Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
Call me shallow if you like but what with one thing and another, one of the highlights of my year, my birthday, is in danger of slipping by unnoticed. First Mum had to cancel our girly birthday trip to Paris as George brought forward the seniors racing schedule, oh I know we had the day in Bonn but seriously, not the same. Then there's been all the hoo - har with the BlauHase tour, the Kabin and preparations for the Tenerife training camp.

Don't get me wrong, each of them has been important in their own way but on Sunday I turn seventeen and with two days to go I don't know whether I'm having a party, going out for the day or what – a girl likes to know these things. I mean, usually something has been said by someone by now but I guess seventeen isn't as big a deal as sixteen or eighteen. There's just not been a word from anyone, even that dumkopf Max or blabbermouth Thesing, I mean, Connie can't keep a secret to save herself but nada.

"So,” I began as we started the opening process for the Kabin next morning, "Anything happening this weekend?”
"Nothing special I don't think,” Nena shrugged back, "Come on, I want all the details about our 'tour'.”

Doesn't look like I'm gonna get anything out of Nena, if there is anything to get.

"Not that I object Gabs but why Misty?” Nena asked as we waited for our first custom of the day, sipping our 'tester' coffees.
"Dunno,” I admitted, "It just popped into my head and I thought its sounded pretty cool, better than Erdbeere.”
"But that's pretty cool, its not like you meet any other Strawberries is it?”
"Only those dancing ones on the Müller Light™ adverts,” I chuckled.
"Well their singing isn't a patch on you.”
"But they are a bit fruitier,” I suggested.
"Gaby Bond, that is a bit rubbish even for you. So I guess you'll be going pink again?”
"I was thinking i'd get a perücke from the Karneval shop, its only just finished growing out from last time and I kind of like it this colour,” I opined, pulling my braid around to inspect my white blonde tresses.
"Won't a wig be a bit hot on the stage?”
I shrugged, "Its only for like an hour.”
"And the rest,” Nen added.
"Rest?”
"Well you'll need to put it on before and you can't just come off stage and pull it off can you?”
"I guess not, hadn't really thought about it that much.”
"And you'll need to have at least one spare, what about the style, they're usually fixed aren't they?”
"I guess.”
"So maybe, I dunno, three styles, plus spares, thats quite a bit of Geld Gabs.”
"But I don't want to be growing out pink dye for another six months.”
"You could use one like that time Claudia did your hair blue.”

Claudia.

"But that washed out in a couple of days, that'll probably cost as much as the wigs.”
"Hmm,” she mused, "Leave it with me, as your roadie, Misty will come up with a solution.”
"If you say so,” I allowed, "Looks like we've got customers.”
 
And so Friday the twenty third rolled on, a steady, if not huge, stream of customers keeping the pair of us just busy enough to warrant being open. We don't need a huge amount of business to break even but we do need to cover the wages, supplies and utilities, most days we cover that, some we don't. I have to say that a lot of the financial stuff I do understand better now, like why so much gets set aside instead of servicing the loans, I wasn't really sure that hospitality management was gonna be my thing but the more I learn, the more confident I am that its a good career path – once I retire from racing!

 
"You wanting a lift to the TanzKlub kiddo?” Dad enquired when I flopped onto the sofa after delivering his tea.
"Thought i'd go on the Mofa, its not raining or anything.”
"Okay,” he allowed, "You gonna pick up supper on the way back?”
I stuck my hand out, "Can do, what do you want?”
"The usual, you know with the peppers and chicken,” he advised fishing a twenty euro note out of his wallet, "Best check what Amanda wants.”
"The Vegetarian most likely.”
"I thought she'd given up on that?”
"Think its a mood thing, you know, time of the month.”
"Too much information.”
"You did ask, so, we doing anything on Sunday?” I hinted.
"Nothing planned, why?”
"Just wondered, you know with it being MY BIRTHDAY.”
He shrugged, "I guess we could go to the Anker for lunch?”
"I guess,” I allowed with a sigh.

It really is looking like my birthday is gonna be a non event this year.
 
After all the fuss over me getting one, my Mofa doesn't really get used that much. Well it would take forever to ride down to college in Koblenz, longer than on my bike so thats out, the rents aren't keen on me using it if the weather is remotely dodgy so using it this week to go to the Kabin is the most i've used it since I took delivery of the pink peril. But when its dry and my destination is fairly local, its better than taking the Schauff and gives me independence from parent taxis.

