I guess it meets with approval then,” Dad opined from where he was watching with Michael, “even if it is pink.”
“Shall we sort out a bone dome then,” Michael suggested, “i think i've got one to match the bike.”
“I am not wearing a pink helmet,” I stated vehemently.
“I'm sure Michael has something less controversial,” Dad mentioned.

We returned to the showroom where Michael was soon pulling boxes from his display, boxes containg all manner of head protection. Its not something i'd given a lot of thought to, cycling helmets, once you've sorted the size out, are, lets face it, all pretty similar, a lump of polystyrene that you strap onto the top of your head. Motorcycle helmets however come in a variety of styles from the full Darth Vader to something akin to, in looks at least, a horse riding hat.

I was drawn to the full face things but after trying one on swiftly changed my mind. Well for starters it was like pushing your head into a bottle and then it weighed a ton, the final decider was that I looked ridiculous in it, Mum could barely contain her mirth. Eventually I settled on a 'three quarter' style with a peak, it offers all the protection but leaves my face clear and to be realistic I race my bike faster than the Mofa's top speed so a full face would be a bit overboard.
 
“So I'll get the registration sorted on Monday and Jancis will drop everything off on Tuesday,” Michael concluded.
“Excellent,” Dad replied, “thanks for your help Michael.”
“My pleasure.”
“Can we take the helmet now?” I asked.
“Sure,” Michael grinned.
“Daddy?”
“If you want.”
“We'd best make tracks Dave,” Mum interrupted, “we need to get someone to Altenahr.”

Oh sugar, in my excitement I forgot to ring Max about a lift. We bade our farewells and left Hubner's with my helmet for the drive back home. Once secured I retrieved my Handy to find i'd missed three calls from Max while i've been drooling over my new Mofa, I hit speed dial seven.

 
“You going to be warm enough?” Mum asked as she put my hair into some semblance of Germanic braid.
“We are inside,” I pointed out.
“Even so.”
“I've got dance tights on,” I told her, pulling my dirndle up to show her my nylon encased legs.

Its a 'trick' I discovered on that exchange trip to America, dance hose are like two hundred denier so they keep you a bit warmer whilst your legs look bare, well ish. Brilliant for Cheer and the Garde wear them in a darker shade too, its not rocket science to extend their use to Kostum, especially in December.

“Hmm,” Mum allowed, “okay, all done.”
“Thanks.”
“So, we'll pick Manda up first then collect you and Max after, have you put out what you're wearing tonight?”
“The D and G?”
“Okay.”
“Its too much isn't it?”
“Maybe tone the heels a bit,” Mater suggested.

I had thought about that, it is after all dinner at the Schloss not a fancy do at the Spa.

“'kay.”

Beep, Beep.

“That'll be Gloria,” I grabbed my Apollinaris ski jacket, well its warm, and headed for the door,” see you later.”

 
“You're looking happy,” Max opined as we walked through to the market a few minutes later.
“Am I?”
“Sorry about tonight.”
“What for?”
“Exposing you to dads culinary efforts.”
“You're dad is a great chef,” I pointed out.
“But he insists on cooking for everyone,” Max moaned.
“Well I'm not complaining.”
“That's not why you're smiling though.”
“Nope, you'll have to guess.”
“You won the lottery.”
“Nope,” grinned performing a little skip, geez I'm turning into such a girly girl.
“Dunno, give up.”
I decided to give him a clue, “it involves a helmet.”
“You're going caving?”
“Caving? Don't be daft, its my Weihnachts gift from the rents.”
“One way ticket to Peru.”
“Ha har, I'm getting a Mofa,” well I'll burst if I don't tell someone soon.
“Ah, cool I think.”
 
At least the rain had cleared but that in turn left things damp and cold, with Manda away making crepes, Pauline, one of Boxxies 'recruits', was put onto the Raclette grill for the afternoon. Its not rocket science of course, bread, cheese, maybe a bit of Speck, stick under the grill for a couple of minutes et voila. Con had come down earlier – something about Weihnachts presents, so we'd convened at the stall.

We'd been going for about thirty minutes before we got a chance to talk.

“Spill Bond.”
“What?”
“You've been humming to yourself since we got here with that daft grin on your face.”
“I've not been humming.”
“You have,” Pauline interrupted, “some old stuff my parents play.”

Ouch, thats told me.

“So what is it Bond?” Con pursued.
“We went to a moto store this morning.”
“Oh my God, you've got a Mofa!”
“Yep!” I confirmed grabbing my BF for an impromptu jig.
 
“Thought you said you didn't want anthing that was pink,” Con observed after i'd enthused about my new wheels for best part of fifteen minutes.
“My helmet is white and it looks well cool.”
“So you keep saying,” Con noted with a roll of the eyes.
“Soz.”
“I suppose you'll be off all over now then?”
“Not really but it'll be easier to go see Bernie and get to the TanzKlub without having to sort out a lift.”
“Maybe I'll look at getting one in the Spring.”
“Thought you were going to get your auto licence?”
“I am, but it'll be ages before I can get a car.”

Well thats true enough, whilst you can get a clunker for like five hundred, by the time you add in insurance and road tax - in that context a Mofa gets you motorized for much less.
 
The Kabin did good business again, we had to send Frannie to buy more Rye bread for the Raclette and the cake cabinet was severly depleted too by the time we wrapped stuff up.

“You need a ride back up?” I asked Con as we finished the clean up.
“I was hoping you'd ask.”

Why wouldn't I?

“They should be here in about ten minutes.”
“Cool, what're you doing tonight, polishing your helmet?”
“Out for dinner at the Schloss,” I sighed.
“What's up with that?”
“Max's Gran, you'd think me an' Max were engaged or something.”
“And that's bad because?” she queried.
“Not you too,” I grumped.
“Its not like you're seeing anyone else is it?”
“I just might be.”
“Gaby Bond, you are a terrible liar,” Con noted.
“But what if I was?”
“If you were, everyone in the valley would know, you can't sneeze without everyone knowing.”
“You two done,” Max queried from the door.

Oh sugar, I forgot we've already got a full car.
 

“And don't be all night,” Mum admonished as I clattered up to my eyrie.

Con got her ride back to Dernau, I spent the five minute journey on Max's knees which was nice in one way but not exactly comfortable.
 
Of course I was the last one back to the lounge, well I had to get out of my dirndl, free my hair from the braids, shower, dress and get my hair back into some order.

“Nice,” Max mentioned with a waggle of his brows.
“No touching before dinner,” Mum told us, “you leaving that thing in your nose kiddo?”
I squinted at my nostril and seeing the tiny gold hoop replied, “won't be a mo.”

A short visit to the downstairs facilities had my more appropriate tiny diamond fitted in the ring's stead, although it wasn't my idea to do it, I feel lost without anything adorning my schmozz.

“We all ready?” Dad asked looking very dapper in his Kostum jacket.
“I think so,” Mum proposed with a look at me.
“Yes!” I told them.

There was no knee sharing this time, Max was up front with Dad, I got to sit between Mand and Mum. Probably as well, this frock is not exactly long in the leg, with the slinky hose I couldn't keep my hands off! Urgh, thats just wrong.

I only discovered when we arrived that we weren't actually eating in the house tonight but in the restaurant, I didn't feel quite such a plonk in my finery with a wider audience to see it. Not that we went directly there, no we found ourselves ushered into the drawing room for aperitifs by Gloria where to my dismay Gran was waiting along with Gloria's sister, Catherine, the Countess Schillingfurst. Bum, bum!

“Gaby,” Gloria addressed me, “would you mind doing the introductions, I need to powder my nose.”
“Erm, sure. Mum, Dad, this is the Countess Shillingfurst, your Grace, my parents, Jenny and Dave Bond.”
“Gaby, its nice to see you again, Jenny, Dave, please call me Catherine, I don't do with all the pomp when its just family.”

Just family, we only have the odd snog!

 
© Maddy Bell 13.05.2019

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

---

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Leave the poor girl alone.”

My saviour was unexpected, the Countess' mother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

---

 

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

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

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

She's right of course, I'm not exactly the most together of people, as Gran puts it, I'll forget my head one of these days! I do actually know where my passport is, I think, although I don't actually need it to go to the UK as I can travel on my ID card which i've done in the past. I guess it wouldn't hurt to know where everything is for certain.
 

“Whats up with you?” Max asked as Olaf's Polo crawled along the autobahn, the traffic being unusually heavy this morning, “you're either bouncing or miserable as sin lately.”
“Am not,” I shot back.
“Whatever, so what are you doing later?”
“Apart from Cheer and packing for England?”
“Apart from that.”
“Dunno, should I be doing something?”
“Only if you want to.”
“What have you got in mind?”
“Dunno, go get a burger or something?”
“Last of the romantics,” Freddy chortled.
“And you'd know, didn't you take Bridget to the Kebob shop the other week?”
“It was her choice.”
“She never said anything,” I mentioned.
“It was only food,” Fred pointed out.
“So, burger Gab?” Max prompted.
“When?”
“I could pick you up from the TanzKlub.”
 
Unlike Friday with Garde we aren't having a party at Cheer, instead the girls voted to go for a meal in the New Year, out of season so to speak. That means that tonight is just a usual training session and my usual lift buddies, Pia and Mand are both working a party at the Stube – I had to pass the work up as I'm supposed to be in charge of the All Stars.

“Go on then.”
“Yes!”
“I can't be out too late, i've got stuff to sort for England.”
“We can eat then go back to yours.”
“Watch it Gab, he'll have his feet under the table before you know what's happening,” Olaf opined as we inched forward, I'm guessing there's an accident or something.

 
“...and don't forget we need your completed placement questionnaires before the recess,” Herr Liebemeyer finished, “have a good Weihnachts and I'll see you all in two thousand seven.”

I was as glad as anyone that we were done with Herr Liebemeyer's accountancy classes until the new year, we usually have him on Thursday and Friday as well but like we finish Wednesday this week.

“Glad thats over,” Hildie allowed as we gathered our stuff.

Hild, thats Brunhilde Schöning, often shares a table with me in Accounts.

“Its not that bad.”
“So says our resident genius, some of us aren't quite as gifted.”

i've had my exam results thrown at me before – the whole 'best of the Eifel' thing, I still can't work out how I scored so high.

“So you going to the social Wednesday?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
“Not sure, you?”
“I've got a tutorial in the morning so I'm here anyway.”
“I forget you live out in the sticks.”
“Dernau, throbbing toe nail of the Eiffel,” I chuckled.
“Pretty toe nail if you're there.”
“Hardly, I'm the ugly sister.”
“And I'm Claudia Schiffer.”

Don't get me wrong Hild is far from ugly, plain maybe but not exactly model material – well she make's about twice me.

“Nice to meet you Claudia,” I joked.
“So what're you doing for Weihnachts,” she asked as we headed towards the common room.
“Spending it with my Oma.”
“Just you? Thought you'd be doing stuff with your boyfriend.”
Me too. “nah just the family, we fly out on Friday for a week.”
“Fly? Where's your gran live?”
“England.”
It was clearly a lightbulb moment for her, “thats right, your parents are from Ausland aren't they?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed, I don't think she quite got that that made me English too.
“So do you speak good English then?”

Talk about a head slap!

“I get by, you must've passed your certificate though,” I pointed out.
“Only just.”
“Me too, i had to do some remedial classes in the summer.”
“Now that sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
She made a slight chuckling noise, “you've got to admit though, its a bit ironic given your parents.”
Yeah, a proper barrel of laughs, “i guess so.”

 
you wouldn't think we're like a week away from Christmas, Lisbet set us an essay to do over the break so guess where I was for most of the afternoon – yep the library. I actually got quite a bit done – well I don't intend slogging over it during the holiday any more than I have to, I did have to leg it to catch the northbound Express. Well I guess I could've caught the next train but i've got stuff to do, like decide what to wear for our date tonight.
 

“You found that passport yet,” Mum asked as I sorted out my washing – she might've put it through but I still have to fold it and so on.
“Its on my desk.”
“Give it to your Father before you go out.”
“Anyone would think you don't trust me.”
“I wonder why that would be?”
“It wasn't my fault.”

She was of course referring to that trip to the Tour de France the other year when I picked up Jules passport instead of mine. I know I'm blonde and I can be a bit of a ditz but its not always my fault.

“Hmmm. What time are you finished at the Klub?”
“Oh I meant to say, Max is picking me up, we're going for a burger,” don't give her any wiggle space and cross everything.
“Don't be late.”

What? No arguing?

“Er we won't, its only a burger, I thought you were gonna veto it.”
“And what would that achieve kiddo? You end up resenting me and throwing a strop, I get upset, no one wins. You're nearly seventeen, we should be able to trust you, hell, your sister was just about living with Boris at you're age, I know you're Dad didn't care for that much, can't say I was keen myself.
Anyhow thats your sister, we're talking about you, I know we've had a few 'moments' this last couple of years but you've proved yourself to be sensible and we're all very proud of you. I know it doesn't always seem like it but we do trust you, really we do, but you'll always be my baby.”
she pulled me into a hug.

“Mu-um,” I complained as a tear wet my cheek.
She pushed back, “just be sensible eh?”
“So I can get that tattoo of Godzilla?”

She swatted at me.

“You ready Gab?” Dad called through which broke the moment.
“Just got to finish this.”
“Get on with you,” Mum told me, “i'll finish this.”
“Thanks Mum.”
“And remember what I said.”
“I will,” I gave her a quick peck on the cheek before almost skipping out to where Dad and Mand were donning coats.

Good idea Bond, I dived into the cloakroom to retrieve my ski jacket – and my new Mofa helmet.

“What've you got that for?” Mand asked as we went out to the Saab.
“To keep my head warm?”
“I'm guessing you don't need collecting?” Dad posed, obviously guessing why I was carrying the helmet.
“Er no, Max is collecting me,” I admitted.
“Well be careful,” he advised beeping the car open.

We climbed inside, I claimed the front seat as Mand is only going as far as Rech.
 
“Just remember what I said,” Dad told me a few minutes later as I untangled myself from the seat belt.
“We have ridden before,” I pointed out.
“And look what happened then.”
“That hardly had anything to do with Max's riding,” I pointed out, “oh, Mum said you wanted my passport, its on my desk, next to the keyboard.”
“Okay, enjoy yourself.”
“I will, laters!”

 
“Hot date?” Han suggested as we got ready to vacate the TanzKlub.
“Eh?”
“Well you don't usually dress up for practice,” she pointed out.

I guess compared to my usual sweats and stuff I am dressed up, but honestly, you can hardly call, jeans, jumper and ankle boots dressed up can you.

“Date yes, hot, not so sure, we're going for a burger,” I told her.
“Must be serious if you've got your own helmet,” she motioned towards my new head gear.
“My parents have bought me a scooter for Weihnachts, thought i'd break the helmet in tonight.”
“Not literally I hope.”
“Don't.”
“Sounds like the hunk in question now.”

Sure enough the distinctive putt, putt of Max's Mofa sounded from the tunnel down from Altenahr.

“See you in the Neu Jahre,” Han mentioned.
“Yeah, Frohes Weihnachts!”
She left for her car and I turned to Max, “where've you been?”
“Flippin' stables, said i'd check on the new foal.”
“Didn't know you had one,” I allowed as I seated my helm.
“Born last week.”
“Surprised your mum didn't say on Saturday.”
“Think she was a bit distracted with sorting Gran out, nice hat, guess you don't need this,” he said shaking his spare helmet at me.
“Nope,” I grinned.
“Well come on then, BK in Neuenahr okay?”
“Fine by me,” I agreed climbing up behind him.

 
Its a good job that its downhill from Altenahr, Mofas aren't fast at the best of times, with a passenger, well think brisk walk. But who's bothered, we aren't walking, we're not using a parent taxi, we're independent adults – ish. We used the bike track most of the way, well the cars can be a bit fast on the main road and the lights on Max's machine are not the best – legal yes but not exactly a Tivoli display.

We eventually got to the BK after something like forty five minutes, the bouncing around having played havoc with my bladder I headed straight to the ladies!

“Phew, thats better.”
“What do you want?”

To be honest BK isn't as regular a stop as even Maccy D's so I'm not as familiar with the menu so I stood trying to make a decision for at least a full minute.

“Royale Menu with cheese?”
“'kay, go sit, can you take my helmet?”

I felt like a biker moll sat at the table, our helmets at one end – the illusion might last until we got outside to our steed. The place wasn't exactly busy which meant our food was essentially cooked to order so it was a few minutes before my knight in leather and denim arrived bearing the vittals.

“Royale with cheese, pommes, salad and Root Beer, oh and winter pie,” he unloaded in front of me.
My eyes were on stalks, “thats a lot of food.”
“No kidding,” he agreed, “i'm sure you're up to it though.”
“I'm not complaining, not had Root Beer since Kanada, what've you got?”
“Double King and onion rings.”
“That's got those slimy mushrooms, no thank you.” I stated wrinkling my nose.
“I wasn't offering,” he pointed out.
“Swap you some salad for an onion ring?”
He did an eye roll, “here, can we eat now?” he added a couple of battered rings to my pile of pommes.
 
Well maybe there was a bit much there for a sweet flower like me, Max finished my salad off, well I had to leave space for dessert! Winter Pie turned out to be filled with what in Blighty we'd call Mince, a glutinous mix of currants and stuff. First time i've had it deep fried, different but I guess not to everyones taste.

“Frohes Weihnachts,” Max proposed as I sucked the last of my drink noisily from the cup.
“Yeah,” I agreed.
He thrust a small package across the table, “you'd best have this.”
“Christmas isn't till next week.”
“When you'll be in England,” he pointed out, “you can open it now if you want.”
“Then I won't have anything to open on Weihnachts, nope, I'll take it with me.”
“Up to you,” he shrugged, “its not much.”
“I've got yours at the house.”
“You didn't have to get me anything,” his lips said but there was a happy sparkle in his eyes.
“I promised the Rents we wouldn't be too late.”
“We'd best get a move on then, its gone ten already”

 
It wasn't too late when we reached Schloss Bond, time for coffee, present retreival and some lip and tongue tango. I know we'll see each other tomorrow and Wednesday but it doesn't feel quite as bad leaving the big lunk behind. Up in my eyrie, the small gift wrapped box was placed on my 'to pack' pile – I really do need to do the packing tomorrow or Dad'll blow a gasket.
 
Tuesday was uneventful, well not strictly, stuff did happen just nothing of particular note. I guess there was a sort of excited buzz around the college but we still had lectures to attend, reports to write, books to read. And when I got home it was an hour on the turbo for one of Dad's monitoring sessions so there was no slacking with Dad stood watching and calling the shots.

When I got to college on Wednesday however, the air was tense with anticipation, anticipation of the end of classes and of the 'social' later. But before that I had my regular tutorial with Lisbet.

“Wasn't sure i'd see you today,” my tutor told me as I took my coat off.
“Why wouldn't I be?”
“Last day before recess,” she suggested.
“I didn't think it was an option, besides there's the party later.”
“Don't get too excited, i'd hardly call a few hors d'oeuvre and cheap sparkling wine a party.”
“I'll take what I can get,” I beamed back.

“Have you put your placement questionnaire in,” Lisbet asked an hour later.
“In my bag,” see I can remember things.
“Might as well cut out the middleman then.”
“Oh, er sure, hang on,” I fished in my bag and handed her the slightly crumpled papers.
“You might want to invest in some document folders,” she sort of hinted.
“I guess.”

“Well that looks okay, we'll have to try to find something that'll stretch you a bit, you have quite an advantage over most of your peers.”
“I do?”
“Not just academically but you already run a business and have quite a bit of experience in the workplace.”
“Frying Schnitzel and waiting tables,” I chuckled.
“Which means you have excellent people skills and whilst its not haute cuisine, you still need hygiene and technical skills to consistently serve up frites. I'll talk to your other tutors and see if we can find something a bit different for you.”
“Er thanks, I think.”
“Don't worry, it won't be anything you aren't capable of doing.”

That didn't exactly reassure me. On the plus side the placement is only a few weeks and its not even all week, if I suck at whatever I get it won't be the end of the world.

“Whats this?” Lisbet asked when I presented her with the gift bag.
“Just a sort of thank you.”
"For what?”
“Sorting stuff out for me, when I was away at the start of the year and when I was off for the training camp.”
“You don't have to give me gifts for doing my job Gab.”
“How about as payment for the only decent coffee in the building?”
“Okay, maybe you have me there but it was you who sorted my machine out.”
“Just accept it eh,” I cajoled.

Look I may be blonde but I'm not daft, a bag of Mozart Balls and a pair of tights from the Wolford factory shop doesn't break the bank but whatever she says, I'm storing Brownie points for future need.
 

She was right about the social, I met Hild in the common room, after a couple of vol au vents and half a plastic cup of sickly sparkling wine we adjourned to a coffee shop around the corner. Its not like we're besties or anything so after one cup we went our seperate ways, I was on the fourteen oh five with time to spare.

 
© Maddy Bell 20.05.2019

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

---

 

 
I'd hardly got through the door before I came under fire from the parental units.

“Make sure you've got two posh frocks,” Mum instructed.
“Two? What for?”
“Just because.” Parent logic.
“Whatever.”
“Aren't you packed yet?” Dad added from the lounge.
“I was,” i pointed out, “now i've got to sort more stuff out.”
“And don't forget we're stopping at the Grönberg's for dinner.”
“Yes Mum,” I sighed before making my escape to the eyrie.

So okay, maybe I wasn't telling the hundred percent truth when I told Dad I was packed, strictly speaking, well i've got my prezzies and some knickers in the case and in my head I know the rest of what I'm taking. And now i've got to decide on another dress and everything that goes with it which would be a lot easier if I hadn't accumulated so many. Look, I'm certainly no 'clothes horse' or dedicated follower of fashion' but a girl has to look her best right?

Well I guess i'd best get on or I'll never hear the end of it, I opened my case and started raiding the drawers and shelves. Over the next hour stuff was back and forth like an enthusiastic okey cokey, in, out, shake it all about. I probably had far too much stuff by the time I was finished, enough hose and lingerie for a fortnight, I compromised on some of the shoes, they can double up right?

I heaved the case down from my hole then headed back up to change and shower.
 

I found my way back to the kitchen looking for food.

“You sorted now?” Mum queried as she stirred something on the stove.
“Yeah, its on the landing, what's for dinner?”
“Thought we'd have Spag Bol, you'd best tell your Dad.”
“That we're having spaghetti?”
She took a deep breath, “your case? Mind you, a bottle of red would go down well too.”
“Right, where we eating?”
“Lets be civilsed for a change eh?”
 

Mum makes an excellent Bolognese, Mand had what was effectively sauce Milanese, she doesn't know what she's missing – or perhaps she does. Anyhow, I think we managed not to spray sauce over too much of the table cloth and even Bond 'house' wine is a lot better than that cheapo plonk at college earlier. Tinned peaches and Soß Anglaise provided a simple but somehow satisfying dessert, I know, its hardly haute cuisine but so what.

“You done kiddo?” Dad asked.
I shrugged, “unless there's cake, why?”
“We had a delivery earlier.”

Not exactly a rare occurrence.

“Oh?”
“For you,” Mum hinted.
“I've not ordered anything.”
“Saturday?” Dad hinted.

I looked at him blankly for a moment before it clicked, my Mofa! Okay, I'm easily distracted, what with one thing and another i've not given it any thought since Monday.

“Where?” I demanded.
“Downstairs.”
“Come on Mand,” I enthusiastically suggested pushing away from the table.
 
“Its a bit pink,” Mand observed as I lusted over my new wheels, “i didn't think you liked pink mopeds?”
“Flamingo.”
“Eh?”
“Its not pink its Flamingo.”
“If you say so.”

I climbed on and made myself comfortable, I know Michael said I shouldn't sit on it on the stand but its not like I weigh like a hundred kilos is it?

“Nice basket.”
“It'll be usefull.”
“Never said it wasn't.”

I'm pretty sure she's taking the Michael.
 
Dad joined us in the garage.

“Has it got petrol in?”
“Full tank, you'll probably need these,” he dangled the keys in front of me.
I dismounted and grabbed him in a hug, “thanks Daddy.”
“You've earnt it kiddo, don't spend too long down here playing, the dishes still need washing.”
“Okay.”

Dad headed back to the stairs.

“Well I'm going up,” Mand told me following Pater.
“Won't be long,” I called after them.
 
I remounted the scooter and put the key in, a quarter turn released the steering lock and the next click turned the motor over. Yep, its a girly bike so unlike Max's its got electric ignition – good job, when I tried starting Max's I couldn't get enough weight behind the kick start thingy. The engine burst into life, echoing loudly in the enclosed space of the workshop, I twisted the throttle and it got even louder, oops!

The motor spluttered into silence amid the aroma of burnt petrol, I removed the key and stepped down. I thought i'd better check out where the petrol goes in, but there was nowhere obvious of even where the tank was. I did find a sort of little hatch with the ownership documents in – I grinned at the name at the bottom, Gabrielle Bond, oh yeah. There was also the insurance paperwork but no filler cap.

It was more luck than anything that released the seat, the keyhole hiding in a recess under the front. And there it was, the filler cap and a small storage area containing some sort of tool kit – yeah like I'm likely to be able to fix anything. I closed the saddle and after another couple of minutes admiration, headed up into the house.
 
It felt a bit weird walking round to Thesing's with Mand Thursday morning, its seems so long since it was the daily routine. The day was typical Ahrtal December, foggy down in the valley but looking up there was a clear blue sky, it'll never get to warm but it should be quite nice later – not wet at least.

“Who's coming?” Manda asked.
“Everyone I think, well the Angels at least.”

Okay, its not like getting together for a meal or a party at the Stube but our departure today forestalled any of that stuff. So its coffee and cake with the girls at the bakery then I get to christen my Mofa with a ride to drop presents with the Preiser's before we set off for Mettmann.

“Hi Mrs T.”
“Morning Gaby, Amanda, Connie'l be down in a minute, coffee?”
“I'll do it,” I offered.
“Don't be silly, I'll bring them over.”

We headed over to what I still think of as 'our' table, the big one in the corner that we can all get around. Nena, Bridg and Pia arrived together as Frau Thesing delivered mine and de Vreens drinks, Steff wasn't far behind so ironically it was Connie who was last to join us. On the other hand she did come bearing gifts in the form of a rather delish looking gateaux.

It was a bit weird to see everyone together away from the whole Weihnachts cabin setting – and in normal clothes! I haven't seen Steff, Nena or Bridg in anything other than Kostum for weeks – before Austria in fact. We spent a couple of hours exchanging tales of college parties and eating what turned out to be an excellent Passion Fruit number loaded with cream and slices of fresh fruit.

But you can't spend the whole day talking rubbish can you? Well I guess you can but I'm on a tight schedule if I'm not to get on the wrong side of the Parents. The final element of our Angels reunion was the distribution of Weihnachts gifts – we'd normally do it Christmas Eve but that could be difficult this year! I've been collecting stuff since the summer, so there's stuff from Kanada, Austria and Koblenz amongst the wrapping paper.

I passed a last bag to Connie as we prepared to depart.
“Can you give these to Kris and the newbies for me.”
“No problem, have a good trip eh.”
“Yeah, I'll see you when we get back.”

We exchanged a long hug, somehow it seems different leaving everyone here this time, don't know why, its only for a week.
 

I checked that everything was secure in the basket – apparently the cargo net thing is a present from my sister, then knocked the stand up.

“Be careful,” Mum told me for like the hundredth time.
“Yes Mum.”
“And remember, we're leaving for Mettmann at four.”
“I know, see you later.”

I started my steed and then managed to promptly stall the motor before going anywhere. My audience thankfully stayed silent as I reset and repeated the start procedure, this time moving slowly down the drive and out onto Zaungarten. Yay, I'm on my way!
 
Up at Rech I joined the bike trail, the main valley road is a bit busy for a slightly nervy rider, it was pretty cool zipping along without any effort on my part. So okay I can ride my bike up here at the same speed but this is like wheeeeee! Of course, the big difference is that whilst it won't exactly fly up the steeper bits I won't be perspiring, that'll be the tiny motor I'm sat over.

Max's machine has a distinctive putt, putt, my steed has a steadier tone, more of a quiet buzz. Outside in the open it doesn't seem that loud – not like last night in the garage. I quickly got the feel of the steering, the brakes, whilst good aren't as sharp as on my Pinarellos. That might be just as well, makes you ride a little more conservatively.

I bzzzzzed through Altenahr and now on the road headed along toward Ahrbruck at a steady lick. It has proper indicators which is great once you remember you have them, I only remembered as I wobbled with an arm out to make the turn up towards Kesseling and of course Sattel. The road doesn't have the best of surfaces, on a rigid bike you get shaken about a bit, on my Mofa its a bit plusher although the wallow through a couple of dips was a bit disconcerting.

The buzz got a bit more laboured after Kesseling as the grade increased, the speed dropped from just over twenty Kph to something closer to ten. I know, its hardly quicker than walking but its not walking, or cycling and finally the tone and speed picked back up as I entered Sattel. It was a bit of a bouncy ride along the unmade lane to the farm and I was soon parked on a flatter area of cobbles near the house.

“Gaby?” Marts voice queried as I started to gather the contents of the basket, “i thought your mum was bringing you.”
“Got my own wheels now,” I grinned turning to greet him.
“Its a bit pink.”
“Flamingo.”
“Come inside, the girls are waiting with the tea pot.”
 

“You look frozen,” Bern opined.
“It is December,” I pointed out.
“And she came up on a Mofa,” Marty added.
“You got it then,” Bern enthused as I lost my jacket.
“Yesterday,” I confirmed, “where's little un?”
“She's.....not again.”
“I'll fetch her,” Mart told us.
“She's like flippin' greased lightning, she'll be in the dog basket.”
“I won't ask, you looking forward to seeing your rents?”
“Yeah, I guess, they're coming up on Christmas Eve then we're gonna spend Christmas day with them at the hotel.”
“Give them my regards.”
“Will do, what about you? Ready for England?”
“Well I'm packed. It'll be weird not being home, don't get me wrong, I want to see Gran but I'll miss everyone here.”
“You've been away for longer.”
“I know, but Weihnachts, well its different, you know, special.”
“Here we go,” Marty returned with Bern's, no their, wriggling daughter in his arms.
“Look who's here Drea, Tante Gaby's come to see you.”
“Pwincess!” the wriggler announced reaching out towards me.

Well what can you do? Daddy brought her over and I found myself with my 'niece' sat on my lap playing with the braid I put my hair in to keep it under control in my Mofa helmet.

“Very domestic,” Bern chortled.
“I'll leave you three to your tea party, I need to bring the cows in, the forecast is horrible later,” Mart advised.
“Okay liebchen,” Bern allowed before exchanging a kiss with her man.
 
“You had lunch?” Bern asked a few minutes later after my stomach made its presence heard – loudly.
“I had cake earlier then I came straight up here.”
“So thats a no then,” she surmised sounding like my mother.
“Er yeah, I mean no.”
“Poor Gaby, you'll waste away, Drea, take that out your mouth love.”

I had to look, well you do don't you? The munchkin was happily er, munching on my braid, oh well, its had worse on it and it'll wash.

“She's okay.”
“Your funeral girl, you want a sandwich, soup?” her mother offerred.
“If its no trouble.”

my stomach rumbled again which deemed to amuse Drea no end.
 
Fifteen minutes later I relinquished the small child in favour of a spoon to tackle the steaming tureen of Linsensuppe complete with chopped Frankfurter. That would've been ample but Bern rolled out a doorstep sandwich, cheese with some garlic sausage. What can you do?

“This is pretty good, you make this?” I queried between spoons of green gloop.
“Its not rocket science.”
“You were never the domestic goddess Bern,” I pointed out.
“Well I have to do something for my keep, I do a fair bit of cooking now.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but you've always cooked.”
“I guess.”
“I've been usung Erika's mother's recipe book.”
“Bet thats interesting.”
“I've had to get Mart to decipher some of it, I'm still working on the German.”

It struck me then, of course, we've been talking German, not English, I guess i've just accepted Bern's sometimes quirky sentence construction as being, well, just Bern. I don't think most people would immediately pick her out as an Auslander, a longer conversation would likely give her away but how often do we really exchange more than a few words? And much like me when we first moved here, she's getting the total immersion treatment, the senior Preiser's run to about hello, goodbye in English and unless you want a solitary existence its a steep learning curve.

I made short work of the soup and sandwich, in the absence of my braid Drea was sucking at her own mini sandwich. Can you believe she's nearly eighteen months old, ten teeth, a crawl like a rocket and a more measured waddle when she feels like it. I made another pot of tea, good imported Yorkshire Tea I noted, I'm guessing Cheryl is sending food parcels to her girls.
 
“I'm gonna have to get off,” I sighed, “Dad wants to get off sharp as we're eating with Roni's family tonight.”
“Thanks for coming up Gab, this one loves to see the Princess.”
“I wonder who started her with that one,” I mused.
“If the cap fits,” Bern chuckled.
“Talking of caps,” I reached under my seat, “you'd best have these,” I picked up the bag of Chrimbo cards and gifts to show her, “i'll leave them down here.”
“You didn't have to Gab.”
“Why would I miss you guys out?”
“I haven't got you anything.”
“And? We're not at Meden Vale Primary any more, its not a competition to see who gets most.”
“You always won anyhow.”
“Maybe, but were friends right and Drea...”

“Thanks Gab, for being there, I know i've made some stupid decisions in the past but you, well you're parents too, you've all gone well beyond what any sensible person would do.”
“Anyone'd do the same,” I interjected.
“Thats just the point Gab, no one else did, in fact they all turned their backs on the tearaway druggie whore.”
“They were wrong.”
“Not from where they stand, I'm not proud to admit it but I did do the drugs, I did have sex with lots of boys.”
“But,” I started to interrupt.
“No Gab, oh I know it was one thing leading to the next but somewhere in there I decided to play hooky, to hang out with the 'bad boys', to try the drugs, yes I was raped but the first time was my choice. I know I hurt Mum and Dad, I don't know why I did those things but I did, they stuck by me, you stuck by me, Gab, you are my family and troubles, you brought her into this world, I won't forget that.”
“Me either,” I joked, “just don't expect a repeat next time.”
She gave me a funny look, “how did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That I'm expecting again.”
“For a minute there I thought you said you were pregnant again.”
“Can you keep it under your hat for now, I want to tell the grandparents before we go public.”
“You're serious.”
“Course I'm serious and before you ask, yes its Marty's and no it wasn't an accident.”
“I guess its congratulations then, when's it, you know?”
“End of July, close to this ones birthday.”

 
Bern's news was still rattling around in my head as guided my steed back down to the Ahrtal. Talk about a bombshell, that certainly came out of the blue, she'll have a football team before i've even done the deed, if I ever do. I involuntarily shuddered at that thought, kissing and a bit of groping is okay but the final step....

And apparently the twenty five kmh limit for Mofas goes out of the window when gravity is added to the equation. The long descent from Staffel soon had the speedometer needle hard against the top of the dial which marks fifty kmh! Oops, am I supposed to brake or do I just enjoy the ride?
 

© Maddy Bell 24.05.2019

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

---

 

 
Well the Mofa might do fifty with grav assist but once back on the almost flat valley floor there was no way it would go above twenty five, a fact I hadn't really factored into my journey planning. I've had my old Schauff faster along here and that weighs like twenty kilos! I bzzzd back to Altenahr, stopping briefly to take a snap with my phone of the cabin and especially the 'Gab's Garten' board – well Gran's not seen it has she?

“Have I got time to shower?”
“If you're quick,” Dad advised, “you got anything else to go in the car?”
Have I? “just me I think.”
“Don't be long, we'll have a cuppa then get off.”

I checked my watch, why are girls watches so flippin' small? I guess i've got about fifteen minutes tops to remove the Drea dribble, dry my hair and get dressed. At least I don't need food, cheers Bern.
 
“Coat, purse, knickers?” Mum posed as we assembled to depart.
“Mu-um,” I complained – look it was only once and I was in a rush.
“Leave the girl alone Jen,” Dad suggested, “for once she's here on time, in one piece and packed, lets just enjoy that eh?”

Mand did a bad job of suppressing her amusement which earnt her a swat from me.

“Hey!”
“Come on you two, I want to miss the traffic,” Dad encouraged.

So of course we launched into a very adult exchange of tongue poking out.

“Children!” Mum intoned propelling us out into what remained of the afternoon.
 

Of course we've made this same journey dozens of times over the last couple of years, on a good day it might be about ninety minutes or its not, which could be twice that. You can, by doing a huge loop, miss the pinch points, Bonn, Köln and Düsseldorf, but that costs time too, Dad generally just tries to avoid the busy times. We actually made it up to Düssel before finding the traffic, Dad took us off the autobahn at the next turn and threaded us through the collection of commuter towns that sit on the slope between Solingen and Düsseldorf.

“Thought we were going to Ron's?” I queried as we ignored the turn I know goes up to their bungalow.
“We're meeting them in town first,” Mum advised.
“We'll not get everyone in the car,” Mand observed.
“Does that mean Marcus is home?”i queried.
“I believe so,” Dad absently agreed turning us in towards downtown Mettmann.

I'm glad I was dressed for travelling, it was flippin' arctic when we got out of the car on a dark side street next to what looked like a half demolished multistory.

“So where're we meeting them?” I asked surveying the lifeless dark around us.
“Up in the market,” Mum told us, “a bar called the Engel.”

Well that sounds promising.
 
It was one of those cases of heading in what we thought was the right direction, we picked up a bit of other foot traffic and the strains of a PA system playing Weihnachts music drew us into the centre.

“A weihnachtsmarkt?” I posed.
“That's what Angela said,” Dad told us, “i think its called something else though.”

Hmm, I could already smell, lets see, something in batter, pommes and the heady notes of Glühwein on the air. Mettmann isn't that big, the market was never gonna be huge and so it turned out, stalls encircling the church and clearly an enthusiastic local clientele. Not really that much different to Ahrweiler except its Thursday and our market is only open at the weekends.

Clearly Dad had directions for this bar, leading us through the stalls to the rear of the church. There it was, hiding just off the market, a discrete doorway in an otherwise unremarkable old building, a slightly arty 'Engel' on the wall identifying our destination. We pushed through the door exchanging the bustle of the market for the more muted conversational buzz inside.

“Bond!”

Dad was the first to spot the Grönberg's, at a table on a sort of mezzanine floor, we made our way to the stairs and up to join them.

 
If you recall, Marcus is a pilot with Lufthansa so we have never seen much of him – even less since Ron moved up to the senior squad. Of course Ron was with us in Austria but i've not seen Angela since the training camp wound up before Kanada. It took a few minutes for everyone to get reacquainted by which time, clearly using some secret signals the table was bearing a forest of beer glasses.

Of course the adults were soon deep into it leaving me, Ron and Mand to our own devices.

“This place is a bit weird,” Mand opined.

I wouldn't go as far as weird but its certainly different. Outside it looks like any other old building round here but inside, well its all timber framed, the lighting barely adequate, the furniture 'rustic' and the wall behind the bar is made of those glass brick things in a sort of dark green. Change everyones clothing and you'd think you were in the Mittelalter!

“Thought you worked in a bar sometimes,” Ron mentioned.
“I do but its nothing like this,” Mand noted.
“It is a bit of a local 'icon',” Ron advised bracketing icon by waggling her fingers.
“Its certainly something,” I added.
“The Weihnachtsmarkt open every day?” Mand asked.
“Blotschenmarkt,” Ron remarked.
“I didn't think it looked that bad.”
“Its what its called you daft bint,” Ron giggled, “yes its open everyday of Advent.”
“Looks like a Christmas market to me,” Mand told her.
“You want to go take a look,” Ron offered.
“What about?” I motioned to the parents.
“We won't be long, they probably won't notice we're gone.”
 
To be honest my tolerance for bier is pretty low, i've been concentrating on wein and I could just fancy a Frikadel or something. I did catch Dad's eye and used my fingers to indicate that we were going for a walk. I think his wink was agreement, leastways there was no outcry as we made good our escape.

The atmosphere reminded me of the market in Feldkirch the other week, friends and family meeting to eat and drink, enjoy the entertainment, real Heimat. The difference is that the stalls are much more food orientated, there are some 'gift' stalls but I don't think you'd come looking to buy stuff. On the other hand the variety of food is pretty cosmopolitan, fried fish, noodles, waffles, crepes plus of course the usual sausages and frites.

“I know that look,” Mand stated.
“Hmm?”
“Mum's got Stroganoff waiting at the house,” Ron advised.

Damn, those potato fritters look good.

“So what's with the tree decorations, can't they afford the real thing,” Mand enquired.
“Its a thing they do with the local kindergartens, each decorate a tree using recycled stuff, see , its CD's this year, ah Sankt Josef's, that's where I went,” Ron explained.

If I get a portion of fritters we can share them.

“Gab, you listening?” Mand enquired.
“Eh?”
“We're going up to stage, there's a band playing in a few minutes.”
“Oh right, erm I'll find you up there.”
“She's gonna get food,” my friends chorused much to their amusement and the surprise of a nearby family.
 
With the exception of the fried fish stall all the food was being sold by local organisations raising funds, the THW, Rot Kreuz, the football club and so on. The fritters were being delivered by the local Lions, and like amateurs everywhere you got more for your money than at any commercial stand, four chunky fritters and a veritable sea of apple sauce all for three euros. I wandered towards the stage which was opposite the main church doors, it's bound to be some local covers band, popular and probably free but who am I to turn my nose up.

I spotted Ron -well she's quite tall and her off white bobble hat stands out in a crowd too, and headed over, doing a fair job of protecting the frtters from elbows, balloons and oblivious pensioners. I nearly jumped out of my skin when a familiar voice boomed out over the PA.

“Hello Mettmann, I'm Stefan, we are BlauHase!” and the lads went into their familiar opening stanza.

Well at least the music'll be decent.

Of course its a different set to the Rheinhalle, more like those first couple of gigs I went to, some shouty Stefan compositions between rock standards. They segued from Stefan's 'Missing Legion' to the opening bars of Queen's Bo Rhap, one of my songs.

“Is this the real life,
is this just fantasy...”

I didn't notice the crowd move away from me or Ron relieve me of the fritters, I was lost in the lyrics. If I had been paying attention I would have realised that Stefan wasn't singing anymore, he was lost in his eight string.

“Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango,
Thunderballs and lightning,
very, very frightening thing,
Galileo,”

I let the others do their parts before coming back in and belting out the rest of the number.

“I’m just a poor girl from a poor family
Easy come, easy go
Will you let me go?
Ich millach no, we will not let you go
Let me go
Ich millach no, we will not let you go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me-e, for me-e, for meee”

It was only as the crowd cheered and clapped that I realised there was a clear space in front of me, right up to the stage front.

“Thank you,” Stefan was back on the microphone, “a hand for our singer, Erdbeere, come on up here 'Beere.”
“Go on Gab,” Ron hissed, “we'll look after these.”

My fritters! What can you do though, the audience of Mettmann burghers clearly thought that my singing from the crowd was part of the performance and Stefan calling me up, bugger! By the time i'd climbed onto the stage there was a mic waiting for me, the crowd, well some of them at least, cheered when I gave each of the guys a quick hug before shucking my jacket.

“so now we're all here,” Stefan informed everyone, “we'll get things moving.”
 

“Hast du etwas Zeit für mich?
Dann singe ich ein Lied fürdich
Von neunundneundzig Luftballons...”

Luftballons is of course our 'traditional' encore and as usual the Nena number had the crowd singing along followed by very enthusiastic applause and cheering when we finished.

“So what are you doing here?” Stefan asked as put my jacket on.
“Visiting friends, they live here, what about you guys, its hardly local.”
“Big Jo's family are from here, its wider exposure and all the better for you being here.”
“Purely by coincidence, bum, my fritters'll be cold.”
“Gab!” Mand called up, “we er, should get back.”
“Er right, I'll see you guys in the New Year?”
“We'll be there, have a good Weihnachts.”
“And you guys, tschuss!”

Okay its hardly big rock star stuff but I'm not one am I? I'll admit to enjoying a bit of a warble, the concert at the Rheinhalle was fun, tonight was fun even if it was unplanned. But lets face it, I'm never gonna be some rock diva am I?
 
“There you are,” Mum stated, well duh!
“I um, got a bit side tracked.”
“We heard kiddo,” Dad advised.

Well thats any pretence of denial out of the window.

“Come on, the Grönberg's have gone on ahead, we don't want to be too late tonight, its an early start remember.”
 

“What happened to the fritters,” I asked Mand in a whisper as Dad drove us the short way up to the Grönberg's.
“They um disappeared somewhere around your second song?”

Oh well, at least they didn't go to waste.

By the time we got there, Angela had the pasta on the go and the sauce was warming on the hob, I guess missing the fritters isn't so bad with this as replacement. In deference to needing clearer heads for travelling it was just grape juice to go with the food, which, if I'm honest, suited me just fine. By the time we'd polished off the main course, a slice of Angela's Kasekuchen and coffee, it was heading for ten and we still have to get to the hotel.
 
“So how come your band were in Mettmann?” Mand asked as we lay in the darkness of our hotel room.
“Apparently its where Big Jo comes from.”
“Right. You know Gab?”
“What?”
“You really are pretty good, you know, at singing.”
“Huh, hardly, you can't hear me over the music,” I snorted.
“Not true, you come out really clear, everyone can hear every word.”

Well that's me told.
 

With such an early flight the hotel wasn't serving breakfast before we departed so after checking our luggage, unusually devoid of bicycles, we grabbed coffee and croissants before going through to the gate. Most of the passengers were already loaded by the time we got there which actually made it easier for us, no queue at the gate or to load the plane and we didn't even have to disturb anyone to get our seats, Dad was in 12C and the rest of us occupied D, E and F. Mand had the window but at seven thirty on a December morning its still pitch black anyhow, nothing to see.

I didn't really sleep that well, I kept going over everything from yesterday, one something in particular that I was itching to share. I can't believe that they're having another kid, I wonder what their parents will say? Well I guess its not really my concern but, well enquiring minds need to know!

So of course I slept through the in flight 'breakfast', only waking with an elbow from Mand.

“You can see Yorkshire.”
“Um?”
“Look, that has to be the Humber.”
I leant over to take a neb, “yeah.”
“You missed breakfast.”
“You could've woken me,” I pointed out.
“Blame your Mum, she said to leave you.”

I glanced at Mater sat beside me, engrossed in her book, ear buds in humming tunelessly along to something or other.

“So your Mum meeting you in London?”
“I think Gramps is picking me up.”
“'kay.”
“Gab?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You just did.”
“Something serious, personal serious?”

Ot oh, “er okay.”

© Maddy Bell 25.05.2019

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

---

 

 
“So, you know, well that I like girls?”
“Yeah.”
“Well do you think I should tell my mum?”

Why ask me?

“She doesn't know?”
“Ut uh, its, well, never quite felt like the right time.”
“She must have an inkling?”
“I dunno, its not like we exactly talk a lot is it?”

Well to be honest I wouldn't really know, we might live in the same house and do stuff together but its not like we're attached at the hip, I do my stuff, she does hers. For all I know she could be on the phone with her mum every night.

“What about your grandparents? Do they know?”
“I think Gran has worked it out.”
'We are just starting our final approach into Manchester, please ensure seats are in the upright position, tables are stowed and seatbelts fastened.'
“Maybe tell her first?” I suggested, “then you'll have support telling your mum?”
“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea, thanks Gab.”
“So what's brought this on anyhow?”
“Erm,” for once it wasn't me blushing.
“You've got a girlfriend!”
“Shush!”
“You have,” I stated with more conviction, “so who is it, someone at school?”
“Lisse,” she mumbled.
“From cheer? I thought she had a boyfriend?”
“She did but,” she shrugged, “she has a girlfriend now.”

Okay so I'm not exactly tuned into these things but I would never have picked Lisse out as being a Lesbian.

“How long?” well enquiring minds and all that.
“Since the summer, we sort of hooked up when you lot were off camping.”
 
The plane made some noises that I recognised as putting the wheels down, breaking the mood. It seemed like mere moments before the fields of Cheshire were flashing past the window and with a gentle bump we were on terra firma, engines in reverse, flaps up to bring us to a more manageable ground speed. The day looked typical Manchester, grey and damp, the city of sunshine it isn't.

Manchester airport is a bit of a lash up, the terminals a mish mash of additions and changes, forget big wide concours' and walk in / out access. Each time I come through they seem to've changed something else, the only thing that never seems to change are the long walks, up and down, round and round to get from airside to passport control. There was a lengthy queue just to get into the real queue but thankfully most of those ahead were from a flight from India or some such – the line for UK and EU citizens was moving quite quickly.

I always think I'm gonna get hauled off at this point but the woman on the desk barely even looked at my passport before waving me through. The others were close behind me as we descended into baggage reclaim, looking at the screens our bags would probably be another ten minutes.

“Anyone need the toilets?” Dad asked.
“Probably a good idea,” Mand mentioned.
“Yeah, me too,” I agreed.
“Okay, you okay here Jen?”
“We'll manage, go, we'll find you outside.”

I'm guessing Dad's hoping to beat the queues at the car hire.
 
By the time we got back to the luggage band our flight was just starting to come through, I spotted Mum's battered case first. With no bikes to wait for and all our cases coming through fairly close together, even with mine being last, as usual, we were only about fifteen minutes behind Dad pushing the trolley out into Arrivals. You don't even get straight out now, we negotiated more corridors, taking it in turns to pilot the less than co-operative trolley.

“Can we get some food? I'm starving.”
“Really kiddo?” Mum sighed.
“We didn't exactly get Frustück did we?”
“You could've had something on the plane.”
“No one woke me up,” I pointed out.
“We'll get something in Stockport.”
“Stockport?”
“Its easier to park for the railway station.”

I sniffed theatrically as we pushed past the Burger King.
 
Of course, Manchester being Manchester the car hire wasn't exactly where you want it, another five minutes and one wrong turn later we arrived just as Dad finished at the counter.

“Good timing,” Dad grinned spotting us.
“Next time I'll get the car,” Mum complained.
“Come on then, we've got a Focus wagon.”
“That gonna be big enough?” Mum asked relinquishing the trolley to Pater.
“We'll manage.”

Back home it'd be a Merc or a Bimmer but in good ole England exotic would be a Vauxhall, forget something foreign.

We shoehorned everything in, its a good job we aren't going far and that we're dropping Mand off to get her train south, our coats were piled between us on the back seat. I nearly had a heart attack when Dad pulled out of the parking on the wrong side of the road. Not actually the wrong side of course but its been a year since i've been over and I'm tuned to riding on the right.
 
“What time?” Mum asked as Dad and Mand returned from the ticket office.
“The eleven fifteen was full so we've gone for the twelve oh five.”
“Can we eat?” I begged.
“We can eat,” Mum allowed.
“There's a spoon over the road,” Dad advised.
“Guess I'll see you next week then,” Mand offered.
“What are you talking about?”
“Well you're going to eat, I'll get something on the train.”
“Don't be daft girl,” Mum told her, “you've been with us long enough to know you're included, come on, Dave'll bring your case.”

“You daft moo,” I mentioned as we followed the oldies to the 'Spoons.
“I don't want to miss the train.”
“You won't, there's what?” I consulted my timepiece, “just over an hour before its due.”
“What if the food takes ages?”
“You'll catch your train.”
 
Well okay, they weren't the fastest with the food but we had it eaten and Mand on the platform with a good ten minutes to spare.

“Ring when you get there,” Dad told her.
“I will.”
“And if things don't work out, which I'm sure they will, call,” Mum added.
“See you then,” I told her as we hugged, “Glück.”
“I need it.”
“Come on you two, trains here,” Dad advised.

I dunno, it felt kind of weird saying goodbye and waving her off. Its not like i've not been on trips without her but this felt more, I dunno, final, like we won't be back together next week. My maudlin mood was broken by Dad.

“come on kiddo, lets go see your Gran.”
 
You can of course get on the motorways to get to Nantwich but there's still like twenty K to Grans, from Stockport its shorter distance wise and not much different time wise to cut the corner – when we lived in Warsop this was our fast route over. It was this route that Dad set off on once we were back in the Focus, it almost felt like old times except we're not in a campervan and Jules isn't here. I know its been a few years since we came this way, but it wasn't until I started spotting familiar names on road signs that I actually recognised where we were.

Through Holmes Chapel, Middlewich and then the last leg towards Crewe before bearing off to Nantwich. Even on a grey December afternoon it was a kick to go past familiar shops, through streets that I recognized with some fondness. Of course Gran's cottage isn't in Nantwich itself but a mile or two out on the Chester road, it didn't take long before we were pulling in behind Gran's new car, well its new to her, a cherry looking MG.

Last time I was here was during the BC training camp last year, that was some weekend, me, Gran, Mand – me not Drew. When I think about it, this place has been quite pivotal in me becoming, well me. So okay, it turns out i've always been me but I didn't always think I was if that makes sense. Gran had the door open before I got there.

“Gran!”

She pulled me into a hug.

“Nice car mum,” Dad mentioned.
“Always fancied one,” Gran replied over my head, “Adam down at the bridge did me a deal, kettles on.”

 
Gran has an eclectic style, sort of country cottage kitsch mixed with IKEA! Somehow though, it all seems to work , I snuggled into an overstuffed armchair with my tea, balancing the cake bearing plate on the arm rest.

“I've bought one of those coffee gizmo's you keep going on about Gab, you'll have to show me how to work it,” Gran mentioned.
“Yeah sure,” I agreed.
“The pink's nearly grown out then? Thought you might have kept it?”

There was just me and Gran in the living room, the olds having been despatched to the local Sainsbury's.

“Yeah, its taken long enough, why would I keep it?”
“Isn't it your trademark in the band?”
“Sort of,” I agreed, “but it doesn't look very professional at college an' that.”
“For my tuppence, I think it looks good on you.”
“Er thanks.”
“So you aren't giving up everything for a career on the stage?”
“Course not!”
“Well from what I hear you could.”
“Gran, get serious, an occasional warble is hardly a viable music career.”
“So you're still set on following in your mothers wheelmarks then?”
“I guess so,” I allowed.

I've been my mothers daughter all the way, I always looked to her as my role model, well okay i've had other heroes along the way, but Mum is, has been my number one for as long as I can remember. I don't ever think i've had any doubt my mind that I was going to be a world champion bike rider. Maybe I hadn't planned on being a female champion but I'll take what I can get.

“So how's college going?”
I gave a shrug, “okay I guess, we've got a placement in the New Year.”
“What do you do on that?”
“Not sure yet, Lisbet says she's got something special lined up for me.”
“Who's Lisbet?”
“My head tutor, she's pretty cool, I had to sort her coffee machine out too.”
“Maybe you should specialise in fixing coffee machines,” Gran suggested with a chuckle.
“Not likely!”

“How's your sister?”
“Not seen her for a bit, its quite a long trip up from her Uni.”
“Its a pity she couldn't make Christmas.”
“Yeah,” well sort of, she splits everyones attention.
 
On one level its great coming to Gran's for Chrimbo, on another its a nightmare, there's not really anywhere to escape to, no one to talk to, I guess my college stuff will get a good working over. Don't get me wrong, I love Gran, she was a brick for us when Mum was ill and has always supported me and Jules but on a one to one level, what do you talk about?

There's only so much talking about our respective lives you can do when basically the only thing you have in common is ancestry. I don't know who she's talking about and she doesn't know most of the cast in my life either. Even her new car only kept the conversation going for a couple of minutes, I'm not really a car girl, if it has four wheels and goes thats enough information.

“Did your Mum tell you, you were on the telly the other week.”
“Oh? Here? No.”
“Uh huh, they didn't say it was you of course, they were really only interested in Prince William.”
“Urgh! Wills again! Everytime we meet there's like the Spanish Inquisition!”
“You met him before that?”

Bum!

“Er yeah, you remember I went to that big wedding in Munich last year.”
“Now this I must hear, more cake, i've got some Battenburg?”

Damn you Gran, you know all my weaknesses.

“Best make a fresh pot of tea too,” I suggested.
 

Big Rodg, carefully placed the three pint glasses on the table as his girlfriend droned on.

“I tell ya it was her,” Kylie stated with some conviction.
“Faught she woz forrin,” Russ observed.
“I could 'ear 'em, they woz'n talkin' English.”
“So wot's she doin' in The Station?” Big Rodg asked.
“I dunno, looked like egg an' chips.”
“Maybe they woz ruffin it, I 'eard 'ow some of them Knobs do that,” Russ suggested.
“Not much good to us tho, she aint gonna be there tomorra is she?” Big Rodg pointed out.
“It woz defnatly 'er tho,” Kylie repeated.

 
© Maddy Bell 27.05.2019

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

---

 

 

The parental units returned just as I finished the somewhat edited version of Munich – the wedding.

“What are we doing for dinner mum?” Mum asked her, er mum once they were inside with the shopping.
“Hadn't really thought yet love, egg and chips?”

I gave Mum a look, I didn't have quite that earlier, but the platter did include both those elements.

“How about we eat out tonight, we'll be cooking enough here the next few days.”
“Well you'll not get any complaints from me,” Gran told us.
“That's that settled then, you gonna book where we said love?”
“On it dearest,” Dad replied already heading for the kitchen.
“So what've you two been up to?” Mum asked.
“The Princess...”
“Gra-an,” I interrupted.
“...was telling me about fancy weddings, princes and princesses.”
“Anything i've not heard?” Mum queried.
“No Mum,” I sighed.
“So there won't be a queue of royal suitors when we get home?”
“Chuh! I only talked with him for a few minutes and he's got a girlfriend.”
“And a brother.”
“Mu-um!”
“Just kidding Princess.”
Grrrr!

Dad returned having completed his call, “sorted.”
“So where're we going?” I asked.
“You'll find out when we get there,” Mum told me.
“What time Dave?” Gran asked.
“Tables booked for seven so we should leave, I dunno, half six, we can get a drink before we eat.”
“In that case, I'll have first go at the bathroom,” Gran suggested, gathering cups and plates up, “can you rinse these out please Gaby.”
“Sure,” I agreed. I may be a moody teenager but its easier to just get on and do it than argue about it and still end up having it to do.

“Really, where are we going?” I tried again after Gran disappeared upstairs.
“The Lock Keepers out at Barbridge,” Dad told me.
“I suppose I need to change?”
“As long as you're smart,” Mum advised.
“Aren't I always?”
“Define smart,” Mum shot back.
“I'll do the washing up,” I sighed.
“Stick the kettle on love,” Dad requested.

 
I don't usually unpack everything when I'm away – what's the point when you're gonna be packing it up again two days later? But here at Gran's, well we're here for a week so its a bit different and my posh stuff can do with being hung. Of course i've got the small guest room as usual, with just me it feels huge although its not much different to my eyrie back in Dernau.

When I opened the wardrobe I found my choices suddenly enlarged – I wondered where that skirt was – and that top and isn't that Jules' jacket? Its a good job I seem to have given up growing, everything will still fit me. So, pub food, what to wear?
 
Dad gave me one of those 'I'm not gonna say anything but' looks when I joined everyone in the lounge.
“Well I'm ready.”
“Isn't that your sisters jacket?” Mum queried.
“She must've left it last time she was here.”
“There wasn't room in her bag,” Gran mentioned.
“Come on then,” Dad suggested.
 
Its amazing what you can do with a bit of mix and match, with the short denim skirt and the leather jacket added to my options I put together a 'posh' rock chick ensemble. My black stiletos, shiny black tights and a silky vest top provided the rest, a simple twisted hair do and Roberta's your Aunt. Maybe it wasn't quite what Mum was thinking of as smart but it's hardly grunge is it?

Of course, heels and short skirts are hardly a car friendly combination, it felt like I was naked below the waist, its a good job I was wearing hose. The adults were of course wearing more sensible clothing, Gran was in slacks and jumper, Mum opting for a quite with it, flowey jumpsuit thing. By contrast, Dad was wearing his collarless jacket, not out of place in the Ahrtal but what they'll make of it in Cheshire who knows.

As its name might suggest, The Lock Keepers is squeezed between the road and the canal, in the summer its a popular place for drinking and watching the boats on said canal. The appeal in the winter months is somewhat diluted and whilst busy I was surprised that it wasn't busier when we arrived ten minutes later. I guess that even in the season of parties that its a bit far out from like Nantwich or Crewe, most of our fellow patrons were likely fairly local where the reverse is probably the attraction.
 
I won't say that all eyes were on us as we entered, I was still hanging on Dad's arm after nearly turning an ankle on the pebbles of the car park – what idiot thought that was a good idea? Well I'm sure the buzz of conversation changed. I'm sure we made quite a striking impression anyway.

“What's everyone drinking?” Gran asked.
“I'll drive if you want a drink Dave,” Mum offered.
“In that case, a pint of Adnams please Mum,” Dad advised.
“Jen?”
“J2O mango if they have it,”
“Gaby?”
“Dry white please.”
Mum dived in, “lemonade with a slice Mum.“
“But I always,” I started.
“We aren't at home now kiddo,” Dad told me quietly.

Note to self, that's worth remembering, i've gotten so used to being able to legally have wine or beer at home that I forgot you have to be eighteen here. I might just about pass as that tonight but given my size i'd almost certainly get carded on my own – guess its lemonade while I'm here.

We got to study the menu while we waited for our table, it wasn't very extensive when you took out the curry (Mondays), carvery (Sat & Sun) and pizza (Wednesday). Not only that but it was a bit pretentious, mustard mash, wild rice and pan fried vegetables all being 'home cooked'. They'd get laughed out of town back home.

From experience I ruled out the steak and ale pie and lasagne, I'm not a particular fan of fish so that left the 4oz 'gourmet' burger, gammon, sirloin steak or the veggie options. Not a schnitzel or roulade in sight. Oh well, so much for traditional pub food, where's the soup in a basket and prawn cocktail when you need it?

A girl in all black, shirt, miniskirt, opaque tights and ballets, even her apron was black – well a girl notices these things, well, she took us through to our table.

“Arble ooo eedee oo awduhh?” she asked.

Eh?

“Gaby, what are you having,” Dad prompted.
“Die Steak, medium mit gebackener Kartoffel bitte.”

The poor girl looked at me like I was some sort of alien.

“Sorry,” Mum put in, “can you do her steak with a baked potato?”
“Eee oilin?”

Whats wrong with this girl.

“Please,” Mum went on.
“Ow oes ee ont at?”
“Medium.”

I tuned out the rest of the garbled conversation, the girl gathered our menus up and departed.
 
“What was up with her? I couldn't understand a word.”
“Up with her,” Dad chuckled, “it was you speaking German, you might want to try English?”

Dong! What a complete dumkopf, I mean idiot, i've still been speaking German, even with Gran, the gobbledygook was English!

“Um sorry, I should apologise to her.”
“I don't think you upset her or anything,” Mum advised, “but perhaps use English while we're here?”
“Um okay.”

That's me told and made to feel my shoe size.
 
At least the food was cooked to order which gave me time to take in the décor, the adults were busy discussing politics or something to which I just tuned out. Of course we have no shortage of themed restaurants in Germany, with a large nod to what could liberally be called country pursuits. Yep its hard to find a country restaurant without hunting trophies, old rifles and mounted piscines providing the decoration.

In merry ol' England they seem to be doing their best to make everywhere a Disneyised version of life and the Lock Keepers is no exception. So on pretty much every flat surface there're those painted tin pots and other canal ephemera. How much is genuine I wouldn't like to guess, there's certainly enough to fill a couple of medium sized museums!
 

“So I have the baked trout?” the waitress offered.
“Thats me,” Dad told her.
“Mediuum Steak with baked potato?”
“Er mine thank you.”

Mum and Gran both had the steak pie so the rest of the distribution was straightforward.

“Could we get another round of drinks please?” Dad requested as our server completed the food delivery.
“Sure,” she agreed.

Well it lived down to my expectations, the steak wasn't cooked very evenly and for the price was a measley portion, the potato – well it had clearly been in the oven far too long and those 'pan fried' vegetables were somehow the consistency of fudge that had been seered rather than fried. Call me a snob if you like but even Mand could do better and she can't boil water. I hope everyone elses food was better.

On the plus side, they seemed to have the drink order a little mixed up, I ended up with a glass of a reasonable red wine. Mum did the eyerolling thing, well it wasn't worth the effort to get it changed was it?

“I'll have whatever,” I advised the dessert menu readers, “i need a wee,” I added soto voce.

At least the lavs, when I eventually found them, were clean even if the the continued theme of narrowboat tin wear was a bit much. I did my business and was just checking my teeth for stray food at the mirror when our server came in. I was still there when she exited the cubicle, not by design but because my lippy needed redoing.

“Er hi,” she ventured.
“Hi,” I replied, “sorry about earlier.”
“You speak English?”
“Er yeah, I sort of forgot where I was.”
“S'okay, you have speak English with a cute accent by the way, where're you from?”

Good question, where am I from? I know where I was born, where i've lived, where I do live but none of that answers the question.

“Germany, near the Rhein, Gaby by the way.”
“Ren, well its actually Karen but everyone calls me Ren. I like your shoes, not seen any like that before.”
I kicked a leg back to confirm what was on feet, “thanks, they were a present.”
“Nice present, they sure didn't come from Shoe Zone!”

Sounds like some discount chain, yeah I doubt they sell €200 shoes.

“I should finish and get back, they'll be sending a search party.”
Ren gave a little laugh, “me too, the boss will dock my wages, have a nice visit.”
“Thanks,” I offered as she left.

“You get lost?” Mum asked when I got back to the table.
“They're right down the other end, you have to go round a corner and up some steps.”
“We've ordered you Banoffee Pie with Eis,” Dad advised.
“Sounds okay,” I allowed before going on, “do I have an accent, you know when I use English?”
“I wouldn't've said so,” Mum opined.
“Hmm, maybe a bit,” Gran put in, “nothing strong but there's a bit of a lilt and you do use some odd words at times, well you all do.”
“Do you know mum, i'd never given it a thought,” Mum mentioned.
“So why the question kiddo,” Dad enquired.
“I was talking to the waitress in the lav, she said I had a cute accent.”
 
The desserts were the highlight of the meal, I'm pretty sure they were bought in rather than 'home cooked' which was probably their saviour. We decided to give the coffee a miss – if its as good as the cooking, well lets not go there eh? Dad settled the bill – how backward is that, expecting the customer to go to the till, why can't they do it at table like we do at home – I guess it sort of goes with the catering itself.
For once Mum drove at less than warp speed on the way back to Gran's but even so we were there in less than fifteen minutes.

“Anyone for cocoa?” Gran asked once we were safely locked inside the cottage.
“I'll make it,” I offered as I exchanged my heels for slippers to my feet's delight.
“No you don't, your under my roof, tonight its my turn, now Jen, Dave?”
“Please mum,” Dad returned.
“Jen, there's a tin of biscuits in the sideboard.”

With Gran busy in the kitchen it occurred to me that Mand should be at her own grand parents.

“Did Manda ring? With going out I forgot all about her.”
“Yes she did, while you were getting ready,” Dad advised.
“She okay?”
“Well the train was delayed, signals or something but her grandfather picked her up okay, she sounded in good spirits.”
“I hope it all goes okay,” I told them with a sigh.
“Us too kiddo,” Mum agreed.
“Hopefully her gran is a better cook than the chef at the pub,” I joked.
“Yeah, I think we'll give it a miss in future,” Dad suggested with a wry grin.
“It used to be a really good pub,” Mum told us after recovering that traditional English Christmas staple, the tin of Danish butter cookies!
 
© Maddy Bell 28.05.2019

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

---

 

 

'Come on, where are you?' Maddy muttered to herself, Ally was only supposed to have gone for a wee in the Arndale, that was like ten minutes ago, at this rate they'd not get much time on the Christmas market before having to go for the train back to Sheffield. She scanned the shoppers along the street hoping to spot her friend, the tram platform offering a significantly better view than being at street level. A tram pulled into the stop which diverted her attention for a few moments as an exchange of passengers filled the platform around her.

It had been quite a job to even get here...

“But you said,” Mad complained
“I said i'd take you to Meadowhall not Manchester,” her mother pointed out, “i've not got time to go all that way.”
“Meadowhall sucks.”
“Its always been good enough in the past,” Carol pointed out to her daughter.
“Guess i'd best tell Ally its off then,” Mad sighed.
“Ally? I thought you'd fallen out?”
“That was ages ago,” Mad told her with an eye roll.

Carol's reluctance wasn't entirely down to time, after the Scarborough incident, she was perhaps a bit over zealous in keeping tabs on Maddy. Oh why couldn't she be more like her cousin, her straight A, sporty and sensible cousin. Instead her daughter was almost the anti Gaby, barely scraping C's on her GCSE's, the only thing taking her interest her addiction to costuming. But you can't wrap them in cotton wool forever, she's nearly seventeen after all.

“What about going on the train?” she offered.
“That'll take forever,” Mad moaned.
“You can go up to Worksop with your dad, I'm pretty sure you can get a through ticket.”
“I guess.”
“Well its that or Meadowhall.”
“I'll ring Al.”

“So it worked?” Ally almost squealed down the phone.
“Yep,” Mad confirmed
“So when're we going?”
“Have to be Monday, we've got company on Tuesday.”
“Suits me, so who's coming?”
“Gab and her rents, apparently they're spending Christmas with her Gran.”
“You'll have to get me her autograph now she's famous,” Al joked.
“Huh,” Mad scoffed, “its all I get from mum, Gaby's done this, Gaby's done that, why can't you be more like your cousin.”
“It can't be that bad.”
“You wanna bet, i'd hate her but she's too nice.”
“Well we didn't exactly cover ourselves in glory with Bernie did we?”
“You heard from her?”
“Not since she left,” Al sighed, “you think we should get something for the baby, get Gab to take back for us?”
“Could do,” Mad agreed.

In truth she wasn't proud of their ostracism, they'd sort of got dragged along by the 'moral' majority at school, there probably weren't more than a couple of virgins in their year so it wasn't Bern getting in the family way per se but rather what appeared to be, from the outside, her willingness to go with anyone, more than a few noses were put out of joint. The drugs and other stuff were just extra dressing on the platter.

Of course, with Bernie having left Warsop, any reconciliation was always going to be unlikely but there was no harm in offering some sort of olive branch.
 
“Give me a call when the train leaves Sheffield,” John Peters, Mad's dad told the two teens when they left the ticket office.
“Thanks Mr Peters,” Ally told him.
“Enjoy yourselves and be careful,” he returned.
“Yes dad,” his daughter allowed, adding “thanks!” when he pressed a couple of notes into her hand.
“Don't tell your mother.”
“Mum's the word,” Mad smiled before giving her father a quick hug. Of course her mum had said pretty much the same earlier.
“Go on, I'll see you later.”
“Bye!”
“Come on Mad, train's here!” Ally urged even as the the Sheffield bound train rumbled into the platform outside.

The trip across to Sheffield was full of commuters and shoppers, they managed to secure seats but the ancient railcar was like a cattle truck, Bit different to Mad's last rail experience on her German 'adventure', those trains had decent seats and bags of room. Of course, at Sheffield station they had to dash from platform one to platform seven for the Manchester train.

It was another rattly old train but being that much later, the commuter traffic was missing and they even got table seats. You don't see much on the ride out of Sheffield but once through the tunnel you are in the Peak District and even on a cold, grey December day it was a nice contrast to the much flatter countryside around their home. It was the stopping train so it was almost an hour and a half later that they emerged from Manchester Piccadily station.

They joined other travellers on one of the free buses that loop the city centre, getting off near the Victoria station, just a short walk from the Arndale Centre.

“I need a wee,” Ally announced.
“Now she says,” Mad rolled her eyes, “there's some in the Arndale.”
“'kay, you get some coffee from Costa®, I'll be right back.”
 
“Of all the luck!”
“Wot Kyl?” Russ queried, momentarily diverting his attention from his burger.
“Over there.”
“Where?”
“At the end of the tram platform,” Kylie told him, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Russ looked over to where his girlfriend pointed, being close to Christmas, Manchester centre was pretty busy with shoppers, the platform no less than the street.

“Wot am I looking at?”
“Its 'er, that toff wot woz wiv Wills, there in the blue jacket.”
“In the middle?”
“Nah dummy, at the end.”
He finally homed in on the girl in question, “don't be daft, why'd she be here?”
“I'm telling ya, its 'er, prob'ly bin to 'arvey Nick's.”

A tram slid into the stop cutting off their view of the platform, a minute later it slipped away leaving a much smaller number of bodies on the platform.

“She's still there,” Kylie almost crowed.
“So?”
“Get Rodg on the phone, get him to meet us at the end of Cafedral Street wiv the van.”
“Why?”
Kylie turned and gave him a look, “just do it.”
 

Gab snuggled into her jacket a bit more, the wind more of an issue than the actual cold, Manchester hardly comparing to the Alps the other week on that score. It had been Gran's idea to come over, take a look at the Christmas market and well, have some Gran – Gaby time. They'd even used Gran's little sports car for the trip, it was clear where Mum got her driving skills, it was terrifying at times in the tiny car amongst the heavy traffic going into Manchester.

Mum and Dad? Well apparently they were meeting BC management out at the velodrome before going for dinner with Caro across in Leeds.

'Come on Gran, we'll miss the tram'. Well okay, thats not a major thing, they run every few minutes so we can just get the next one. The problem of course is that you have to buy your tickets before boarding and that means queing up in the paper shop.

To be honest, she felt a bit out of place, the chatter around her foreign to her German tuned ears. As if that wasn't enough, her outfit hardly fit in with the local teens, many of whom were sporting the hose and shorts thing despite the weather. She on the other hand had skinny jeans, ankle boots and three layers on under her ski jacket – plus a knitted bobble hat.

A tram rumbled up to the platform and she watched as passengers left and joined the behemoth before it set off into the city centre. She checked the departure board, another ten minutes until the next one, oh well. The seats were damp so she instead perched on the arm to wait for her Gran to appear with the tickets.

She looked around at 'new' Manchester, they were still building of course but compared to last time she was here this bit at least was transformed. Is it really eighteen months since she and the other girls came in to get stuff prior to the Italian training camp, Switzerland and, well everything else. Officially she was here as Drew back then but talking to everyone since, well they pretty much all thought she was a girl even before the 'unveiling' in Bern.
 
Josie was getting more than a bit irritated, the queue in the paper shop was glacier in its progress, a result largely of a succesion of customers wanting lottery tickets. They should have a seperate till for tram tickets, its about time they sorted out the machines on the platforms. It didn't help that the middle eastern chap serving was either deaf as a post or couldn't understand English, she sighed deeply as the next customer handed over a sheaf of lottery slips.

She looked out towards the tram stop, her grand daughter was patiently waiting, snugged into her jacket. It made Josie smile on the inside, after all the ups and downs the last few years Gaby was turning into a thoroughly rounded young woman, a beauty at that. Not that her older sister wasn't but Gaby, well it was unexpected.

There had been a bit of jealousy amongst her friends when Jen first got some press attention, none of their offspring amounted to more than Young Farmers totty. Not that there's anything wrong with that in such a rural community but she and Arthur always hoped more for their daughter. And Juliette and Gaby, well mostly Gaby were adding to her bragging rights.

Well all grand parents like to brag but she had quite a bit more than the rest of her circle. Oh, Margaret's Victoria has won a few rosettes at the local equestrian events and Cheryl's eldest plays for Nantwich Sevens. But she, well Gaby trumps those, World Champion, that award for top student, the singing and the look on Angela's face when Gaby appeared with Prince William.

“Next!”
 
'For heavens sake!' Ally muttered.

Finding the toilets hadn't been difficult but the queue was silly, if she didn't get in soon she wouldn't need them, a cork wouldn't be enough! In hindsight she should've gone on the train or even at the station but Mad, as usual was in a rush to get on.

It was a pity that Helen couldn't come but with her gran in hospital, well family comes before friends. Once upon a time there would've been five of them on a trip like this, one by one they'd been picked off, Gaby, well Drew back then, moving to Germany, the business with Bernie and Rhod, or is it Mfanwy these days? From what his mum said last time she went to the salon, she was going to college in Merthyr. Which left just her and Mad from the original group of friends, friends all through juniors and right up to that trip to Virginia which is where the first real cracks appeared.

The queue shuffled forward. Of course it was sort of inevitable that it'd happen sooner or later, Gaby was having a rough time with her parents and health, Mad was pushing things too. Saby did invite her over again last year but it didn't happen in the end, maybe next year.

Thinking about it, Mad's cousin was sort of the glue that held them together, it didn't matter what it was, Drew was always in the middle. The girl stuff was a bit weird at times but, well that turned out right in the end didn't it, there's no doubting that the girl, no young woman in those pictures on the telly the other day is one hundred percent female. 'I miss you Gaby Bond.'

The queue moved forward quite a bit as a black woman towing a herd of small children exited the facilities.
 

“Ey up Kyl,” Big Rodg greeted as the scrawny woman scrambled into the battered Transit, “where's Russ?”
“Keeping watch.”
“Eh?”
“Remember that posh bird?”
“At Stockie?”
“Well she's at the tram stop.”
“So why's Russ watching her? Given you t'elbow?” he chuckled.
“You wanna be rich right? He's watching so we can grab her dummy.”
“You mean kidnap 'er?”
“What else would grab mean?”
He shrugged, “i dunno.”
“So here's wot we're gonna do, I'm gonna get in the back then you're gonna drive slowly along past the tram stop.”
“We ain't allowed,” Rodg interrupted, “'s only taxis an' deliv'ries.”
“Who cares, if we get caught that'll be the least of our problems.”
“Just saying,” ten watt Rodg offered.
“Can we get back to the plan?” Kylie asked.
“Sure Kyl.”
“So we drive froo the stop, Russ'l grab her and bundle her in the back wiv me then we get out of here as fast as this fing'll go.”

Rodg wasn't quite as thick as he looked, this whole caper had the possibilty of going down the toilet quite quickly, taking all of them with it. Kylie was a forceful woman though, you didn't wanna cross 'er thats for sure. She was already climbing into the back of the van, it wasn't like he really had much choice in the matter.
 
Russ was alternating his attention between the girl and the end of the street, Kylie had been adamant that he not even cross the tracks before they turned into Cathedral Street in the van. He wasn't a hundred percent sure about this, they were petty criminals, kidnapping would take them up to Tony the Hammer's league or even higher. Yeah, definitely a step up from a bit of opportunate thievery and shop lifting, you wouldn't get suspended and probation for this.
 
“Go, go,” Kylie encouraged Big Rodg.

The van rattled into life and after a moment started moving.

Her head was fizzing like when you had a full tab, they were really gonna do this, in a few days they'd be rolling in it, they'd ask for a million, don't be greedy Kyl. Once they had the money they'll go to Spain or somewhere, away from this shit hole, yeah somewhere hot wiv proper beer and chips.
The van bounced a bit as Rodg turned across the tram lines towards the tram stop. Only a minute or so now.
 

Gab watched the van turn onto the tracks, surely they aren't allowed along here with the trams. Not that anyone seemed to be taking any notice, it probably happened all the time. Still no sign of Gran and that looks like the next tram coming up behind that daft bugger in the van, come on Gran!
 
Mad's attention was caught by the waving arm up by the Arndale entrance, about time Al. There was movement around her, she glanced back along the platform, huh, another tram coming. The surge of bodies would make going to meet Ally difficult for a minute or two so she just stayed where she was.
 
'Finally' Josie sighed as she replaced her purse in her shoulder bag, taking time to zip it into the inside pocket. Can't be too careful, Marg had hers stolen in Tesco's a couple of weeks ago, the police reckon it was a gang from up Manchester or Liverpool on a 'day trip'. Apparently they target places like Nantwich for easy pickings, low crime rates, people are less alert and the local police don't know them.

She looked outside, by where Gaby was looking – and the others on the platform, a tram was coming. Getting out of the shop was a chore, full as it was with queuing customers but she finally exited the building.

“Come on Gran!” Gaby urged waving her on.
“I'm coming.”
 
The biggest problem in the toilets was that from a dozen cubicles only four were actually in use. But eventually she got one and thankfully sat down. After holding it in for so long she now couldn't go – aargh!

The sound of taps running outside did the job and in short order she was at the sinks washing her hands. Conscious that her friend was waiting outside, hopefully with coffee, she hurried out and into the busy shopping arcade. It was easy to spot Mad as she looked up the street, amongst all the grey and black, her blue jacket drew the eye like a magnet. She waved to make sure Mad had seen her then joined the throng on the pavement.
 

Russ spotted the ageing Transit turning into Cathedral Street, oh bugger, there's a tram coming. Whatever, he set off across the tracks, the girl was still there, waving to someone, he looked to see who but couldn't readily identify anyone, his view not aided by the gathering passengers along the platform. Another glance at the approaching van, the tram coming quickly up behind it, urged him on.

'Don't rush' Kyl said, alright for her, she hasn't got to grab the girl. He wasn't far from the platform when he almost jumped out of his skin at the fog horn loud blast from the tram. Geez, the van pulled forward and Russ took that as a signal to get on with the grab,

The hapless chap started running towards the girl, it was easier than he thought it would be, she weighed hardly anything allowing him to throw her over his shoulder as he dived for the still moving van, the side door now open. He didn't quite throw her inside, Kylie grabbing her from him freeing him to shut the sliding door and get in the front. Big Rodg hit the accelerator before his mate was even inside, the van fishtailed a bit as it slipped on the rails.

“Where we going?” Rodg asked over his shoulder.
 
© Maddy Bell 10.6.2019

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

---

 

 
Mad's attention was caught by the waving arm up by the Arndale entrance, about time Al. There was movement around her, she glanced back along the platform, huh, another tram coming. The surge of bodies would make going to meet Ally difficult for a minute or two so she just stayed where she was.

“What was that all about?” Ally queried when Mad joined her on the pavement.
“No idea, some bloke ran along the platform then got in the van, what took so long?”
“The queue from hell and half the cubicles were out of order.”
“Kids and toilet paper,” Mad surmised.
“Probably,” Al agreed, “so we ready then?”
“Lets do it,” her friend enthused as they linked arms and headed for the German Market.
 
“Where we going?” Rodg asked over his shoulder.
“Out of Manchester for starters,” Kylie suggested as she grappled with the flailing bundle of girl.
“Slow down,” Russ suggested as they careened around the back of the City Hall.
“If you stop fighting I'll let you up,” Kylie told the girl, currently pinned under one of the old blankets which Rodg always had in the van for when he did furniture moves.
“Umph!” the struggling ceased and Kylie released her grip enough to slip the zip tie loop around the girls ankles before pulling them up tight.
“Ut oo ooin?”
“Just making sure you can't run off.”

Another loop secured their captives hands before she was satisfied that the girl wouldn't escape.

“So where we going Kyl?” Russ enquired from the front of the van.
“'ave to be my place, they'll be lookin' in Manchester not Stockport.”

 
“Dumkopf!” Gab muttered as the man almost ran into her as the tram and the van ahead of it came into the platform area.
“You alright?” Gran asked reaching her grandaughter.
“Yeah, you'd think he was gonna miss the tram.”
“Come on or we will,” Gran noted as the others on the platform surged towards the stopping tram.

They followed the crowd onto the tram, having to stand as they couldn't get to where Gab could see empty seats. The tram didn't set straight off, instead they stood for what felt like ever before moving off – at last! It was only a couple of stops along to the sort of tram interchange behind the City Hall, not a big distance but it saved fighting the crowds.

It was only a short walk around the building to where the 'German' market started, an area heaving with people, the familiar smell of wurst and pommes drifting on the air. It was a valliant attempt, the huge two floor drinks hall, a small 'windmill' and plenty of food.

“You want to eat yet?” Gran queried.
“Not yet but we should have some Glühwein to get in the mood,” I suggested.
“You're in charge,” Gran proposed.
 
With a mug of mulled wine in hand, the familiar smells, the buzz of the crowds – well you could almost forget that we're in England, it could be Köln or Bonn maybe. Of course, Gran had to buy the wine, they were carding and there's no way I look eighteen today. I sipped at the alcohol, not bad – well I guess they just ship it in from back home but even so.

“So what next Princess?”
“Not you too Gran?”
“Well you're my Princess.”
“If you say so,” I sighed, I flicked open the flyer I picked up whilst Gran got our drinks. “there's about five bits, we can just work our way through I guess, there's a Wheel at the far end.”
“I saw that as we walked up to the tram,” Gran noted.
“We can grab something to eat along the way,” I suggested.
“Okay, lets do it,” Gran enthused.

I drained the last of my drink, reclaimed our mug deposits and we set off into the crowds.
 
There's a sort of formula for a good Christmas market, there must be plenty of food and drink, artisan stalls and at least a few 'junk' stalls selling stuff you would never normally buy. That could be silly hats, t shirts with daft logos or even garden gnomes. Ideally they should be spread about, mixing everything up although often you get a collection of food stalls close by.

In Germany it will mostly be German street food and maybe stuff like French pizza, Belgian waffles and so on. Here in Manchester beside the German foods its a bit more international with stuff like exotic burgers, Chinese and Indian food and even fish and chips! I wasn't particularly gift shopping, but never say never. We moved on from the City Hall, a short walk taking us to another discrete group of stalls, and so it began.
 
I plonked my bum on a seat, “phew!”
“Tired?” Gran suggested.
“Footsore,” I admitted, maybe I should've worn my trainers.
“You sit here, you want one of those sausages?”

Hmm, I hadn't forgotten about food but I hadn't seen anything I fancied, I guess a Krakauer would be okay.

“A Krakauer if they've got any.”
“What's that?”
“A slightly spicy würst,” I informed her.
“Okay, I'll see what they've got, you want ketchup or anything?”
“Ketchup and mustard please.”
“Must be a German thing,” she muttered as she set off on her food quest.
 
I sat watching the crowds, back home it would mostly be families this time of day but here its more mixed. It was clear that a good number were curious whilst others were pretty obviously enjoying the availability of beer on the streets. A flash of colour caught my eye, hey that looked like Maddy, nah, what we she be doing in Manchester, I didn't get a second look, maybe its my imagination, we're going over to see the Peters tomorrow.
 
My musing was broken by Gran returning with food.

“So,” she offered me a tray, “i know you like mayonnaise on your chips.”

Well it wasn't a glob of mayo like we'd have at home but there was a general trail over the top and instead of being in brötchen the sausage was tucked in one end with a red and yellow stripe running its length. I hadn't expected the pommes but I'm not complaining. Gran sat herself down and perched her own food on her knees.

“Oo, nearly forgot,” she reached into a coat pocket and extracted two bread rolls.
“Thanks Gran, I'll get us drinks after.”
“I'll get the drinks.”
“But you've bought everything today,” I protested.
“Can't I treat my grandaughter when I see her?”

How can you argue with that logic? I reassembled my sausage in a bun, yup, it was a Krakauer, I could be back home! I did at least fetch the drinks, there's something about hot chocolate drunk al fresco at a market, makes me all squishy inside.
 