I dropped my handtasche over my head, dropped my kitbag in the basket and settled the crash helmet on my head before wheeling my steed outside. Brrr, even with my waterproofs on it felt chilly, I dived back into bike central for my winter gloves, no point in having the stuff if you don't use it right? Being a girly model I am at least spared the kickstart of Max's machine, I turned the key and the tinny motor burst into life, on with the lights and a twist of the accelerator and I was away.

Of course, the few kilometres up to Ahrweiler would be quicker on my road bike, not much slower on the shopper but this way I arrived at Garde without being a sweaty mess. I arrived amidst the flurry of cars dropping off many of the other Garde, having to thread through the traffic to park next to Han's car at the side of the hall. By the time i'd put the lock on and made my way inside I was almost the last to arrive.

"Evening Gaby, Frohes Geburtstag for Sunday,” Hannah offered as I stripped off my all weather outfit.
"Thanks Hannah, at least somebody has remembered,” I bemoaned.
"I can't believe I'm the only one.”
"Well its not so much that they've forgotten but they don't seem to be very interested in the fact.”
"A sign you're getting older maybe?”
"I guess,” I allowed with a sigh, "I remember theirs though.”
"Come on, lets take your mind off birthdays and do some Garde eh?” she chivvied.

Garde of course, is the uniquely German answer to – well its unique! For competitions the 'squad' are all dressed alike, no make that identical, same wig, same makeup, same costume which is weird in itself but the whole thing is weird, all about control and syncronicity whilst performing a series of quasi military marching figures, the sort of thing you might see at some fancy military tattoo. I'm a sort of part time member of the squad, I mainly do it for the exercise so my time all gussied up is thankfully rare, we just wear keep fit type gear for practices.

"Gaby, head back a bit, Fran, your left foot isn't in line,” our coach prompted, "So interlocking wheel on my count, three.”

 
It might not be high speed, all action like cheer or even ballroom but after forty five minutes of holding the poses, slow marching and so on your muscles are screaming, you hurt all over and all you want to do is collapse in a heap.

"Aaaa-nd stop, that was great girls, early next week please, we need to check everyones uniforms so we're ready for the spring series, see you next week.”
"Bleh!” I allowed.
"You need a lift Gab?” Pia asked as we gathered towels and discarded clothing.
"I'm on the Mofa tonight.”
"Sorry we couldn't give you a lift tonight.”
"Not a problem.”
"Happy birthday Gab,” Solde told me as she presented an envelope.
"Thanks, I didn't think anyone would remember.”
"You always remember everyones and Han reminded us last week.” she grinned.

By the time that i'd changed footwear and dressed in the frankly oversized wet suit, I had collected a pile of envelopes and a couple of small packages from the rest of the girls but notably nothing from P. Do I smell a rat? The Angels never pass up a birthday opportunity.

Oh yeah, The Angels, I'm not sure who first called us that but the name has stuck, really we're just a group of friends who do charity type stuff, Me, Con, Nena, Bridget, Steffi, Pia and originally Anna but she's older than the rest of us and not so involved now. Its not just us of course, we sometimes drag a few others in to do stuff, Max and Marty are our usual muscle and a few other girl friends have helped out, even Mand a couple of times. I guess it all started when I was elected Weinkonigen a couple of years back – a story for another day.

Anyhow, Pia's lack of even a card is just plain fishy

I pulled the bungee over the pizza boxes, one Pollo Diablo for Dad, one double Pepperoni for me and Mand's Seafood Spezial. To be honest they looked a bit dodgy and I think they'll need warming up when I get them home – could do with one of those insulated bags that the delivery guys use. Oh well, another check that they were secure and I set off back to Dernau.

We don't always get pizza after Garde or Cheer even if Dad's running taxi but its a nice treat and gets everyone out of cooking. Hmm, my mouth was watering just from the smells in the Pizza shop, I tried upping the speed but my Mofa was already screaming at its restricted limit. Back at Bond Acres I parked my transport and rushed inside with the swag.

"That you kiddo?” Dad's voice enquired.

Well duh, who else would it be?

"Yeah,” I called back, "I'll just warm these back up, its freezing out there.”
"Tables ready.” I was informed.

Guess that means I'm delivery girl, cook and waitress tonight. Pizzas in the oven, I stripped back to indoor wear, set the coffee going and recovered my birthday haul so I could open them with the pizza. The food only needed a quick warm, the coffee was only part done, someone else can fetch that in a bit, I retrieved the boxes and headed into the family room.