We passed on the big wheel, ten pounds each was a bit steep, I did buy a pair of Ohrring, handmade glass drops, they'll go with my posh frock. Gran let me buy her a brooch, it wasn't my style but she was happy with it. I got an overpriced bag of fudge for the rents and some pick an' mix for me, the light was closing in as we headed back to the car, well we need to get back to Gran's to make dinner.
 
“You want some of that mulled wine stuff?” Mad queried as they worked through their French Fries, Frites if its a German market she idly thought.
“They're carding,” Ally pointed out.
“And?” Mad opined, “ just need to be confident, wait here.”

Mad found a quiet corner and applied the dark red lippy she'd liberated from her mums dressing table this morning. It was only a cheap costum ring but it looked like an engagement ring, that on her third finger she slipped a ten pound note into her pocket then walked along to the Glühwein stand, timing it so there was no queue ahead of her.

“What'll it be luv?”
“Two gloo wines please.”
“You got ID luv?”
“Er sure, I get it all the time,“ she made a show of going through her purse to eventually fish the driving licence out, “here we go.”
“That's fine, its the council, they're really cracking down this year,” the bar tender told her.
She gave a shrug, “just doing their job I guess.”

Mugs were filled, money exchanged and Mad headed back to where Ally was still munching fried potato.

“Here you go.”
“Thanks, I wondered where you got to, you have any trouble?”
“Course not.”
“And whats with that lippy, you look like your Mum.”
“Thats the idea, you just need the right props,” she flashed the ring, and flashed the driving licence to her friend.
“That your mum's?”
“Don't be daft, do I look forty? Its mine dummy.”
“How?” Ally asked as she took a sip of hot beverage.
“This guy I know does like ID for Trekkies an' that, he's got a sideline in fake licences.”
“Urgh!” Al allowed as she swallowed her drink, “lets have a look then?”
“Not here dummy,” Mad hissed.
 
Neither of them had been to a 'real' German market so their experience was all a bit secondhand from what Gaby had told them and sent pictures of. Not knowing what to really expect they enjoyed checking out the stalls, although the number selling the self same Christmas decorations was a bit irksome. Whilst they'd both been to Germany, Ally with the school and Mad during her unintentional autumn adventure, their experience of the food was fairly limited.

Mad had tried a bit more when she was with the Bond's so it was with some confidence she ordered a plate of Bratkartoffeln, recognising it as something Gab had cooked up.

“So what exactly is it?” Ally asked poking at it with the plastic fork.
“Fried potato,” Mad suggested.
“Well thats not potato,” Ally stated pointing to a chunk of meat.
“Well its not just potato, there's like onion and I think thats bacon bits, when Gab made it we had fried egg on top.”
“Egg and potato? Sounds weird.”
“Egg and chips?” Mad suggested.
“I guess, we only had fries when we went to Köln, fries and chicken, fries and that schnitzel stuff, fries and sausage.”
“Think I get the picture,” Mad cut in, “they do eat other stuff you know.”
“What next?”
Maddy checked her watch, “we've got just over an hour before the train goes, another look around this bit?”
“I really should get something for my rents, what about you?”
“Yeah, I guess, lets finish this as we go.”

Neither of them had a lot to spend so their gift buying options were restricted a bit, which was probably just as well, the ceramic village was nice but a bit over the top as a thank you present. Stuff was bought, the final purchase being a bag of donuts for the journey home. They had thirty minutes to get to the train.

“Which way's the station?” Ally queried.
“Erm, I know my way from the Arndale.”
“Well which way is the Arndale?”
“Not sure, there must be a sign somewhere.”

There was, but it was hidden behind a row of cabins. With time ticking by they spotted a security guard and asked him for directions, it sounded like a proper hike, they set off at a near trot.
 
“How much further?” Ally huffed.
“Can't be far, he said we cross the main road and its just around the corner.”

They'd actually missed a turn so they were closer than they knew, when they crossed the four lane road they could see Manchester Piccadily ahead of them.

“We gonna make it?” a panicked Ally asked as they waited to cross at the next junction.
“Plenty of time,” her companion stated.

Well the train was due out in just under ten minutes.

"I need a wee,” Mad announced as they entered the concourse.
“Mad!”
“You go to the platform, I'll meet you there,” Mad suggested handing off her shopping.
“There's only five minutes before it goes.”
“I'll run.”

Luckily there wasn't a queue, Mad was in and out in two minutes flat, she was almost undone by the crowds coming off the newly arrived London train. Which did mean she saw the headline on the Manchester Evening Post being hawked at the end of platform nine.

'Girl snatched from City street'
 
Ally was waiting by the carriage door with the conductor.

“Come on lass, not going without you,” he smiled as she reached them.
“Got...huh...caught with crowd.”

Al just about dragged her inside, it was pretty full, people were still stowing bags and finding seats. The train was already moving before they were able to leave the vestibule and leave to find some accomodation. The thing with Manchester Piccadily is that its a terminus so the trains tend to fill from the buffers out, by the time they reached the front of the four carriages there were actually a few empty seats.

“Phew!” Mad allowed, sliding into a rear facing seat.
“That was close,” Ally mentioned.
“A bit.”
“A lot,” Al stated forcefully.
“There was a big crowd just come off a train, I couldn't get past, think I need one of those donuts.”

There was nothing to see except their own reflections in the windows, the gloom of December having quickly given way to full on darkness. Donuts were consumed in tired silence, the whole carriage seemed to be in a similar state of lethargy, conversations were muted allowing the faint strains of music leaking from someones headphones to reach them.

“Did you see the headline on the local rag?” Mad asked.
“Chad?”
“Where am I gonna see that?”
“Sorree!”
“The Manchester one,” Maddy enlarged.
“They've cancelled Christmas?”
“Be daft, apparently a girl was snatched in Manchester today.”
“Really? Thats scary, who'd want to do that?”
“There are some sick people out there, I hope she's alright.”
“Yeah,” Mad agreed.

The sad thing was, that on past experience these things rarely ended well, her parents hadn't really said much after her inadvertant trip across the North Sea but, she realised with new insight, they had probably been thinking the worst. She gave a shudder, what if she hadn't found the Bond's, or got lost in that forest – well more than she had.

“You alright? You were muttering.”
“Er yeah.”
“You want a drink when the trolley gets here?”
“Er yeah, good idea.” Mad agreed.
 
© Maddy Bell 25.6.2019

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

---

 

 
An urgent need to use the bathroom woke me, sometime during the night i'd clearly been a bit warm as the duvet was wodged up against the wall. I made a dash for the facilities, initially a bit confused when I couldn't find the door to the en suite before remembering I'm in Gran's box room. My business done I hurried back to my bed and snuggled into the welcoming folds of the duvet before locating my handy to check the time – urgh, quarter to five.

Christmas Day, whether you are religious or not, its the one day of the year that we all love or loath. Back when Jules and me were little, okay, younger, we'd be bouncing with excitement at this time on the big day, the promise of gifts somehow negating the need for any sort of alarm. This morning however, well I just want to get back to sleep, gift exchanges can wait, I'm not five anymore.

So of course I'm wide awake, sleep a distant hope, in frustration I turned over again. I lay in the darkness listening to the cottage, Bond Acres back in Germany is quiet at night, well apart from the distant rumblings of the boiler down in the basement. But Gran's cottage was built in eighteen something, you don't notice during the day but in the silence of the night its far from silent.

Of course, its mostly the fabric of the building cooling and resettling but mixed in with the creaks and groans, I could hear other, I don't know, scuffles and what sounded like footsteps. It's probably something like mice, mice with clogs on by how loud some of it was. I didn't dare think of it being anything else, rats perhaps or some huge spider maybe, I gave an involuntary shiver and pulled the bedding even tighter around me.

My mind wandered to less scary subjects. I wonder how Mand's getting on, i've never met her mum but Dad has, according to him she isn't the immovable rock of anti bike that Mand paints her. Far from it, so I guess theres more going on with Mand, maybe they can make their peace, I certainly hope so, I'm pretty sure she wants a better relationship.

Sometimes i've caught her watching me and Mum with a look of, I dunno, not envy exactly, not in a green eyed monster jealous way, more like longing I guess. We might live under the same roof, eat the same food, share some friends and so on but I wouldn't say we talk that much about personal stuff. I guess it must be difficult for her on a lot of levels, its not like rural Dernau, or the wider valley, has an obvious lesbian community, doesn't mean there aren't any, just that they aren't in your face obvious.

Another look at my phone revealed all of ten minutes have passed since I last looked, for heavens sake. I allowed myself a big yawn before turning over to face the wall, trying to clear my mind of everything except sleep. Sounds of a car out on the road travelled easily in the early morning silence, who on earth is out driving at five on Christmas Day?
 

“You getting up?” Mum enquired from the door.
“Hmmm,” I managed from under the duvet, “time is it?”
“Almost eight,” ahe advised.
“Eight?”
“Eight,” she confirmed, “your Gran's doing a full English.”
“Really?”
“I suggest if you want some you shake a leg young lady.”

I pushed the duvet back a bit, now my brain was slightly engaged I realised there was the faint aroma of frying in the air.

“Okay.”
“And put on something decent.”
“Really?” I complained – look I'm a teenager, its what we do.
“Really, we're going to church this morning.”
“Do I have to?”
“Yes you do and don't be all day.”
“Urgh, five minutes.”

The closing of the door suggested Mater was satisfied.
 
The Bond clan have never been religious, but since our move to Germany, its sort of become a tradition to go to midnight mass on Weihnachts at St Johannes. Not just us, but a good lump of the local population head towards the church to sing a few carols, listen to the priest and so on. Its not so bad, well I got conned into singing Silent Night last year, then its back home for a mug of 'fortified' cocoa before bed.

I guess its more of a Catholic thing, here in England the nearest service was in Nantwich so Gran suggested we go to St Mary's just along the road here in Acton this morning. At least I won't have to reprise my solo carol singing, the people of Cheshire are thankfully oblivious to my singing skills, or lack thereof. The biggest downside is that even I know you dress up for church and even more so at Chrimbo.

When Mum cautioned me to bring some 'extra' frocks, I hadn't been thinking church, more like party so my choice was immediately reduced, I don't think a thigh skimming, sequin encrusted sheath is exactly appropriate. On the other hand the Old's will frown if appear in my denim skirt and skinny jumper even if it is quite a smart combo. Nope, looks like its the D&G almost by default, I'll have to get Mum to do something with my birds nest, where's Mand when you need her?

Of course, you don't wear designer frocks with CundA undies, good job i've got a selection of fancy lingerie at my disposal. I found a suitable bra and knicker set, with a matching garter belt thingy. Okay, I brought them to wear with the D&G along with a pair of diaphonous black stockings, Wolford of course, along with the matching clutch and my best, ludicrously expensive black heels. Yep the whole kit and kaboodle.
 
“Anything I can do?” I asked poking my head into the kitchen after only fifteen minutes beyond the promised five.
“Can you take the toast through,” Gran requested without turning from the stove.
“Er sure,” I agreed spotting the rack of browned bread on the kitchen table, “butter, jam?”
“On the side,” Gran advised turtning to me, “oh my, is that really my grandaughter?”
“Are the eggs....” Mum started coming in from the lounge cum dining room, “ready? Damn kiddo, your Dad'll have to put his suit on now.”
“I can go change?”
“You dare,” Gran told me, “you look a million dollars, you'll show the locals what class really looks like, go through to the lounge.”
“What about the toast?”
“You are not carrying food around wearing that,” Mum told me, “i'll find you a napkin so you don't spill anything on yourself.”
“Er, okay, you think someone can do something with my hair before we go out?”
“I reckon we can manage that,” Gran opined, “now scoot.”
 
There are of course many variations of Full English, from basic sausage, egg and bacon to a plate groaning with black pudding, kidneys, tomatoes, mushrooms, beans, fried bread, hash browns maybe with some regional variation. Gran's Christmas variation wasn't quite as extensive, poached eggs, back bacon, local pork sausages, mushrooms, black pudding, fried tomato and fried bread. I'm glad we won't have dinner until this evening, even ol' hollow legs would be struggling if it was earlier.

“More tea anyone?” Dad queried.
“Er please,” I requested, Gran's always been a tea person so I guess I'll have to put up with it until I can get some coffee later.
“What time do we need to leave Mum?” Mum asked.
“It starts at ten so we've got a few minutes,” Gran told us.
“I'd best sort out her majesties hair then,” Mum suggested.
 

“What made you wear this?” Mum asked as she brushed my hair out.
“You said wear something decent,” I mentioned.
“I was thinking a bit less dressy.”
“It was either this or a party dress, its not like I brought a lot with me.”
“Hmm, so how am I doing this?”
“One of those French plait things?” I suggested.
“I guess that'd work,” she allowed.

 
“Well?” Dad asked a short time later.
“Very handsome,” Mum smarmed giving him a lipstick laden kiss on the cheek.

I could only agree, I might be a bit biased being his daughter but when he makes the effort he does wash up well, I can quite see why Mum fell for him. Of course, it helps that I'm quite partial to a man in Kostum myself, he'll certainly stand out at St Mary's amongst the locals in their sombre lounge suits.

“Best wipe your face,” I suggested, “you've got lippy everywhere.”
“Here,” Gran did the spit and hanky thing to remove Mum's pink smear.
“We going or what?” I prompted.

Thankfully it was quite mild, the sun was shining weakly from a broad expanse of blue sky, the damp vestiges of a few patches of overnight frost making the footway a bit damp in places. Not that its warm, Gran was wearing a blazer over her dress, Mum a jacket and I borrowed a lacy shawl from Gran which actually went quite well with the rest. Given my heels and the less than level paths I was glad Dad offered me his arm, at least I had something to hang on too!

“Good morning Josie,” the priest chap greeted Gran as we approached the door.
“Morning Vicar.”
“And Jenifer, so nice to see you,” he went on.
“Its been a while Vicar, you remember Dave my husband?”
“Indeed,” he agreed shaking Dad's hand, “but who is this young lady?”
“You christened her Vicar, my youngest Gabrielle,” Mum advised.

Damn, Sunday name as well as dressed to the nines.

An expression of confusion briefly flickered across his face, of course when he did the christening I was Drew, even if I was in a dress – well the family christening gown at least, i've seen the pictures.

“Nice to see you Gabrielle, you've certainly grown since I last saw you.”
“Er yeah,” I agreed.
“You don't by any chance sing, we're short a soprano this morning? Young Ellie Brown has been struck down with laryngitis.”
“She'd be delighted to,” Mum got in before I could refute my ability in the warbling.
“Oh excellent! You are a godsend but of course I should have guessed by your name, thank you so much Gabrielle.”

You haven't heard me sing yet buster.

“We'd best go in,” Gran suggested.
“Josie could you introduce your grandaughter to Pamela for me, she's been panicking something terrible since Ellie's mum rang earlier.”
“Of course Vicar,” Gran agreed.

Damn, looks like my goose is well and truly cooked.
 
Of course, we got some strange looks as we moved down the aisle, Gran had spotted a vacant pew near the front so pretty much the whole congregation got to see the Bond's.

“Why'd you say I can sing?” I whispered to Mum as we made the transit.
“Because you can and do very well, it was you at the Rheinhalle wasn't it?”
“That was hardly church singing.”
“But the Angels do, Gabrielle.”

She's got me there.

 
“Thank you so much for doing this Gabrielle,” Pamela told me a few minutes later after Gran had done the introductions, “i thought that we'd have to drop Silent Night and the congregation do so like to hear that, its the Vicar's favourite too, sorry, I should've asked, you know the words?”
“Er sure, course.”

The rest of the 'choir' consisted of half a dozen pre teens and a similar number of adults all wearing white gowns things. The absent Ellie was apparently the star of the whole shebang, a couple of years my junior and a regional finalist in chorist or whatever they are called of the year for the last two years. I didn't get to wear a gown but I was installed with the rest of the choir to one side of the altar facing the congregation.

 
I won't bore you with the whole service, well to be honest I wasn't paying that much attention. Being in the choir meant I had to do more singing than the congregation, the musical accompaniment was from a motley group of musicians, an acoustic guitar, an upright piano and some sort of recorder thing. This was no modern arm waving, hip congregation, I think you'd call it High Church, a religious show with all the bells whistles and finery, I felt a little out of place to be honest.

We'd been going for nearly forty minutes I think when the chap on the guitar started a bit of an intro, the familiar chords of Silent Night. I've so far managed to contain my singing enthusiasm, just following the others, I must've done okay as Pamela was happily smiling as she waved her stick thing about. But this one I get to replace the angelic voice of Ellie with my own, fitting right, Gabrielle replacing their own angel – well I thought it was funny anyhow.

I've done enough school singing to follow the stick waving, Pamela was counting me in, I took a deep breath, closed my eyes to calm myself, when I opened them Pam was just signalling I should start.

'Stille Nacht,
heilige Nacht,
Alles schaeft,
einsam wacht Nur das traute hochheilig Paar.
Holder Knabeim lockigen Haar,
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!
Schlaf in himmlischer Ruh!'

I'd expected the rest of the choristers to join me for the second verse instead of which it was just yours truly warbling, oh well, I gave it a bit more gusto and through into the third verse. When the Angels have sung it we've usually done a reprise of the first verse at the end which seems to go well and as I was now lost in the singing I didn't notice the guitar stopping, instead I just took a breath and repeated the first stanza before stopping.
I was more than a little taken aback when the congregation started clapping, even standing to do so. Not just the congregation, the rest of the choir added their hands, I'm sure Pamela had tears in her eyes, oops, I think i've mucked up. The clapping eventually subsided, bums returned to seats and the entertainment manager took control once more.

“Thank you Gabrielle for such a beautiful rendition of Silent Night in the original German no less. Gabrielle, friends, agreed to step in for poor Ellie at very short notice. The last time I saw this young woman was at her christening, here in this very same church, since when she and her family have moved first across the Pennines and then to live in Germany. So I'm all the more grateful for her willingness to join our choristers today. I'm sure you'll join me in thanking her again for sharing her beautiful voice with us this morning.”

Well you know me and praise, I blushed in places you don't mention in polite company as a more restrained round of applause echoed around the building. There wasn't much more to the service, we might not be religious but seven years of school assemblies where the Lords Prayer was said tends to rub off a bit so I managed to not look a complete dork.

 
“Do you sing in a choir at home Gabrielle?” Pamela asked, buttonholing me before I had a chance to escape back to my family.
“Er not exactly,” I told her, “i sometimes sing with some friends.”
“Don't be so vague Gaby,” Gran interrupted, “she sang at the Rheinhalle in Bonn last month Pamela.”
“Gran,” I moaned.
“What are your band called Gab,” Gran steamrollered on.
“BlauHase and I told you, its not my band I'm just the singer.”
“Always so shy, Pamela.”
“Sorry,” one of the adult choristers put in, “i couldn't help overhearing, did I hear you right, you sing with BlauHase?”
“Er yeah,” I agreed, “you've heard of us?”
“Don't be so surprised, sorry Michael by the way, I might sing in the choir but my musical tastes are pretty varied, you were at Moselfest last summer right?”

Moselfest, now that was quite a day!

“Uh huh.”
“I remember now, the lead singer, I remember she had blue hair?”
“Pink actually, its nearly grown out thank Gott.”
“Just testing,” Michael grinned, “you certainly belted out those songs, you should hear her sing Bohemian Rhapsody Pam, I'll dig out the CD. For you.”
“If its anything like her Silent Night it must be good,” Pam proposed.
“CD?” it was my turn to interrupt.
“Highlights of the festival, I must admit, I went to see Quo but there were some good local bands and you guys were some of the best.”
“CD?” I repeated.
“Oh yeah, you can get it online, you guys released anything yourselves?”
“Only tapes at the gigs, nothing professional.”

I know Stefan and the guys hope to take things up a step but its not happened yet, I'm only a part time addition after all.

“You should put some stuff on the internet, lots of people are looking for music on there, from all over the world too,” my fan boy advised.
“I'll mention it to the guys when I get back.”
 

I hadn't really given it a lot of thought, go to the service then go home right? Apparently not, while Michael and Pam had been bending my ear the majority of the congregation had moved next door to the church hall. By the time Gran escorted me across they were deep into mince pies and coffee, first the entertainment, then the socialising.

“There you are,” Mum mentioned spotting us.
“We got waylaid,” Gran advised.

Partly because of your boasting Gran!

“You want coffee Mum, Gab?” Dad queried.
 
© Maddy Bell 14.6.2019

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

---

 

 
It was after one by the time we got back to Gran's, seems that everyone wanted to make the acquaintance of the guest warbler. I was regretting wearing my designer frock too, apparently one of the 'fashion' magazines had a feature on D&G in the last issue and my frock was included. Its a sad fact that the women around here only aspire to what the lifestyle mags tell them, even if they can only afford look alikes.

Don't get me wrong, I'm really not a clothes horse, the designer label stuff I have is largely down to my mysterious benefactor. Okay so I appreciate quality brands but my every day stuff is pure high street, C&A, H&M, Tally and so on. Lets face it, fancy lingerie is all very well when you are dressed up but its not exactly a good choice when you are dunking Frites and flipping Schnitzel.
 

“Can you give your Gran a hand?” Mum requested finding me slumped in one of Gran's armchairs.
“Er okay, maybe I should change?”
“See what she needs first.”
“Whatever,” I sighed pulling my stilts back on – I am not risking a ladder in these stockings.

“Mum says I should give you a hand?” I offered poking my head into the kitchen.
“Thanks love, your mother always wants to take over, so how are you with bread sauce?”
“Um, not sure, don't think i've ever made it.”
“Its easy enough, don't tell anyone but I use packet stuff, there's an apron in the larder you can use.”

Gran was treating us to Christmas dinner XXL, that doesn't neccesarily mean the plate is piled high rather that it has everything you can imagine. Turkey, beef, mash, roasts, sprouts, carrots, cauliflower, string beans, pigs and of course Yorkshire pud. On top of that are all the condiments, bread sauce, cranberry and gravy, so yes its a big dinner but if you don't have huge servings of stuff its not over powering.

There is a starter, not soup or anything heavy but a piece of smoked fish with a bit of salad and a white sauce of some sort and whilst I love Christmas pudding, Gran's doing a winter berry sorbet. Okay, its not everyones idea of the annual feast – its a lot more than my German friends will celebrate with but I'm sure a lot of those at this mornings service at St Mary's will be sitting down to much bigger plates.

Maybe if we'd been at Bond acres the veggies and stuff would be on the table but there's only four of us and Gran's table isn't huge so between us we plated up the meals apart from the sauces, covering them before placing them in the cooling oven.

“We ready?” Gran asked my parents, arms laden with a tray of starters.
“Sure Mum,” Mum answered, “you want the Queen on?”
“Turn it off for now, I'm sure we'll get a repeat if we miss it.”

Plates were distributed and after the traditional cracker pulling and toasting, with a bottle of wine from the Sebenschuh vineyards, we started our meal.
 

“Anyone want coffee?” Mum asked.
“I'll do it,” I volunteered.
“You helped with dinner, my turn to contribute,” I was informed in no uncertain terms.
“I'd prefer tea Jen,” Gran opined.
“Dave?”
“Yeah, I think tea for me too,” Dad allowed.
“Gaby?”
I shrugged, “why not, we've been drinking coffee half the day.”
“I'll do a pot then,” Mum advised collecting the dessert plates up to take with her.

Christmas lunch, dinner whatever, had, for once been an unhurried affair and quite convivial. I was a bit dubious about the starter, I'm not a great fish eater, we don't really eat a lot back home, there's no tradition of fish and chips and the local rivers are not exactly renowned for their piscine bounty. Having prepared myself for the worst it was a surprise to find myself enjoying the smoked mackerel and even the slightly sweet dressing.

As for the main event, it was a lesson in 'less is more', okay, I could've managed a couple more sprouts and maybe another roast tatty but just because you can doesn't mean you should. So for a change I wasn't feeling stuffed, just pleasantly full as I helped clear the rest of the table. Mind you, I think i've put on at least a kilo, my dress is definitely feeling a bit tight around the middle.
 
“Are we gonna do prezzies?” I asked.

Oh I know i've had my main present, the Mofa of course and then there's my new race shoes but they aren't really a Chrimbo gift are they? There must be something from Gran and my sister at least, Nan and Gramps Bond will have sent money, its nice but not the same as an actual prezzie. If nothing else, i've got stuff to give out, its not all about receiving after all.

“I suppose so,” Dad allowed.
“Kewl!” I pretty much jigged.
“You'd think she was seven not seventeen,” Mum stated arriving with a tray of tea things.
“Leave the girl be,” Gran chuckled, “you were just the same once upon a time.”
“I was not.”
“You don't remember the wheels then?”
“That was different,” Mum suggested.
“You were eighteen,” Gran told us.
“Wheels?” I queried.
“Mum!” Mum complained.
“Your mother had been going on about wanting some new race wheels for months, your Grandfather had them built for her up in Manchester but somehow she still got wind. Anyway, Christmas Day and Art had the wheels hidden in the car, we had an old Cortina, this one,” she motioned towards Mum, “was fit to burst, she'd searched the house and couldn't find them.”
“The car was sneaky,” Dad noted.
Mum sobered a bit, “that was his last Christmas, I was such a pain to him.”
“Its not like we knew what was coming up Jen,” Gran pointed out.
“I know, but ...”

Of course, you probably don't know about Grandad Peters do you? Well I never knew him, he died in 1982, a victim of the Argentine attack on HMS Sheffield in the Falklands War. I guess I might get my cooking gene from him though, he was head Chef, killed instantly when the missile hit the ratings galley. As far as we know his body lies with the Sheffield somewhere off the Falklands.

Dad cuddled Mum, “come on Jen, its supposed to be Christmas,”
“But he never even saw me use the damned wheels,” Mum sniffed.
“He would've been proud with what you did Jenny,” Gran told her, “you won the British championship on those wheels.”

Wow, I never knew that, I mean, why would I, it was before I was born after all.

“Really?” I asked.
“Really,” Dad confirmed, “they're in your Mothers old Harry Hall still.”
“After all these years Dave?” Gran asked.
“They're still good wheels, maybe not up to modern standards but SSC's on Super Record were the bees knees back then.”

Mum was still a bit red eyed but her crying jag was over at least.
 
“This ones for you Gran,” I announced.

As is our tradition, as youngest family member I get to distribute the gifts, not just mine but everyone puts them in a pile and I work through handing them out.
“thank you,” Gran allowed taking what looked to be a book or something, the writing was obviously my sister's.

Some people are meticulous in unwrapping, taking great care to not tear the paper, thankfully Gran isn't one of them! She quickly revealed something wrapped in that bubble stuff which soon joined the paper on the floor.

“Oh my!”
“What is it Gran?”
Mum snorted, ”what has she done now?”

Gran didn't reply but rather turned the picture frame around for the rest of us to see.
“Is that...” Dad started.

I squiggled around to get a better look – oh sugar, no wonder she didn't want to come with us.

“I'll kill him!” Mum quietly stated.
“Don't be hasty, it takes two Jen,” Dad pointed out.

It was quite clear when I took the picture from Gran's hand, one of those scans they do when you're pregnant, yup, looks like my sister is in the family way. Scrawled across one corner was 'Happy Christmas Gran, meet your Great Grandaughters, Love Juliette and Boris'. I looked at the picture again, OMG she's having twins!

“Mum, its twins!”

Talk about a stick in a wasp nest, present distribution was sidelined as a call was placed to Germany. Of course the conversation was quickly filled with the when's, we all know the how! The imminent demise of Boris will wait until we return to Germany. For the record, she's due in June so she'll finish the year at Uni, apparently she can defer the second year if she wants to. I guess Jules has trumped Mum's wheels.
 
“You haven't got any surprises for us?” Gran queried after we'd wet the impending arrivals heads with another glass of wine.
“Gra-an.”
“She better not,” Mum intoned.
“She's a sensible girl Jen,” Gran stated in my defence.
“I thought her sister was.”

I felt myself colour up a bit, memories of that panic when we went up to Bonn flittered across my memory, I guess it would've been the immaculate conception but it sure had me worried for a few days.

“Thanks Gran,” I leant across the sofa to give her a quick hug, well not quite so quick.

We eventually got back to the physical present giving business asThe Vicar of Dibley came on the telly. The TV didn't stand a chance when gifts were being opened, i'd already opened Jules contribution, a gift card for a store that, well lets just say I'm not going to broadcast what they sell to my parents and Gran! What does a Gran by her teenage grandaughter? Only a new phone, one of those Motorola Razr Android ones with a camera and stuff!

The rents added a delicate gold neck chain with an Amber drop, Manda a pair of Opal studs and my cousin a Hermione Granger figurine, you know from Harry Potter. My largese ran to a bracelet for Mum, a Kostum style jacket for Gran and for Dad I went thirds with Jules and Mand to get him a Campagnolo corkscrew (we didn't actually bring it to England, just a picture and a half bottle of a nice red.

But it has to be said, Jules' news pretty much trumped everything else.
 
I stifled a yawn, “think I'll go to bed.”
“Tired kiddo?” Dad asked.
“Yeah, I feel like i've been up forever.”
“It has been quite charged,” he agreed.
“Thanks for the presents.”
“You're welcome Gab,” Gran told me.
“G'night,” I offered scooping up my prezzies.
“Night kiddo – and hang that dress up,” Mum instructed.
“Yes Mum,” I sighed.

To be truthful i'd forgotten what I was wearing, I had swapped my heels for slippers – yeah, high fashion but comfort trumps looks, especially when its only family gonna see you. I did the eye roll as I turned back to the door.

“And don't roll those eyes at me.”

How does she do that?
 
It didn't take me long to get ready for bed, a shower can wait until the morning, I left my hair but did take the time to clean my face of slap. I shivered as I climbed under the duvet, everything felt cold, not that the cottage was cold but you know what I mean. The light went out and I made a nest of the duvet and pillows against the wall.

So of course, I came to bed because I'm whacked out and then can't get to sleep, grrrr! Instead I lay amongst the bed clothes replaying the days events. The presents have been pretty cool, okay there's not a lot but I have got the Mofa too, I'm certainly not complaining. But Jules, talk about depth charging things!

Hmph, looks like I'm gonna be a Tante for real, well I sort of am already with Drea but I'm more honory there, Jules twins will really be my nieces. It sounds weird saying that, I can't believe the news really but the proof is in the picture as they say. I wonder what she'll do with Uni, she sounded pretty upbeat about going back to finish her course but I guess its easy to do that now before the reality of tiny feet.

And then the choir business this morning, that was weird and embarrasing, much! More so that that Michael chap saw BlauHase at Moselfest, when he asked for my autograph too, I didn't know what to write. Hmm, must see about getting a copy of that DVD, wonder if Stefan has one, he's never mentioned anything.

We didn't have any tea did we? I suppose Chrimbo dinner was quite late and we did have a fry up this morning....
 

“Well that went better than I thought it would,” Jules mentioned as she cuddled with Boris, their student flat wasn't exactly luxurious but the heating worked unlike the shower which only worked on days with an F in – if you were lucky.
“You think?”
“She didn't outright threaten to cut your bits off.”
“That's supposed to make me feel safe?”
“She'll get over it, its not like she doesn't know we've been sleeping together is it?”
“Guess not,” Boris allowed before taking a swig from his bottle of Krombacher.
“I mean,” Jules pressed on, “i could understand her being surprised if it was Gab.”
“I wouldn't want to be on the same continent if I'd got your sister pregnant!”
“And how would you get my baby sister pregnant?”
“The same way we got these,” he told her, “hypothetically of course,” he hurriedly added.
“Hmm, you think they've done it?” Jules queried.
“Max and your sister? How would I know?”
“You talk with him.”
“Hi Max, you doing it with Gaby? Geez, Jule, like we're gonna have that conversation. Don't you talk to her?”
“Not really – hope she liked the gift card.”
“That was a bit mean.”
“Why? Its not like she doesn't know the place, its not all Toys and stuff, she could get some stuff to wear with BlauHase, corset or something.”
“I still think it was a bit, I dunno off, specially when she got you that coat and my belt wasn't cheap.”
“She'll see the funny side.”
“If you say so.”
“You think I should've rung Mum before?”
“It was your call.”
“I thought it'd be a nice surprise.”
“Shock more like,” Boris opined.
Jules reached over her boyfriend to grab a biscuit, “it's still snowing.”
“Forecast said it would,” Boris noted, “this TV is rubbish, why do they have to put this Heimatsmusik on?”
“They're probably watching James Bond at Gran's.”
“We could put a DVD on?”
“Or we could go to bed,” she suggested.
 

“You think they're gonna be alright?” Jen posed.
“Who?” Dave mumbled from behind her ear, the pair of them spooned together under the duvet.
“Jules and Boris.”
“Thought you wanted to chop his bits off.”
“Who said I still don't. We're gonna be grand parents Dave.”
“Thats the usual way of these things,” Dave agreed.
“I don't think I'm ready to be a grandma.”
“You think Jules is ready to be a mum?”
“I doubt it.”
“I sure as hell wasn't ready to be a dad when Jules turned up.”
“She was planned though,” Jen mentioned.
“Still doesn't prepare you for a new little person arriving.”
“Twins,” Jen mused.
“They'll be okay love, we'll make sure of that.”
“What about Gaby?”
“What about her?”
“You don't think she'll, you know, want to join the party?”
“Gaby? She's taking contraception, isn't she?”
“She's getting her prescription but whether she's taking them.”
“You think she's sleeping with Max?”
“They're both nearly seventeen, what do you think?”
“I think I'll have to polish the shotgun.”
Jen slapped at her partner, “don't be daft.”
“You think we should have a tete a tete when we get home?”
“About what?”
“The birds and bees,” Dave offered.
“She's seventeen not stupid Dave.”
“I know, but, well she's done some daft things before.”
“Okay, I'll have a talk with her,” Jen allowed.
 
© Maddy Bell 17.6.2019

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

---

 

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

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

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

I dangled the spare cottage set in confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My ears pricked up, lunch?

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

Mu-um.

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

Why wouldn't I be?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mad turned around to look in the dressing table mirror.

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

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

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

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

“We could go see Ally,” Mad proposed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

 

 
“Never guess what?” my cousin posed to Ally.
“What?” Ally returned without breaking off from mashing the tea.
“Guess who was in Manchester yesterday?”
“Julia Roberts.”
“Close, Gab was there with her Gran.”
“At the market Gab?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “She wanted to take a look and my olds had stuff to do.”
“You make it sound like a hardship,” Al suggested.
“Well I had to drink the Glühwein, eat the Krakauer and Pommes,” I smirked.
“You!” Ally playfully slapped my shoulder.
“The look on your face,” I snorted.
“You've got a cute accent, certainly not Warsop anymore.”

Urgh! The c word!

“I don't talk English much at home.”
“I guess not,” she allowed.
“Before I forget, I got you this,” I presented her with a small gift bag, “Frohes Weihnachts!”
“You shouldn't've.”
“It’s not much,” I told her.
“I didn't get you anything though.”
“You sent a card.”
“Hardly the same is it?”
“It’s not a competition,” I pointed out.
“Still.”
“Just open it will ya,” my cousin interjected.
“Can I?” she asked me.
“In Germany we do all the presents on Weihnachts, go for it.”
 
I brought presents for each of my Warsop crew, well Helen, Ally and Mad, Rhod or Mfanwy was away in Wales now, he, she had been tight with Ally but with the whole girl thing, that had gone a bit sour. Oh well, anyway I got each of them some real Lubeck marzipan and a necklace with a gem stone drop, Ally's is polished Agate, Mad has Rose Quartz and Helen's is Amber. Nothing fancy but they'll get more out of them than the usual 'friends' gifts.

“Its gorgeous Gab!” Al pulled me into an enthusiastic hug, “I really miss you being around.”
“I miss you guys too,”
“You've got loads of friends in Germany,” she opined.
“But I didn't go through Junior school or America with them.”
“We had some fun eh?” Ally smirked.
“What?”
“Just thinking about Grottoes, you two swapping places.”

Hmm, one of my least favourite episodes, that lad was really convinced he was gonna get to third base with me – well Mad.

“Yeah, great fun,” I replied flatly.
“Oh, come on Gab,” Mad joined in, “It was quite a lark.”

Truth be told, it was a really dark time for me, Mum was sick, I didn't know whether I’d ever see her again. And of course, I was having my own health issues, the first real indications of what was to follow. My head was all over the place, okay, it all worked out in the end but I'm not so sure it would've gone so well if we hadn't moved to Dernau.

“Remember that day we went to Meadowhell and Mad pierced your ears?”

I've tried to forget it.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “Not that it helped, Jules saw straight through it.”
“You never said,” Al observed.
“What was to tell?”
 
We'd been talking for a good hour or so before Bernie was mentioned in more than passing.

“Is Bernie okay?”

Good question, not sure that I know really.

“I guess so, Drea is getting to be a handful,” best not mention she's preggers again.
“I can't believe she's nearly two,” Ally opined.
“Eighteen months,” I corrected.
“Doesn't seem that long.”
I shrugged, “Probably seems like forever to Bern.”
“Is he gonna marry her?”
“Mart?” with the latest news from the Preiser household I can't imagine he won't, “I think he wants to get through college first.”
“Guess that makes sense, his rents must be total bricks, taking Bern and Drea in.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, “She's not getting a free ride, she has to help out around the farm, they're not exactly rich.”
“I thought all farmers were loaded,” Mad suggested.
“Some might be, the Preiser’s don't have new cars or anything, I think they get by but they certainly aren't rolling in it.”
 

“So, are you and Max, you know?” Ally asked.
“Al's still waiting for Mr Right,” Mad interrupted.
“Some of us have standards,” Al offered in her own defence.

Pissssshhhh!

“We've slept together,” I told them.

So it was once and we were both well out of it after that Blau Hase gig when we stopped with Jules and Boris. Okay it really was sharing the same sleeping space, if they add two and two and get five, that’s up to them.

“Yo girlfriend!” Mad cheered.
“We have sort of been a couple for a couple of years.”
“Before your, er stuff was sorted?”
“Well not seriously, the rents are pretty okay with us now,” well it’s not a lie.
“They know you're sleeping together?” Mad asked.
“Did you tell yours about James?” I countered.
“Not exactly,” she admitted.
“They aren't stupid, they know sure enough.”

Well I'm not going on exactly personal experience of course, but on what Mum's said about Jules and Boris. I mean, I'm not gonna say, 'hey sis, you banging Boris?' am I?

“There no one at the College now?”
“Give over Gab, that load of losers,” Mad told me, “Geeks or guns.”

I raised a brow, who's calling the kettle now?
 
© Maddy Bell 25.06.2019

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

---

 

 
​ Beyond the tiny perspex window the view was grey, grey clouds, grey sky and the little bit of ground visible through the clouds was, yep, grey. Gaby sighed and returned her attention to inside the cabin.

​ “I'd kill for some Currywurst," Mand opined.
​ “Eh?"
​ “Have you been listening? I said I’d kill for a Currywurst, I’m sick of the sight of Turkey and leftovers."
​ “Oh right, maybe they'll have some at the airport," I suggested.

​ Maybe that's a good thing, that all she's bothered about is a spiced-up sausage, last year Dad was rescuing her from the airport after she threw a hissy with her mum.

​ “Urgh, and decent coffee, gran uses that powder stuff, it’s like drinking dishwater," she droned on.
​ “Right," I allowed.
​ “You're not listening, are you?" she observed.
​ “Soz, stuff on my mind, something about coffee?"
​ “Doesn't matter, so what's troubling your grey matter?"

​ What indeed? A lot happened in the last week, some good, some not so good. On the plus side, we are going down to spend New Year with the Taxis clan again, well it’s a case of killing two birds as we'll be stopping off to see my sister too.​ On the one hand her news is, whilst unexpected, great. On the other, well let's just say that I’m expecting more than just New Year fireworks. Then of course there's the whole leaving England again - I know what it says on my passport but England really is home.

​ “I hate saying goodbye to Gran," I sighed.
​ “She's coming over at Easter though?" Mand suggested.
​ “That's months away, what about you, don't you miss everyone in Croydon?"
​ “Sometimes," de Vreen admitted “But it's not like I have loads of friends there."
​ “I guess."
​ “So, what're we doing tomorrow?"
​ “Tomorrow? What's happening tomorrow?"
​ “Dur, that's what I’m asking you dummy,"
​ “Laundry? I've run out of clean knickers."
​ “TMI Bond, after the laundry."
​ “Dunno, might go up to see Bern and Drea."
​ “Oh," by her tone, that wasn't what she wanted to hear.
​ “Can find out what the rest of the gang are doing?" I counter proposed, you got any ideas?"
​ “Thought maybe we could go to Bonn; I’ve got some money from the GP's waiting to be spent."
​ I perked up a bit, “Why didn't you just say?"
​ “Well I didn't know if you'd made plans."
​ “If it gets me off the Rent's radar, I’m all for it, I think Bern's parents are here until the New Year so it'll be packed up the farm anyway. Could ask the girls to come to Bonn?"
​ “Do you mind if they don't?"
​ I shrugged, “Guess not, there was some mumbling of going to Koln after New Year."
​ “That'd be good."

​There was a bong and the 'fasten seatbelts' signs came on followed by the spiel in advance of our landing. Any coherent conversation was soon rendered impossible as everyone prepared themselves to end this part of their journey. With a slight thump we returned to terra firma and for the next thirty minutes did the queue and shuffle to luggage reclaim.

​This time Mum headed straight through to fetch the car, much easier than us all toting bags half way across the airport. Much to Mand's annoyance, there was no currywurst stand. So we settled for coffee while we waited for Mum to get back with the Saab.
​  
​ “So, what are you pair up to tomorrow?" Mum asked, having relinquished driving duties outside of arrivals.
​ “Mand wants to go to Bonn."
​ “Anything special?"
​ “Just looking 'round the shops," Mand replied.
​ “Would've thought you'd both had your fill of shopping in England."
​ “Never got a chance," Manda told us, “Well a quick look around Brighton when we went to see Uncle Pat."
​ “Gran wanted to do the Christmas Market so we didn't even get in the Arndale," I added.
​ “What a sorry pair you are, no shopping for seven days."
​ “Mu-um!"

​ I know she's on the wind up but still.

​ “How are you going up?"
​ “Train?" I suggested, it’s not like there's any alternative.
​ “Fancy a lift? I'm meeting Maria for coffee; we could make it Bonn as easy as anywhere?"
​ “Your call Mand."
​ “Do you mind if we don't?"

​ Now I know Mum's driving can be a bit, well, wild but to actually turn down a hassle-free journey in favour of two crowded trains...

​ “Your call, offer's there if you change your mind."
​
​ “What was that all about?" I hissed when Mum's attention returned to matters not involving us.
​ “Nothing."

​ Like I believe that.
​  
​ What with the hour difference, the traffic past Dussel' and then Koln, it was knocking on nine before we made the final approach to Bond Acres.
​ I let out a big sigh as we pulled onto the driveway.

​ “Glad to be home?" Dad suggested.
​ “Glad to stop travelling."
​ “Well I’ll second that."
​ “I'll go put the kettle on," I volunteered.

​ Well it's one way out of lumping cases.

​ “That won't get you out of doing your washing," Mum stated.
​ “But Mum," I whined.
​ “It'll only take a couple of minutes to put the washer on, you can sort it between you while the tea's mashing."

​ Okay, there's logic to getting it out of the way tonight, it will save doing it before we go out tomorrow. Well there are still a few bits that need hand washing, best hose and lingerie, but they won't take long.

​ “Yes Mum," I sighed before letting myself out of the car.
​  
​ “Don't you ever fold stuff?" Mand mentioned as I up ended my case to tip out the contents.
​ “When it's clean."
​ “It would go in your bag better folded."
​ “What's the point, it’s all gonna get screwed up in the machine anyhow."
​ “If you say so."
​ “I know so," I asserted, digging through the pile for the delicates.
​ “For such a clothes horse you can be a right slob Gaby Bond."
​ I shrugged, “Just being practical."
 
© Maddy Bell 26.06.2019

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

---

 

 
​ After a week at Gran's I was a bit disorientated back in my own room. For starters, the floor doesn't creak and my mattress doesn't sag, in just a week I’ve gotten used to the 'character' of Gran's cottage. That said, it was reassuring to be surrounded by my own stuff, my bear sat on the shelf over the bed, the poster on the back of the door and the feel of the rug under my bare feet.

​ I guess home is where you make it, regardless of location. On reflection, this really is home, its where my friends are, my immediate family, the things and most of the people I care about. Warsop, well England in general I suppose, is where I come from, land of my birth and the first dozen years of my life, but it's no longer my home. On that philosophical note I turned off the light and snuggled under the covers.
​  
​ “I take it you'll be back for dinner?" Mum enquired.
​ I finished checking the contents of my Handtasche, “Er should be, we'll call if we're gonna be late."
​ “I thought we'd have good ol' stew and dumplings, invite Max and his parents over?"

​ Sugar, Max.

​ “Er sure, we'll make sure to be back in good time."
​ “Found it," Mand announced returning to the kitchen brandishing her Handy.
​ “Well have a good day, don't be late."
​ “We won't, say hi to Maria for us."
​
​ “So, what was that about?" Mand asked as we hurried towards the bahnhof.
​ “What?"
​ “That business of not being late?"
​ “Oh that," I paused to check for traffic at the crossing, “Mum's doing stew and inviting the von Strechau's over."
​ “Maxxie!" she teased.
​ “Guess he'll be there," I agreed as nonchalantly as I could.

​ To tell the truth, things have been a bit hectic over Chrimbo so I’ve not exactly been pining for his presence. I can't deny it'll be good getting back with him, sometimes I think the getting re acquainted is the best bit of our relationship.

​ “Come on Dilly Daydream," Mand suddenly urged, “The Express is coming."
​  
​ We'd been sat on the train for a couple of minutes before my brain engaged, the buzz of conversation around us transforming from double Dutch to German. Oh, how fast the brain adapts, just a week ago it was English that I couldn't understand! Luckily the grey cells started working before the friendly visage of Myleen reached us.

​ “Hi girls.”
​ “Hi Myleen, good Weihnachts?” I enquired as she checked our rail cards.
​ “So, so, at least I wasn't working this year, don't forget to renew your card next week.”
​ “Really?” I looked at the card, sure enough it runs out on January seven, bum.
​ “So, you off to Koblenz?”
​ “Bonn,” Mand advised.
​ “Well have a good day, and don't forget that pass Gaby.”
​ “I won't,” I sighed.

​ Guess I'll have to break the bad news to Dad later, it’s a shed load of euros but I can't do without it.
​  
​ The Express rolled into Remagen a few minutes later alongside the north bound Rheintal Express that we need to be on. I checked my watch, whilst we can't hang about, we should have plenty of time to get to platform two. If there's one thing to like about Deutsche Bahn, the services are coordinated, up to a point, they'll hold the Rheintal to make sure Ahrtal passengers make the connection.

​ Knowing this, Mand and I let the panickers go ahead before waving to Myleen as we followed behind at a more sensible pace. It made no difference to getting a seat, its holiday season, you'd have to get on in Mainz to guarantee being sat for the journey north. We headed towards the front of the train, away from the crush near the platform steps, it paid off, the conductor waved us on board.

​ “There are seats upstairs girls.”
​ “Thanks.” I grinned leading the way to the upper deck.

​ Obviously, there wasn't a lot of choice of seats, even this carriage is pretty full, but we found a pair near the top of the stairs, not the best location but it’s only a thirty-minute journey.

​ “So why didn't you want to come up with Mum? I know her driving can be a bit erratic but she's not killed anyone.”
​ “Yet,” Mand chorused with me.
​ “Look don't take this the wrong way,” she went on, “I love your mum to bits but she does tend to take things over.”
​ “Yeah, she likes to be in charge, think it’s a teacher thing,” I agreed.
​ “This way we don't get conned into meeting for coffee, having to do a show and tell in the Dinea.”
​ “I hear you.”
​ “And I thought it'd be nice just the two of us.”
​ “Not complaining, I was just curious, I'm always angling for a parent Taxi.”
​ “You've got your Mofa now,” she pointed out, “I can't believe they bought you a pink one.”
​ “Yeah,” I allowed, “Not exactly my first choice.”

​ The train slowed and pulled into Bonn Hauptbahnhof pretty much on time, we gathered our stuff and joined the exodus into the former Federal capital.

​  
​ “So where to?” I enquired as we waited for the pedestrian lights in front of the bahnhof to change.
​ Mand gave a shrug, “Dunno.”
​ “You must have some idea,” the lights chose that moment to change so we were across the road before I completed the sentence, “Or you wouldn't have suggested coming.”
​ “Not really, thought we could just mooch round.”
​ “Whatever,” I allowed giving a shrug of my own.

​ Of course, neither of us are exactly strangers to the city, Mand has been coming up for school since she joined the Bond household and of course whilst not as big as Koln its closer and more cosmopolitan than Koblenz so it’s long been a shopping destination for Ahrtalers. To be fair, we don't generally stray far from the main shopping streets but there are some shops a bit further out that offer less mainstream stuff. We wandered up the street past the budget boutiques and cut-price homeware stores towards Dom Platz – of course my eyes lit up on seeing PuppenKönig up ahead.

​ “Suppose you want to go in?” Mand opined.
​ “Well it'd be a shame not to,” I replied with an attempt at eyelash fluttering.
​ “For a girl you have some weird hobbies.”
​ “S'not weird.”
​ “Much! I could sort of understand stuffed toys or even dolls, but toy cars.”
​ “They aren't toys,” I pointed out.
​ “If you say so, come on, let’s get this over with,” and with that she led the way into the famous toy shop.

​ They really aren't toys, they're scale models and girls can collect them, so there.
​  
​ There are three floors, on the ground level it’s all dolls and stuff for babies, first floor has Lego, Playmobil and all that sort of stuff. Up at the top it’s all the electric stuff, RC, trains, Scalextric and of course all the other more adult stuff, model kits and so on. There is a lift but its quicker to use the stairs, I headed straight up, Mand trailing along in my wake.

​ I'm sure some people have huge collections, mine is quite modest, I think maybe a hundred, I just get stuff I like the look of. Once we reached the top I headed to the models and Mand wandered off to look at, well no idea to be honest. I haven't added to my car park lately, nor looked at what's come out so I was enthused to find out what gems have been recently released.

​ Talk about kid in a sweet shop, I'll have one of them and one of them, must get that – well you get the idea. I've developed a technique so that I don't go too silly, peruse everything on offer noting the stuff I’d like then go back along the shelves to try to find them again. This usually means I end up with about half my 'wish list', and a bill that is within my budget.

​ Gott, so many I want!

​ “So, you getting anything?”
​ I nearly jumped out of my skin, “Geez Mand!”
​ “Well?” she hinted.
​ “Yeah, five minutes? I'll stand for coffee,” I offered.
​ “I'll see you downstairs,” she sighed.
​ “'kay,” I confirmed.

​ Well I guess I’d better make my selection, I fetched one of the mini baskets they have for this stuff and returned to the shelves of model cars. Okay, one of those, that one in red – or maybe silver? I worked my way back along the display plucking my selections as I went.​ 'Sugar,' I muttered under my breath when I’d done and looked in the basket. Instead of the usual three or four there had to be at least a dozen models there, bugger, guess I'll have to put some back. Or do I? I dug into my bag and found my purse, yes! There in its slot was my bank card.
​
​ “Eighty-nine fifty,” the cashier chap told me.
​ “Card?” I suggested.
​ “Moment bitte,” he went to retrieve the card machine from the other till point.

​ Eighty-nine fifty, I am so not telling the rents how much I’ve spent here. But I mean, how could I not get the new Volkswagen Eos or the Porsche Cayenne – and the Renault Clio is well cool. All up, there's fifteen models, the most I’ve ever bought at once, it’s still cheaper than a pair of posh shoes.
​  
​ “'bout time,” Mand noted when I found her down on the ground floor.
​ “Soz, so what've you got?” I enquired spotting her own PuppenKönig bag.
​ “Er thought I’d get something for Drea,” she allowed, “You spent up?”
​ “Sort of,” I allowed thinking of my smoking bank card in my rucky. “Coffee?”
 
​ We corralled a table in the bakery on the top side of Dom Platz, Mand taking charge of all the bags whilst I fulfilled my promise of paying for our beverages and Pflaumkuchen. Well it was in the cabinet screaming 'eat me', it would've been bad manners to leave it there right? I deposited our comestibles on the table and sank gratefully into the seat opposite de Vreen.

​ “Okay, so what's this really about?”
​ “I told you, I’ve got Christmas money to spend.”
​ “Come on Mand, I may be blonde but I'm not stupid.”
​ “Never said you were.”
​ “So?” I pressed, “What's going on?”

​ My sort of adopted sister sagged back into her seat, whatever it is, it’s something pretty major.

​ “What do you want first, the good or the crappy?”
​  
​ “What're you going to do?” I queried once I’d got the bones of both bits of news.
​ “I dunno Gab, Gran says I should stay here but she is my mum.”

​ Talk about a downer, Mand's mum has been diagnosed with early onset dementia, I thought only old people got that. Old Mrs. Tomkins who lived two doors down from us in Warsop had dementia, they had to put her in a home but she was like seventy or something, Mand's mum is only forty-three.

​ “You need to talk to Mum and Dad,” I told her.

​ She needs advice, I can't give it but I know what it was like when Mum had the cancer scare.

​ “I know but,” she shrugged, “I haven't got my head around it all yet.”
​ “They given a timetable?”
​ “Sort of, well not exact, Gab, what happens when she doesn't remember me?”

​ I scooted around to the other side of the table and pulled her into a hug.

​ “I don't want to lose her Gab, what am I going to do?”
 
© Maddy Bell 28.06.2019

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

---

 

 
​ The other news? Well her coming out as lesbian was of course overshadowed by news of her mother but it was pretty much a non-event. Apparently even her mother had suspected that she preferred belles to beaus for some time – it is nearly 2007 after all.
​
​ “What do you want to do now?” I asked once Mand had got her emotions under control.
​ “I've still got money to spend.”
​ “We don't have to; we could do it another day.”
​ She sat herself straighter, “I know we could, but I might not be here next week, next month, going home and moping won't change anything will it?”
​ “Guess not,” I had to agree, I think that's why my rents insisted Jules and I went to America when Mum was ill, there wasn't anything we could do and two more miserable bodies wouldn't have helped matters.
​ “Sorry about the coffee.”
​ I looked over to my now stone-cold cup and half eaten Pflaumkuchen, “You can buy the next one.”
​ She drew in a deep breath, “Come on then, Schuh Strasse.”

​ Ot oh, lock up your wallets, it’s almost impossible to leave Schuh Strasse without clutching a shoebox. We put our coats back on, gathered our bags and headed out into the city once more.
​  
​ I collapsed into the first pair of empty seats I came to, dragging my shopping in to allow Mand to join me. We'd been up in C&A when my phone went off with an SMS from Mum reminding me we needed to get home for this impromptu dinner party. Oh boy, a quick calculation gave us less than fifteen minutes to get to the Hbf for the Rheintal Express and our connection to Dernau or it'd be another hour and suffer the wrath of Mum.

​ Okay, it’s not a long way but encumbered by assorted bags and busy shopping streets it was a close-run thing. It’s a good job the southbound train goes from Gleis Eine, we ran onto the platform, through the closing door, the Zug was moving before we found our way to some seats.
 
​ “Pity about that bra,” Mand pronounced as she arranged her own purchases.
​ “We can look in Koln next week,” I proposed.
​ “Yeah, maybe.”

​ To be honest I didn't like it myself, too much lace, too little support but it wasn't for me was it?

​ “So, what did you get for Drea in PuppenKönig?”
​ She sorted through her bags before passing me her first purchase of the day, “Here, I'm gonna try to condense this lot.”

​ I took the bag from her then slid the contents out.

​ “Ooh, she'll love this.”
​ “What I thought, there's animals and farm stuff, it says it’s from eighteen months.”

​ I turned the box over to see what was inside, its Duplo, you know those chunky Lego bricks? Well it’s a Duplo farm set complete with tractor, farmer, a cow and a sheep, yup, very much on Drea's radar.

​ “You might want to take the price off before you give it her, Bern can be a bit funny if she thinks you've spent too much.”
​ “I can sort of understand that,” Mand mentioned.

​ I slid the box back into the bag and dug into my rucky for the bag of gummi bears I picked up earlier.

​ “Bears? We've got dinner when we get back.”
​ “And? You sound like Mum.”
​ “Whatever.”
​ I opened the bag and pulled several sugar hits out, “You want?”
​ “Thought you'd never ask.”
​  
​ The train was busy but on time, we had fully ten minutes to get across to the Ahr Express in Remagen so no running required. Its December so despite only being a bit after four the light was already fading quite fast, by the time we cleared the lights of Remagen it was almost black outside, the only thing to be seen in the window glass the reflection of the train’s interior. We sat in silent contemplation up through Bad Neuenahr and Ahrweiler, next stop Dernau.

​ It was distinctly chilly when we got off the train, I thrust my hands firmly into pockets, Mand had to put up with cold hands due to the copious results of her shopping spree. It’s not five yet but Dernau is like a ghost town, nothing new there I guess, it’s like everyone works to the light not the clock. In summer there'll be bods about until at least ten but I guess no one likes being out in the dark.

​ The walk back to Schloss Bond didn't take long, ot oh, looks like Mum's dinner party has escalated. Sure enough, there in the drive behind Gloria's Cayenne was the Pinger’s big Passat estate, joy. I don't mean that in a bad way but if the Pinger’s are here my chances of getting one on one with Max are pretty small.
​  
​ “About time,” Mum told us as we slunk into the kitchen.
​ “We couldn't make the train go any faster,” I pointed out.
​ “Anything we can do?” Mand offered as she hung her coat up.
​ “I think we're sorted, you might want to change, the Pinger’s are here too.”
​ “We saw,” I told her adding my own jacket to the cloak room hooks.
​ “Go,” she encouraged, “You've got five minutes.”
​  
​ Clearly five minutes was being a bit optimistic, we both ignored the voices coming from the lounge and hot footed up to our respective rooms. Obviously, a shower was out of the question, I did an express strip and had a quick strip wash instead. What to wear? I thrust my hand into the rack and pulled out the first thing that came to hand.

​ So okay, maybe it’s a bit, er, short but I'm wearing hose and if I wear my black strappy sandals, I won't be quite so exposed. To be sure I’ve not worn it for quite a while and whilst hardly haute couture, I like it. Indeed, I can remember getting it, I was in Meadowhell with Mad and Aunt Carol, there was a sort of alternative clothing place in the Lanes.

​ I found a black velvet look headband, no time to do anything fussy, fluffed my mop up a bit and headed downstairs. Of course, by the time I got down to the ground floor the stretchy material had made its way somewhat higher up my torso than it started! Damn, I forgot it that this dress does that, I slipped my feet into the sandals, tugged everything back into place and made my grand entrance.

​ Last as usual, everyone else had wine glasses in hand.

​ “Interesting look,” Mand whispered in my ear.
​ “It was the first thing I pulled out.”
​ “You might want to lose the bra,” she suggested.

​ Sugar! I was in such a hurry I forgot how clingy this frock is, a quick glance only confirmed Mands assertion, you could see my underwear as clear as if I was wearing it over the top. I turned on my heel and headed with some speed back outside, Mum's 'where's she off to now?' floating out of the door behind me.
 
© Maddy Bell 29.06.2019

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

---

Soße

 
​ So okay, not the best choice of frock! I scuttled back upstairs to my room, wrenched the dress over my head and opened my lingerie draw. Shitza, yes there were BH's there but none that wouldn't show.​ Of course, they'll still be drying, I took all the plain ones to Gran's. Grrr! Okay, plan B.
​
​ “What was that about?" Mum enquired when I returned to the living room.
​ “Erm, slight underwear malfunction?"
​ “Gaby," she sighed, “One day."
​ “We ready to eat now we're all here?” Dad queried with a Paddington stare at me.
​ “Sorree," I offered to our slightly bemused guests.
​
​ With a mere ten of us tonight Dad had only put one extra leaf in the table which meant it was cosy but not cramped by the time everyone was seated. Of course, Max managed to sit on one side of me, Kat the other.

​There are of course stews and similar in German cuisine - who doesn't like Gulasch? But an English stew is something else. Winter veggies, potatoes, carrots, leeks along with pieces of stewing steak in a rich beef stock topped with suet dumplings - what's not to like? Okay, so Manda had her own veggie variety sans the meat product with German style potato dumplings but still it's a great winter warmer. Dash of Hendo's relish and it's perfect.

​Von Strechau senior was particularly interested in the dumplings - he does an English night in his restaurant every now and then, I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before. Soon everyone was happily tucking in to the one pot delight with relish (ha, ha).

​ I was still savouring the last of my stew when I felt something on my leg, something stroking my leg through the smooth knit hose. Hmm Max. I glanced sideways, he was having a discourse with Henryck Pinger, just the merest movement of his right arm giving him away.

​ “Someone's having fun," Kat suggested under her breath.
​ “Eh?"

​ She poked her head forward to see past me to Max.

​ “Yep, thought so," she smirked.
​ “Thought what?" I asked out of the corner of my mouth.
​ “Lover boy," she stated and I felt another hand on the other leg.
​ “Kat!" I hissed.
​ “Everything okay over there?" Mum enquired.
​ “Yes Jen, Gaby was just telling me about the hose she bought earlier."

​ There was a sudden movement as Max quickly removed his hand from my thigh.

​ “Not more hose Gaby, I swear Wolford'll go bust if you ever stop wearing it," Mum opined.
​ “They're not really hose, they're like aerobics tights, thought they'd be better than bike stuff for the artistic stuff."

​ Well I thought it was a good cover.

​ “How are you doing with that," Maria asked, “Your dad said the Federation wanted you to try it."
​ “Erm, I’ve not really had a chance to do much yet, what with Weihnachts and all that," I admitted.
​ “Sounds intriguing," Max's mum suggested.
​ “It's sort of gymnastics but done on a bike," Dad explained.
​ “Now that I’d pay to see," Wilhelm chuckled.
​ “You managed a couple of moves at the training day eh kiddo?" Dad mentioned.
​ “Just about," I agreed, already feeling my face flushing a bit.
​ “Everyone ready for dessert?" Mum asked.
​  
​ “So how did you know?" I asked Kat a couple of minutes later. I pulled pud patrol and Kat volunteered to give me a hand - after a kick in the shin.
​ “Know what?"

​ I gave her a look.

​ “Okay, your er," she motioned towards a certain spot on her chest, “You could see them get hard through your dress."

​ Sugar, if Kat saw I bet everyone else did too - so much for plan B.

​ “You're not wearing a BH are you?"
​ “Well all my plain ones are still in the drying room after England."
​ “I'll be right back."
​ “I thought you were helping?"
​ “I am, trust me."

​ About as far as I could throw her.
​
​ The custard, Soße Anglaise if you prefer, was almost ready when Kat returned, some help she's been.

​ “Where've you been?"
​ “Finding these," she waved something at me.
​ “And what exactly are they?"
​ “Every girls salvation in a clingy dress."
​ “Huh?"
​ “Pull your dress up."
​ “You what?"
​ “Pull your dress up, I need to stick these on."
​ “I should coco!"
​ “Well you do it then, its not like I’ve not seen your girls before."
​ “That was different," I shot back.
​ “If you say so," she sighed.

​ Well it was, has been, I mean, exposing a boob on the massage table is one thing but stripping in the kitchen, well I don't want to go there!

​ “You manage to stir this?" I asked.
​ “Er possibly, cooking's not my strong point."

​ No kidding.

​ “Just keep stirring it so it doesn't stick, if it starts boiling take it off the stove but keep bothering it."
​ “Yes captain."
​ “I'll be right back."
 
​ I plucked what turned out to be two of those square Elastoplast’s from her fingers and headed to the downstairs bathroom.

​Of course, I should've thought of it myself, we did the same thing for that body painting caper after the World's. It took a cold flannel and a couple of minutes to hide the offending bits and I must admit that it felt more comfortable straight away. I finished readjusting my dress on the way back to the kitchen.

​ “Everything okay?"
​ “I think so, it started to bubble so I did what you said."

​I took over the wooden spoon and checked the consistency - damn, too thick and maybe a bit lumpy even. Oh well, she tried. I poured it from pot to the warmed jug, scrapping he last bit straight into my maw.

​“Hmm, not bad," I allowed, “If you can take this and the dishes through, I’ll bring the crumble."
​  
​ We'd only been fifteen minutes tops making the custard and sorting out my, er little problem, but it was long enough that the vino had been flowing and the already merry mood was decidedly more convivial. I know I’m not great where alcohol is concerned but even so.

​ The crumble Mum had put together was one of my favourites, peach and rhubarb. Whilst the rhubarb was fresh the peaches were of the tinned variety which meant that the syrup, they come in had soaked through the crumble topping in places and caramelised. Now that's what I call proper crumble, none of this perfect topping and frankly, often dry texture, just pure unadulterated edible joy.
​
​ “Finally!" I shoved Max into the cloakroom.
​ “What're you doing?"

​ I looped my arms behind his neck and encouraged him against the wall.

​ “I've been waiting to do this for two weeks," I told him as I pulled his face towards me.
​ “Oh that, why didn't you mmph!"
​
​ After the initial rather enthusiastic round of tonsil hockey things subsided to a more leisurely pace. To be truthful, it just felt good to be held and whilst Max's hands did wander to my derriere, it was sort of reassuring.

​ “I missed you."
​ “Me too," he agreed.
​ “Thought you'd be with the harem."
​ “Well, you know what it's like, they all had commitments and Dad said it might not be polite to do stuff behind your back."
​ “You!" I gave him a smack on the rump.
​ “Well you did ask," he chuckled.
​ “You guys want coffee?" Manda asked through the door.

​ That set me into a round of giggling.

​ “Er yes please," Max replied trying but failing to shush me, “We'll be out in a minute."
​ “Fine," Mand replied with an amused tone to her voice.
​ “I suppose we should go out," my BF suggested once she'd moved away.
​ “Not yet," I complained.
​ “Yes yet," Max told me before moving in for one, or maybe two, last smooches.
​
​ “Lipstick," Mand stated when we found our way into the kitchen a few minutes later.
​ “Oh right," I giggled.
​ “You too Max," she added.

​ By the time Max was cleaned up and I'd reapplied some colour to my lips, Mand had the coffee ready. The three of us trooped through to the lounge, Max with the coffee jugs, Mand with crockery and I brought up the rear with the cream, sugar and, as we have company, a plate of after dinner mints.
​  
​ “Pretty good night," Dad allowed coming back indoors after seeing the von Strechau's off.
​ “Nightcap luv?" Mum enquired.
​ “Aye, why not, we're not off till after lunch tomorrow."
​ “Erm," I started.
​ “Yes, you're included," Mum suggested.

​ Well it wasn't what I was gonna say but I’ll not look a gift horse.

​ “Where's Manda?" Dad asked as we settled back into the lounge.
​ “Gone to bed."
​ “More for the rest of us," he observed as he rummaged through the bottles of liquor.
​ “Here you go," Mum returned bearing a tray of freshly washed shot glasses, “Where's Amanda?"
​ “Bed," Dad and I chorused.

​ Dad selected a bottle and poured three measures of his favourite Schnapps, each of us then taking one from the tray.

​ 'salute!"

​ I learnt after my first taste of the stuff that there's a reason you don't sip this stuff, the three of us slammed them back, Dad then refilling the glasses before resealing the bottle.

​ “Has Manda said anything to you Gabs?" Mum asked.
​ “Said?"
​ “You know kiddo, about England," Dad added.
​ “Not a lot."
​ “I know she says she and her mum have sort of made up but there's something still not right." Mum opined.
​ “You'd tell us if she said there was something wrong eh kiddo?" Dad pressed.
​ “I'm not your spy."
​ “We weren't suggesting you were luv, we're just concerned that she's maybe bottling stuff up that we could maybe help with," Mum soothed.
​ “I'm sure she'll say if there is."
​ “Okay, we'll not mention it again," Dad told me.
​ “Well I’m going up," I announced, “See you in the morning."
​ “Nite kiddo"
​ “G'nite munchkin."
​  
​ It was well after midnight but I still couldn't sleep. First it was the stuff with Manda's mum - I mean that's really shitty. And then, and then my parents want me to spy on her - well not spy exactly but next best thing. The annoying thing is, they're sort of right, she does need help but it's not my place to tell them what I know.

​ Why is life so complicated? Complicated and unfair and Mand seems to be getting more than her fair share of the shitty end of the stick at the moment. I turned my thoughts to happier themes; I was no sooner fantasising about doing stuff with Max than I was gone.
 
© Maddy Bell 30.06.2019

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

---

Soße

 
​ Beep, beep - beep, beep.

​ My hand flailed out from under the duvet and slapped the alarm off - too early! I turned onto my back and lay staring at the gloom through the skylight. The smell of coffee was the thing that eventually got my head into gear and body out of bed.

​ It's gonna be a good day, right? We see Jules and Boris this afternoon, stop overnight in the Neckartal then tomorrow it's on to the Taxis' pile at Harburg. This morning it's mostly about packing but I reckon I can squeeze in a quick visit to see Connie. With a bit more enthusiasm I got out of my jammies and hit the shower.
​
​ “Your look chipper this morning," Mum observed.
​ I shrugged, “Looking forward to the trip, there coffee in there?"
​ “You might squeeze one, I’ve just put another pot on."
​ "'Kay."
​ “Sort out the stuff you're taking, it can go straight into the Hymer, save finding somewhere for a load of cases."
​ “Yes. Mum," I allowed.
​ “What are you taking to wear for New Year’s Eve? Not that thing you had on last night I hope."

​ Twenty questions!

​ “It's a favourite."
​ “Hmmm!"
​ “Maybe my best dirndl? Didn't the Taxis wear Kostum last year?"
​ “I guess that'd do, and don't forget you'll need something warm to wear in bed, I know the camper has a gas fire but we don't want to have it on all night."
​ “Yes Mum."

​ Well if I don't need to actually pack, that makes things a lot easier. I poured a cup of the fresh coffee and sat myself down for the eating bit of breakfast. It's a cold, meat and cheese affair today - you wouldn't want it every day but it's filling and apparently has less processed sugar and fat so it's good for you right?

​ “So," I started again, “Can I go around to the bakery for a bit, once I’ve packed of course."
​ “That would be quite useful actually kiddo, you can pick up some Brotchen and see if Therese has a gateau we can take down, I’m sure your sister won't have much in the flat."
​ “Sure."
​  
​ I was almost done with my 'packing' when my Handy stated trilling.

​ “Bond."
​ “Well duh, I did ring your number sis."

​ I love you too Jules.

​ “Heya, what's up?"
​ “You still at home?"
​ “Just packing, we'll be setting off after lunch."
​ “Great, look do you think you could bring some stuff down for me?"
​ “I guess. You know Mum's gonna be on your case when we get there?"
​ “Yeah, don't I know it," she sighed down the line.
​ “If you want to score some brownie points make sure there's some food in the cupboard, you know eggs, milk and stuff, at least it'll look like you're serious about stuff."
​ “I hear what you're saying Gab, I’ll send Boris out shopping while I tidy the place up a bit."
​ “So, what do you want bringing?"
​  
​ Gathering Juliette's stuff delayed my departure to Thesing's a bit - why she wanted some of it I’ve no idea but hey, her choice. Anyhow, I grabbed a string shopping bag, pulled my ankle boots on, zipped my ski jacket up and set off for Connie's place.
​
​ “Hello stranger," Tomas, Con's dad greeted me as I slipped into his establishment.
​ “Hi Mr. T."
​ “She's upstairs, you know the way."
​ “Before I do Mum's sent me with a list."
​ “Let's have a look, I’ll sort it out, you can pick it up when you leave, I take it it's a short visit?"
​ “Yeah," I agreed passing him Mum's shopping list, “We're off to see my sister later then we're spending Neu Jahre at some friends in Bavaria."
​ “Very nice," he scanned the sheet of paper, “I think we can manage all this, Kirsch Torte okay?"
​ “Fine, as long as there's plenty of cream!"
​  
​ “Gabeee!" Con squealed pulling me into a bear hug.
​ “Ungh!"
​ She released me enough to reply, “Hi Con."
​ “How was England?"
​ I shrugged, “Same old."
​ “I bet; you say the same every time you go away."
​ “Well it's not like I have some great adventure or anything, what about here? Anything exciting happen?"
​ She wrinkled her nose, “Not really, coffee? cake?"
​ “Think I’ve got time."
​ “I thought you were back now?" she queried as she sorted out the coffee.
​ “Dad decided we could go to Sophia's for New Year."
​ “Thought he was against it?"
​ “Well we're going, we'll stop to see Jules on the way down."
​ “How is she?"
​ The baby news isn't public yet, best not get into that now, “Okay I think."
​ “It must be hard being so far from home,” she mused.
​ “She's got Boris with her," I pointed out.
​ “Even so, you okay with strawberry tart?"
​ “Sure."
​ “Go on through, I’ll be right behind."

​ The Thesing's apartment has hardly changed since my first time here not long after we moved here. Same colour on the walls, same furniture, same carpets, I’ve been such a regular visitor I have my own coffee mug and a designated spot at the table and on the sofa. Where the Peters place felt slightly odd the other day, this place is like an extension of home.

​ I lost my jacket and boots on the way through, by the time my host joined me in the lounge I was well settled in 'my' corner of the sofa.

​ “So, come on then, spill.”
​  
​ “Bum, is that the time?”
​ “Unless it’s stopped again,” Con offered by way of confirmation.

​ Where does the time go? It only feels like about ten minutes since I got here but it’s close on two hours!

​ “I need to get back or Dad'll be sending out search parties.”
​ “When are you back? You are coming to Koln next week?”
​ “Think Dad's hoping to set off New Year's Day – guess it depends how much gets drunk.”
​ “You'll be back for Koln then.”
​ “Oh yeah!” I enthused.
​  
​ I was nearly out of the door when Therese called me back.

​ “You forgotten something Gaby?"

​ I did the mental inventory, coat, scarf, Handy, Handtasche, seems like everything.

​ “Don't think so."
​ “Torte?"

​ Oh sh....

​ “Oops," I allowed returning to the counter.
​ “I don't know how your Mutter manages," Mrs. T stated even as she lifted my shopping bag up onto the counter.
​ “Practice?" I suggested with a grin.
​ “Get on with you, have a good New Year, see you next week eh?"
​ “Yep, Frohes Neu Jahre."
​  
​ “You're late," Mum suggested when I plonked the baked goods on the table.
​ “It's only five past."
​ “Hmm."
​ “What's for lunch?"
​ “Sandwiches, the others are in the lounge. You got everything ready to go?"
​ “Yup, everything on board except me."
​ “I hope so, come on, you can bring the tea pot through."
​ “Yes Mum," I agreed with a hint of resignation.
​  
​ Of course, Mum's idea of sandwiches for lunch was more summer picnic than the stuffed bread rolls you get at Thesing's. And of course, our fare was in traditional two slices of bread format! By the fact I was carrying the tea and the others hadn't even taken a bite, I wasn't actually that tardy.

​ What was in the sandwiches I hear you ask, well nothing too exotic, cheese and onion, tinned Spam and Tuna mayo - well we've been away so the usual leftovers are absent from the fridge. On the other hand, there were sausage rolls, defrosted from the freezer and a full array of pickles and spreads. Well I suppose it's only got to get us to Heidelberg which isn't that far.

 
© Maddy Bell 02.07.2019

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

---

Soße

 
Everyone's heard of Heidelberg but how many have actually been there? Not me but Mum and Dad came down when I was in Kanada and so at least had some idea of where we were going. Of course, the complication was the Hymer, roads you can take a car through, a vehicle the size of a small bus won't or you can't use, I’m sure we went through the same junction three times before Dad put the handbrake on.

​ For some reason I’d got this thing in my head that Jules and Boris' flat was in some ancient apartment block, all dark corridors and steep staircases. The reality was quite different, they weren't even in the old town but on a newish campus area a bit further out.

​ “Where's the flat?" I asked, stepping down into the almost empty car park.
​ “Not far kiddo," Dad advised whilst Mum called my sister to say we'd arrived.
​ “Boris'll meet us at the gate," Mum announced a moment later.
​ “Come on then girls," Dad encouraged, “Bags and bodies."

​ I rolled my eyes, his humour can really be, we'll, not very funny.
​  
​ Our little party set off carrying a variety of supplies, gifts and me trailing a suitcase with the stuff Jules asked for earlier. Whilst I’m looking forward to seeing my sister, I’m not so much looking forward to what I’m expecting will be some terse parent / child conversation. Maybe my sister’s decision to break the news at 'arm’s length' wasn't quite as flippant as it appeared.

​ We followed a path through a bit of a garden and found Boris coming towards us.

​ “Hi guys!"
​ “Boris," Dad allowed shaking the offered hand.
​ “Come on in, Jules has the coffee on."

​ I'm not sure if Boris was just ignoring the vibes from my parent or ignorant of them. Whichever, he took the case from me before leading the way to a gate which he opened using one of those key pad things. The housing block was now in view, a low, well maybe five storey, affair which looked more like an office block than student accommodation.

​ I hadn't really noticed how cold it was until we got inside, it felt like a sauna!

​ “It's warm in here," Mand observed.
​ “I'm surprised they have it on when the campus is on shutdown," Mum added.
​ 'Geo-thermals, free heat," Boris advised as we waited for a lift.
​ “What's that?" I asked.
​ “Not my thing Gab, your sister knows more about it than me."
​ “They pump water down into the ground where it heats up which can then be used for power and heating," Mum explained - well I suppose it is her 'specialist' area, geo stuff.
​
​ Ding! The lift doors opened and revealed a wide carpeted corridor much like a chain hotel, the only difference being the post box beside each door. Boris set off, the rest of us trailing behind, stopping at the second door which he pushed open.

​ “Welcome to the Bat cave," he grinned, motioning for us to precede him inside.
​  
​ Our arrival had been noted by my sister who greeted us in the small hallway area.

​ “Hi everyone, come on through, coffee's nearly ready."
​ “Er, can I use the loo?" I asked as everyone shuffled forward.
​ “On the left," Jules told me.
​ “Cheers."

​ The impression of a hotel increased beyond the door, yes there were toiletries on the side but apart from the mismatched towels and bath mat you'd think you were in an Ibis! Everything all moulded in, the shower just separated by the curtain from the rest of the room. Yup, designed for quick and easy cleaning.

​ The rest of the flat just added to that impression, one small bedroom, kitchen - diner slotted along one side of the main room, the whole lot would probably fit in our lounge at home. I'm sure Mum picked up on the hurriedly 'tidied' piles of books and other assorted stuff stacked around the desk, clearly my advanced warning had paid dividends. I'm guessing a trip to the recycling would reveal some recently added takeaway packaging and beer bottles if my visit to the place in Bonn is anything to go by!

​ Being away, we didn't do Christmas decorations at home, Jules and Boris did at least have one of those wooden trees on the end of the breakfast bar and a few cards were Blu-tacked on the wall.
​  
​
​ With seating at a premium, I found myself sat at the breakfast bar as my sister sorted out the coffee.

​ “I've brought cake," Mum announced.

​ Huh, the cheek, I fetched that!

​ “Do you want that now or after dinner?" Jules winked at me.
​ “Dinner?" Mum queried.
​ “You are eating with us?" Boris put in.
​ “That would be great," Dad suggested, cutting off Mater.
​ “Nothing fancy," Jules told us, “Thought we'd have Boris' favourite, Toad in the Hole."

​ Ha, she's out-foxed you this time Mum.

​ “I guess the cake will wait," she allowed.
​  
​ Of course, my sister is no dummy - and a pretty good cook too when she wants to be. The choice of Toad was inspired, everything could be pre-prepared but if things went south, well minimal inconvenience. I'm sure Mum cottoned on quite quickly but she could hardly mark my sister down on what looks like a prudent choice.

​ The conversation, while we drank coffee and waited for dinner, danced around the Elephant in the room, neither party keen to be the first to bring the subject up. Indeed, we got through dinner before the subject was broached. (it was a good Toad even if Bratwurst isn't as good as a decent Lincolnshire pork sausage.)

​ “So where are you guys spending the night?” Jules enquired once the serious business of eating was out of the way.
​ “There's a camper stop just this side of Stuttgart, should only take a couple of hours from here,” Dad advised.
​ “Will it be open this time of year?” Boris enquired.
​ “In theory,” Dad replied, “Plan B is one of the Rastplatz on the autobahn.”

​ Sounds fun.

​ “Sooner you guys than me,” Boris opined.
​ “You could stay on the campus parking,” my sister suggested.
​ “Is that allowed?” Mum asked.
​ “Boris?” Jules queried.
​ He shrugged, “Pretty sure it'd be okay for one night, it’s not like there's classes.”
​ “We could have breakfast together before you go on,” my sister suggested.
​ “Dave?” Mum asked.
​ “The girls could use our shower,” Jules loaded the option.
​ “Dad?” I hinted.
​ “Well it would be better than driving in the dark,” Dad admitted, “You sure it'll be okay Boris?”
​ “Pretty sure Herr Bond, there're often camper vans parked where you are stopped.”
​ “You have seen the size of the Hymer?” Dad asked.
​ “Of course,” Boris replied, “You can use my parking disc.”
​ “What about your car?” Mum asked.
​ “Security know it, they won't check for the disc.”
​ “Okay, I'm convinced,” Dad allowed.
​ “Yes!”
​ “Great,” my sister added, “Boris?”
​ “Oh right, er, you want to come for a drink Herr Bond – and the girls, the student bar is open?”

​ Sneaky sis, sneaky.
 
​ Dad was surprisingly receptive to the idea now that our overnight arrangements were sorted, I think he no more wanted to be present for the Mum – Jules conversation than my sister! Personally, I'm a bit torn, enquiring minds and all that on one hand but a desire to check out this student bar place too – well I guess I'll get the low down on the 'discussion' from Jules later, we are sisters and we do share.

 
© Maddy Bell 04.07.2019

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

---

Soße

 
​ "I'll call when it’s safe,” my sister whispered to us as we collected coats from the bedroom.
​ "Good luck,” I offered.
​ "Remember she's only got your best interests at heart,” Dad mentioned.
​ "I know Dad,” she told him adding a hug.

​ The problem with Mum and my sister is that they are, at the heart of things, very much alike. In the past that has led to flaming rows, I mean fiery with a capital F! Spectators could be sucked into the conflagration and get burnt themselves. Pretty sure that's why Dad is so enthusiastic about leaving the premises.
​  
​ I'm not sure what I was expecting but the student bar was not it. This evening it was pretty quiet of course – most students would've gone home of course and the MacDonald’s®-esque interior hardly fills it with great ambience. We'd walked across the campus to get here, it's part of a small complex that includes the health centre, a book shop and the actual Student Union offices.

​ "Interesting place,” Dad opined as Boris signed us in.
​ Boris gave a shrug, "Everyone comes for the cheap bier.”
​ "I guess so,” Dad allowed.
​ "So, what's everyone drinking?” Boris asked as we drifted toward a corner 'booth'.
​ "Weissbier?” Dad suggested.
​ "What about you two?”
​ "Cola?” Mand requested.
​ "They have wine?”
​ "Name your poison, if it has alcohol you can get it here,” Boris grinned.
​ "Dry white?”

​ I got a look from Dad of course, I don't always have a great reaction to alcohol as you might recall but all that practice at Bad Durkheim in the summer paid off, I can cope with more than one glass.

​ "Here,” Dad thrust a note towards our host.
​ "No, no, this is on me,” Boris told him.
​ "I was a student once Boris, I know what it’s like,” Dad insisted.
​ "How about I get this one you buy the next?” Bo suggested.
​ "Okay,” Pater allowed.

​ Ooo, more than one drinky poo!​ Boris finished hanging his jacket and set off for the bar.
 
​ "And before you get any ideas young lady, you're on soft drinks after the first.”
​ "Dad!” I moaned.

​ Mand chuckled to herself.

​ "I'm seventeen Dad.”
​ "Not yet you aren't and while you live under my roof you go by my rules.”
​ "No fair,” I pouted.
​
​ It didn't take my 'brother in law' long to fetch the drinks, I was somewhat mollified when my wine turned up in a sort of carafe – I'll get maybe three glasses out of it. I mentally stuck my tongue out at Dad, pretty sure he didn't notice as he was doing the glass banging thing with Boris.
​  
​ The conversation was a bit awkward, there's only so much discussion of people’s 'school' work you can cope with when it’s not your subject or group of students.

​ "Jules says you're doing another concert,” Boris suggested to me.
​ "Well I wouldn't call it a concert exactly,” I countered.
​ "What would you call it then?” Dad queried.

​ Hmm, what indeed?

​ "Well it’s not like a proper thing like the Rheinhalle is it?”
​ "That was spot on,” Boris put in.
​ "Bit of a blast,” I agreed.
​ "So, what is this 'not' concert then?”
​ "Someone has organised a charity concert season at the kiosk,” Mand advised.
​ "It’s not just me,” I pointed out.
​ "Your idea,” she observed.
​ "Well yeah.”
​ "So, who else have you got lined up?” Boris asked.
​ "There's a choir one week, BlauHase of course, not sure who else, Kris is looking after that stuff.”
​ "You're the ideas woman eh?” he chuckled.
​ "She's full of 'em,” Mand smirked.

​ We were into our third round of drinks, well I was still technically on the first, before Boris' Handy sang out a nasty digitised tune.

​ "Heya...okay...half an hour?...yeah okay...everything alright?...fine, see you soon Liebchen.” he ended the call before addressing the rest of us, "Looks like it’s safe to go back.”
​ "Finish these first eh?” Dad suggested tipping his glass meaningfully.
​ "Definitely,” Boris confirmed.
​  
​ It wasn't late when we arrived back at Chez Boris et Juliette, just turned nine in fact. I'd half expected blue lights and a Police cordon but both Mum and my sister seemed hale and hearty and even, dare I say it, happy. Very strange.

​ "Everything okay?” Dad asked.
​ "Let’s just say we've reached an understanding,” Mum advised.

​ Boris and my sister exchanged a sort of hug.

​ "Coffee?” Jules suggested.
​ "Think Dad needs some,” I suggested soto voce.
​ "How many?” Mum sighed.
​ "Only a couple,” Dad told her whilst giving me a hard look, "Your daughter had half a bottle of wine.”
​ "It wasn't very strong.”
​ "So, you guys want the bathroom tonight?” Jules interrupted the alcohol inquisition whilst getting the coffee organised.
​ "Wouldn't mind,” Mand replied.
​ "Gab?” my sister prompted.
​ "Er yeah, good idea.”
​ "Mum, Dad?”
​ "Prefer in the morning luv,” Dad told her.
​ "Sure, you guys need towels and stuff?”
​ "In the camper kiddo,” Mum told her, "Thanks for asking.”
​  
​ And so, after coffee, washing gear was fetched, showers taken and Boris walked a pair of cleaner teens across to the camper. Clearly the olds had engineered Mand and my absence to talk, although they had at least put the beds down – they of course had commandeered the 'master' suite leaving us to the fold outs up front. Yeah, for all its size the Hymer is really only a four bed although you can squeeze more bodies in if need be.