 
"There you are, thought you were making them fresh,” Dad suggested.
"You can have yours cold another time,” I huffed as I shuffled boxes to eaters on the dining table.
"No need to be snarky.”
"She's been acting weird all week,” Mand told my Dad, "Think she's 'on'.”
"I am here you know,” I put in, "And I am not 'on'!”
"Oh yes you are,” they both chorused.

Urgh!

"So what's with the post?” Dad went on as I picked up the first envelope.
"Birthday cards from Garde, at least some people remember.”
"You don't need to be like that, its only a birthday for heavens sake,” Mand informed me.

Ooooh!
 
First Pia and now Dad and Mand acting all weird about my birthday, there is definitely something going on, I know, I'll ring Max, he'll know. My pizza was sitting a little heavily, well I ate it a bit quick just to get out of the room, my tablemates carrying on a discussion about next weeks traing camp that apparently didn't need any input from yours truly. I located my Handy and hit the speed dial for my boy friend.

"Von Strechau.”
"Max, its Gab.”
"Wassup?”
"Nothing really, just er, missing seeing you. So what've you been doing?”
"This and that, usual stuff really, you?”
"Been at the Kabin most of the week.”
"Nice,” he replied with little interest in his voice.
"Dad and me met with Stefan yesterday, you know from BlauHase.”
"Oh?”
"We're going on tour at Easter.”

That bit of news certainly seemed to get his head to engage the gears.

"Just you and the band?”
"Hardly,” I told him, "There's a few more going and I'll have my own roadie.”
"I coulda done that,” he stated.
"Wasn't gonna happen, had to be a girl.”
"I coulda pretended.”
"No offense Max but you don't make a very good looking laydee,”
"Not what you said before.”

Look, its a bit embarrasing but I ended up in charge of his costume when he landed a female role for a themed dance we did back in school, he looked sort of okay but convincing, hmm and he's grown since then too.

"I lied,” I suggested into the communication device.
"So who is this girl roadie then?”

Should I? Yeah, why not.

"You won't know her, she's called Misty.”

He seemed vaguely satisfied with that, we spent the next twenty minutes discussing the tour and my part in it before I deemed it time to drop in the real purpose of my call, February the twenty fifth.

"So,” I purred, "Are we doing anything this weekend?”

Okay, I know I spend a lot of time denying that Max and me are anything other than mates but I guess we are a sort of couple even if we've never gone beyond a snog and fumble in the vineyard. We like each other which should be enough but others like to hang labels on things so in the minds of those looking in we are a couple who, in the fullness of time will marry and continue the von Strechau line. As if that's gonna happen.

"This weekend?”
"Well I'm going away next week, after my birthday.”
"Your birthday, right, think i've got you a card here somewhere, guess I'll have to drop it round.”

Urgh!

"So you haven't got anything planned?” I hinted.
"Not unless you count mucking mums horses out in the morning, I could use a hand with that.”
"I. Am. Not. Mucking out pferde!”
"Was worth a try.”

I could almost see him shrug his shoulders across the airwaves.

"So what about you, got anything planned,” he turned the question back onto me.
"Not so's you'd notice,” I mentioned through gritted teeth.
"You fancy meeting up...”

Yes!

“...on say Tuesday, we've got a half day at college so we could catch a burger or something.”
"I'll think about about.”
“'kay, look I need to get off, early start in the stables tomorrow.”
"Whatever.”
"Nite.”
"And you.”

 
Meanwhile there was a fourway call across the Ahrtal.

"You think she suspects anything?” Con asked her co conspirators.
"She kept dropping hints at the kiosk today,” Nena told her friends.
"What about Max?” Bridg queried.
"He is the weak link,” Steffi opined.
"As long as she doesn't actually go to see him he'll be fine.”
"So we got everything organised then?” Con asked the co-operative.
"Ingrid's gonna go fetch Marty and Bernie with the baby,” Steff confirmed.
"Herr Bond is arranging the goose chase to get Sunday lunch,” Nena added, "And Amanda is going to come up with you Con.”
"Okay, what about her sister?”
"I spoke to her yesterday, they're coming up tomorrow to stay with the other parents then they'll drive down Sunday morning,” Steff filled in.
"You have got the other stuff Bridg?”
"Stop worrying Con,” Bridget soothed, "It'll be fine.”
"I hope so, I'm supposed to be her best friend. Oh, did you get hold of Anna Steff?”
"Yeah, she said she'll try.”
"Well if thats Sunday sorted,” Bridg started, "You gonna tell us this news Nen?”
 