 
© Maddy Bell 05.07.2019

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

---

Soße

 
Its been a while since we last properly overnighted in a camper – parked outside of the house doesn't count, so it was a bit weird getting changed then bedding down in what is usually the living space. Odder still when the olds got back a while later, Mum clearly having 'socialised' a little heavily since me and Mand left the flat. By the time the adults settled down it was turned midnight – so much for an early night.
 

Despite the late bedding down, the rents were up and making noise not much after seven the following morning. I'm pretty sure that Mand, like me, was feigning sleep as they sorted themselves out to go shower at Jules flat. Yeah I know we've got a shower in the camper but given the choice would you prefer to use a proper bathroom or an upright coffin?

"Come over when you're ready you two and lock the van,” Dad instructed before closing the door.

I bet it was Manda giggling when Mum was complaining about her knickers being back to front that gave us away.
 
I let out a long sigh, "I thought they were never going.”
"So how long do we give them?” Mand queried as she emerged from under her duvet.
"Walk over, make small talk, two showers – forty five?” I suggested.
"I don't know how people can use one of these for a holiday, you can hear everything.”
"You think this is bad, when I was little we had a VW Camper, an old thing with a lift up roof, now that was really living close!”
"I do like some privacy,” Mand opined.
"Never thought about it, I guess as little kids you don't,” I admitted, "We had some great trips though.”
"I'll take your word for that.”
"I suppose we ought to get up.”
"I thought we'd got like half an hour or something?”
"Until we go over, Dad won't be pleased if our beds are still out when we come back.”
"I guess,” Mand allowed.

Decision made I crawled out of my own duvet nest and headed for the onboard facilities.

Mum was still hair drying when we got to the flat forty minutes later, Dad was nursing a cup of coffee and my sister appeared to be cooking something.

"Morning guys, coffee in the pot if Dad has left any, scrambled egg on toast okay?”
"Er sure.”
"Fine thanks,” Mand added.

Since when does my sister volunteer to make breakfast? Not that I'm complaining.
 

"You sure you won't come?” Mum asked for the umpteenth time, I'm sure Marianne would be pleased to see you both.”
"I'm sure Mum, you go and have fun playing in the castle.”
"It won't be much fun just the two of you here for New Year.”
"There's a big party in the Stadtmitte, we won't be alone,” Boris advised.
"Well remember not to drink too much daughter.”
"I won't,” Jules agreed, "Now go, Dad's getting jittery.”

Mum gave my wayward sister a hug and climbed into the camper where Mand had already taken refuge.

"Take care Hun,” Dad gave her a hug and Bo a slap on the shoulder, "Take care of her Boris.”
"I will sir,” Bo replied.
"I'll see you in a couple of weeks then Sis?”
"Yeah, we'll be there and,” she dropped her voice to a whisper, "Try to keep out of trouble, the Rents are stressed enough with me.”
"I'll try,” I told her then added, "So can I tell Soph and the girls?”
"I guess so, it won't stay secret for long anyhow, come here.” she pulled me into a hug, "I miss you Sis.”
"Me too.”
"Take care Gab,” Boris mentioned with his own awkward half hug.
 

Of course, from Heidelberg we could have got onto the autobahn network for most of the remaining distance to Harburg but Dad had his head set on following the Neckar down to Stuttgart before picking up the road across to our destination. If you know your German geography you'll know that the Neckar rises not far from the Donau, on the eastern flank of the Schwarzwald, flowing north through Stuttgart before twiddling about down to Heidelburg and shortly after joining the Rhein. Yep, twiddling about, its a biggish river but unlike say the Mosel, the riverside roads aren't wide main roads but instead are fairly quiet.

Which is just as well, a few times we had to make some interesting turns, the Hymer is not best suited to these roads. Eventually the river turned south, the gorge we'd been following, opened out somewhat and as we got closer to Stuttgart, the roads improved and we picked up more traffic. We gave up the river chase at Neckarsulm, only after missing a turn and ending up at the gates of the Audi factory.

Having spent nearly two hours getting this far we picked up the Six eastbound, stopping eventually at the Kochertalbrücke service area just past the Schwäbisch Hall turn off.

"Toilet, toilet!” I announced as Dad pulled up.
"We'll catch up,” Mum suggested.

Well I don't mind telling you, it was a fast pigeon walk across to the facilities, the stairs down to the lavs were almost too much, I paid the fee and hurried inside.

"Thats better,” I told anyone listening a few minutes later as we convened in the concourse.
"You could've used the one in the camper,” Dad pointed out.
"I erm.”
"Coffee?” Mum suggested.
"That is what we stopped for,” Dad supplied.
 
"What are they looking at?” I asked Mand pointing with her chin at the group of lads we'd just passed, we were claiming a table, the Olds having both gone to fetch our beverages.
"Probably your bum.”
"Why? I've not got something stuck on it have I?”
"Don't think so,” she grinned back.
"So,” the pfennig finally dropped, "Perverts!”
"Well you are looking pretty cute today.”

The C word!

"Not you too.”
"And those ski pants don't leave much to the imagination,” she steamrollered on.
"What!” I panicked.

I put the ski pants on to keep warm – not that they've been doing that great a job, not to show off my, er behind. I felt the colour rising in my cheeks, the face not the other and tried to hide under my bobble hat. My 'friend' just chuckled in my face, bitch.
 
"You all right Gab,” Mum queried, "I got you both Streusal, the Pflaumkuchen looked a bit dry.”
"So why're you acting like a three year old?” Dad enquired putting down the tray of commestibles.
"She's got some admirers,” Mand put in.
"There's a lot of girls would kill for your figure,” Mum opined.
"Me for one,” Manda put in.
"You've both got very nice figures,” Mum continued, "You are bound to get some admiring looks.”
"But Mum...”
"But nothing.”
"Hers not mine,” Mand added.
"What?” Mum paused before shaking her head, "Take it as a compliment, don't get paranoid over it.”
"I bet you girls compare lads bodies,” Dad chipped in.
"Yeah,” I allowed, "But thats different.”
"Not from where I'm sat.”
"Your Dad's right kiddo, make the most of it, you'll start to spread before you know it.”
"Mu-um!” I complained.
"Its when they stop looking you should worry.”
"Isn't that a bit sexist?” Mand suggested.
Mum shrugged, "Maybe it is, but i'd rather they were commenting about my 'fit' bod rather than my looks or how big I am, back me up here Dave.”
"Don't drag me into this,” he told her even as he sat back from the table.
 

We were soon back on the road, joining the southbound Seven towards our turn off at Aalen. Once we left the autobahn the Hymer complained a bit as we climbed to the rim of the Ries basin before the drop through Bopfingen and across the crater towards the tower at Nordlingen. We didn't need to go into the town so we took the Ring to pick up the Twenty Five towards Donauwörth.

The climb out of the Ries on this side isn't too dramatic and we were soon over the top and dropping into the Wörnitztal. You can't see the Schloss from this direction until you get to the village and then not very well, Dad took the turn and we started the climb up to the Taxis' pile. Last year we weren't in this behemoth of course so instead of turning into the Schloss itself we drove a few metres further on to the car park.

We were barely stopped before the interminable whine of a quad bike rent the air and moments later, said machine slewed to a halt in front of the Hymer.

"Dave, Jenny, girls, welcome!” the rider greeted as he dismounted.
"Ludwig, good of you to have us again,” Dad proferred as they exchanged a handshake.
"We've been looking forward to it, glad you could make it, you've had a busy Wehnachts season yes?”
"Very,” Mum supplied, "Nice to see you Ludi.”

They exchanged one oif those half hug things that adults do.

"Girls,” the Duke went on, "My daughter has been like a small child all morning, come lets get you inside, we'll fetch your things after Kaffee.”
 
We must have been a funny sight, the visitors wrapped in ski jackets and the Duke of Thun und Taxis strolling along looking like farmer Giles just finished with the pigs! Well it was horse rather than pig that assailed the nostrils but you get the idea. The adults were soon having a lively conversation, Mand and I tagged along behind, momentarily forgotten.

Its not a long walk from the car park, a hundred metres or so to the castle, another fifty into the inner courtyard and the family apartments. I know the von Strechau's live in a Schloss but this place is in a different league, a 'proper' castle with battlements and everything and a few tourists. We traipsed across the inner court and into the surprisingly cosy family block where I was engulfed by Sophia.

"Gabee!”
"Er hi Soph,” I managed as she tried to squeeze the life out of me.
 

So much has happened since we first met when I was 'hoisted' onto her at The Munich wedding, its not quite the film title, we've not had a funeral but we have had three weddings. It is kind of weird that we know each other, let alone get along like we do, lets face it, she's part of the 'landed gentry', daughter of a Duke and I'm, well the Bond's are not. Not only that but she's into horses, frilly stuff, girls, lives two hundred kilometres away and she's a year older than me, not exactly a recipe for friendship with a bike mad, boy liking midget – our common ground is being blonde!

 
"Ludi,” Marianne, Sophs mum, the Duchess, addressed her spouse, "Bags?”

Somehow we've already been in Harburg over an hour, drunk Glühwein, eaten Apfelküchl and met the grandchild, a cute bundle going by Heinrich Siegmund or just Heini. The family seem to have got over the almost scandal, shotgun wedding although its clear Sara's hubby hasn't reached the exalted status of 'family' one hundred percent as yet.

Of course, their presence means the sleeping arrangements are a little different to last year, hence coming in the Hymer.

"Jenny, i've put you and Dave in the same room from last year,” Marianne mentioned once Dad and the Duke had set off.
"Thanks,” Mum replied.
"Sorry you girls are having to 'camp'.”
"That's okay,” I offered in turn.
"Gab could share with me again?” Sophia suggested.
"That wouldn't be very fair on Amanda would it dear?” her mother observed.
"I'd be alright,” Mand stated.

Look, I love Soph to bits but after last year I don't really want to share her bed, however well meaning the offer.

"What about if Mand bunks with Sophia and I use the Hymer, i've camped loads,” I countered, "That's if you don't mind Soph?”

I guess it sort of put her between a rock and a hard place.

"No, no, thats fine.”

The look on her face said otherwise but having made the initial offer she could hardly now renege on it.
 

"What was all that about?” Mand asked as we got ourselves ready for dinner in the Hymer, well all our stuff is stowed in here.
"All what?”
"You know, the bed sharing, not that I mind not sleeping out here.”
"I just thought you'd prefer to be in the house.”
"Hmm.”
"She's got an en suite, the shower a bit iffy but its better than in here.”
"I just know there's more to this.”
"There's not, honest, would I lie to you?”
"In a flash.”

That's me told.

Dinner tonight isn't too fancy, thats tomorrow but you don't dine with the Duke and Duchess wearing ski pants and a roll neck jumper. Tonight then is 'family casual' which in this context is a posh frock just without all the glitz. Given I'll be wearing Kostum tomorrow night I pretty much grabbed the first frock I came to in the wardrobe when I was packing, its black, fairly tailored and I didn't wear it last year
 
Knock,knock!

"You girls ready?” Dad enquired from beyond the Hymers door.
"Just about, you can come in,” I suggested.
Dad climbed in bringing in a draught of decidedly cool Bavarian air.
"Geez!” I allowed.
"Think we need coats Gab,” my co dresser suggested tugging at her hemline.
"You'll certainly need something later Gab,” Dad noted.
“'kay.”

I slipped my best heels on, ta da, i've grown ten centimetres, I'm almost on eye level with Manda's nose! Guess I'm doomed to spend my life looking up to people physically if not metaphorically. A quick dash of perfume, grab my jacket, I'm done.

Outside a fairly new Golf was idling, turns out it belongs to Jannis, Sara's hubby, Mand and I squeezed into the back next to the baby seat, Dad, after locking up the camper taking the front passenger spot. Our chauffeur didn't spare the horses, it felt like the journey finished before it started, the poor car bouncing on the suspension when we pulled up next to the 'house'.

"Thanks Jan,” Dad offered.
"No trouble.”
"Yeah thanks Jannis,” I added.

They say marriage changes people, well its clear its changed Jannis, oh he's still far too tall and built like a pipe cleaner but he has lost most of the acne. By the way he and Sara converse I think that away from the Duke, he's actually quite confident, its just Ludwig who turns him into a jibbering idiot!
 

"See you in the morning,” I told the departing backs of Soph and Mand as they headed up the stairs.
"Nite Gab,” Mand called back down.

Oh well, I guess it was inevitable, Sophia has had a mog on with me all evening, our conversation has been minimal to say the least despite being sat opposite at the table.

"Lets get you to your bed chamber,” the Duke suggested coming out into the hallway.
"Er sure,” I agreed zipping up my jacket.

There had been some discourse about how I was getting back to my abode, Dad, well Mum too having 'enjoyed' the evening were both out, Jan had already gone with his wife upstairs which left the Duke and Duchess.

"I can go on my own,” I suggested.
"Its late and you are a young woman, you are not walking around the countryside on your own,” Dad had insisted.
"I'll take her,” Ludi suggested.

And so it was decided.

I poked my head back into the parlour, "Nite everyone,”
"Nite kiddo.”
"Goodnight Gabrielle.”
"Sleep well Gab – and lock the door,” Dad added.
"I will, tschussie.”

I closed the door then followed the Duke outside.
 
"Where are you going?”
"The camper?”
"You aren't walking there, come.”

Ot oh. He was heading towards the parked cars but veered off before we reached them only to stop at the quad bike.

"We going on that?”
"Sure,” he advised climbing on.
"Er I think i'd best walk.”
"Don't be so silly, climb on behind.”
"My um dress.”
"Of course,” he slapped his forehead before dismounting, "Here.”

I wasn't expecting him to lift me up and plonk me on the seat, side saddle.

"Eep!”

He climbed back on in front of me and hit the start button, "Hold on!”

I didn't need a second encouragement, I gripped the Duke as if my life depended on it, maybe it did? We jounced over the cobbles and out of the inner courtyard, at least we weren't being shaken about as much, instead the speed increased. Down the approach, screech, onto the lane and out through the gate – it felt like we were doing a hundred miles per hour.

From start to finish was probably about two minutes, two minutes i'd rather not repeat any time soon.
 
© Maddy Bell 07.07.2019

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

 
I know I made a big hoo ha about being a seasoned camper last night which I sort of am but that doesn't mean i've done it alone. In fact I'm almost certain that last night was the first time i've 'camped' solo, oh i've had a 'pup' tent next to the camper a few times back when we had the LT or Bus but my parents were only like feet away. No, last night I was totally alone.

Not that I was scared, well not that much, but it did take me a while to get to sleep. The problem was it was so quiet, or actually not, there was an owl kept hooting then I think there was a fox yipping and I'm sure there was something sniffing around the Hymer at one point. In the end it was exhaustion that took me into dreamland.

I heard the camper door open, followed in short order by Dad's voice.

"You awake kiddo?”
"Ugh!”
"Time to rise and shine if you want breakfast.”
"Minute.”

I won't say I leapt from the covers, it was more a slow crawl, before heading for my 'en camper' facilities.

"Manda says can you bring her jeans and red top over.”
"Er sure,” I allowed poking my head out into the lounge area where Dad was waiting, "What're we doing today?”
"There was some mention of Pferde, I think the other option is a walk.”
“'kay.”

Well at least I know what I'm not doing!
 

"Sleep okay?” Dad enquired as we started the walk back into the Burg.
"You mean after the animal chorus, there was an owl giving it some for hours, apart from that okay I guess.”

The morning air was fresh, a few patches of frost decorated the more secluded areas, the sky, an azure almost too intense to be real.

"Looks like a nice day in store.”
"Yeah,” I agreed.

Soph was looking a fair bit happier this morning, she even gave me a quick hug when I came in with Pater.

"Thanks Gab,” Mand told me as she did the same.
"What'd I do?”
"You Gaby Bond, know exactly what you did.”
"Come on you two,” Sara chivvied, "Breakfast will be cold.”

Hmm, intriguing, a hot breakfast?
 
Everyone else was of course by now in the kitchen, it was a veritable scene of companionable chaos, babies, dogs, food being passed around, the smell of some half decent coffee and overlying that at least half a dozen seperate conversations.

"Help yoursellves girls,” Marianne encouraged, "There's bacon and eggs on the warmer.”

Ooo, I like the sound of this.

"You riding Gabs?” Mand enquired some time and food later.
"Think I'll give it a miss.”
"Soph is going to show me the old Wörnitzer Straße.”
"Very nice.”
"You should come, Gaby, its a very nice ride,” Soph put in from across the table.

Nice it might be, my bum was black and blue after last year's trekking experience.

"Think I'll stick to two legs.”

A snatch of conversation from down the other end of the huge kitchen table caught my attention at that point.

“...i'm sure she wouldn't mind, she's great with her friends daughter,” Mum concluded.

What am I being volunteered for now?
 

"Are you sure Gaby?” Sara asked for the umpteenth time.
"I'm sure, its not like I'll be on my own.”
"Thanks, we owe you one.”
"I'll start a tab. We'll be fine eh Heini?”

The baby just smiled and blew bubbles at me.

"Bye little man,” his mother cooed, "mummy and daddy will see you later.”
"Go before I change my mind,” I suggested.

What have I been volunteered for? Babysitting of course, Soph and Mand are going trekking, Sara was bemoaning that she'd not ridden since junior arrived so yours truly got the job as Jannis has to be the sacrificial non horsey person on the riding trip. Great, he's like three months old, he can't be that much trouble, right? The grandparents and my parents? well there was some talk of driving down to Donauwörth for lunch.

 
"You okay for a bit kiddo, Ludwig wants to show me and yor dad something.”
"I guess so,” I glanced over at my charge, "Don't think my date is going anywhere soon.”

Indeed Heini was currently fast asleep.

"We won't be long then we'll go out for some lunch okay?”
"Sure, have fun.”

She crept back out of the family room, I could hear the Taxis and Dad talking, not what though, I'm sure I'll find out later if its important.
 

A few minutes later and it was just me and Heini in the house, a clock loudly ticking somewhere but otherwise almost silent. The really unusual thing is that apart from sitting the baby, i've got nothing I'm supposed to be doing, no college stuff, no training, no place to be or people to see which for me pretty much never happens. I had a mooch around the room, Soph gave me the tour last year but here and now I could actually look at stuff.

Of course, the family spend most of their time at the house in Stuttgart and I think they have some huge country pile somewhere but even so there are recent photos on the dresser, ha, even one with me and Max on from Sara's wedding. I browsed along the shelf, the more recent images sat cheek by jowl with much older examples, previous generations of Taxis, whole football teams of European nobility stood next to what appeared to be Sara and Sophia dressed for Communion or something. Mutton chopped Dukes, crinolined Duchess's, someone sat on a horse, another haughtily in the back of an early car, the movers and shakers of a century past.

Of course its not all photographs, a wide variety of trinkets of one sort another vie for position too, an ornate paperknife, the inscription suggesting it was a gift from the Kaiser alongside one of those sort of frosted glass vases you see on the antique shows, Lally or some such. There was a pile of quite recent looking magazines, Stern, Bild, some horsey thing, several of those 'country' things and of all things a copy of Septembers Auto. That last was the only thing even half interesting so I took it with me back to the sofa for a peruse.
 

I'm not sure which came first, the sound of returning parents or Heini's whimper, I guess it doesn't matter, Tante Gaby sprang into action. I'm not sure where it comes from but Mum was right earlier, I might be the youngest but i've always had this, I dunno, rapport with babies and young children. That doesn't mean I want any of my own – not gonna happen any time soon, but they usually behave for me.

By the time the Rents found me, Heini was sucking up the milk his mum had expressed earlier, happy as Larry.

"Looks like you two are getting along,” Marianne observed.
"He's mostly been asleep, he woke up hungry when you got back.”
"You did do well,” she suggested.
"I told you she was good Mari,” Mum mentioned.
"Do you think you can manage a ride down to Donauwörth Gaby?”
"I guess.”
"Okay, finish his feed then I'll do the neccesary before we head out.”

I might be the official child minder but i've escaped the nappy changing, result!

 
Its only about ten kilometres down to Donauwörth, just as well given we were travelling in an elderly Mercedes G Wagon, not the most comfortable ride and a bit cramped with five and a baby plus all its stuff, it was literally a ten minute drive then a further couple finding parking. Then things started to get weird!

I hadn't really thought of the implications but clearly if you see a young woman pushing a young baby in a pram, in the company of probable grandparents, you could be forgiven for assuming the child was hers. Of course, all babies are cute, all need cooing over, standard questions are asked and repeat, by the time we reached the Donauspitz, the point where the Wörnitz joins the Donau, it had happened three times. Thing is, the parental brigade just answered without any thought, 'you must be proud – of course', 'has his mothers eyes' – pretty good chance of that.

It would be easy to get upset by the assumptions but heck, i'd probably do the same given the dynamic – a girl with her parents and a grandchild – the fact that we aren't mother and son or even related at all doesn't come into it. The embarrassment dropped a notch when the Duke took over pushing duties but it was pointless trying to explain to strangers. Our hosts clearly had an eatery in mind and we ended up looking out over the Wörnitz from the Cafe Rasffaello.

Of course, this evening we have a big meal to look forward to so, having had a decent breakfast, this was more of an excuse to get out than really eat. I didn't say we weren't eating, I had a nice bowl of Gulaschsuppe to stave off starvation, salad, pommes and expressed milk also featured, the last given by granny this time. The well behaved babe act couldn't last though, he started fretting halfway through the strudel, Marianne and myself ended up running a tag team of soothing walks along the street.

Its the Law of Sod that as soon as we got back to the car, Heini, bless his cotton socks, dropped off. Well its not like we wanted to look in any shops is it?
 

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, I relinquished babysitting duties to Oma and went for a bit of a walk up onto the common where the fireworks were being set up for later. Well watching men work isn't that exciting so I started to make my way back which is how I ended up by the stables as the horsey explorers returned.

"Hey Gaby,” Soph called over, "You missed a great ride.”
"I'll live.”
"Where's Heini?” Sara asked with the merest hint of panic in her voice.
"With Oma, think he's worn out from his adventures.”
"Adventures?” there was more than a hint of panic now.
"She's winding you up Saz,” Mand suggested.
"So what've you been up to,” Soph queried having dismounted.
"Not a lot,” I admitted, "Read for a bit then we went down to Donauwörth for lunch, i've just been up to the fireworks.”
"How has Heini been,” Sara asked joining us after handing off her own mount.
"Fine, two feeds, lots of sleep, met lots of people.”
"Sleep? He never sleeps!”
"I swear, he slept most of the morning and he was snoozing when I came out.”
"Er liebchen, darling,” a worried voice carried to us, "Help!”

All eyes swung to Jan still sat atop his steed.

"Geez, grow a set Jannis,” Soph opined.
"Just swing your leg over and slide off,” Sara told him.
"He's worse than you,” Mand whispered to me as Sara went to rescue her spouse from eternal equine co existence.
 

By the time we arrived back at the schloss it was getting dark and preparations for the bean feast were well under way. Of course, most of the food has been prepared in the kitchens of the restaurant, catering staff seemed to be everywhere.

"Ah, there you are,” Mum pointlessly noted.
"Yep, in the flesh,” I agreed.
"Go with your Dad and fetch your stuff for tonight, you too Amanda, there won't be a chance of a taxi service tonight.”
"Where is Dad?”
"Right here, come on, i've got to get ready too you know.”
"I'll shower whilst your out,” Mum advised.
"Where am I...”
"You can use mine,” Soph offered, pre empting my question.
"Right.”
"Gabrielle,” Dad intoned.

Oops, someone is getting stressed.

"Coming.”

There was of course more to it than simply picking up my Kostum and Manda's long frock. Oh yes, Dad had his and Mum's stuff, then there was footwear and undies and I needed my wash kit. Well it took us nearly forty five minutes all told which gave us not much more than an hour before the first outside guests would be arriving – panic!

Soph was already half way dressed when Mand and I got to her room.

"Thought you'd gone home.”
"Just a lot of stuff,” I suggested as i hung my outfit on the back of the door.
"You'd best shower first Gabs, it won't take me long to dress,” Mand supplied.
"What're you wearing Gab?” Soph asked.
"Dirndle, the works.”
"Really?”
I shrugged, "No fashion arms race.”
"You're no fun, I'll have to wear one now,” she pouted.
"Well I'm not,” Manda offered, "Don't let Gab's put you off.”

I grabbed my wash kit and headed for the bathroom.

"Extra towels in the cupboard,” Soph called after me.
"Thanks!”
 

"So how're we doing this?” Mand queried.
"You're the hair expert.”
"Up or down?”
I thought for a moment, "Up, something classy.”
"We haven't exactly got all night you know.”
"Best get started then,” I prompted.

Sophia was already downstairs, we were running a bit behind – remember the dodgy shower? Well it got even dodgier halfway through my cleansing exercise, c'est la vie.

"You and Soph are getting on okay?” I hinted.
"Er quite well.”
"Just quite?”
"Okay, very, sit still.”
"You two....”
"Yes, no and maybe, now stop squirming.”

Well I guess thats told me, I'll have to make questions up to match the answers.
 

"So?”
"Heidi eat your heart out,” my hairdresser suggested.
"Its not too much?”
"I am not taking it out Gaby Bond.”

I've no idea where she learnt how but Mand really is the knees when it comes to hair braiding. Tonights creation is to say the least complicated and intricate, a description from me doesn't do it any justice, theres a sort of woven bit and a coil and this other bit – well it looks stupendous.

Of course, like I told Soph, i've gone a hundred and ten percent, my best dirndle, all the proper underpinnings – I know, seems excessive but there is method in my madness. So its holdups, knickers, long bloomers, underskirt, BH, unterbrusthalter, yup the whole nine yards. By comparison i've kept the jewellery and makeup to a minimum, don't need to over do the decorations eh?
 

The reception room was buzzing when we got there, I scanned the room looking for my parents to no avail. I'd been stood for about a minute before I realised that the general hubbub was dying down, not only that but people were looking in my direction. I turned to see who was behind me, the Duke perhaps, but no, just Mand hovering at my elbow. This is like totally weird.

The room was all but silent now and every eye was turned my way, I smiled back, help!

"Gabrielle,” the Duchess' voice called out, "A moment please?”
"Your Grace,” I allowed heading towards our hostest.

Eyes followed me across the crowded space, a route mysteriously opening to allow my transit. By the time I reached Marianne conversation had restarted and I suddenly recognised the woman stood with her.

"Quite an entrance Gabrielle.”
"It wasn't planned Your Grace,” i turned to her companion, "Mum?”
"Well I thought I should make an effort.”
"You look great,” I enthused.
"Possibly but totally outshone by my daughter.”

If you haven't guessed, Mum was also wearing Kostum, she looked damn good if you ask me.

"I feel like the hired help,” Mand advised us.
"Far from it Amanda,” Marianne told her, "I think we are all in the shadow of Fraulein Bond this evening.”
"Damn,” Soph exclaimed joining our soirree, "She'd look good in a sack, in that no one else stands a chance.”
"Mein Gott,” the Duke exclaimed as he and my Dad arrived, "I'm glad this isn't one of mine Dave.”
"Its a nightmare alright,” Dad agreed.
"Daddy!”
"Damn, Ludwig, its one of mine!” he grinned.

Dad and the Duke were of course rockin' the whole Kostum thing, I think I'm allowed to say that Dad looks well handsome.
 
Ting, ting!

"Dinner is served!”

My stomach rumbled at the very idea – not that I'll be eating that much trussed up in this lot.

The Duke offered his arm, "If you'd care to join me Fraulein?”
"Er certainly Your Grace.”
 
© Maddy Bell 10.07.2019

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

 
If you remember from last time, this gathering is one of the highlights in the local social calendar, whilst the fireworks are for everyone, an invitation to dine at the Schloss is the hot ticket. It might not be a huge affair but that very intimacy ads to the caché of an invite and a chance to brag. Its actually a little amusing watching how the hoi polloi act and defer to the Taxis and indeed anyone they feel is above them in the social structure.

As the family Bond are not local and clearly on first name terms with the Duchy, that rubs off onto us too, I don't suppose our choice of clothing for the evening lessens that idea. Its a weird inverted thing, the gentry wear 'peasant' clothing and the 'underlings' pull out all the stops in glitzy outfits – yeah go figure. Whatever, Kostum is an easier and generally more comfortable choice than some designer frock – doesn't hurt that I look good in it either!

So anyway after everyone was seated, I got to sit next to the Duke for some reason, the caterers started, er catering. It was to be one of those meals with lots of courses but tiny portions, never quite enough on the plate to really satisfy, on the other hand the sum is quite filling. So there was some mousse thing as the starter, a few mouthfuls of Nudeln suppe, salad then the main meat course of goose with a few roast vegetables before descending to mint icecream, cheese and finally coffee.

Seven courses isn't excessive, well not when it just about makes one square meal, the gaps between courses allowing for digestion and much discourse. Not that my opinion was called for very often which suits me but the conversation was interesting to listen to. The Mayor was bending Ludwig's ear about a new tourist office, other topics I eavesdropped included Dad having a very intense conversation about timber husbandry and some discussion further down the table about creche facilities.

Mand and Soph are really getting along like a house on fire, its the most animated i've seen de Vreen for a long time.
 
Ting, ting, ting!

The Duke stood and waited for the diners to quieten down.

"Its that time of year again,” he grinned, "I've fed you now you have to listen to me talk!”

There were, as you might expect a few amused noises around the table – well there are rules that must be observed.

"A year ago I stood here a carefree young man but in the intervening months i've welcomed not just a new son in law to the family but Marianne and I have become grand parents too, so I ask you all to raise your glasses to Jannis, stand young man, and the newest member of the family, Heinrich Siegmund or as we call him, Heini.”

We all did the glass waving with our recently recharged wine recepticals.

"As we prepare to leave one year we should look forward to the next, to the opportunities it will bring, not just for you all here in Harburg but across Germany and further around the world. I know I'm looking forward to the challenges of the New Year, to see what my family, friends and you, our neighbours here in Harburg will achieve. I won't ramble on any longer, I know you are all keen to see the fireworks, which I'm told should be spectacular – I hope so given the cost,” he grinned benevolently at his audience, "So without further to do, a toast, to all of us.”
'To all of us!” came the enthusiastic return followed by some light applause.

 
Of course, the fireworks aren't until midnight which is a short walk and best part of an hour away still.

"You changing to go out Gaby?” Soph enquired.
"Just my shoes.”
"Well there's no way I'm gonna go stand up on the common in this,” she stated.

I could see her point, it was a nice frock, a typical Sophia floaty number which will provide exactly nil in terms of warmth. It might be comparatively mild outside but even so, if last year is the stick it'll still be freezing. On the other hand, by the time i've got boots on and my jacket, I should be quite toasty with all this lot on – thats forward planning for you.

"Think I could get away with my jeans?” Mand asked hopefully.
"There will be questions and recriminations, “ I smirked.
"Dang, I haven't got anything else.”
"I can lend you something liebe,” Soph told her.
"I think I'm gonna borrow your facilities, it looks like a queue down here,” I mentioned.
"Sure, your stuff is up there anyhow.”
 
We got as far as the stairs before the Duchess' voice halted us in our tracks.

"And where pray are you three sloping off to?”
"Er my room for coats and er stuff,” Soph told her mother.
"Fifteen minutes, if you don't want to walk up.”
"Yes mama,” Soph managed to make her response sound quite pained.
"We'll be here Your Grace,” I added.
"Go.”

Well we didn't need it in writing, not that we could exactly run up the stairs dressed as we are but we made haste anyway.
 

"They're a bit tight,” Mand opined as she checked herself out in Soph's mirror.
"They're supposed to be,” I pointed out – again.
"I guess,” she grudgingly allowed.

They were a pair of black leather trousers and I'll concede that they fit only where they touched – in this case that meant everywhere. I'm not sure that they'll offer that much extra warmth, they must be cutting her circulation off!

"You look great, dressy but practical,” I told her.
"If you say so.”
Soph joined us from the en suite, "Hmm, good enough to eat.”

Too much information.

Soph herself was similarly attired, who has two pairs of leather trousers? But where Mand's dress was now effectively a tunic, Soph was rockin' a silk blouse.

"We'd best go down,” I suggested, "Or the Duchess will be having kittens.”
"We still have fifteen seconds,” Soph suggested as she shrugged into her jacket.

Still pushing the boundaries.
 

At least the transport wasn't side saddle on a quad bike tonight, a slightly creaky minibus was to be this evenings carriage. I had a few moments of trouser envy, yeah, you can't exactly be elegant getting up into a bus wearing a dirndl. The three of us took the rearmost row of seats, the rest of the capacity being of the older, well older than us female variety except for one old guy with a stick.

Pretty much everyone else had already left on foot, only Jan and Sara with the baby were still in the courtyard, looks like they're using their own car for the trip. We jounced out of the castle confines but instead of going left and directly up past the parkplatz, our driver took us right down the hill. Of course, everyone else is walking along the road, so coming this way and around the common is easier and safer for everyone.

Indeed, the couple of minutes it took the bus still had us parked by the viewing area before most of the walkers reached it although there were already a few non diners staking out their spots. There was no point in rushing to get down although the enticing smell of hot chocolate offered some inducement.
 

'Wheee.......POP!'
'Whizz...Bang! Bang! Bang!'

How can you describe a firework display? Rockets rocketed, bangers banged, Katherine wheels span, whizzers whizzed, lighting up the skies over Harburg with a rainbow of sparks. Explosions rent the air for a good fifteen minutes, the Duke must have spent some serious money on tonights entertainment. Hot chocolate was consumed, greetings exchanged – must remember to check my Handy when I get back to the Hymer, but after all the build up it was over far too soon.

The last gunpowder illuminated one of those set piece messages 'Frohes Neu Jahr 2007'.
 
"You three walking or riding?” Mum enquired as we made our way back to the road.
"You have to ask Frau Bond?” Soph posed.
"Well I'm only going to the camper,” I mentioned.
"But there's supper back at the Burg,” Soph advised.
"Gaby Bond miss food?” Mand suggested.
"Well make your mind up,” Marianne prompted, "Sigi is taking Herr Irmscher and his wife back down the hill after dropping you off.”

Hmm, bed or food? Who makes these things up? So of course, when we reached the bus I climbed aboard.
 

Supper turned out to be well worth the diversion of course, none of your coffee and cake rubbish. Nope tonight the family and house guests were treated to a help yourself buffet of which the centrepiece was a tureen of ham in a carbonara sauce which could be combined with either conchiglia or wild rice. I decided to give the shells a miss for a change – well the rice holds the sauce better, no contest.
 

I let out a bit of a protracted yawn.

"Sleepy kiddo?” Mum enquired from beside me on the sofa.
"Just a bit,” I allowed.
"Your Dad'll walk you.”
“'kay,” I agreed.

Well nothing is ever that simple. Finding Dad was easy enough, he was yacking with Ludwig, what they find to talk about is beyond me. However one look outside and everything was cancelled, it was lagging it down, and to compound matters no adults or teens for that matter were exactly drive safe sober.

"Looks like the sofa,” I suggested.
"You can share with me, your Dad can have the sofa.”
"Erm,” not the best of solutions given Dad's driving us home tomorrow.
"She can share with us,” Soph opined, "My bed's huge.”

Well I can attest to that.

Dad gave me an appealling look, "What do you reckon Spud?”
"Er okay, looks like a three girl night.”
 

"Sorry about this,” I whispered to Mand a few minutes later.
"Not your fault,” she shrugged.
A moment later Sophia materialised from her wardrobe, "Here you go Gab,” she passed me what I assumed was nightwear.
"Er cheers Soph.”
"Hey what are friends for?”
"I'll er just go get changed then.”
"Need any help?” Manda asked.
"I can manage.”

Lets face it, getting out of Kostum is far easier than getting it on, yes it had been reasonably warm at the fireworks but after what, nearly eight hours it was starting to irritate a bit. Strip, quick wash and put on Soph's PJ's then out to bed – which was now occupied by the other too.

"Here,” Soph patted the bed next to her, "Tonight I have two girlfriends!”

Great. Well whatever had been going through Sophia's head never came to pass, I was out like a lamp as soon as my head hit the pillow.
 

My return to consciousness seemed to come all too soon. There was light, I got that through my still closed eyelids and the bed was comfortable, really? One thing the bed in the Hymer can't claim is any real sense of comfort. I concentrated my grey matter, last night, bed?

My eyes sprang fully open, the direct result of being whacked across the face by a wayward limb. It all came tumbling back into focus, fireworks, supper, rain – Soph's bed which means...

"Mornin'”
"Er yeah,” I agreed to my hosts statement.
"Mornin' Gab,” a second voice offered.
"Ditto. Er be right back.”

I shot from the bed and into the bathroom – not because I needed to use it but, well, two's company, three's a crowd and all that. On the plus side my 'day' clothes are still in here so at least I don't have to put my Kostum back on.
 
"You done in there?” Mand enquired with a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Er sure,” I opened the door and she shot past like a whippet.
"You sleep okay?” Soph asked from where she was propped against the pillows.
"I guess,” I allowed.
"Pretty good night yeah?”
"It was okay.”

One moment she was languidly lying on the bed, the next she bounced up and was dragging on a dressing gown.

"Come on Gabs, breakfast!”
"Shouldn't we wait for Mand?”
"She'll find us, come”

Of course, over the last couple of years i've learnt that there is always a price to pay if you deny Sophia Taxis, its easier to just go along for the ride. I got halfway down the stairs before realising I was a) unshod and b) still in Soph's pyjamas. Of course now that my brain had assimilated the situation I winced at every cold step for the rest of the descent and short trail to the kitchen.
 

"Nice jarma's Gaby,” Sara smirked, looking up from where her offspring was having his breakfast.
"Had to borrow from your sister,” I replied.
"I thought you'd grown out of 'My Little Pony',” Saz teased her sister who was busy sloshing coffee into cups.
"Of course, I outgrew that stuff years ago but Gab needed something to wear.”

Okay so maybe the brain isn't quite up to two thousand and seven speed yet, I looked down at what I was wearing which was, I now noted, very pink and decorated across my bosom with, yup one of the cutesy and offensively glittery MLP beasties – aargh! If this ever gets out I'm toast, I'll forever be MLP girl.

"Thought you might want this,” Mand offered as she chucked what turned out to be my fleece over my head.

There is a god!

"Er cheers Mand.”
“'s no problem, so what's for brekkie?”
"Self service this morning,” Sara told us, "Stuff in the fridge and larder.”
"Coffee!” Soph brandished the pot.
"Its a start,” Mand allowed.
"Well I need food too,” I mumbled heading to the large refrigerator to see what I could find.
 
Of course, I couldn't just sort myself out, so I soon had bacon and scrambled egg on the go, had Mand finding crock and cutlery and even Sophia setting the table. It didn't take long before parental units started appearing, the Duke followed in short order by Mum, Dad and Marianne.

"Well this is a surprise,” the Duchess allowed settling herself at the table.
I shrugged, "Its as easy feeding six or seven as one.”
"You get this at home Dave?” Ludi queried.
"I wish,” Pater supplied, "If anything its me making it.”
"Ha, when has that happened Dave Bond,” Mum shot.
"I put the coffee on.”
"Thanks Dad,” I mumbled.

Truth be told, with everyone up and about at different times a family breakfast is quite rare so DIY works best. Of course when we are all about its the full works, sometimes that even runs to an English style cooked breakfast – well, when we can get some proper bangers.

 
By the time everyone had eaten their fill it was almost ten and whilst I had managed to get dressed no one else had progressed beyond dressing gowns.

"Well I suppose we should get ourselves organised,” Dad offered with a sigh.
"You're welcome to stay through tomorrow, we aren't going back to the town house for a couple of days,” Duke Ludwig told us.
"Thanks for offering....” Dad started.
"We'd love to,” Mum interrupted.
"Thats settled then,” Marianne stated, "More coffee?”

 
"So when are you back?” Max asked.
"Late tomorrow I think, so how was Neu Jahre in Rech?”
"You have to ask? Boring! Gran fell asleep so me and Dad had to carry her up to her room.”
"Such fun,” I giggled into my Handy.
"So I suppose spending it with my la di da relatives in their castle was more exciting?”
"Its had its moments,” I allowed, "And I don't think you need worry about Soph any more.”
"Not that I am but how so?”
"I'll tell you when I get back, lets just say she bats for the other side.”
"For the other side, what are you on about Liebchen?”
"Sometimes von Strechau you are just so dumb.”
"Thats my middle name.”
"I know for a fact its Maria.”
"So thats what the M stands for.”

Men!
 
© Maddy Bell 12.07.2019

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

 
Our delayed departure from Harburg had several posiitive results, Dad had plenty of time to sober up, everyone got to relax more than usual and me, Mand and Soph got to explore the attics again – well Mand for the first. So okay, last year I got 'tricked' into one of Soph's ancestors dresses and was literally sewn into it, but I wasn't falling for that trick again.

"This is well cool,” Mand opined.
"Told you,” I pointed out.
"Don't you guys ever throw anything out?” de Vreen asked the same question I did last year.
"Not much,” Soph replied with a shrug, "You never know when a broken chamber pot will come in useful,” she concluded dropping said bit of china back into the box it shared with other broken pottery.
"Is it all catalogued now?” I enquired.
"Catalogued?” Mand queried.
"For the museum,”Soph explained for Manda, "Pretty much, think there's a few boxes of rubbish not done.”

"What do you reckon this is for?” Mand asked as she turned the weird chunk of metalwork over.
"Metal knickers?” I suggested when it clanked shut.
"Chastity belt I think,” Soph proposed.
"Can you imagine being locked in that while hubby went off to the Crusades?”
"Hardly a belt is it,” Mand pointed out, "And who was it for, a five year old, its tiny.”
"Well it had to be tight to work,” Soph observed.
"But still, I bet its only about sixty centimetres, even Gabs wouldn't fit.”
"Hey I'm not that big.”
"Prove it,” Mand taunted
"I don't need to.”
"You could put around your waist to see,” Soph suggested.
"I bet it won't fit, its tiny,” Mand stated.
"Gis it here,” I huffed, well a girls got her pride.
"You'll have to take your jeans off.”
"Hmph!” I undid my denim and slid them clear of my waist.
"You want me to put it round?” Sophia asked.
"I can manage,” I huffed, pretty much snatching the metal work from de Vreen's hand.

I turned the thing around to work out how it went, what I thought at first was the waist hole was in fact a leg aperture, the flappy bit just closed around the waist and I guess got padlocked shut. Method worked out I tried to get it around my middle, it was certainly tight, I eased myself as far as I could into the fixed half and tried to close it. Not happening, I wasn't at the right angle.

"Its not that far off,” Mand conceded.
"If I could just get it a bit straighter.”

A second attempt with it upside down was no better but I'm sure the belt bit would fit if it wasn't for the rest of it.

"Guess there's only one real way to check, put it on properly,” Soph proposed.
"Not likely!”
"Guess we'll never know then.”
"Its not like we can lock it,” Mand additionally pointed out.

Well that was true enough, the open end pushed through a slot and you then had to put some sort of lock through the hole in the end to secure it. I opened and closed it a few times, in, out, I guess the row of holes allowed for a bit of adjustment. We'll see who's a fatty!

"Okay, I'll do it.”
"Yes!” Mand hissed.

I put the ironwork down, then removed my boots and peeled my trousers off of my legs.

"Nice lingerie Bond.”
"They're comfortable okay,” I told Taxis whilst rearranging my cotton briefs a bit better.
"You want some help?” Mand offered.
"Think I can manage,” well you can't be too careful, it would be just like this pair to lock me in somehow.

I stepped into the fixed leg hole and slid it up past my knee where it got a bit snug.

“'snot gonna fit,” I mentioned.
"Its those cycling thighs,” Mand suggested.
"I dunno,” Soph poked at my thigh, "Stand on your toes.”
"Why?”
"Makes your legs thinner.”

Sounds like bull to me but whatever, I stood on my toes and with a bit of help from Soph, sure enough it pulled up all the way.

"Close it then,” Mand instructed.
"Gis a chance.”

I carefully swung the loose section into place but whilst the tab reached the loopy bit it wouldn't go in.

"Its close,” Manda stated after giving it a push herself.
"Try on your toes again,” Sophia suggested, "I'll push it together.”

Okay, they say pride comes before the fall but this thing isn't gonna beat me. The first attempt was a wash, I couldn't balance long enough.

"Lean on me,” Mand instructed.

I rested my hands on her shoulders and tried again, there was a firm pressure around my middle as Soph pushed it together.

"Nearly, breath in.”

I took a deep lungful of air and ui'm guessing the tab slid into place as Soph let out a 'yes!'.

"Happy?” I asked dropping my heels back to the floor, conscious now of a constant pressure around my waist and over my lady bits.

Mand shrugged, "I guess.”
"Your turn Amanda,” Soph suggested.
"I'm bigger than Gab, not by much but thats tight.”
"I know, you can try the bridle,” Soph enthused as she disapeared for a moment or two.
"Bridle?”
"Fitting, much!” I allowed as Taxis returned with what looked like the skeleton of a full head helmet, "Scolds bridle, they used to put them on nagging women basck in the day.” Sometimes following Dad around museums does have some positive pay back.
"I do not nag and I am not putting that on.”
"Chicken, squawk, squawk!”
"Its easier than the chastity,” Soph pointed out opening the back of the cage to show her.
"I dunno,” Mand erred, "Whats that flat bit for?”
"Thats what stops you talking,” I took the bridle from Soph, and pushed my face in, "See, it goes over your tongue an stops you talking.”

Bad mistake, it was quite a tight fit and in waggling the thing to get back out the back half swung shut with a clunk.

"Et I oen!”
"I cant, its jammed itself inside,” Soph told me after tugging at it.
"Ot?”

Mand had a look, an experimental tug but nope, it was stuck fast.

"Ate!”

Don't panic Bond, its not locked, its just stuck, lets get the chastity belt off and at least I can be dressed to go get some help. I tried hooking a couple of fingers inside the belt to pull it apart but it was too tight by far.

"Let me have a look,” Soph suggested.

Well I was hardly in a place to veto that idea.

After a bit of tugging, poking and cursing it was still clasped around my waist.

"I can't move it, I think we need help.”

Why me?

"Jannis and Sara are downstairs I think,” Mand told us.
"They'll have to do,” Sophia agreed, "Can you walk Gab?”
"Urgh?”
"We can't take her downstairs like this,” Mand opined.
"True, don't want to scandalise anyone,” Sophia snarked.

I just flung my arms skyward.
 

Ten minutes later we'd got my jeans on although they wouldn't do up over the iron knickers, boots were back on my feet and we started the descent to the occupied levels of the tower. Doesn't sound difficult but when you've got steel knickers on and your trying to stop the stupid thing wedged on your head moving too much, well fun not.

"Saz? You in there?”
"What?” the dismembered tones of Sara Taxis as was demanded.
"Er, we've er got a situation?”
"What've you done now?”
"Not me, Gaby.”

Blame me! There was a muffled conversation before the door sprang open, Jannis behind it.

"What the?” he exclaimed seeing my becaged head, "You've got to see this Saz!"
"Can we come in,” Soph hinted.

Well a brief explanation of how the cage got stuck on my head, a bit of grunting from Jan and after thirty minutes of eating the iron tongue I was free!

"Urgh! You got anything to drink, that thing tastes vile.”
"There's lemonade on the dresser.”
"Thanks.”
"You really need to stand your ground with my sister Gaby, the dress last year, then this,” Sarah pointed out.
"It was an accident,” Soph offered in her defence.
"Yeah Gabs was showing me how it worked,” Mand added.

The lemonade was pretty much flat but it did get rid of most of the er, metalic taste from my mouth, how anyone coped with having one of these things on their head for maybe weeks, well not nice.
 
"Erm, there's something else,” I started.
"This I have to hear,” Jannis grinned.

I undid the zip fully and tugged my jeans down.

"Whoa, less of the striptease” Sara told me.
"I cant get this off either,” I sighed.
"She's just a magnet for trouble,” Jannis stated.
"Well mittelalter torture devices,” Soph added with a giggle.
"Not helping,” I whined.
"It pushed together but it won't come back out,” Mand helpfully advised.
"Ew, thats so nasty,” Sarah stated as her husband fell about laughing.
"Its not funny.”
"Okay, let me take a look,” Jan got out between guffaws.

"Its well wedged, I can't shift it,” my 'saviour' announced after waggling, bashing and twisting my unwanted metal underwear for several minutes,
"But it worked okay before I put it on,” I groaned.
 

It was two hours later that the parents returned from their walk and we had to go through the whole explanation again – well we left out the bridle – do I look stupid? No don't answer that.

"Hmm,” Dad hmmed, "I think I see the problem.”
"Which is?”
"Its wedged.”
"We'd worked that out already,” I groaned.
"No, not just stuck, its wedged in place, it needs to pull out straight or the holes get caught.”
"Well unwedge it then.”
"You got any tools Ludi?”
"Maybe a small electrical screwdriver,” the Duke advised, a man just about containing his amusement.
"Think we need something a bit beefier,” Dad sighed, "Lets get you out to the Hymer.”

Do you know how undignified and embarrasing it is to have your Dad extricate you from a medieval chastity belt that you shouldn't've been 'wearing' in the first place? Very and it doesn't help when the owner of said item happens to be your friends dad, your host and he finds it hilarious. Once Dad had it figured the two of them had me released in a couple of minutes, seems it was so tight on my middle that it was me that had trapped myself.
 

"Any chance of a bit less drama, at least until we get home Daughter?” Mum enquired.
"I didn't mean to,” I started.
She sighed, pausing from her clothes packing, "You never do kiddo, trouble just seems to find you.”
"Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh.”
"I hope you apologized to Ludwig.”
"Yes Mum.”

About the chastity, yes, Sara and Jannis are sworn to secrecy about the other, er, item!
 

"Its been good to see you all again,” Marianne told us as we congregated on the car park prior to our departure.
"Thank you for inviting us,” Dad offered.
"Sorry about the er, incident,” Mum added, giving me a Look.
"No harm done,” the Duke grinned, "Let me know those dates Dave and we'll get something sorted.”
"I will, thanks Ludwig.”

While the 'seniors' exchanged farewells, Soph, Mand and myself were making our own goodbyes.

"I'll talk to mama about Köln,” Soph told us.
"That'd be so cool,” Mand enthused.
"And I'll send you that CD,” I promised.
"I can't believe I know a real rock star,” Soph gushed.
"Well I wouldn't go that far.”
"Time girls,” Mum called over.
"See you soon Gabs,” Soph mentioned as we hugged.
"Yeah,” I agreed as we seperated.
"I'll miss you Amanda.”
"Me too,” de Vreen agreed, "I mean I'll miss you too.”

So okay their hugging was a little bit beyond a quick goodbye, at least they weren't necking.
 

As we weren't calling on my sister on the way back, well Mum had suggested it but Dad vetoed it as its a long enough drive back as it is, anyhow, we got on the autobahn and just followed the signs for Frankfurt. We needed fuel, and a comfort stop so we took a break at Spessart services, which turned into a late lunch having only had coffee and cake since breakfast. Then it was the long haul across to the airport with its usual traffic jams through the roadworks before picking up the road north.

"When are you back at school?”
"Wednesday,” Mand sighed, "You?”
"Same.”
"Which means....”
"Mu-um?”
"Wha-at?”
"Can we have a party?”
"I'm listening.”
"Well we haven't seen anyone since before Chrimbo, well not really, we were thinking we could have a late New Years party?”
"And when exactly were you thinking of holding this soireé?”
"Tuesday?”

There was a pause, I saw Dad's shoulders go as my parents communicated by telepathy.

"No more than twenty, you do the catering, we'll supply the drinks.”

Yes!

"Okay.”
"What, no arguing, put it in the diary Dave, no arguing over party.”
"Yes luv.”

By the time we turned off to drop down to Nieuweid the invites were out and de Vreen and I had pretty much got the organisation under control. Well to be fair, apart from the invites there isn't much left to do, a trip to the supermarket for food supplies, one of the lads can sort the music, job done.

 
© Maddy Bell 14.07.2019

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

 
"So what are we gonna be eating at this soirrée?” my co conspirator asked.
"Well we could do the traditional cheese on sticks and sausage rolls,” I suggested.
"Two things no make that three,” Mand replied, "One, we want this to be cool and two, this is Germany, they don't do sausage rolls and three, we do actually want to speak to everyone afterwards.”
"I only said could,” I pointed out, "I wasn't suggesting that we should.”
"Okay Egon, what have you got in mind?”
"How about if I do a roastie with all the trimmings?”
"I thought you were going to say pizza.”
"Well its option B,” I smirked, "You could have one of those Tofu steak things.”
"Only if everyone else is having schweine, I could fancy some lamb.”
"What happened to being vegetarian?”
"I sort of lapsed over Christmas, gran doesn't get it so it was eat the turkey or starve.”
"That'll make cooking 'round here easier,” I noted.
"Doesn't mean I want to eat it all the time.”
"Like broccoli.”
"Huh?”
"Well I don't mind it occasionally but I don't want it every meal,” I told her.
"It does get a bit old,” Mand agreed.
 
"Well its novel, I'll say that,” Mum opined as we entered Lidl's car park.
"I think everyone's had their fill of finger food,” I pointed out.
"So Nigella, what meat are we having?” Mater enquired.
"Lamb?”
"Expensive and we might have to go to Hagen's, I doubt they'll have any joints in here.”

Well its not like the rest of the grub costs a lot, veggies are pretty cheap, especially if you keep to in season stuff.

By the time we left the store we had a full trolley, all the veg of course plus extra supplies of gravy stuff, mint sauce and other makings besides several litres of Eis to go with the dessert, a last minute decision as they had a stack of Rhubarb begging to become a crumble. The Saab's load space easily swallowed everything and with a wallet somewhat less bulgy we headed for our butcher back in Dernau.
 

"I'll have all that for you first thing,” Jurgen stated.
"Thanks, you're a life saver,” I told him.
"Well I try to please,” he replied with a grin.

And please he certainly does, his English style sausages are excellent, I think he gets ex-pats coming from near and far to buy them. Of course, I bought a kilo for tonights tea – well it'd be rude not to, right?

"See you in the morning, tschuss!”
"Tschuss,” he returned as I headed out to the waiting car.

"Sausages?” Mum queried.
"Tea tonight,” I informed her.
"What about your lamb?”
"He's getting it from the wholesaler in the morning along with some Nurnbergers and streaky bacon.”
"Go on, I know I'll regret asking, but why?”
"Pigs,” I announced strapping myself in.
 

"You got the booze?” I asked Dad when he appeared in the kitchen a while later.
"Yes, I got the drinks, forty litres of diet lemonade, that right?”
"Eh?”

Lemonade? Is that all we're getting?

"The look on your face kiddo, don't worry, I got a crate of Krombacher and a dozen bottles of the Sebenschuh's best red to have with the lamb.”
"How did..”
"I know? Your mother called me when you were in the butchers. So I guess you want some help with that sack of spuds eh?”
"Mand was supposed to be helping, where is she?”
"Last I saw she was hanging decorations in the lounge.”

Damn, I knew i'd forgotten something. And given her speed at potato peeling maybe thats the best place for her.

With Dad peeling taters and me attending to the rest of the veg it fell to Mum to cook our tea, sausage casserole, some purloined spuds for the mash and a Maggi® packet for the sauce.
 

"Everything set then?” Mum enquired as we tucked into our evening meal.
"Pretty much, everythings in water so tomorrow its just boiling stuff up.”
"What about the meat?” our lapsed vegetarian queried.
"I'll fetch it in the morning,” Dad volunteered.
"Thanks Daddy.”

Hey, I can lay it on thick just like the next girl.

I turned my attention to de Vreen, "How are the decorations going Mand?”
"Seems a bit weird putting stuff up after Christmas.”
"Does the twelfth night rule still apply do you think?” Dad mused.
"They're not Christmas decorations exactly so i'd say no,” Mum supplied.
"I haven't put any Santa's up,” Mand told us.
"So its just snowmen, reindeer and angels then.”
"I think thats quite fitting,” Mum suggested, "Angels for the Angels.”
"Just to be clear, we are not singing carols,” I stated.
Dad smirked, "And you sing them so well.”
"Sugar, music!”
"Don't worry,” Mand told me, "I spoke to Marty earlier, he'll bring his boom box down.”
"My stereo not good enough,” Dad huffed.
"Only if you can find some half decent vinyl,” I suggested with a poke of my tongue.
 

"Right you two,” Dad opened, "Whilst I'm fetching this sheep you two can go for a quick ride, its dry and sunny so no excuses.”
"But Dad...”
"Neither of you have hardly touched a bike since before Christmas.”
"What about Mum?”
"Your mother is going out with the others today.”
"We could go with them,” I hinted.
"Except someone decided to go overboard on the party food,” Mand sighed.
"Precisely,” Dad agreed, "I'm not asking you to go out for hours, say fifty K?”
I sighed, as much for the appearance of it as anything, “'kay.”
 
And so it came to pass, a little after nine the pair of us set off up the lane towards Rech.

"Geez, I feel like I'm riding through treacle,” Mand stated.
"Tell me about it.”
"We can't have lost all our fitness already.”
"I think i've put on some weight,” I allowed.
"So you weigh eleven kilos instead of ten,” Mand chortled.
"And you haven't put any on?”
"Never said that but there's more of me to start with and I don't obsess over it.”
"Neither do I.”
"She says, so go on, what gargantuan weight are you this morning?”
"Fifty two and a half.”
"Geez Gab, in my dreams.”
"So like how much are you?”
"Not that I check all the time,” she stated, "Fifty eight...ish?”
"Thats hardly a lot and you are bigger than me.”
"Yeah, I wouldn't want to be a shrimp like you anyway.”
"Why you...”
"Beat you to the crossing.”

And with that she sprinted away from me.
 

"Urgh, I'm pooped.”
"You didn't have to chase down that tractor,” my riding partner pointed out.
"But it was there.”

After the first few minutes, once we'd settled onto our steeds, we had a good ride, up to Adenau, over the hill to the upper Ahrtal then back down the valley. We use the same roads quite regularly, its not as intense as going up to the Ring or as exciting coming back down but for a fairly steady effort its top banana. After Mand set the tone with the crossing, we ended up sprinting for every name board along the way until the chase of that tractor coming down from Mayschoß.

"Looks like company,” de Vreen observed as we approached Schloss Bond.

Indeed there was a Ford Focus with foreign plates on parked on the road by the driveway.

"Wonder who it is?”
"Find out when we get in I guess,” Mand pointed out.
"Guess so.”

We freewheeled past the family's clutch of motorised transport stopping outside of the garage doors.

"I'll get it,” Mand offered as she swung her leg over the bars to dismount.

I grabbed her steed and she clacked over to open the door.

"Coffee?” I suggested as we put our bikes into the rack, no doubt Dad will do the ol' clean and lube later.
"Please, you showering upstairs?”
"Yeah.”
"I'll grab mine down here then.”
“'kay.” I agreed before heading up into the house.

"That you Gab?” Dad's voice queried from the living room.
"Uh huh,” I confirmed, "You want coffee?”
"In a minute, can you come through please.”
"Can I take a wee first, I'm bursting.”

I know, too much information.

"Might be best if you don't,” Pater suggested coming to the door, "There's someone here to see you.”

Of course from just wanting a post ride bladder empty I now needed to do the deed somewhat more urgently, nevertheless I carefully padded into the family room to meet this mystery visitor.
 
The chap, for it was a he, of I guess my parents vintage was already stood to greet me.

"Gab luv, this is Senor Bassi, from WADA, Senor, my daughter Gabrielle.”
"A pleasure to meet you Gabrielle,” he greeted offering a hand to shake.
"Erm, and you,” I limply shook his hand, "Is there anything wrong?”

For those of you not in the loop, WADA, the World Anti Doping Agency are the lot whose bungling resulted in my suspension last year, they do the drug testing for the UCI and oversee the national programmes. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for weeding out the cheats but maybe they should do a bit more checking before throwing accusations about.

"No, nothing wrong at all.” Bassi greasily replied with just a hint of Italian accenting his German.
"Senor Bassi is here to take some samples,” Dad advised.
"Here, at home?”
"We find it is better than dragging you off to a clinic, no?”
"But why, its not like I'm racing at the moment.”
"But the cheats, and I'm not suggesting you are one of course, they use the products not so much for the race but for the training,” Bassi explained, "So we do the testing out of competition to catch them before the racing.”
"Okay I get that but like I'm always getting tested at races.”
"Si,” he agreed, "Most of our testing away from competition is random, you don't have to be Championa du Monde to be selected, it could be anyone with the race licence but still, there is a cadre of elite athletes who we monitor more closely, as a double World Champion you are in that group, questions would be asked if we did not eh?”
"I guess, you should've let us know you were coming, we might've been out all day.”
"Ah, but the element of surprise is lost,” Senor Bassi grinned.
"So um, what do you need?”

So of course, after having a bladder ripe for bursting when I got home, when it came to filling the bottle, well you don't really want to know about all that. Eventually the man from WADA had his sample, Dad had the paperwork and I got to shower and change – well after the delayed cup of caffeine.
 
"Coulda done without that,” I suggested once I was cleaned up and back in the kitchen.
"He was waiting when I got back from Hagen's,” Dad advised.
"So where is it, the meat that is?”
"Keep your hair on kiddo, its still in the car, I'll go fetch it.”

Dad departed on his errand leaving me and Mand in the kitchen.

"So what am I doing?” de Vreen enquired.

What indeed? She can burn water! We all have our strengths, Mand's just aren't in the kitchen.

"Table?” I suggested.
"Phew, I thought you'd have me making gravy or something.”

Dad returned with a tray of meat, it really did look like half a sheep.

"Where do you want it?”
"Er, table please, there's a lot there.”
"There's going to be a lot of us,” Dad pointed out, "Jurgen says can he have the tray back when your done and he's put some liver and kidneys in , said you were looking a bit peaky yesterday.”
"Gott, even the butcher is keeping an eye on my health.”
"Don't knock it spud, you do realise that they're all very proud of you, one of their own, the Weltmeisterin.”

I've had similar conversations before, I go on about how I'm not even German really and Con / Mum / Dad etc tell me that where I come from isn't as important as where I belong and as far as the folk of the Ahrtal are concerned, that's right here in Dernau. To be truthful, its where I feel home is too, after all its where the family home is, my friends are here, I schooled here – well for a couple of years, I train here and I guess I do feel I belong. At one time, if asked, i'd say I was from Warsop but living here but now, well I'm Gaby Bond from Dernau, I was never really Drew after we moved here and the flipside is that most people in Warsop, if they even remember me, knew Drew not Gaby even if I did look like one of the girls half the time.

"Okay.”
"Well I need to pick some stuff up from Apollinaris so I'll leave you to your culinary endeavours.”

Cheers Dad.
 

I ordered neck from Jurgen, it tends to be quite lean with the added bonus of not being on the bone so its easy to prepare and theres no waste. I refrigerated the liver and kidneys then set about the meat, six generous pieces, its a good job we have the double oven! Once the meat was on its way I started on the rest, Pigs, stuffing, batter for the Yorkshires, yeah, this'll be one rockin' dinner!

"Something smells good,” Mand opined.
"I should hope so what it cost.”
"Price is no guarantee of quality,” she philosophised.
"True, but I have the skillz.”
"You do know that everyone will be round at yours to eat all the time?”
"Beans on toast,” I suggested as I checked on the latest batch of Yorkshire puddings.
"With your home made baked beans, yummy!”
"You changing? People will be arriving soon.”
”i guess, what about you?”
"I'll go once these puddings are done.”
 

"I know you said it was a sit down meal Jen but I was thinking, I dunno, Schnitzel or something not this feast,” Maria mentioned.
"Don't look at me, its my daughter's doing,”
"Talking of which, here is the cook, Frohes Neu Jahre Gaby.”
"And to you, Kat not here?”
"Powder room.”
"I'll catch her in a bit then.”

The Pingers weren't the first to arrive, that honour went to Bern and Marty sans daughter who was spending quality time with her Oma. The rest of the guests weren't tardy, if I say we're eating at six thats what I mean! Indeed, by five thirty everyone was in the house, the drinks flowing and speculation about the food rife. At ten to the kitchen alarm sounded, time to dish up!

I know there's a debate on the merits of serving food plated or at table but for todays menu, plated was the only sensible option. With Max and Mand's able assistance, we soon had food on the table. From experience, there was a lot of speculation as to what was on the plates.

"You can start,” I hinted delivering the last two plates to table.
"We were waiting for you,” Mum advised.
"I propose a toast,” Henryck Pinger started, "To our hosts the Bonds and especially to the chef, Gaby, prost!”

While I turned a delicate shade of chartreuse, there was a general raising of glasses and answering 'prost's.

"This pie thing looks very intriguing Gabs, so erm, what is it?” Nena asked.
"Its a sort of traditional way of serving food in northern England, everything is served up in the pudding, you can get more on the plate.”
"So this is the same as the small puddings we've had before?” Bridg suggested.
"Yep, just bigger, you can put anything inside really.”
"And what is inside today,” Maria asked, "It smells like lamb?”
"Rosemary lamb, veggies and taters, there's more if anyone wants it, mint sauce and gravy on the table.”
"Well don't let it get cold then,” Dad urged, "Can you pass me the mint sauce Max.”

"Think we'll do dessert a bit later,” Mum mentioned in my ear as she helped clear the main course debris.
"Er okay, its covered so it won't spoil.”
"That was very nice kiddo, pity that carvery place we went to with Gran couldn't do Yorkshires that well.”
"That'll be my secret ingredient.”
"Which is?”
"Wouldn't be secret if I told you would it?”
 
"Okay,” Mand announced a few minutes later, "I know its a bit late but welcome to two thousand and seven, lets get this party started!”

Mart started his mini disco up, the first few notes of The Beatles 'Help!', filled the house and the tone was set for the evening.

 
© Maddy Bell 16.07.2019

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

 
"Gab?”
"Hmm?” I mumbled back through Max's chest.
"You made any resolutions?”
I eased my head away from its comfy chest nest, "What like?”
"I dunno,” he gave a shrug, "Learn Chinese or something?”
"Yeah right,” I snorted as the slightly strained chords of a Hoff ballad faded away.
"You're good with languages,” Max pressed.
"I can get by in a couple,” I admitted, "That doesn't make me a disciple of Babel and why would I want to learn Chinese?”
"It was just an example.”
"The answer's no, so what about you, you made any resolutions you won't keep?”
"Apart from getting jiggy with you more often? Nah.”
"What do you mean, getting jiggy?”
"Er poor choice of words?”
"Hmmph!”

Well of course I know what he means but putting thought into words, with my parents in the same room – well it tends to put a dampener on things.
 

"Thanks for inviting us,” Bern told me when I joined her on the sofa, currently supplying seating in the hallway.
"Why wouldn't I?”
"Well I'm not one of your 'Angels', not really.”
"Bern,” I took her hands in mine, “ Bern, i've known you longer than anyone else here, we've been places, done stuff that none of the others have, we're mates right and mates invite their mates to their parties.”

Okay so it wasn't very eloquent, i've had a couple of drinks afterall but I think it got the message across.

"Even so, you're all students, studying for careers, me, well I'm a mother and de facto farmers wife.”
"Both very important jobs.”
"If you say so, you know what I mean though, I mucked my life up.”
"Doesn't make you a bad person.”
"Hmm, the jury is, as they say, out on that one.”
"Well I know you're not and that's enough in my book and I'm pretty sure the same goes for everyone else here.”
"Well thanks anyway Gabrielle Bond.”

The party though has been, on the Gaby scale, about eight out of ten, the music choice has been a bit lame and low volume but the company has been good and the food.if I say it myself, excellent. But of course, tomorrow people are back to college or work or training or whatever so about ten thirty it was coffee and the belated dessert – rhubarb crumble is great at any time, before bodies started making exit noises.
 

"I'd best be off,” Max mumbled into my hair.
"But its only,” I checked my watch, "Half to twelve, sugar, I need to sort my notes out for tomorrow.”
"Bye then,” he broke his embrace and turned as if to leave.
"Not so damn quick buster,” I shot back, grabbing him and pulling him back, "Just five minutes?”
 

"We've got the permit,” Con beamed, waving something in the air.
"Permit?”
"Duh, for Brain of Deutchland you can be a right ditz,” by BFF opined, "For the concert? At the Kabin?”
"We need a permit for that?”
"Duh, Germany, you need a permit for everything,” she pointed out.
"So we've got the permit, coffee?”

These things seem to creep up on you, was it really only two weeks away? I guess so, which is why i've been summoned, screaming and yelling to the Thesing's apartment tonight. Okay, maybe thats overdramatising things but Con's text this morning was pretty insistent on my attendance and consumption of dinner.

The girl doth protest too much, this time last year i'd be here pretty much anytime I wasn't either on the bike or at school, things have changed and whilst our friendship has never faltered, having BFF time has become a rare commodity. Anyhow, Frau T supplied a wholesome meal, chicken and mushroom tagliatelle in a white sauce and once the table was cleared Mr T retrieved a folder and some stationery and opened our little 'management' meeting.

"Right ladies, so we've got the entertainment permit but there are some conditions.”
"What sort of conditions?”
"We can only have the music for sixty minutes,” Thesing senior advised, between thirteen and fourteen.”
"That shouldn't be a problem, the set's only forty five,” I told the gathering.
"What about encores and stuff,” Con queried.
"The licence is very strict, no run overs permitted.”
"I guess we need to make sure we start on time then,” I allowed, "What else?”
"Well we need to sort out insurance,” he started ticking off on his fingers, "Security, medical cover plus of course fencing, the stage, get fliers and tickets printed.”

The original idea had been simple but I guess as soon as you need a 'permit', that simple idea becomes a monster of organisation and funds.

"That all sounds expensive, can we afford it?” I used 'we' as I'm still nominally a partner in the Kabin alongside the Thesings even if my hands on participation has been reduced since I started college.
"Some of this stuff doesn't come cheap,” Con's dad confirmed.
"Maybe we should cancel,” Con suggested.
"Stop winding the girls up Thomas,” his wife instructed, "Don't listen to him. We get 'mates rates' on the printing and the Lions will do the security and the stage stuff, Roman Meissinger has volunteered to be the MC if you want him too.”
Herr Thesing pretended to pout, "Spoilsport Therese. So are your guys all fixed Gaby, no point sorting everything if they aren't going to turn up.”
"They'll turn up, I think they're looking forward to it.”
"Well I'll leave that side to you then Gaby.”
"What am I doing?” Con enquired.
"You, daughter mine,” her mum started, "Are in charge of the catering.”
"I thought you and daddy would be doing that.”
"Oh no, this is you girls event, we'll help but you pair are in charge.”

Well thats told us.

"I'll be helping Con.”
"That's what I'm afraid of.”
"Hey!”
"Play nicely girls,” Mr T told us.
 

"Are you going to Garde tomorrow,” Mum asked when I got home.
"Probably, why?”
"Just sorting out tommorow night's dinner.”
"We usually have pizza afterwards,” I pointed out.
"Not this week,” Mum told me.
"Health drive,” Mand suggested from across the lounge, never moving her attention from whatever dross was on the box.
"No pizza?”
"It won't hurt you to eat a bit healthier kiddo,” Dad volunteered.
"But I like pizza,” I groaned.
"I like fresh salmon, doesn't mean I have to eat it three times a week,” Mater pointed out.
"So what're we having instead?”
"A stir fry.”
"Doesn't sound very healthy to me.”
"Fresh vegetables, lean meat, Mand, you can have tofu.”
"Yeuk!” I interrupted.
"Like it or lump it, its only one meal,” Mum pointed out.
"For now,” Dad added soto voce.
 

"Pfennig for 'em?” Max proposed joining me on the wall opposite CundA.
"Hmm?”
"You were miles away, something serious?”
"Not really, well sort of, thinking about what to wear for the Kabin gig.”
"You could wear that outfit you wore in Bonn,” he suggested.
"Ut uh, not happening.”
"Why not, you look well sexy in it.”
"So that's number one, number two, we'll be outside in the middle of January, not warm.”
"If you got cold I could warm you up,” he proposed.
"Much as that sounds quite interesting its not gonna happen.”

His eyes wandered from looking at me to something or someone behind me, you know you don't want to but you can't help yourself, yep I nonchalantly turned my head just enough to see what he was looking at. Hmm, interesting.

"Heya,” Max offered.
"Guys,” Freddy returned, "Roman just messaged me, the Rheintal and everything on this side is suspended at the moment, something about an incident at Brohl.”
"Damn!” Max cursed.

Freddie's arrival wasn't what had caught my attention though but rather a girl, woman, I dunno, wearing an ensemble that might work for the concert, some sort of long knitted coat over a calf length skirt and boots. Well I can play with the elements a bit, dress it up with a scarf, yeah I reckon that'll work.

"Gab, you listening?” Max's voice cut into my musings, "Fred says he's waiting for Olaf, you okay with that?”
"Eh?”
"Getting back to Dernau? We can wait and go with Olaf, he'll be done about five.”

I did the calculations, forty minutes drive, get changed, eat rabbit food, I'll be late for Garde and given its only just turned two that's three hours to kill. I could ring for a parent taxi but best case scenario would be an hours wait plus a loss of Brownie points.

"Fancy hanging at the Spielhaus?” Freddie suggested.
"Sounds like a plan,”Max agreed.
"Really?” I stated.

So I'll admit it, back when the Bond clan lived in Warsop, there was nothing as good as a session on the games console with Rhod while the girls did there thang. But things have changed, I'm a nearly seventeen year old woman for a start, not a thirteen year old who thinks she's a boy. If this pair think I'm wasting two or three hours watching them play Formula One or something equally loud and pointless surrounded by more of Koblenz' nerdy youth – well not happening with this Madchen.

"I er need to buy a new BH,” I suggested, there you go, an alternative if Max wants to do sexy things with me.
Instead of which, "You can meet us later then, get a coffee,” the lummox proposed.
"Whatever,” I sighed.
"Come on man,” Freddie chivvied, "Rome and Marcus are holding a console for us.”
Max slipped off his perch, gave me a quick peck on the cheek and with a 'see ya later Babe', was gone.

Babe? I'll give him Babe! So what to do for three hours? Well I really could do with a new bra or two, that was no lie, and I guess I could look in the model car shop.
 

As I was already outside C&A I headed inside to look at lingerie. I'll admit that I do have some expensive and er, sexy undies but the stuff doesn't 'excite' me, I need to wear knickers and unless I want to be uncomfortable and have saggy boobies, I need to wear a bra of some sort. Yeah, its function over fancy for this girl.

Of course, buying a BH isn't as simple as pants or even shoes, the options are mind boggling, balcony, underwired, padded, demi cup, strapless, uplift, plain, lacy, racy – that's before you even get to sizing. Geez, sizing, another minefield, its not like you get a size and that's it, I swear that i've bought a different size every time i've bought new. Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration but i've certainly got several sizes in my BH draw depending on brand, type and time of the month.

I surveyed the wall of support with resignation, I'm sure if men had to wear them it would be much simpler. Of course, the plain moulded cup t-shirt bra's that I was after weren't on the wall, they were on a seperate stand, but eventually I found what I was looking for, plain, practical and, in the world of support lingerie, fairly cheap.

"Can I help at all?”

Damn, every shoppers nightmare, a 'helpful' sales assistant.

"Er, have you got these in a ninety B cup?” I asked pointing at the rack.
"We should have, have you been measured recently?”
"Erm...”
"I'll take that as a no then, its very important, especially for young women, to have properly fitting Bustenhalters.”
"Um, yeah,” I sort of agreed.
"Do you always wear this style?”

Damn, she's put me in a corner, there'll be no escape!

"Usually or sports bras,” I admitted.
"I thought as much,” my assailant beamed.
"You can tell?”

Well I couldn't help myself.

"Its my job, your posture is not so good, we should get you sized up, you don't want to be all saggy eh?”
"Er no, I guess.”

The nett result was that I found myself stripped to the waist in a cubicle with Anne Marie, my fitter, who took far more measurements than you'd believe possible just to get my 'correct' bra size. If I had thought that I was getting away that easily, I was mistaken, once my correct band and cup size were determined she then had me trying different styles and even sizes so I could see the fit. What had started out as a quick grab and run ended three quarters of an hour later with me leaving the store in a daze and very conscious of my girls looking decidedly perky on my chest.
 

Having spent my 'allowance' in support of my breasts, I decided to give the model shop a miss but I still headed that general direction, just to kill some time. Okay, so the draw was Maccy D's at the bahnhof, if Mum's serving rabbit food tonight, I'm having a burger now or I'll fade away! Besides, it'll kill a bit of time.

Of course, with the Rheintal Express suspended the station was quite busy, the Deutsche Bahn staff doing their best to help stranded travellers. I got my Bacon Cheeseburger Menu and headed towards the platforms to eat it as the construction work outside didn't appeal as a burger eating view. I trotted up onto Gleis Ein which apart from a handwritten notice on one of those A frame thingies, was pretty much desserted.

Well curiosity got the better of me so I had to take a look. I read the notice, I checked my watch, I did the sums then legged it along the platform towards Gleis 104. Apparently, as the line through Brohl would be closed for the rest of the day they were suggesting passengers travel up on the east bank of the river and cross by ferry to their respective destinations.
 

The 14.40 RE8 was of course pretty much packed but I found a little corner on the between floors landing, big enough for me to perch at least. Having only just reached the train before it was due out it then sat for another five minutes before the view beyond the windows started to change and we departed south from the station.

I had a brief moment of panic before remembering that the Rhein bridge is below Koblenz, seems a bit strange to go south for north but after a slow trundle out of the station yards we picked up some speed and were soon crossing Old Father Rhein before beginning our journey north. When I started eating my burger meal I got some looks from other travellers, envy and disdain chief amongst them – strictly speaking you aren't supposed to eat hot food on the Zug but in my defence, the food smelt hotter than its luke warm condition. Being on the wrong side of the carriage meant my view was not very inspiring, a series of walls and cuttings so I concentrated on the job in hand.

It was only when we were pulling out of Neuwied station that my rendezvous with Max and Freddy was now moot. I located my Handy and started tabbing out a message;

'on wy hm, spk ltr, G'

There, that should do it, I hit send then retrieved my Sprite®.
 

Forty minutes after leaving Koblenz I was climbing down from the train at Linz, fortunately the ferry across to my side of the river is only a short walk away, with any luck I can get the four o'clock Ahrtal Express. Usually of course I'm on the bike when I do this crossing, it never seems far along the riverside from Kripp to the Bridge but walking seemed to take an age – well it is a couple of kilometres. Eventually, a little foot sore, I reached Remagen Bf, the Express was still there but it was going to be tight.

After a run through the tunnel, a cartoon turn at the bottom of the platform steps and a sprint across to the train, I squeezed through the doors just as they were closing. I spotted a vacant seat by the toilet compartment and gratefully slumped into it.

"You look tired,” Myleen observed when she appeared checking tickets.
I let out a deep breath, "Its further from the ferry to Remagen than you'd think.”
"You've come up on the other bank?”
"Well it was either that or not get home until well late.”
"You should have caught the bus.”
"Buses are for wimps,” I blustered – why didn't I think of that? "So what's up at Brohl? They were just saying an incident at Koblenz.”
"You know the new road bridge they are building down there?”
"Instead of the crossing near the Dampfbahn?”
"Thats it, well there was some sort of collapse, the line is damaged so once its cleared they have to lay new rails.”
"At least it wasn't another jumper,” I allowed.

It was nearly quarter to five when I let myself into Bond Chateaux, okay its not a lot earlier than waiting for Olaf but I have at least got time to shower and grab a coffee before dinner and setting off for Garde.

 
© Maddy Bell 18.07.2019

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

 
Saturday morning and after several pleasant if grey days that were at least dry, the bit of drizzle that started while I was at Garde has developed into an insistent if not hard downpour that looks set to hang around, according to RTL, until 'late' afternoon. Mand's off to the velodrome with Dad, I guess I could've gone along but to be honest, riding around in small circles all day has never been my favourite pastime even if i've had a little success in the past. No for me its the open road or possibly field that sparks my enthusiasm and this weather puts the kibosh on any real outside activity.

"What're you up to today kiddo?” Mater enquired when I slipped into the kitchen for Frühstuck.
"Not sure,” I admitted, "I was gonna go for a longish ride but I'm not riding in this.”
"Nor should you, you could come to the gym with me?”

I selected the least stale of the brötchen that were left and set about making a sandwich.

"Think I'll pass.”
"You really should do some cross training Gab.”
"Doesn't Cheer and Garde count?”
"You can't quantify what you're doing with that stuff.”

I slathered the two sides of the roll with butter and started to load it up.

"Do you need to? I mean, I know i've been stretching and stuff afterwards, I can feel the burn.”
"So what are you going to do then?”
"Turbo I guess,” I concluded adding a slice of tomato to the stack of meat and cheese.
"Well don't go silly with it.”
"I won't.”

To be honest, a turbo session, at least a long turbo session ranks somewhere between listening to Bing Crosby and plucking my eyebrows and only just above the velodrome. But I do need to do some riding and given the weather, well its the lesser evil. I took my time over breakfast but there's no point in putting it off, sooner or later it has to be done and sooner means I can do other stuff, the Kabin might be closed most of the time at the moment but I did promise the Thesing's i'd catch up on the paperwork.
 

My 'turbo bike' was already set up so once I was dressed in bra and bibshorts I put the radio on high volume, draped a towel over the bars and set to. Today should've been an endurance ride so rather than notch up to a frenetic pace and start an intense workout, I dialled it back a bit, setting a steady tempo effort on a low resistance. The Oma music, if I follow the tempo, simulates the vagaries of a road ride and reduces the boredom a bit, even so, after thirty minutes I was getting a bit cheesed off with the incessant humm and the by now, near constant trickle of sweat rolling between my breasts.

The second half of the hour long session was tedious to say the least, I found myself easing off as I searched the basement for inspiration. No good, no good at all and i've got some cyclo cross lined up with Anita in a couple of weeks. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and sort of got back into the zone, even stepping my effort up over the last few minutes.

I clambered off on jellied legs needing the loo and almost took my eye out by walking into a hanging bike. Not just any bike but the Deco bike that i've got on loan from the German Federation, the machine I'm supposed to be using to hone some control skills. I suppose it wouldn't hurt, but first the loo.
 

The garage is quite high and I'm not exactly tall which means that unless I try jumping up, there's height enough to stand atop the weird bike. I cleared the middle of the floor, one thing you do need is open space, then ran upstairs to change into some more appropriate and warmer kit. Suitably attired in the stuff I use for cheer practice I returned to the bike lair, got the bike down off its hook and got started.

Or rather didn't. My head knew what to do but convincing arms and legs to comply was another thing. After falling off for a fourth time I decided to go back to the very basics we'd been shown at the taster session. I guess if you do it regularly enough it becomes second nature, i've not exactly been clamouring to master the arts of bike gymnastics so its hardly a surprise I'm back at square one.

I started on the exercises as best as I could remember them and fifteen minutes later I wasn't falling off and indeed i'd got the bike circling the really too small space that I had clear. Confidence bolstered, I moved on to going backwards, sitting on the handlebar and in a rash moment, standing on the bars which lasted about two seconds before I had to bale!

I remember watching Hooch and his mates at the skatepark when I was on the exchange trip, they were pretty good with the tricks and a lot of what I was trying to do is the same stuff just on a much bigger bike. Bigger means further from the floor and when you're a short arse like I am, well its a definate incentive not to fall off. I won't say it was pretty but I worked out a sort of mini routine which linked a few moves together and on the fourth attempt I actually got through the bike rotate and step off without ending up under the bike!

When I heard a car outside and checked the clock it was after twelve, i'd been farting around for nearly two hours.

"Hello, you down there kiddo?” Mum enquired from above.
"Yep,” I confirmed as I executed what, in my mind was an elegant dismount but in the real world was a rather inelegant affair just short of disaster.
I was still unwrapping myself when Mum arrived in the bike cave, "What are you up to?”
"Thought i'd try the Deco bike thing.”
"Sooner you than me,” she allowed watching as I disentangled myself, "You been doing that all morning?”
"Pretty much, since I finished on the turbo anyhow.”
"Well just be careful, we don't want any more broken bones.”
"Wasn't planning on any.”
"We never do,” Mum pointed out, "Well I'm gonna make a brew if you're interested?”
"Sure,” I enthused, "Just need to sort this stuff out, I'll be about...”
"Five minutes,” she finished for me.
 

"Poached egg on toast?” Mater enquired when I arrived in the kitchen.
"Er sure, the tea mashing?”
"In the pot, I was just about to sort out the crockery.”
"I'll do it,” I volunteered – well I'm being fed so fair's fair.

"So you think the trick cycling is useful?”
"Well its more fun than reps in the gym,” I told her.
"I'll agree that gym work is low on my fun list.”
I shovelled, I mean daintily placed another fork full of egg and bread into my mouth before continuing, "Its good for balance.”
"Well I don't think I'll be trying it at my time of life,” Mater opined.
"I bet you could,” I challenged.
"I'm not saying I couldn't but I prefer to be in firmer contact with the ground.”
 

Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng.

"Manda, Gaby, can one of you get that please?” Dad suggested when the house phone started to ring after dinner – chicken stew tonight.

Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng.

"Gaby?”
"Okay, I'm going,” I groaned in reply as I dried my hands.

Brnng Brng, Brnng Brng.

"Abend, Bond residenz, Gaby sprechen,” I offered down the line.
"Hi Gaby, is your Dad there, or your Mum?”

I recognised the voice straight away, the slight West Country lilt of Gramps Bond.

"Hi Gramps, thanks for the Christmas money.”
"My pleasure Munchkin, is Mum or Dad there?”
"Er sure, I'll shout Dad.,” I cover the mouthpiece and gave a summoning yell, "Da-ad, its Gramps.”
"Coming,” he replied from somewhere inside the family room.
"He's coming Gramps, so how's Burnham today? Its been lagging it down here.”
"Don't think its rained, i've been inside most of the day.”
I felt a hand on my shoulder, "Dad's here, love to Nanna, bye Gramps.”
"Bye Gaby,” he told me before I passed the phone to Dad.

"What did your Grandfather want?” Mum asked when I returned to the kitchen where she was loading the dishwasher.
"Didn't say.”
"Well you'll never make a detective,” she suggested.

Its impolite to listen in other peoples phone calls, not that I'm immune to a bit of eavesdropping but after the initial exchange of greetings, Dad's voice had lowered so whilst we could hear that he was talking, what it was about remained a mystery.
 

The German edition of 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire', Wer wird Millionär? Was in full swing on the goggle box before Dad joined the rest of us in the lounge. Not that I'm a fan you understand but the alternative was a badly dubbed edition of 'The Bill' which we all mutually detest.

"Everything okay Luv?” Mum enquired.
Dad answered as he sat himself down, "Not really, they've got Mum in Weston General again.”
"The same thing?” Mum queried.

What 'same' thing? I know Nanna has had a couple of 'funny turns' but no one has ever said precisely what the issue is.