And in Schloss Rech the menfolk were doing the lock up rounds.

"You okay Max.” his father asked.
"Fine, well not really fine, all this keeping Sunday from Gabs, if she'd asked directly I would've had to of told her.”
"But she didn't I take it, and you didn't.”
"She's going to kill me!”
"Don't be so melodramatic.”
 
Back in theBond House

I lay in the darkness of my eyrie, staring at the black on black expanse of the ceiling above me. Maybe turning seventeen is of no consequence, Max hasn't got anything planned, Dad and Mand seem to think dinner at the Anker will be treat enough, I couldn't get through to Con and Nena, seemed to be genuine.

It was weird that Pia didn't have a card for me at Garde though, you'd think she would have brought it with her unless she did actually forget or there's something going on. Nah, they'd never get everyone to keep quiet, Max would tell me anything if I ask him.

 
"I spoke to mum earlier, i'll meet her at the airport and we'll drive straight up, her flight lands about thirty minutes before mine.” Jenny told her husband, "You think she suspects anything?”
"She's been dropping some not so subtle hints but no, I don't think she has a clue.”
"Fingers crossed.”
"And everything else,” Dave added.
"Try to get her in something decent, where did you say you were taking her?”
"The Anker.”
"You might need to up the ante or at least make a bit more of it.”
"I'll get Amanda on the case, sure she can convince our daughter to 'make a point' with me.”
"That a boy! I miss you Dave Bond.”
"Likewise Jennifer Bond, likewise.”
 
Maddy Bell © 11.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Somebody's got a mump on,” Mand suggested.
"Hmmph,” I almost growled back.
"Whoa, down tiger!”
"Soz.”
"Do I want to know?”

I waited until we'd rattled over the level crossing and picked up the lane down to Sinzig before giving a response.

"Do you think seventeen is too old to be doing birthdays, you know like presents and parties and stuff?”
"Depends I guess, it's nice to get a few cards I guess, not so sure about the whole party thing, not that i've had one since Juniors.”
"Really?”
"Well not a party per se, did the cinema and burger thing with a couple of friends a couple of years but I think the last time was when I was fourteen.”

We singled out to pass a dog walkers car, its a landstrasse but do they take any notice?

"So you think birthday parties are for kids?”
"Didn't say that well unless you mean jelly and ice cream followed by pass the parcel.”
"Hardly,” I scoffed, "But like i've always had a birthday party I just thought there'd be one this year but everyone is like 'seventeen, here's a card'.”
"But your Dad's taking us to the Anker for lunch yeah?”
"Whoopy do, I don't mean to sound ungrateful but its not a party is it? it'll be the three of us having the same old food, no singing Happy Birthday or dancing or presents.”
"We could sing Happy Birthday,” Mand offered.
"I bet Dad'll even wear his usual scruffs.”
"This really has wound you up hasn't it?”

We swung right onto the old Rhein road, we're doing a flat mile muncher today, down to the Brohl ferry then back up the other side to cross back on the Bad Honningen ferry then back home. Of course, we'll mix it up with some nameboard sprints and some speed work on the run up through Linz so we'll still have a fair session plus it makes a change from Münstereifel or the Nürburgring.

"Its just, well its the once a year that's yours, you're the centre of attention, nothing to do with something you've done or some spurious holiday season, just you. I look forward to it, that rug of sefishness has been pulled out from under me, I don't even get to dress up a bit.”
"Boy, you've got it bad girl.” Mand stated as we cruised along next to the railway line to start our southbound leg.
"Am I right though?” I pressed.
"I guess but there's nothing says you can't dress up tomorrow is there?”
"Guess not.”
"Tell you what, we go the whole nine yards, hair, makeup, posh frocks the lot.”
"Might be a bit much for the Anker,” I suggested.
"Who cares,” Manda enthused, "Its your birthday, if you want to glam up for the day why shouldn't you?”

Well I'm not going to argue with that sentiment.
 
Just over an hour earlier.

"Manda,” Dave hissed towards his house guest, "A minute.”

The young woman came to a stop before calling after her friend, "Catch you up Gab, left my wallet upstairs.”
“'kay,” Bond junior replied from below.