"Dad thinks so, they were in Sainsbury's this time.”
"Do we need to go over?” Mum quizzed.
"Dad says not to, they won't have the test results until tomorrow and Kath's gonna stay over,” Dad advised.
"We should be prepared, I'll check on flights,” Mum stated.
"There might be something to Bristol,” Dad suggested.
"What's wrong with Nanna?” I asked.

My parents exchanged one of those 'should we tell her' looks.

"I'm not a baby,” I pointed out.
Dad gave a sigh, "Your Nan's got a bad chest kiddo.”
"Asthma right, i've seen her puffer thing.”
"Its a bit more than just asthma kiddo, she's got Ventrical and Pulmonary dementia, she gets a bit short of breath and this time of year with colds and viruses going round, well it doesn't help.”
"She's going to be alright though?”

Look, I know she's a bit of a Hyacinth Bucket with all her airs and graces but she's still my Nanna.

There was another one of those looks between the Olds, "They haven't got her in the ICU so thats a good thing,” Dad suggested.

Even I could tell it was a hedged reply and talk of flying over to England, well it doesn't bode well does it.

"I'll check those flights,” Mum told us.
 

Of course, come bedtime, after an evening of parental phone calls and for me, half understood statements of facts, whilst tired, I couldn't get to sleep. Earlier advice 'not to worry' from my parents of course had the opposite effect, all I could think about was Nanna. My head went through all sorts of scenarios before moving on to death and funerals – not even Nanna's even, just a bizarre collage of scenes subconsciously plucked from TV and film, at one point I was stood at a funeral service in my Weltmeisterin skinsuit waiting for a vampire to rise which I then staked – I know, go figure, too much Buffy I guess.

Death, whilst never very far away from any of us, is something that has rarely touched my life. I never knew Grandpa Peters though I have seen photos of him of course, Claudia's passing is the only person i've actually known who's died. Even then I was remote from things and we were in Japan when they had the funeral, yep, my experience of death and mortality is pretty much all secondhand or fictional.
 

"The stage will be over there,” Herr Thesing told us, motioning with his arm.
"What about the tables and chairs?” I queried.
"We'll put the tables in the bin store and stack the chairs behind the Kabin, we can get them out after your concert if we need to.”
"I can't believe this is really happening,” Con stated.

The full Kabin management, well minus Frau Thesing who's running the Backerie today, are up in Altenahr making sure everything is set for our debut concert. By next weekend there'll be a higher fence, the stage, a portaloo and apparently some sort of lighting rig covering our tiny domain.

"The posters are brill, very professional,” I enthused.
"Well lets hope they work,” Herr T mused.
"Dad, with the Pink Pixie on them, we'll be fighting people off!” Con stated.
"Pink Pixie? You can go off people,” I huffed.
"Well you have to admit Gabs, your hair does look really pink on there.”
"It was the lighting,” I suggested.

Will I ever live that pink hair down? Its what, seven months ago now and there's still a pinkish tinge to my Barnet although my natural blonde now lessens the impact somewhat.

"So you gonna wow us with some fancy stage costume?” my BFF queried as we drove back down to Dernau.
"Don't know about fancy.”
"But you have got an outfit right?” she pressed.
"I thought i'd wear jeans and my Kabin shirt.”
"Seriously?” Thesing gasped.
"Geez Con, what do you take me for? Course i've got an outfit.”
"So?”
"Ut uh, not telling.”
"Spoilsport,” she pouted.
"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you.”
Con grunted, "Guess I can wait.”
 

"There's a message on the pad Gab,” Mand told me when I got back home.
“'kay.”I finished de-wintering then picked up the phone pad.

'ring Stefan about next week'

Short, sweet and not very enlightening.

"Did he say what?”
"Something about the set?” de Vreen apparently guessed.

Now what?

"Stefan, its Gaby, you left a message?”

Call me paranoid but I retreated to my eyrie before ringing the BlauHase frontman.

"Erdbeer, how's the voice?”
"Fair to middling.”
"Excellent.”
"Mand said something about next week's set?” I prompted.
"How do you feel about doing a couple of new numbers?”
"I'm not doing Slayer,” I stated firmly.
"Yeah, I think that might be a bit of a stretch, thought we might do 'We are the Champions' and there's a new one me and the boys have been working on.”
"Nothing raspy?”
"Not raspy,” Stefan confirmed, "So?”
"I can give the#m a go.”
"Great,” he enthused, "I'll email you the files and the lyrics this afternoon.”
"Okay.”
"Have a listen, give me a call later yeah?”
"Sure, tschussie.”
"Later.”

Great, so with a week before the gig i've got two new songs to learn, well one and a bit, I do sort of know the Queen lyrics, WATC is on my internal training playlist. But what's this new Blauhase number gonna be like?
 

“....I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
I thank you all

But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure cruise
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
And I ain't gonna lose

We are the champions, my friends...”1

"Gab,” Mand called up the stairs to Camp Gabrielle, "Put a sock in it!”
I hit mute on the music player, "What?”
"Can you keep it down a bit, I'm trying to read.”
"I was practising for next week.”
"Sounded like a sack of cats,” she taunted.
"Huh! I'm an artiste.”
"If you say so, can you at least not have it at eleven?”

Okay, maybe warbling away at top volume is a bit unnecesary, I'm only learning the proper lyrics after all. Now tomorrow its the new BlauHase number, not sure how that's gonna go – the file Stefan sent over sounds sort of okay but the lyrics don't make a lot of sense. Oh well, tomorrow.

"I'll keep it down,” I promised.
"When the Queen of Rock has done,” Mums voice joined the fray, "Dinner'll be ready in about ten minutes.”
“'kay!”

Time for another run through, I reset the player and hit the go button.

"I've paid my dues
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through

We are the champions, my friends
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end
We are the champions
We are the champions
No time for losers
'Cause we are the champions of the world....”

 
© Maddy Bell 20.07.2019

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

 
Of course January is the middle of winter, a time of cold, damp weather interspersed with cold dry days and after having the former over the weekend, we've fallen for the latter today. Not that I'll see much of it, it was still dark when Olaf picked me up and by the time I get home it'll have returned to a similar state.

And so I found myself nibbling at my lunch in Lisbet Olafsdottir's office, well thanks to me she has the best coffee in the building.

"So, Gabrielle Bond, how is your little concert season coming along?”
"How'd you know about that?” I quizzed my tutor.
"Apart from you waxing lyrical about it before Weihnachts?” Lisbet mentioned.

Well duh, of course she knows, I did ask her what she thought of the idea.

"Oh right, I forgot that we talked about it.”
"Busy mind,” she suggested.
"Lot going on,” I confirmed.
"Sounds intrigueing.”
"Well..” so okay I didn't need too much encouragement to open up to her about the complicated life that I have.
 
There was the whole Christmas trip to England of course, the Jules being pregnant thing which segued into New Year and eventually to the answer to her original query.

"No one would believe all this if I told them,” Lisbet opined.
"You do though?”
"Gaby, I think I know you well enough now to spot if you were making anything up.”
"I'm that transparent?”
"Well lets just say i'd know and leave it at that. So you are busy learning new songs?”
"Only a couple,” I allowed with a sigh, "But I guess its for a good cause.”
"Is there anything you can't do?”
"I'm sure there's something,” I giggled.
"So how would one get tickets for this concert?”
"From the bakery and the florist in Altenahr,” then the penny dropped, "You're a Blauhase fan? i can bring you some tomorrow?”
"I wasn't very subtle with the hints was I? Well maybe I'll be a 'fan' but mostly I want to support my best student.”
I started to blush, "Erm.”
"Gaby, you really stuggle with compliments don't you?”
"Maybe, a bit, so um, two tickets enough?”
"Two will be fine thank you, I'll pay for them of course.”
"We can sort that tomorrow.”
"Don't forget.”
 

"Two competitions?” I prompted.
"I think its time we stepped things up,” Han replied.

To be fair, the girls have been working really hard this winter and having something to aim for will help keep that impetus.

"So when exactly are we talking?”
"They're months away yet.”
"Which soon become weeks and then days,” I pointed out.
"Just before Easter then sometime in May,” she advised.
"Hmm, so we need a new routine you think?”
"You're in charge of the All Stars Gab, I'm just a lackey.”
I did an eye roll, "Yeah, if lackey's take practice, ferry us about and liase with the Tanzklub committee.”
"Its what we lackeys do,” she grinned.
"I'll have a think.”
"Excellent, we should get them started.”

And so our first Cheer practice of the New Year got underway.
 

By contrast, the rest of the week was dull with a capital D. get up, go to college, come home from college, practice the new songs, bike training, keeping up with my friends, do coursework, sleep and repeat. What with one thing and another, my Max time was restricted to our joint morning commutes which meant I was getting a distinct case of lip withdrawal by the time the weekend arrived.

And so the week continued, just a normal week for an ordinary girl.

I forgot to mention Nanna. After Gramps call at the weekend everyone was worried of course, the airwaves between the Rheinland and Somerset were buzzing. But the news was good, Nanna was responding well to treatment and on Tuesday she was well enough to go home, albeit with instructions to not exert herself.

A weight was lifted and the tension that had been hovering over the household reduced to Defcon four. Auntie Kath and Auntie Jill were going to take turns visiting to make sure Nanna was actually following doctor's orders so the need for any of us to go to Blighty at the moment was past. Obviously there's no cure as such but we should have Nanna about for a while longer.
 

"Gott, I need this,” I sighed as Mand and I started the climb over towards Bad Münstereifel.
"Me too, schools been a right drag this week.”

I flicked the gears down another sprocket, neither of us being in the mood for bike warfare this morning.

"So what do you think to the Cheer competitions?”
"Think?”
"About being in the 'A' squad?”
"Doesn't that depend on the race calendar?”
"There's only a couple of Chippers that weekend before Easter, I already asked Dad, he's okay for you, us, to miss the Saturday.”
"Well if Boss man says its okay I guess I'm in.”
"Great, Susan's improved a lot but i'd prefer to have you in P one.”
 

Its not a steep climb, a bit draggy in places but nothing that required further chain movement until we rolled over the top for the drop past Effelsburg, the telescope just visible through the bare trees. The pair of us continued to tap along in companionable silence, content to just be riding. We were debating whether to take the fifty one and a longer loop through Adenau or just dropping down tto Insul when we were hailed by a familiar voice.

"Bond!”
"Hen,” I called across the junction to where he was stood with some of his Ahrtal Wielersport team mates.

I flicked a signal to my Lieutenant and we looped across to them.

"Where you off to girls?”
"We were thinking Blankenheim Adenau,” I advised.
"Brilliant minds,” one of his companions, Erik I think, stated.
"You guys are going that way?”
"Thats the plan, Simon just had an Unplatt,” Hen told us.
"Ready,” said individual mentioned.
"Fancy some company?” I suggested.
"We're only going steady,” Hen told us.
"We're not exactly ripping the tarmac,” Mand told the clubmen.
"Well in that case, sure thing if the Weltmeisterin can stand being seen with us mere mortals.”
"Oo, I think I can manage.”

And so we slipped into the Wielersport peloton as it set off to transit Münstereifel, that sounds more impressive than it is, there were only nine of them after all. I've got lost trying to negotiate the way through the old town so I was more than happy to follow our new companions through the maze finally popping out through the Orcheimer Tor to then join the Fifty One. The day was fairly bright, the wind light, what finer conditions could there be for being dragged through the German countryside.

Its been a while since i've ridden with more than a couple of others on the road but it didn't take long to pick up on individuals riding quirks, the subtle 'tells' that warn of hazards or even just gear changes. We really had just been cruising along before we met them, barely troubling twenty five K but these guys, well we were purring along comfortably on the top side of thirty. Was this their gentlle pace or were they putting on a show for my benefit?

Whichever it was, everyone looked comfortable and being in a group meant us goils weren't putting out much extra effort for the extra velocity, if any. Of course, I sort of know must of them on a basic level having crossed wheels at different times, supplied catering at the Kabin or like Jasper, he's our butcher! They were running a long rotation, pairs taking anything up to a few kilometres on the front before slipping back to sit in.

Its not a bad road, the only real climb is out of Holzmülheim, a loopy, draggy affair which broke our rhythm a bit as climbing styles and prowess vary but by the top no one was more than a few lengths behind. There had been a bit of shuffling of course, i'd moved up as Jasper slipped back which put me alongside Hen on the front of our group.

"Training going okay?”
"So so,” I allowed, "Got some 'cross from next week, hone the race muscles.”
"I've had a couple of goes, never ends well,” Hen admitted.
"I'm not that good, its just a bit of fun.”
My companion snorted, "Your not good would be anyone elses best effort.”
"Don't be daft.”
"So Wundermädchen, how many have you won?”
"I haven't....” I started, but of course I have, back in England before all this, "A couple of Kinder races.”
"See, mere mortals would be shouting from the treetops.”
"What about you? Racing this year?”
He rocked his right hand a bit, "Maybe, maybe not, the Missus is due in April so I probably won't have the chance.”
"But family comes first right? Do you know what it is?”
"We think a baby,” he chuckled.

Duh!

"You know what I mean, boy or girl?”
"Boy, at least its only one, Paula's sister has two sets of twins.”
"Better let my sister talk to her, she's expecting twins now.”

Our conversation ended as we entered Tondorf, with our odd number I found myself alongside the earlier puncture victim, Simon.
 

We picked up the two five eight which follows the upper Ahrtal for a bit before crawling out of the main valley at Müsch and over the top to Adenau. To be honest i'd forgotten how much fun this sort of ride can be, even when I do get to do group rides theres a training agenda thrown in. With the Wielersport lads, its just been social – well except for the Blankenheim sprint which I didn't contest, Mand did but I'm pretty sure she eased off to give Erik the 'win'.

It didn't even click with me that we turned right rather than left when we reached Adenau, I was extolling the virtues of my Campagnolo gears to Ludo, my current riding partner.

"Easy!” someone called from the front.

I looked past those in front to see them turning into the square. Oh well, in for a pfennig.

"We would've stopped at your kiosk...” Hen offered as we came to a halt outside of Linda, a snack cum coffee bar i've used on infrequent trips up here.
"But we've been closed,” I finished for him.
"Not permanently I hope?”
"No, in fact we'll be open tomorrow, we've got a charity concert thing and then we'll be open weekends again from the following week.”
"Concert?”
"In aid of the Kinderhaus, we've got BlauHase playing tomorrow.”
"Wait, I think I saw some posters on the way up the valley this morning.”
"I hope so, we'll look a bit silly if no one comes,” I chuckled adding my Pinarello to the stack of bikes.

In truth, I know its a sell out, well our capacity is only a hundred so its no great shakes but even so.

They'd got the chairs out so with almost a dozen of us we commandeered a couple of tables to enjoy the weak sun even if it was a bit parky. If you've ever done a 'social' ride with cycling enthusiasts you'll know theres no such thing as a quick coffee stop, we'll talk throughout the ride and then remove a donkey's rear legs when we stop! And everyone will get involved, from the elder statesmen to the Weltmeisterin, no one is too grand or unimportant to be part of the gestalt.

Eventually though, murmurs of 'orders' started circulating, Simon set off on his own and shortly thereafter the rest of us departed Marktplatz to start the last leg of the ride. There was more banter now, ribald comments called up and down the train, several of which had me blushing. But these guys are like an extended family, nothing is meant by it and its taken in good humour – you wouldn't last long if you hurt easily.

We started to shed riders in Altenahr as people headed for their homes, to resume the 'normal' side of their existence. There were still six of us when we reached Dernau, Mand and I usually cut off down Zaungartenstrasse but instead we went up to the Esch turn before leaving the others.
 
"Good ride,” de Vreen mentioned as we rolled the last few metres to the Chateaux Bond.
"Yeah,” I agreed, "Well pukka!”
 
© Maddy Bell 22.07.2019

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

 
We were using the Apollinaris Ezyup erected over on the bahnhof car park as a sort of 'green room', just as well the way the wind was blowing about.

"Nearly time, everyone okay?” Stefan asked.

I added my own nodding head to the others affirmative grunts. I suppose 'ready' is a vague enough notion, whether its singing, racing or doing an exam I certainly always have a nag in my head that I could've done more. That said, you can only do so much, and one abbreviated run through todays set, we only actually sang the new additions, would have to suffice.

Dad poked his head into the mobile gazebo, "Time.”
"Right, lets do it,” Stefan enthused leading the way.

The others followed leaving yours truly as Lily last.

"You okay kiddo,” Dad asked, "You look a bit on edge.”
"A few butterflies,” I allowed as he sealed up the tent.
"I'm sure you'll be fine, its not like you haven't done it before is it?”

Yeah, this is so like the Rheinhalle!
 
We followed the others across to the Kabin, the garden now transformed into a mini outdoor venue – thankfully the weather is dry and bright even if that wind is perishing. The others made their way to the stage and quickly plugged stuff in. Roman Meissinger, our volunteer MC, checked his mic and started his spiel.

"Guten Abend, welcome to Connies Kabin and our first Kinderhaus concert. In a moment I'll pass you over to the band but I'll say a few words regarding the Kinderhaus first.”

I didn't hear anymore as I needed to get ready for my entrance, take my coat off and so on. The church bells announced one o'clock and I heard the guys start the set intro, Animal starting on the drums then the others joining at short intervals. Its an old trick to quieten the audience, who by the time Stefan launched into his twiddly guitar solo, were ready to rock, well listen at any rate.

"Hello everyone,” Stefan greeted, "We are BlauHase,” there was a little cheer, "And we're proud to be here this afternoon supporting such a worthwhile cause so on behalf of the guys and me, thanks for coming along and supporting the efforts of the Kabin girls.”

There was a polite round of applause before Stefan pulled his instrument back in front of him.

"We'll be doing a mixture of familiar and new material, to get things started and to introduce the final member of the band, we'll start with something Queen recorded almost thirty years ago.”
 
With the intro done, the playing started and the singing began.

'Bicycle, bicycle, bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride my bike
I want to ride my bicycle
I want to ride it where I like.'
Stefan's slightly raspy solo voice floated across the garden space which got a good cheer, he went on with the next stanza which was my cue to join the others on the stage.

"And here she is everyone, our own bicycle rider, Erdbeer!” Stefan called out as I started the next chorus from the side of the temporary platfoorm. I think there was a bit of a cheer as I strutted onto the stage but I was in the zone now.

'So forget all your duties, oh yeah
Fat bottomed girls, they'll be riding today
So look out for those beauties, oh yeah
On your marks, get set, go
Bicycle race, bicycle race, bicycle race
Bicycle, bicycle, bicycle
I want to ride my bicycle, bicycle, bicycle, bicycle
bicycle race.'

And so it began.
 
Stefan had been not just tweaking what was in the set but the order it came, song themes segued one into the next, after Bicycle Race it was Run to the hills and so on, they didn't so much tell a story as much as introduced a nice flow to things. Sometimes the music flowed continuously, at other points either Stefan or myself would introduce the next number, which helps when the pace changes and gives everyone a short respite.
 
We were over halfway though, it only seemed like a few minutes, when it was time to debut Stefan's new song, straight after Ing wen do.

"Phew, so are you all enjoying yourselves?” I called out.

In true concert style there was some mumbling in reply.

"I can't hear you,” I warbled, "Are you enjoying yourselves?”

Of course this time I got the cheering and whooping that we were after.

"So,” I huffed, "A slight change in pace, a new song that Stefan and the guys have been working on, you get to hear it first today, Angels and Demons.”

A few people cheered as I waited for Stefan's signal, then I started the litany that precedes the singing element.

Changeling
The flesh
Necromancy
Your ashes
No tomorrow
Love?
Says Azrael
Lucifer and Gabriel
Host and the Holy Ghost
Dust
Superstitions
Voices.'

The music picked up and I prepared myself to start the actual singing bit.

'Little girl kneels at the foot of the bed;
Angels and demons play in her head.
She carries them around wherever she goes,
She puts on a brave face but somehow it shows.

Little boy stands at the foot of the stairs,
Hoping that someone will answer his prayers.
He puts out the candle, it catches his eye
As ten thousand spaceships fill the sky.

Angels and demons;
Omens and requiems;
Peers and sightseers,
Merchants with souvenirs.

Little boy runs to the top of the stairs,
A voice in his head says “Don't worry, we care.
We've been watching you standing there,
Cascading messages through the air

We're the angels and demons that play with your hair,
We're the angels and demons, and we're always there.
We are the breeze at the well of the stairs;
We are the noises when no-one is there.”

Angels and demons;
Omens and requiems;
Peers and sightseers,
Merchants with souvenirs.

The sky feeds the earth and the earth feeds me
Come with us and we'll let you see,
The lofty spiders climb swiftly away,
Our rumbling machine takes us to another day.

Little boy smiles as they whisk him away
My angels and demons have come to play.
Monsters with claws, wings and all!
I can walk through the air without touching the floor.”

Angels and demons;
Omens and requiems;
Peers and sightseers,
Merchants with souvenirs.

Little girl cries at the foot of the bed,
Angels and demons play in her head.
She carries them around wherever she goes –
She puts on a brave face but somehow it shows.

A spaceship descends, the demon spreads his wings,
Says he's here to be Earth's friend again.
Little girl cries at the foot of the bed,
Wondering what it is that plays in her head.'

Its quite a long number, that's just as well, it would be quite hard on the voice to sing six minutes of high octane lyrics. Into the last few lines then.

'Who knows?
It shows
Who knows?
It shows...
Who knows?1'

by the cheering, whistling and so on, I think they enjoyed it.

 
A & D wasn't all raspy but Vampire Slayer, another Blauhase original certainly is, thankfully I'm not needed on that so I could slink to the side of the stage for a quick sip of lemonade – really lemonade, whilst Stefan and the guys rasped through the demon lyrics. Of course, I have to earn my keep, next up it was Luftballons, which despite the gloomy message within is always a crowd pleaser.

"Well we are almost done,” I panted as the cheering hoard abated, "To thank you for your support today, we've reworked more classic Queen for you.”

I composed myself and took a deep breath as Animal counted us in.

'I've paid my dues
Time after time
I've done my sentence
But committed no crime
And bad mistakes
I've made a few
I've had my share of sand kicked in my face
But I've come through

You are the champions, my friends
And we'll keep on fighting 'til the end
You are the champions
You are the champions
No time for losers
'Cause you are the champions of the world....”

I've taken my bows
And my curtain calls
You brought me fame and fortune and everything that goes with it
I thank you all

But it's been no bed of roses
No pleasure cruise
I consider it a challenge before the whole human race
And I ain't gonna lose

You are the champions, my friends...”'2
 
Well that concluded the main set, just the encore now.

"You want more?” Stefan asked our audience.
"More! Yeah! Bo Rap!” the calls came back, it might be a small audience but they were quite vocal now.
"Did I hear Bo Rap,” Stefan hammed, "What do you think Erdbeer, do they deserve it?”
"Hmm I dunno,” I walked across the stage, for the first time this afternoon seeing individual faces, "I guess they did buy all those tickets,” I paused and found myself looking directly into Mum's eyes across the garden. I crinkled my face into a smile, "Yeah, I think we can manage that Stefan.”

The space quieted down and I once again placed myself at the centre of the platform.

'Is this the real life?
Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality
Open your eyes
Look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go
A little high, little low
Anyway the wind blows, doesn't really matter to me, to me.'

As you know, its one of my favourite songs, I think I do a fair job of Freddie's lyrics despite being a girl. Of course its quite a 'team' song to get right, everyone doing their bit through the tale of woe.

'...Oh mama mia, mama mia, mama mia let me go
Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me
For me
For me
So you think you can stone me and spit in my eye
So you think you can love me and leave me to die
Oh baby can't do this to me baby
Just gotta get out just gotta get right outta here
Ooh yeah, ooh yeah
Nothing really matters
Anyone can see
Nothing really matters nothing really matters to me
Anyway the wind blows.'

There was silence as the last chords floated away on the wind before a huge wave of cheering rolled over us.

"Thank you Altenahr,” Stefan started.

The rest of us joined him to complete the sentence, "We have been BlauHase!”
 

"Here, put your coat on Kiddo,” Mum instructed as she draped said garment around my shoulders.

The adrenalin was still shooting around my head, I was just about bouncing, yeah, I was high on the stuff!

"Congratulations 'Erdbeer',” a familiar voice offered.
"Lisbet, you made it!” I enthused giving the new arrival a quick hug.
"You doubted I would?”
I shrugged, "You might've just been being polite getting the tickets.”
"Hut hum,” Mum hinted.
"Oh sorry, Mum this is my tutor, Lisbet Olafsdottir, Lis, my Mum, Jenny Bond.”
"Nice to meet you Frau Bond, you have a very talented daughter.”
"Jenny please,” Mum told her, “'Erdbeer' here is always sing your praises too.”

For once it wasn't just me taking on a blush, Lisbet coloured up at Mum's comment.
 
"I thought you said you weren't dyeing your hair again,” Nena mentioned a little later as I helped with the clean up.

Oh, I didn't tell you did I, I found a spray on temporary colour in Karstadt earlier in the week, Mand helped me with it this morning. It was a softer colour before, this has come out much stronger, Fuchsia Mum reckons so I hope it does just wash out. Well I could hardly appear as Erdbeer without pink hair and wigs suck – thats my excuse and I'm sticking to it!

I think it worked, a bright counterpoint to the rest of my outfit, knee boots with a ten centimeter heel, a long wool wrap skirt both in brown and a thick slouch neck white jumper.

"Back to boring blonde tomorrow, it washes out,” I told her.
"Like it did last time,” Con put in.
"I read the label this time.”
"Looks cute,” Nen stated with a little shoulder shrug.
 

© Maddy Bell 24.07.2019

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

 
"Come on Gab, dig in!”

I barely glanced up in acknowledgement, it sounded like Manda though. Ahead of me I watched as my team mate and cyclocross guru, Anita, made an elegant dismount just behind the Belgian, Branmier. This course is a pig, several run ups, cross slope descents and not helped any by the overnight rain, or indeed the fret being carried off the North Sea even as we race.

I flipped the gear paddle and prepared for my own dismount. Well it wasn't as elegant as Fraulein Pilz but I got off without losing too much momentum, maybe playing about on that 'artistic' iron in the last few weeks has been useful after all. The soft ground was well rutted by the passage of bike shoes, I almost lost my footing as my balance changed when I shouldered my steed.

Somehow I clambered up the muddy slope, free arm waving about for balance on the tricky ascent, I mean, in the dry and unemcumbered by a bike on your shoulder it would be a difficult climb. Legs screaming, I reached the top, swinging the bike to the ground and with an inelegant leap I was back aboard my steed. At least this bit, along the top of the dyke, is drier and more easily ridden – which means faster too.

Of course, Cross is a big thing in the low countries, attracting big and noisy crowds and I was vaguely aware of the spectators lining the circuit. Click, back up a sprocket and again as my knobbly tyres bit into the gravelly surface allowing me to accelerate without too much loss of traction. The gap to Anita was holding steady at about twenty metres, if I can hold that and no one from behind has a surge I'm a shoe in for third place.

Cow bells and air horns joined the cheering as we approached the next tricky descent, a few metres straight down before a sharp left across the face of the slope. The best line is well defined by muddy ruts, its not so much picking your route as holding your nerve through the grooves. I unclipped my left shoe as I reached the turn ready to dab the ground, well no harm in being cautious, its all too easy to end up in a tangle if you slide out.

I made it safely through though, re-secured my foot and set off in pursuit of the leaders once more. The course designers like to get maximum course for their buck, todays race is part of the Vlaanderen Prestige series so they've gone all out with a sort of scaffold bridge affair into a sort of maze section before returning out underneath for more 'excitement'. The crowd cheered in their usual enthusiastic manner as I powered up the ramp, catching some air at the top before rattling over the bridge, the flooring noisily reminding me I wasn't on terra firma.

The maze section is quite useful to us riders, it gives us a chance to see where the rest of the field is without having to look about too much. Clearly Branmier and Anita would see me too, if they were concerned by my near attendance nothing showed in their mud splattered faces. Of more use to me was where those behind were, on the first return loop I got my chance to see or rather not, I thought I was maybe twenty five metres clear of the girl in fourth but when I did see the chasers they were at least a hundred back, a little knot of about five struggling through the mud.

Well that's good, I picked up my effort, bouyed by my 'lead', maybe I can get back up to Anita? The tunnel area has gotten particularly muddy, wet from the bridge above joining that already on the ground, I picked a line through the slurry and went for it full gas. The back wheel squirmed a bit through the glutinous mixture before a slight rise allowed escape from the clag.

At least the run through the pit area is on a stretch of concrete roadway, not that you'd know today as its covered in a layer of orange gloop. Of course that wasn't helped by the run off from all the washers used to clean the bikes down, todays strategy was clean bike every lap, I spotted Dad with my second bike and eased enough to do a flying dismount.

"FIFTEEN,” my pit crew shouted as I let go of one bike and made a grab for the fresh, clean machine.

I nodded acknowledgement even as I mounted the new steed. The finish line was around the next turn, a hairpin that placed it behind the pit area, the bell sounded, not long to go girl. A gob of mud flew up and hit me squarely in the mouth, pleh, not nice, not nice at all. I spat the grittiness out and wiped a hand across my face which did more of a smear than actually clean the muck from my lips.

Its a good job I'm not a girly girl, you can get a bit splattered on the roads, ride cross and there's definitely no room for prissiness! I slogged back around to the dyke, the backbone of todays circuit, the girls in front still tantalisingly close. Well you know me, third is a result but I'll fight all the way to the line and indeed, I think I made up a few metres on the flat.

The danger is over confidence and it was nearly my undoing, or rather not undoing. The next bank is far too steep to ride so I prepared to dismount for my run up, lose a gear, swing right leg over the back and shiiit! My left shoe failed to disengage the pedal so when I went to step off it pulled the bike forward and in short I ended up in a full on face plant, the pedal of course now decided to release which sent my bike flying into the barrier.

Urgh!, not good, I floundered about for a moment before finding my feet and then finding my bike. I almost dragged the thing to the top of the slope where I remounted to ride down the other side. Something wasn't right, a splash of mud in the eye told me what, my glasses are missing.
I know, sounds stupid wearing glasses in the mud but it keeps most of the crud from your eyes and i've swapped them out with the bike most laps. They're not expensive ones of course, I think Carsten gets them from some DIY place, but you really miss them when they aren't on your face. Well its not like I'm gonna go back to find them in the mud, guess I'll just have to grin and bear the consequences.

"You're catching 'nita!” Mand yelled when I got back to her vantage point.

Was that fact or just wishful encouragement? Dunno but I ploughed on through the gloop, if there's even the slightest chance of a higher step on the podium I'm gonna take it. At this stage of the race, half a lap to go, I can afford to turn up the turbo a bit, oh my legs are feeling it a bit but so will everyone elses be.

Truth be told, my tumble had opened the gap to those in front a bit but whilst they were fighting each other pedal stroke for pedal stroke, I'm riding my own race. So whilst they are contemplating a sprint for the line i've been nibbling away at their lead. By the time we reached the last dyke descent I was less than ten metres from Branmeir's wheel, oh yes, the Gabster is in with a shot!

Ten metres, doesn't sound much does it? On the road, a kick on the pedals and i'd be across but here on this muddy field it might as well have been ten miles. Oh the gap was closing but too slowly and alerted by the crowd, the others were aware I was there too.

Over the bridge and into the maze for the final time and Branmeir hit the gas, Anita responded and if I wanted a shot I had to too. Urgh, heavy legs, the Belgian opened a couple of bike lengths but promptly lost the same as my team mate took a better line on the next turn, which aided me as I was literally following her tyre tracks. Back and forth, back and forth, we were heading towards the tunnel as the next group crossed over the top.

The front pair were pretty much riding side by side as we hit the concrete lane through the pit area with me trailing a couple of metres behind. Into the last turn and the Belgian tried again, this time I reacted first, getting up to Anita's wheel before she heaved herself forward. It looks like a drag race to the finish, less than a hundred metres of muddy grass between us and the line.

I got alongside Pilz but my legs were having none of it, so near yet so far. I wasn't the only one suffering though, Branmeir's slender lead evaporated quickly as we approached the line and a badly timed wheelspin sealed her fate. Nita crossed the line, with my momentum carrying me past Branmeir almost on the line.
 
Dad and Carsten were waiting after the line and it was the latter who stopped me careening into the barrier.

"Great ride Gab,” Anita told me with a pat on the back as I lay over my bars.
"You too,” I heaved out between breaths.

Someone, I'm guessing Dad, wrapped me in a jacket before I relinquished my bike and collapsed onto the grass.

"Come on kiddo, you'll get cold down there.”
"Legs, gone,” I gasped out wiping ineffectively at my mud coated face.

Its a muddy cross race, unlike road events the presentations would be long enough away to get at least semi cleaned up, with the Hymer only a few metres away, time enough for me and Neet to get a quick shower. Dad had the sides on the E-Zee-up on so it was a case of peel off the sodden race kit outside then straight into the shower inside. Like I say, a quick shower, get rid of most of the mud being the priority, Dad and Carsten will have the bikes washed off by the time we're done.

You certainly can't be shy if you race bikes, even at elite level there often isn't much in the way of changing facilities, here on the Dutch coast they had put in mobile showers and a marquee thing for changing and race HQ but having our team 'bus' is certainly a step up. And lets face it, even the officials don't want to do the presentations with mud covered urchins.

"You two ready?” Dad called through the door.
"Almost,” Anita replied as she pulled her hair into some sort of order.
"Be right there,” I added, pulling my trainers on.

For once I wasn't last, when we got to the presentation area Branmeir was a few steps behind us.
 
"In third place, riding for Guylvan Stena, Annamiek Branmeir!”

The Belgian girl, all six foot of her took her place on the lower step.

"And in second place, riding for Apollinaris, Gabrielle Bond!”

I took my place and leant over to shake hands with the vanquished.

"The winner of the fifth round of the Nieuwsblatt Vlaanderen Prestige Elite Cyclocross, Anita Pilz for Apollinaris.”
 
There was all the expected cheering, prize presentation, interviews for the mostly Dutch press and mugging for the official photos before we were able to escape. Don't get me wrong, I know its part of being successful and I do kind of enjoy them but sometimes, like today, all you really want to do is finish getting the mud out of your ears and crash with a hot chocolate. Someone must've read my mind, well de Vreen to be exact, there was a pan of steaming chocolate waiting when we got back to the Hymer.

"You look done in Gab's.”
"Cheers, it was hard work out there.”
"Thought you liked hard work?”
"She likes cocoa more I think,” Anita opined as she snagged a mug of the dark nectar.
"Good race today girls,” Carsten told us, "We'll make a crosser of you yet Gaby.”
"I think she already is papa,” Anita informed her father.
"One of them for me?” Dad enquired joining us a moment later.
"So where're we eating?”
"Ga-abs,” Neet and Mand chorused.
"Hey its important, why they have to run these things at lunch time.”

Of course, as is tradition, we drove for a couple of hours back across Holland before breaking the journey just outside Maastricht, a bar cum restaurant we've used before. I was well starved by now and made short work of my big bowl of spag bol as well as a good slice of apple cake with Sose Anglais. Just what Gaby ordered.

With a couple more hours driving back to the , once we reloaded ourselves I made myself comfortable and was soon in the land of nod.
 
"Gab, we're back.”
"Huh?” I managed as the brain cells tried to re-engage.
"We're home,” Mand repeated as I blearily sat myself up.
"Where's Neet?”
"We dropped them off at the hotel like forty minutes ago.”
"Right.”

I was tired okay? In an ideal world I wouldn't be going to college in the morning, we'd have not done an over five hundred kilometre round trip to do the race and I wouldn't still have mud in my scalp. Dream on Bond, the reality is that I do go to college and Apollinaris isn't a bottomless money pit, the budget for 'cross is puny, little more than kit and expenses, its just not the team's top priority.

"Brrr, its flippin' cold,” I mentioned as we descended from the camper.
"They were warning of snow on the radio.”
"I'll believe it when I see it,” I retorted. We might be in the Eifel 'mountains' but we don't see snow that often or usually in any great quantity.
"Just telling you what they said,” Mand pointed out.
 
I snaked an arm out and silenced the alarm without cracking an eye, I know its stupid o'clock in the morning and dark so why bother? I snuggled back under the duvet and lay listening to the sound of – nothing. Hey, that can't be right, there's always some noise even at six a.m. My eyes snapped open and sure enough, there, almost covering the eyries rooflite was white stuff.

When I was smaller, okay younger, snow on a school day was good news, more than about half an inch and the school would be closed. They are less reactionary here in Germany, after all, they actually clear the roads so there's no excuses until there's at least half a metre which in the Ahrtal is almost never. Oh well, looks like thermal hose and my ski jacket then.

Despite my lethargy I was up and dressed before anyone else appeared, I was into my second cup of coffee before Dad appeared.

"Snow,” I opined.
"Hmm? Oh yeah, they were saying on the radio last night, any left in the pot?”
"This is only my second,” I huffed.
"I know what you're like,” Dad mentioned as he searched for a mug, "Take it you're going to college?”
"Its probably not even snowed in Koblenz or even Remagen.”
 
Thirty minutes later I trudged my way around past Thesings to where the Koblenz Express, aka Olaf's Polo was already waiting.

"Come on Gab,” Max urged throwing the rear door open.
"I'm not late,” I grumbled as I clambered in.

So of course, outside its like minus something, in the car its like a sauna. My fellow travellers had clearly taken off jackets before strapping in hence the pile of coats between me and Max, I on the other hand was left to disrobe in the confines of the back seat whilst balancing my bag on my knees and getting tangled in the seatbelt.

"Hope the autobahn's been cleared,” Olaf suggested as he cautiously piloted us down the valley towards Ahrweiler.
"Music anyone?” Freddy suggested.
"Might be an idea, we'll get the travel news then,” his brother stated.

"You win then?” Max queried as I finished my contortions, adding my jacket to the pile next to me.
"Second,” I sighed, "Anita got top step.”
"Top step?” he asked before the brain cells worked, "Oh she won, that's good for the team right?”
"Yeah, some of the big teams are wanting to sign her for the next season though.”
"What about you?” my BF enquired.
"What about me?”
"You must be a hot property too, they not chasing you?”
"Dunno,” truth be told i've not exactly thought about it, "They might I s'pose, have to ask Dad.”

To be honest I'm not even sure how I feel about the idea, Apollinaris is sort of the family team, me and Mum race and Dad is the cross and junior DS for it seems like forever. Well that's exaggerating things but for the three years we've been in Germany anyhow. Of course Mum was on the team a year before that.

"Earth to Bond!” Max prompted.
"Eh? Oh sorry, just thinking.”
"You don't want to go doing that Gab,” Freddy chuckled from in front of me.
"Ha de ha!” I mumped.

The car chose that moment to have a bit of a squiggle on the icy motorway slip.

"Sorry folks,” Olaf tolds us, "I hope the main roads better.”

Me too, me too.
 
Its a long climb from the Ahrtal up onto the autobahn, the car did another couple of little boogies before we reached the main carriageway and the queue of slow moving traffic. I guess the schnee is more widespread than I thought. Anyhow, we crawled along, a similar procession was heading north, it was slow but we were at least moving.

I think i've said before, I like snow, to look at, ski on, meet princes on – scrub that, it was pure coincidence he was there, well anyway, you get my drift – drift, get it? Riding or driving on the stuff, well I get a bit edgy, especially since my off in Austria last year. The fact that as the day lightened it revealed a sky pregnant with more snow clouds did little to reassure me.

"Looks like its all stopping,” Max pointlessly announced, well everyone could see the string of red stop lights ahead of us.

Olaf slowed us to a halt at about the same moment Robbie Williams was interrupted by the traffic news.

"Autobahn A61 southbound has been closed from Brohltal to Mayen Nord due to worsening road conditions, traffic already on this stretch being directed onto alternative routes.”
"Looks like we're gonna be late,” Freddy stated.

Well duh! And as if that wasn't enough, the sky started to release more of the white stuff.
 

© Maddy Bell 26.07.2019

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

 
"Gab?” Con queried.
"That's me,” I confirmed.
"What's up? Aren't you supposed to be in class by now?”
I rolled my eyes even if she couldn't see me do it, "I wish, we're stuck in snow.”
"We?”
"You know Max, Freddy and Olaf.”
"Max eh?”
"We do it every day Con.”
"I know but you're always good for a wind up. So why're you calling me?”
"Bored, what've you got today?”
"I'm on my work placement remember, sugar I need to get a move on, I need to be there in twenty minutes.”
"Handy you could do it in Dernau,” I noted.
"Well if you don't ask, have you got to do one?”
"The others on the course do but Lisbet says running the kiosk covers me this year.”
"Jammy! Look I need to get off to the Kindergarten, catch you later?”
"If we ever get off the autobahn.”
"You will, and you've got Max to keep you warm, laters.”
"Tschuss.”
 
"I still think Leverkusen will win,” Freddy opined.
"In their dreams little brother,” Olaf replied.
"There is no way they'll beat Hertha,” Max added.

Well that hadn't taken long, five minutes of football talk and they were already arguing. And when did Max become such an expert on kick ball?

"Any news?” I asked the armchair pundits.
"Nada,” Olaf sighed, "Looks like we might be here a while,” he added waving at the windscreen.

The snow was settling on the glass despite the occasional sweep of the wipers, outside did not look pleasant. Olaf still had the engine ticking over to work the heater but with the cold outside and four adults inside the nett effect was steamy windows and an increasingly close atmosphere inside.

"You alright Gab?” Max enquired as the discussion of the giant slaying skills of Beyer Leverkusen ran out.
I shrugged, "What do you think?”

Yeah I know, its not his fault , blame the Gods for the weather but they aren't here and he is.
 

It was another two hours before the Polizei got the traffic moving again, there had been several minor dings to sort out as well as all the white stuff. We were directed down to the 'old' road which was now moving freely, even if there were still a few flakes of white falling. I would've been quite happy to have just gone back home at this point but Olaf was keen to get into his office so we finally rolled into Koblenz just turned twelve.
 
I knocked on the door, I need coffee and I know where I can get a half decent cup.

"Come!” a voice encouraged from beyond the woodwork.
I pushed the portal open and snuck my head around the edge, "Hi Lisbet.”
"Gaby, wasn't expecting to see you today.”
"We got caught in the fun on the autobahn, any chance of a coffee?”
"Sure, I'm only marking some papers.”

It didn't take me long to get Lisbet's coffee machine going and I was soon sipping on a warming cup of Columbian.

"So what are you going to do now you've got here?”
"I had intended doing some reading,” I allowed, "Not much else doing with everyone on their placements.”
"Well I think you should head home as soon as possible, you know they've forecast more schnee later on?”
"Really?”
"Really,” Lisbet confirmed.
"Damn, I'll have to text Max, see what him and Freddy are doing.”
My lecturer took a sip of her own coffee, "I'm just going to make a call.”
"You want me to leave?”
"No its alright, sit and drink your kaffee.”

I settled back into my seat and fished my Handy from my Handtasche and tapped out a message to my BF.

'going bk hmas soon as, u?
G xx'

I pressed send then put some more hot beverage inside me.
 
You know what its like, you don't mean to eavesdrop but you can't help sort of overhearing and thus I caught the tail end of Lisbets call.

'Near Remagen...very...oh I think so...no, the spring term...yes...that should work...i'll let her know...fine, tschuss!'

Sounded interesting, enquiring minds and all that.

"That was Herr Dietmeyer,” Lisbet mentioned.

I kinda know the name but in what connection.

"Sounded interesting,” I admitted.
"We were discussing a certain students commuting.”
"Commuting sucks.”
"I couldn't agree more and I only live in Ehrensburg. So Arn agrees with me, especially with the long term forecast, that its pointless coming all the way down here just to sit reading in the library.”
"Well I can't argue with that,” I agreed.
"So we've agreed you can do the course work at home until the spring term starts and everyone is back on campus.”

Did I just miss something?

"Sorry?”
"You don't need to come down to Koblenz until next term Gaby,” Lisbet confirmed.
"I thought you were talking about someone else.”
"No young lady, definitely you, there are conditions.”
My brain was still struggling with the whole concept, "Conditions?”
"Understand we aren't just giving you a holiday, we do want you to do some work so we'll have a telephone seminar each week to see where you are and I'll set some written work to be done. Of course if you need to talk I'll be here as usual but unless there is anything where we need to be face to face you can timetable the work to suit yourself, that okay?”
"You sure this is okay? Dad'll have kittens.”
"Very sure and Arn is in total agreement, you're my best student, I shouldn't say this but you are so far ahead of the rest it seems rather punitive to have you do all the travelling for basically no reward. So Gabrielle Bond, I'll sort you out some work and drop it in the post then I don't want to see you until next term.”

Dang! She shoots, she scores!

"I don't know what to say.”
"Thank you?”
"Goes without saying, thank you Lisbet.”
"Just don't let me down eh, we've already gone a bit out on a limb with your 'placement'.”
 
By the time i'd gathered myself together, had a second coffee with Lisbet and collected a couple of weighty tomes from the library it was heading for fourteen. Max hadn't replied so I wrapped up and headed for the bahnhof through the slushy streets, I'll ring him later. I still can't believe it, three weeks until half term plus that week, thats a whole month without having to come down to college and its properly official.

It was only when I got to the Löhr Centre that I realised i'd not had any lunch so I treated myself to a slice of pizza from the Backhaus and a bag of fudge from the chocolate shop – and a Lübecker marzipan bar for emergeny use. The Löhr station is a bit basic and exposed so I was glad that the weather wasn't doing anything other than grey and cold – especially as the Zug was five minutes late leaving the main station. When it did arrive I managed to claim one of the single seats upstairs, plenty of space to get comfortable and eat my late lunch.

Four whole weeks at home. Well except for my shifts at the kiosk, maybe I should do some extras? Well that and at half term its the Apollinaris training camp, unlike Austria which was all about team building, Tenerife is going to be a solid training block ahead of the Spring Classics. Not that I'm riding the classics of course, well not unless the Federation call me up, I can't deny it would be good to return to Roubaix and maybe get to do some of the others.

"You're looking chipper considering the weather,” my favourite train conductor observed.
"I've got a month off college,” I beamed.
"Alright for some,” she mumped.
"It can't be that bad Myleen?”
"We were stuck at Ahrbrück for an hour this morning, frozen points,” I was informed.
"That's nothing, we were stuck on the motorway for three hours.”
"Okay, I'll give you that. So you won't be on the Express every day then?”
"Not until I go back for spring term.”
"Don't we live some exciting lives.”
"Oh I don't know, there's a würst eating contest at Der Mühle next week.”
"Sign me up,” Myleen grinned.

A few tentative flakes were blowing about when I left the Express at Dernau, nothing much on their own but they were joining the remnants of earlier falls. The roads and paths were currently clear although white was encroaching on the edges of the tarmac and micro drifts sat along the wall bases as I transited the village to reach Schloss Bond. One thing's for sure, training will be indoors tonight.
 
"Hi!” I called out to anyone who was listening, "I'm home!”
"Stick the kettle on kiddo,” Mum requested.

Yeah, code for make a pot of tea – not that I'm against the idea.

“'kay,” I yelled back, hanging my ski jacket up as I did so.

The pot was already warming before my parents both arrived in the kitchen.

"I take it you got to Koblenz okay?” Dad queried.
"Eventually, we got stuck on the autobahn, the Polizei closed the road, then we couldn't get off the junction, nightmare, it was lunchtime when I got to college.”
"The forecast is more overnight, maybe you should go on the train tomorrow.”
"Myleen said the train was stuck this morning, stuck points or something.”
"I thought it was only British Rail that suffered from things like that,” Mum suggested.
"Think I'll just give it a miss.”
"That sounds a bit flip, what aren't you telling us, is the college closed or something?” Mum enquired.
I gave a little giggle, "Or something.”

The kettle reached its zenith so I turned my attention to the tea pot with any explanation.

"What's so funny?” Dad asked.
"Oh nothing.”
"Well if its nothing you can tell us then,” Dad logic at its best.
"Lisbet said I'm not go back until next term.”
"That's your tutor right? Why, have you been suspended, what have you done Gabrielle Bond?”
"Nothing Mum, honest. She said there wasn't much point in me going just to read in the library.”
"Don't you have lectures or tutorials to go to?” Dad queried.
"They're all suspended until next term because everyones doing their placements.”
Mum cut in, "So why aren't you doing a placement?”
I did the eye rolling thing, "Don't you guys ever listen, I told you, I get a bye because of running the kiosk.”
Mum started pouring the tea, "So they've told you to stay at home?”
"Uh huh, Lisbet's sending me some stuff to do but I don't have to go to Koblenz until after Tenerife.”
"Well don't think you are gonna sit around here doing nothing for a month.”
"As if.”
"You can start by cleaning that pit you call a bedroom.”
"Mu-um!”
 
"Why didn't you reply to my SMS?”
"My phone was out of charge,” Max replied forestalling my planned rant, "So what did you want?”
"Doesn't matter, guess what.”
"What.”
"Dur, I don't have to go to college for four weeks.”
"They finally worked out that you're a fraud?”
"Huh! I'll have you know I'm top of the class.”
"So go on, I can tell you're itching to tell me.”
"If you don't want to know...”
I could hear the intake of breath down the phoneline, "Lets hear it.”
"Well you know we were late, well I thought i'd get a coffee with Lisbet before going to the library....”
 
I looked up at the skylight, whilst the moon was shining brightly through my little portal to the heavens, a few errant snowflakes were settling on the glass, one here, another over there. We watched the RTL news specifically for the weather, of course it dominated the news too, closed roads, delays up at the airport, a ten car pile up over on the Frankfurt motorway. The forecast didn't look too bad, light snow over night with heavier falls through tomorrows rush hour, much the same as today then except tonight it was falling on top of todays contribution, am I glad I can stay indoors tomorrow.

The bad thing about that is that Mum was deadly serious about sorting out the eyrie' Okay, its not the tidiest of places but I know where everything is, sort of. Hmm, maybe she has a point.

I wonder what its like up at the Preiser's? If its settling down here it'll be a lot worse that high up, I know someone who'll be enjoying it though, its a pity I can't get there but it'd be far too dodgy to ride. I'll have to give Bern a call in the morning, oh and Con, maybe I'll pop into the Kindergarten and wind her up.
 

© Maddy Bell 28.07.2019

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

 
My hand snaked out and gave the alarm a warning thump, six o'clock and I'm not even going to college. So why on earth didn't I switch the alarm off, you can be such a ditz sometimes Gaby Bond! I might not be a morning person but once I'm awake, thats it, I have to get up even if I catch forty winks later.

Even at this ungodly hour of the day Dad's usually up before me unlike Mum who could sleep for England, I could hear him outside already, clearing snow from the drive. I lay there for a moment collecting my thoughts and deciding on todays curriculum. There's the room cleaning which I suppose I ought to do but what else – ooo, I know, I'll go see Bern and Drea.

Hmm, how do I get there though, I don't think Dad or Mum would be keen on running taxi, the bus from Ahrbrück station runs at daft times and its too far to walk. Bike? Well its no fun on a road bike if its at all icy, ditto the Schauff which leaves one of my cross bikes – orrrr my Klein! Oh yeah, she shoots, she scores, I can take the track up from Rech so I won't have much distance on the road.

Decision made I leapt, well metaphorically, into action, morning ablutions then pulling on full winter bike kit – not eveything obviously, i've not had breakfast yet. I'm never sure if dressing for the bike this time of year is good or bad but i've got all the options to choose from. It didn't take me long to pull on my thermal bib tights, one of my ski base layers, sports bra and tube socks and topped it off with a short sleeved Apollinaris race jersey.
I grabbed my thermal jacket, head warmer and ski gloves then headed down from the eyrie for breakfast.
 
"There anything left in the pot?” Dad enquired as I slathered Nuttela® onto another slice of toast.
"Should be, i've only had one cup.”
"Excellent, its cold enough to freeze the bits off a penguin out there.”
"Really?”
"Well its certainly a bit chilly,” he allowed as he helped himself to a mug of coffee. "So what are you up to all dressed up?”
"I er thought i'd take the mountain bike out for a quick spin?”
"What about your bedroom?”
"I'll do that when I get back,” I proposed.
"Hmm, okay, the tyres probably want a bit of air,” he mused, "Might be an idea to keep off the roads, everywhere is like glass this morning.”
"That was the general idea,” I agreed around a mouthful of chocolate spread covered bread.
"And be careful, we can do without any broken bones before the training camp.”
"Yes Dad.”
"I mean it Gaby, we don't want any repeat of the last time you and two wheels met snow.”
"It wasn't my fault,” I moaned.
"No one said it was, just be careful, please? And make sure you've got your Handy.”
 
It was rolling on quarter to eight by the time I got down to the basement otherwise known as the 'bike cave'. Dad had returned to his ice chipping and snow clearing but he had got the Klein down for me and given the compressor was still gurgling to itself, the air thing had been done too. Helmet on, ski goggles pulled into place, then lastly gloves added before I pushed the multi-coloured Klein out into the early morning gloom.

Dad might've been clearing the drive but it still looked a bit dodgy so I elected to walk out to the road before mounting up.

"You off?” Pater asked needlessly when I reached where he was shovelling white stuff.
"Well duh!”
"Don't be gone all day or your mother will have my guts.”
"I won't.”
"I didn't put a lot of air in the tyres, you should get a good grippy footprint with those tyres.”
“'kay.”
"You got everything?”
"Yup,” I patted my back pack, "All in here.”
"Which way are you going?”
"Thought i'd look at the trails behind Rech?”
"Okay, enjoy yourself and...”
I interrupted him, "I'll be careful.”
 
It felt more than a bit weird as I set off up the lane, its been ages since I last rode any bike without drop handlebars, unless you count the 'artistic' iron. I did a quick flick through the gears, Dad did upgrade it from twenty four to twenty seven gears last year so its not quite the dinosaur it was when Caro gave it to me. To be honest, for how much I use it even that's a bit extravagant. It's not just the gears of course, the whole riding dynamic is different and with the 'bobbing' of the suspension every time you get out of the saddle, a bit weird.

When I got to the main road that was at least clear so for the short distance to the turn down into the old village I gave it some welly. Well sort of, between the forks and the wide, soft tyres it was a bit like riding through treacle, the tyre tread making a loud ripping noise as it was torn from the tarmac. I took it a whole lot more carefully as I bounced over the railway tracks and navigated the less than perfect lane to the Schloss and beyond onto the lane into the forest.

The snow wasn't deep, maybe five centimetres, once past the last couple of houses it was only marred by what I think was a set of deer prints, well I hope its deer, Max was on about some wild boar being spotted around about here a few weeks ago. The degree of frost actually made it easier to ride, keeping the snow crisp and firm under my wheels even as I passed the Rech de-limit sign. Thats a joke, there might be a bit of local traffic using this lane but it doesn't go anywhere, well not really so why you need a name board on it is beyond me.
 
Its amazing how different everything looks with a coating of white stuff, i've walked up here with Max a few times, as far as the barbeque pit, but the trees have always had leaves on and the trail is pretty obvious. I just hope I get on the right trail to go up to Staffel, i've only ever been all the way through once and that was coming down. I'd been going for almost fifteen minutes and was starting to think i'd gone wrong when I spotted the fire pit, well the small shelter next to it, about a hundred metres further on.

I was nearly ejected from my seat twice before I reached it though, hitting a couple of branches hidden under the snow – its not that I didn't see them, rather that I misjudged their size. Why did I get caught a second time? Well it was literally just a couple of metres past the first one and I was barely back in control before my front wheel hit it! That could've been quite nasty if i'd been going faster, not that the conditions really allowed you to get much above ten kph.

A short breather was in order so I propped the Klein against one of the picnic tables, brushed the snow from the bench and sat myself down. My backpack has one of those bladder things in it so at least the water was warmed a little by being on my back. I took a decent pull of liquid then just sat there listening to the silence.

Well not really silent, without my breathing and the noises made by the Klein a whole plethora of noise was evident, a bit of bird twitter, was that a woodpecker plus a variety of other noise which I couldn't readily identify, what sounded like shuffling or branches moving – who knows? Anyhow, once I got my breath back I prepared to continue riding and spotted a finger post a few metres further up the trail.
 
The main trail continued fairly level through the trees but the post suggested that Staffel was five point four kilometres along what looked to be no more than an animal track. Is this right? I don't remember it being like this when we came the other way but of course everything looks different today. Oh well, its the way it points for where I'm headed, it has to be the way.

It was pretty clear just five minutes later that this was not the trail that the Bond's had descended, it was just too narrow and twisty. Maybe a more cautious person would've turned around to find the right track but Gaby, in the spirit of all great explorers, decided to push on. In short order, quite literally as a more open glade had attracted a deeper coating of white stuff which was covering all manner of hazzards, one of which tipped her off the Klein.

She picked herself up and after checking her steed for damage, pushed her way towards some, hopefully more rideable trail. The problem now was that it wasn't clear exactly where the path was beyond the snow field, Stopping, she surveyed her options, behind her own wheel and foot prints were quite clear but there wasn't anything to guide her choice ahead of her.

Or was there? On the higher ground about ten metres to her right the snow was a bit churned up, the ground below exposed in several places, whoever or whatever had been there must've got here on a path, right? Gab hauled the bike around to face the disturbed ground and started pushing up the slight slope, a job not made any easier by the unseen obstacles under the white stuff.

She was so intent on hauling herself and the bike up the rise that missed not one but two clues that she was not alone in the clearing, the cloud of steam and the breathless snuffling noises. It would be hard to say who was the more surprised, Gab or the boar, when she almost walked right into the beast,

"Aargh!”

Grunt!

"Oh sugar, this is not good,” she muttered to herself.

Grunt! Grunt!

"What the hell do I do now?”

Of course she had a flashback to that day, best part of three years ago, when Ron had that incident with the boar during that race. Ron had come off decidedly second best in that encounter, some nasty gouges and a damaged bike, it was almopst enough to put you off sausages. And here she was, face to face with two hundred kilos of surprised and ugly porcine.

"Er nice piggy, I'll er just go back this way.”

By the beasts grunting and body language, it didn't like that idea too much, at least it appeared to be on its own. The two of them stood regarding each other in a potentially deadly Mexican stand off.

"Okay, so I guess I'll stay here for a bit,” Gab observed under her breath.

They stood like this for a good ten minutes before a distance sound caught the big pig's attention.

'Is that someone coming?'

Woof!
'Well that was definitely a dog and it sounds like its coming this way.'
Woof, woof!
Wroof!
'Or two even.'

Grunt.

The boar was clearly in a quandry, stare this strange beast down or retreat from a potential encounter with the wolf things.

Grunt, grunt grunt!

This was clearly addressed towards Gaby before the beast turned on its heel and trotted off into the woods. She let out a big breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding and just stood there staring at where the animal had now disappeared. Well that was something she didn't want to repeat.
 
A couple of minutes later two big dogs, they looked like Rottweilers, bounded into the clearing and straight toward her. She'd avoided being gored to death, was she now going to be ripped apart by ravening hounds? Stand still, don't let them know you're afraid, wasn't that the advice, but she was, each dog would best her on the scales, if they attacked she'd not stand a chance.

There was a whistle, then another before she heard 'Kurt, Axel, what've you found?'
"Eek!”

The dogs came up to her but after a quick sniff their interest was taken by the more interesting odours of the boar.

Wroof!

"Leave the girl alone boys!” a voice attached to an older man ordered, "You okay miss?”
"Er fine, they, er, just surprised me.”
"They can get a bit boisterous when they get on a trail, its usually some squirrel they've run to ground. What are you two so excited for?”
"There was a boar here, I think your dogs frightened it off.”
"You saw it?” the chap queried.
"Rather too closely, I don't know what would've happened if your dogs hadn't come when they did.”
"I know they've been seen up at the Ring but I didn't realise they were around here, you lost?”
"Er kind of, I'm trying to get up to Staffel and I sort of lost the trail?”
"You've come up from the picnic ground?”
"Er yeah.”
"You turned too soon.”
"The post said to come this way.”
"Not your fault, i've told Johannes its in the wrong place more than once but does he listen?”
"So I have to go all the way back?”
"You could but there's a trail across to the main track, just to the left of that Holly bush, probably best if you push that thing though.”
"Thanks.”
"No problem, now where have tfose dogs got to, Axel! Kurt! Where are you?”

Well my guess is chasing after the pig.
 
I hauled the bike back down the slope and across to the Hollly tree, the path was fairly obvious but if anything, narrower than the one which brought me here. I know he said to push the bike but you have to try riding don't you? Well that experiment lasted about twenty metres to where the way squeezed through a gap that my handlebars were too wide for.

It wasn't that far to the main trail but by the time i'd pushed and slithered my way there i'd added another fifteen minutes to my ride. Once I got to the roadway I recognised it almost straight away and even with its dusting of snow it was quite rideable. Funny though, I'm sure it was steeper coming down.
 
There was a z bend bracketing a bridge then a long right hand bend curved away and up, and up, and up. I started dropping through the gears, my indicator for changing being a loss of traction on the snow covered surface. You can usually winch yourself up pretty much anything with MTB gears but I ran out of gears and traction well before the lane lost any of its gradient.

I had a rather undignified and awkward dismount episode then started heaving the bike upwards – not that pushing was any easier as I struggled for my footing more than a few times. Eventually it eased to a more restrained five or six percent and I finally got some two wheeled motion again. It was only another half kilometre before I broke out of the woodland into open fields all currently a uniform white.

The air was crisper out here, the sun was trying to break through but the temperature was low enough for each laboured breath to produce a cloud of vapour. I spotted a few rag tag buildings, then a few more, is that the church? Then after a kink in the track between two scrappy bits of drystone wall and some skeletal trees I spotted what had to be the Preiser's farm.
 
I wasn't the first to use the lane into the farm, the snow was compressed and quite rutted in places, the former not an issue but the latter no fun to navigate on a bike. After a bit of cycle ballet I finally made it into the yard and gratefully pulled up by the farmhouse door which, even today, was open. I parked the Klein and poked my head inside.

"Hello, anyone at home?”
I could hear some mumbling from the kitchen before a voice replied, "Coming.”

A moment later the inner door opened and Bernie bustled out looking every bit the farmers wife, wellies, hacking jacket, the lot.

"Gaby! What are you doing here?”
"Thought i'd ride up to see my girls.”
"You must be freezing, you should've come straight in.”
"Any chance of a cuppa?”
"Of course, where are my manners, get yourself inside.”

She ushered me inside after i'd kicked my boots clear of most of the accumulated snow and ice.

"I'm not keeping you from anything?”
"Only the poultry, they'll survive for a few minutes, come on in.”

I went through into the kitchen where the owner of the second voice was revealled.

"This is Marty's cousin,” Bern started, "Tally this is Gab.”
Tally's ears perked up, "The one who birthed Drea?”
"Guilty as charged,” I sighed, "Gaby Bond, nice to meet you.”
"And you, Bernie has told me so much about you.”
"I didn't know Mart had any cousins?”
"We live over near Bayreuth so we don't visit very often but when we heard there was a new kinder in the family we just had to come.”
 
© Maddy Bell 30.07.2019

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

 
"So where's Drea?” I queried once I was installed on a chair by the range.
"Kindergarten,” Bern advised as she filled the coffee maker, "Mama took her, she and Tante Isabel have gone up to Adenau, they'll collect her on the way back. So really Gab's, what are you doing out on your bike on a college day?”
"Long story short, I'm sort of doing my placement at the kiosk so Lisbet, thats my course tutor, arranged that I don't need to go down to Koblenz until after half term.”
"Kiosk? Thats an unusual placement,” Mart's cousin suggested.
"I run it with my friend Connie, her parents own it but we're responsible for making it work.”
"Lucky you,” Tally opined.
"She's a dab hand with currywürst,” Bern put in as she organised the coffee.
"Its not difficult,” I pointed out arranging my hat and gloves to warm.
"Ah but its a useful skill,” Tally told us, "Me, I can burn water.”
"No one can burn water,” I scoffed.
"Seriously Gaby, I put a pan on to do some eggs, I got distracted and next thing I know the alarm is wailing and the pan is smoking.”
"I'd best feed the hens,” Bernie mentioned, "They get annoyed if you're late, be right back.”
“'kay,” I allowed.
 
"I'm pretty impressed that you birthed Andrea,” Tally observed once Bern had departed.
"I don't want to make a career of it,” I told her slipping my boots off so I can warm my frozded tootsies.
"How'd you know what to do? I'm pretty sure I couldn't do it,” she admitted.
"Well I went to the pre natal classes with Bern and one of my friends, her mother is a midwife so I guess I picked stuff up.”
"I would've just panicked.”

And I didn't?

"So you at college Tally?”
"Uni, Modern Languages at Chemnitz, I'm supposed to be revising for my Italian oral this week but Mama said she was coming to Eifel to see Tante Erika and the baby, no contest! So Bernie says you are a famous Radrennerin?”
"Er sort of, not exactly famous.”
Bern swept back in with a cold draught, "Brr, its freezing out there.”
"You were quick,” I noted.
"Well they are in the coop, doesn't take long to put the grain in the trough.”
"Gaby was just telling me that she's not famous,” Tally put in.
"Not famous, yeah right and I'm the next Pope! Double Weltmeisterin our Gaby and thats without everything else.”
"Oh do tell.”
"Bern,” I groaned.
"Well if you don't blow your trumpet, its down to your friends Gaby Bond,” Bern stated.
"There's more than the cycling?” Tally pursued.
"Oh far more,” Bern gleefully expoused as she took off her jacket. "Lets see, there's the Kiosk, she sings with a band, runs the local cheerleaders, she was the WeinKonigin a couple of years ago then there's all the charity stuff oh and her boyfriend is the next Baron Lech!”
"Thats exagerating a bit Bern.”
"In what way? You want some raspberry torte?”

Distracting me with food, that's underhand Bern.

"Er sure.”
"You sing in a band?” Tally queried.
"Well its not like I'm a proper member.”
"Don't think they see it that way,” Bern stated, "You did the Rheinhalle and that festival with them.” She turned to her cousin in law, "She can sing the leaves off the trees.”
"So who are this band, should I know you?”
"BlauHase, we do a mixture of rock covers and some of Stefan's own stuff, mostly its just local gigs.”
"Thought you said there was a tour?” Bern mentioned passing me a mug of coffee.
"Well nothing's fixed yet.”
"Sounds impressive to me,” Tally stated.
"I've got a CD you can listen to,” Bernie offered, "Drea loves singing along to Tante Gaby.”
"Good job she doesn't understand some of the lyrics,” I cautioned.
 
"I should get off, I want to call at the Kiosk on the way back and I told Dad I wouldn't be late.”

It was already nearly thirteen, my stop for coffee had evolved into staying for lunch – well who's gonna turn down Linsensuppe with sausage and home baked bread? Not me for sure.

"You gonna be okay? I'm sure Papa would take you down, he'll be back soon,” Bern suggested.

I'm still getting to grips with Bern referring to Mart's parents as Mama and Papa, seems weird when I know her parents, have known them for like ten years.

I shrugged, "I'll be fine, pretty sure the main roads will have been ploughed so its only getting out of your lane – and I'm on the mountain bike.”
"Your choice, ring when you get back though.”
“'kay, you sound like Mum.”
"You'll get it when you have children,” she replied.
"That'll be never then,” I chortled.
"Stranger things have happened,” she pointed out.
"More intrigue?” Tally queried.
"Personal stuff,” I told her.

I finished preparing for the arctic tundra beyond the farmhouse door, readjusted my helmet and slipped by glasses on.

"Nice to meet you Gaby Bond.”
"And you,” I stated before addressing my friend, "Give my regards to Erika and give Drea a hug from me.”
"I will, be careful girl.”
 
The good news was that no more white stuff had issued from above, the bad news was that it was still the wrong side of zero despite the weak sunshine decorating things. The lane down into the village had me pushing as much as riding, just when you thought you'd cracked it, a soft patch of white stuff had you plummeting axle deep into a pothole! Eventually though I reached the 'main' road and turned towards Kesserling a couple of kilometres down a freezing chute, the road unevenly cleared, one moment it was compact snow, the next potentially icy tarmac.

To say I took it steady would be an understatement, at least after the Kaltenborn road comes in the road levels off some through Ahrbrück to the '257'. By now, that and the Ahrtal Bundestraße should be cleared and it is downhill all the way home so it shouldn't take too long even being cautious. It was certainly a reief to get to Kesserling and whilst no more effort had been made to clear the road, traffic for the wood mill had reduced the snow to a grey mush that for the most part was easier to navigate.

When I finally reached Brück it was a debate whether to use the bike track or stick to the main road, after getting sprayed with slush a couple of times, I elected to use the still white over bike track. Okay it was more pleasant but slower, from the wheel tracks I certainly wasn't the first bike to use it since the snow but a few times I hit rutted ice, hidden below more recent falls. Thankfully MTB tyres being so fat, they coped a lot better than even the Schauff would've.
 
It might only be a dozen kilometres from Staffel to Altenahr but it was pretty much an hour later that I slid to a halt outside the kiosk.

"Can I get a coffee.”
"Sure,” Kris told me without looking up from her magazine.
"Interesting?”
"Just an article about the boss lady,” she advised over her shoulder as she started the coffee.
"Therese?”
"Hardly, nah, Gaby, she's got fingers in mamy pies,” she told me.
"Really?”
"You wouldn't think so to see her,” she turned around and the brain cells finally collided, "Gab! What are you doing here?”
"Keeping tabs on the staff, so what's this article?”

The article, it turns out, was a gig review in our local monthly paper, Ahrtal Zeitung, the gig however being the showcase before Chrimbo over at the Rheinhalle in Bonn. On the button they are not. Seems that the music correspondent enjoyed our set even if we relied on the covers 'too much', I flushed a bit just reading that 'the diminutive lead singer had the audience hooked from the first note to the last'.

Luckily I wasn't properly named, I was 'Erdbeere' on the programme and that's the name 'Axel P' used in his review. It wasn't a big article, no pictures and it covered the whole presentation but I felt some sympathy for the other acts as fully two thirds of Axel's words were devoted to BlauHase. I really do need to make a decision about this tour thing though, I fibbed earlier, the tour dates are booked, I just haven't decided whether to commit to two weeks with the band.

"Think he likes you,” Kris suggested as she passed me my cup of coffee.
"Who?”
She tapped the paper, "Axel.”
"Its about the band.”
"If you say so but its mostly 'the singer this, the singer that'.”
"I hadn't noticed.”
"Likely story.”
"So how's business?”
"What do you think? Its the middle of winter, its snowed, its freezing cold, everyone is rushing here for Kaffee and würst.”
"Well I don't know, we've not been open most of the winter.”
"Don't get me wrong Gab, I'm grateful for the shifts but this week has been like the Friedhof.”
I took a sip of my coffee, "Has Therese said anything?”
"Not really, what's to say? Anyhow, aren't you supposed to be at college?”

So I had to go through the whole explanation again.
 
"Your Mother is looking for you,” Dad told me when I got into Bond Acres.
"She say what for?”

To be honest I'm pretty sure I know what for, sorting out my eyrie.

"Not directly but your room did come up in conversation, where've you been?”
"I ended up going to see Bernie then I stopped at the kiosk on the way back.”
"You've been out over six hours.”
"I ended up walking a lot of it, oh I had a face off with a boar, I ended up staying for lunch.”
"You had lunch with the boar?”
"Dur, with Bern and Mart's cousin – sugar I need to ring Bern, let her know I'm back.”

I fumbled through my pockets looking for my Handy.

"You could have rung us to say where you were,” Dad sauggested.
"Ay um yeah, er sorry.”
 
"A ha! There you are daughter mine!” Mum gleefully declared, catching me climbing the stairs.
"Er hi Mum, I'm just gonna get a shower then I'll start on my room,” I offered.
"Eh, oh yeah, your room, good.”
"There something else?”
"Your birthday.”
"Twenty four days and eight hours away.”
"George has finalised the spring programme.”
"And?”
"We're racing in Spain and Portugal the week before Tenerife then we go straight to Meh hi co so I don't know when we'll fit in your birthday, sorry kiddo.”

Bum! I know its her job and all that but we've, well i've been planning on this birthday shopping trip for weeks, a weekend with Mum in Paris.

"Really?”
"Your Dad did come up with an idea, I know its not Paris but we could do a day in Köln or somewhere this next week then fit in Paris later in the year?”

Its disapointing not going to Paris but this new plan does have its merits, I get two trips, two chances to be at the recieving end of Mum's largese.

"I guess.”
"Okay, how does Monday sound?”
"We'll have to be back for Cheer, I'm in charge this week, Tuesday would be better.”
"I've got a training session in the morning,” I was informed.

Looks like even the cut back version is gonna get the knock back.

"What about Saturday, I'm supposed to be at the Kiosk but I can probaly get Kris to cover and I'll do a day in the week instead.”
"Saturday as in next week?”
"Yeah.”
"We set off Saturday, what about this Saturday?”
"I guess, if I can get Kris – and the weather is okay.”
"I'll leave it with you then, any idea where you want to go?”
"I'll have a thunk.”
"Okay, in the meantime, room.”
"Yes Mum.”
"I'm doing Bolognese for tea, spaghetti or shells?”

Spaghetti might be traditional but it can be pretty messy, shells, Conchiglie get my vote today.

"Shells I think.”
"Shells it is, your Father will eat anything and we might not have to wash the table cloth afterwards!”
 
I know its a bit backwards, showering then cleaning my room but after a day of riding, even if it was mostly quite slow had me feeling definitely, urgh. A quick shower then, I can have a more relaxed clean later or in the morning. It really was a splash and dash affair, whilst i've been putting the clean up off, it needs doing and i've got a plan.

Like most plans, it's not perfect but its my plan so there. A ten minute flurry of activity soon found the flaw in said plan, yes you could see the floor, the heaps of discarded clothing were gone and even my bed linen was stripped. However, there was now a veritable mountain of my stuff on the landing below, ostensibly heading for the washing machine – guess what I'm doing for the rest of the evening?

Oh well, once its done.
 
I got the first two loads done before Mum called me to pasta, we sat to eat with the rumble of washing machines and drier giving it what for below us.

"So you given any thought to Saturday?” Mum prompted.
I hadn't of course so I just said the first thing that popped into my head, "Bonn?”
"Bonn? You sure?”
"Yeah, why not, we won't be travelling for hours and there are some good shops.”
"If you say so kiddo, I was going to suggest going by train but its as easy driving to Bonn.”
"Er yeah, sure,” her driving's not that bad, really, if you close your eyes and hum.
"Maybe someone could treat their Mother to lunch?” Dad sort of suggested.
"I guess I could stretch to Maccy D's.”
"Not quite what I had in mind,” Pater advised.

Well I wasn't serious, not really.

"I'm sure we can find somewhere suitable, dinner's on me Mum.”
"Why thank you daughter.”
"Er Mum?”
"Okay there had to be a catch, what?”
"Is there any fresh bed linen, I don't think mine'll be dry tonight.”

 
© Maddy Bell 01.08.2019

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

 

"Morning kiddo,” Dad cheerily greeted when I made my way downstairs.
"Mornin',” I allowed around the latest yawn.
"So what're you doing today?”
"Not sure,” I replied checking the coffee pot, "You want?”
"I'm fine thanks, I'm going down to Apollinaris if you're interested.”

He probably had something in mind for me to do.

"What's the catch?”
"Why would there be a catch?”
"Dad, I'm not ten any more.”
"And don't we just know it.”
"Hey, no fair!”
"If you must know, the new frames arrived yesterday, we've got less than a week to get the seniors bikes all prepped and an extra pair of hands would be useful.”
"I didn't know there were new bikes coming.”

Look, I'm a bike whore, I might not do the mechanics but I can appreciate good kit and i've been known to lust over a new bike for hours.

Dad shrugged, "We signed a good deal with Pinarello last year and they like having World Champions on their frames.”
"You want me all day?”
"I'll take that as you're coming then, probably most of the day.”

Its not like i've got anything else to do, well reading but I can do that anytime.

"Okay, count me in.”
"Get your fruhstück and we'll get off then.”
 
Fifteen minutes later I was fed and dressed and waiting for Pater, now there's a first.

"Ready?”
"As I'll ever be.”
"You might want a bit more than that on, the workshop isn't the warmest place.”

I considered what I was wearing, winter tights, a stretchy black skirt I use for 'waitressing' jobs, stripey long sleeved top and a cardigan – oh and my ski jacket. H'mm, maybe a fleece would be better than the cardy.

"I'll go get a fleece.”
"Try not to be too long.”
"Only five minutes, tops.”
"I'll be in the car.”

Which means it will be nice and toasty when I get in, the Saab really does have a good heater. I shucked my rucky and jacket then did the stairway dash up to my private domain. Okay, I know, half a job Bond's been at it again, yep I did all that laundry last night but it still wants putting away and, well my warmest fleece is in the pile.

It took me a couple of minutes to spot a sleeve in the mountain of stuff and another to extricate it without turning the whole lot into a textile avalanche onto the floor. I guess I need to sort it all out when we get back, before Mum sees it. Cardigan off, fleece on, change my scrunchie to match then I decided trainers would be more practical than ankle boots – cue a search for the inevitable missing shoe.
 
"I thought you were just getting a fleece?, not redressing,” Dad mentioned when I joined him in the car.
"That's all I have changed, well and my trainers,” I told him as I pulled the seatbelt into place.
He rolled his eyes, "I don't want to know.”

The car was already ticking over so he put it in gear and we pulled out of the drive. And yes, it was nice and cosy, the heater in full meltdown mode and the heated seat warming my bum.
 
Its not far down to Apollinaris' depot, about seven kilometres and strictly speaking its in Heppingen rather than Bad Neunahr. The good news with that is we can use the bypass which at eight thirty in the morning means we miss most of the morning commute traffic, the only real hold up being the lights where you come off the two six six to join the old road. We pulled into the yard and around to the building allocated to the team a few minutes before nine.

We were not the first to arrive, George's big BMW was already parked alongside Mike the mechanics elderly Opel Manta. Dad pulled in next to the Bee Em and shut her down.

"Can you take your Mother's kit bag in kiddo, I'll be there in a mo.”

Friday, the senior squad have a gym session after lunch which Mum likes to jog down to – weather permitting. I reckon she gets the train down to Neunahr bahnhof and walks from there meself. I grabbed the holdall from the back seat and headed inside leaving Dad to get whatever from the boot space.

"Hello?” I called once I got through the heavy side door – the wind kept blowing it shut on me.

I could hear voices from the general direction of the workshop so I headed that direction, Dad was right, especially after the Saab's heat it felt like a refridgerator in here. I think i've told you about the team facility before, its essentially one of those industrial shed things with a few internal walls to give some office space. I walked down the corridor, past the gym, treatment room, meeting room and George's office before reaching the door into the workshop and bike store.

"Hiya,” I greeted those present.
"Thought we heard someone, wasn't sure with the heater going,” Mike advised, "Long time no see Gaby, take it your Väter is with you?”
"Somewhere behind.”
"You here to work?” George, blunt as ever, asked.
I gave a shrug, "Thats the idea.”

Any further interrogation was deferred as Dad joined us carrying a couple of big boxes.

"Morning.”
"Dave.”
"You brought some help,” George noted.
"All hands as they say,” Dad replied placing the boxes alongside several others with enticing logos on them, Continental, Campagnolo and Selle Italia.
"Now you're here, a quick word before you get started please Dave,” George suggested heading for the door.
"Sure, be right back.”
 
"So Champ, how's life treating you?” Mike asked.
"Okay I guess.”
"Your dad says you're off college for a couple of weeks.”
"Yeah, everyone else is doing work placements so my tutor decided that me commuting to read in the library was a bit daft.”
"You aren't doing a placement?”
"Not this time, apparently the kiosk covers the requirement, so what're we supposed to be doing?”
"Well between now and next Wednesday we've got to turn all these,” he swept an arm towards the pile of boxes, "Into full bikes for the Spanish trip.”
"So what am I doing, unwrapping?”
"Later maybe, first job is checking we've got everything, then I think we'll have you pick the parts while me and your dad start prepping the frames.”
"Sounds cool.”
"First job though, coffee.”

Guess who got the barista job?
 
"Me and your Dad checked the frames yesterday,” Mike advised indicating the stack of boxes each with a name on the end in black marker, Porsche, Boonen, Pinger, Bond and so on, "So we just have to check we have everything else.”
"What if there's stuff missing?”
"Some bits we might have in stock,” Dad advised but worst case, as times a bit short, we've still got last year's bikes to fall back on.”
"So where do we start?”
"You want to get straight onto the frames Mike, me and Gab should rattle through these.”
"Yeah, sounds like a plan.”
 
A few minutes later I was sat next to a mobile heater with the first box from Campagnolo, a delivery note and my ski band snugged over my ears.

"Its probably easiest to get everything out and check it back into the box for now,” Dad suggested.
"Yeah okay,” well he's the boss.

You've heard the expression 'like kids in a sweet shop', well that was me. If you go to a shop to buy stuff it usually comes with all the fancy packaging so I was a bit non plussed that most of the stuff in the box was just in polythene bags. On the plus side that means that you can easily see what stuff is, who needs extra boxes?

So on Dad's suggestion I unpacked all the bags into a mini mountain of plastic, I can admire everything as I check it off. And so it began, rear derraileur type a, check the list, one, chainset, compact, one seventy, check.....Of course each component was admired which didn't exactly speed matters but from a riders point of view, its not often you get the chance to handle individual parts, assess their weight, really check out their form.
Of course, whilst i'd been doing one box, Dad had counted the saddles, tyres, a second box of Campag with chains and cassettes in and a fourth with stuff like stems and seatposts.

"Dad?”
"What kiddo? There's bag under your chair.”
"What? Oh right,” I fished the bag out, another Super Record rear mech, "So what happens with the old bikes, do they get sold?”
"Some teams do that but to be honest, a lot of the parts are pretty knackered at the end of the year. The deal we've got with Pinarello is a sort of sale or return thing, we get an allowance for each frame we send back, I think they refurb them and sell them on. The other stuff we mostly use for spares, we've got a lot of bikes to keep running.”
"Oh.”
"You sound disapointed?”
"Well I was thinking that maybe I could upgrade my bike this year.”
Dad chortled, "Did you hear that Mike, she wants to upgrade this year's bike.”
"Take it you've not told her then,” Mike called back.
"Told me what?”
"It was going to be a surprise for your birthday.”
"Da-ad.”
"Okay, okay. Pinarello are supplying a custom Dogma for you and Vicenza are stumping up a Super Record gruppo, I don't think there's anything to upgrade kiddo.”
"Serious?”
"Straight up, they want to be seen to be used by the best, its good for sales.”
"Is it here yet, can I see it?”
"Whoa, hold your horses, the bikes for Spain come first.”

I sighed, priorities can be so frustrating!
 
"Lunch when I finish this one?” Mike suggested.

Lunch, I checked my watch, twelve thirty, where did all the time go? So okay, we stopped for coffee mid morning, George summoned Dad again not long afterwards but even so, its not like we haven't been hard at it. For the last half hour or so Dad's been showing me the picking list set up – whilst the bikes may look the same, each one is of course customised for each rider, different, bars, saddles, gearing, crank length even, so to save time we'll pick all the non standard stuff this afternoon so Mike can build more quickly without searching for Tina's bars or Mum's saddle as he goes.

"Lunch?”
"You not hungry?” Dad queried with a raised brow.
"Now you come to mention it.”
"How long Mike?”
"Five, just need to seat this race.”
"You want to wash up then kiddo, we'll go up to Simon's”

We took the Saab up into Heppingen, I had to relinquish my usual seat to Mike, well its only good manners right? Simon's it turns out, is the village bakery cum cafe so the menu isn't fancy but does run to a 'dish of the day', soup and the usual standbys of Frikadel, Schnitzel and Würst. Whilst not crowded out, it was certainly busy, the cadre of tradesmen however were mostly take outs so we were able to claim a table without much fuss.

"Hi guys,” the waitress greeted before we'd even got bums on seats, "Usual?”
"Hi Beth,” Mike returned, "Coffee all round, busy today?”
"Yeah, the new housing near the station.”
"What's the Menu?” Dad asked.
"Nudelsuppe and mixed grill.”
"Sounds good to me,” Mike offered.
"Gaby?” Dad queried.
Given that my usual lunch is fruit and a sandwich, "Works for me.”
"Three then,” Dad told 'Beth' who quickly hustled off.

"You guys eat here a lot?”
"Couple of times a week when we're around,” Dad advised.
"Makes up for all the burgers on the autobahn eh Dave,” Mike added.
"Do not tell your mother, she thinks I have a sandwich from the canteen.”
"What's it worth?”
"A look at your new frame when we get back?” Dad suggested.
"Okay, deal!” I grinned.
 
When we got back there were several additional cars parked around the building, of course its the seniors come for their training session. Inside the building, voices were chattering away, the most easily identified being Petra and Kat shouting out instructions. Urgh, that does not sound like fun.

The three of us trekked through the building to the workshop, which was at least warm enough now for me to lose the ski jacket for a bit.

"Where'd you put it Mike?”
"Far corner, its marked WM.”
"Come on then kiddo,” Dad instructed, "Then we need to get on with the picking okay?”
"Yes Dad,” I agreed, following him to another pile of boxes lurking below hooks laden with wheels.

Dad sorted through the boxes, sod's law says it was the last one he checked, he pulled it out then opened the box. I couldn't really see what he was doing but he turned around holding a thick poly bag from which he withdrew a work of art. Lets face it, the Dogma looks great anyhow but this one is mine and instead of the Apollinaris sky blue / cream everyone else will be riding mine is – WOW!

"You like?” Dad queried.
"Not many! Can I?”
"Just be careful with it.”

I said work of art but that hardly describes it. The front end is white then it fades through the Weltmeisterin bands and back to white at the back and whilst they are good solid colours, there's a gold flake in the lacquer so from some angles the frame actually looks gold. Then there's the graphics, Pinarello of course on the down tube, on the seat tube it simply says 'Roskilde 2005' above 'Ontario 2006' with one of those UCI roundels below the former and two below the latter– restrained and very stylish.

"So?”
"Beautiful.”
"They were going to do it over pink,” Dad started, "But we vetoed that.”
"Pink? Are they nuts?”
"They've still got some stereotypes down there,” Pater mentioned, "So, seen enough?”
"I guess.”
 
With two of us doing the picking we soon had all seven sets of stuff picked ready for Mike to build from. The rest of the gear we laid out on the bench next to where Mike would be working so he can just pick them up as needed. For his part, Mike had already completed the frame prep and was doing the waste disposal bit.

"You done Mike?”
"Yeah, enough for one day, you in tomorrow Dave?”
"I expect so.”
"See you soon Gab, thanks for the help.”
"No worries, tschuss.”
"Tschuss.”

Mum was waiting for us outside the meeting room.

"Good day?”
"Well you should have something to ride next week,” Dad advised.
"Thats a relief,” she grinned back, "So you all set for our trip tomorrow kiddo?”
"Shitza! Kris!”

 
© Maddy Bell 03.08.2019