"So what's up Mr B?”
"Tomorrow, we need to make sure my daughter is dressed appropriately, you know what she's like, it'll be jeans and a jumper because we're 'going' to the Anker. If I say anything she'll smell a rat.”
"We talking going out smart or full on party?”
"I'll settle for the first but the second would be better don't you think?”
"I can't wait to see her face, okay I'll try for party.”
"Thanks Manda, if it goes pear shaped I'll get it in the ear from Jen big time.”
"Leave it with me.”

"Mand, are you coming or what?” Gabs voice enquired from the stairwell.

"Coming! Geez, someones desperate to go training.” Mand chuntered.
 
"I thought Dad'd want us doing some hill work, specially with this Mount Teide thing next week.”
"Makes a change coming this way though,” de Vreen suggested.

Yeah and there's no chance you'll see stuff going on up at Pia's either.

"I guess.”

My non-birthday rant over, my mind was tuned more fully to the ride and to where I can pull one over Mand – something that has become more difficult during her time in Dernau as she knows the roads nearly as well as I do. Oh I can beat her in a straight drag race but if she gets the drop on me, well its closer than it used to be.

"You done one of these training camps before?” Mand queried.
"Ut uh, well unless you count the BC stuff, you?”
"The club used to do a weekend pre season thing, down to Bournemouth Friday night then bang around the New Forest Saturday and Sunday before returning to the Smoke. I only got to go once, don't suppose it'll be anything like that in Tenerife though.”
"Knowing George he'll have us out all the daylight hours,” I suggested.
"Well it is supposed to be a training camp,” Mand pointed out, "Not a holiday.”
"Yeah, I guess. Sign!”

I stamped on the pedals, heaved on the bars and made good my escape, keeping the effort going until I passed the yellow name board. I waited until Mand caught back up to me before executing an overplayed chalk up mime.

"I wasn't ready.”
"Not my fault,” I observed, taking the opportunity to take a swig from my bidon.
"Next time Bond.”
"In your dreams.”

And so the tone was set for the rest of the ride, a friendly rivalry interspersed with a diverse narrative of fashion, education, bikes and whats on telly tonight (well thats pretty much the same every Saturday just with a change of seasonal clothing!). Once over the river we started on a few kilometres of concerted bit and bit nearly all the way to the Linz ferry.

We weren't crossing there today so instead of shivering on the jetty waiting for Stadt Linz to do a round trip, we pushed on around the bend to Onkel and in short order reached our crossing point. As luck would have it our arrival and that of the ferry coincided so we were quickly on board and in the shelter to keep the stiff and cold breeze from freezing our extremeties – I needed a wee really but the chances of stripping off doing the deed and redressing before landing were remote.

"We gonna stop?” I hinted as we rolled onto the western shore.
"Guess we can.” Manda agreed.
"Bahnhof okay?”
"Sure.”

We rode up to the main road and the few hundred metres along to the station by which time I was nearly wetting myself. Once there I did a very unladylike dismount and sprinted for the facilities – not easy in road shoes! As I sat, with some relief, on the pot I cursed whoever designed female anatomy for the umpteenth time, why would you make it so awkward and messy to use – it was probably a man.
 

"Geez Gab, you looked like The Roadrunner when you took off, you even did a cartoon turn!” Mand smirked.
"I was desperate,”i allowed.
"I'll let you get the drinks while I go.”

Hmmph, getting her own back for my tricksy sprinting today, five one to Bond.

"And those vanilla puddings look okay,” she hinted as she skipped away.

Its only a small bakery cum coffee shop which fortunately was pretty quiet, I claimed a table with my helmet and gloves before placing our order. Vanilla pudding, think that yellow gloop from a vanilla slice in a sort of flaky pastry Brezel topped with a cherry – sure to be messy but it hits all the pleasure buttons when you're cold and tired at the thick end of a hundred kilo ride. I was just arranging my jacket and gloves to make use of the radiator next to our table when de Vreen clacked in.

"Cheers Gab.”
"You should be buying for me, it is my birthday tomorrow.”
"I'll get them next time,” I was informed as she slipped her own jacket off.
"So what're we going to wear tomorrow,” I started, keen to resurect the birthday theme.
"You could wear that designer thing, you know the white sequins.”
"Bit much don't you think,” I opined.

So okay its a nice frock but February, really? Its not exactly warm.

"Maybe that red velvet one then, you could bling it up with a belt and stuff.”

I had to think for a minute to identify said dress, hmm, a definate contender, some thicker hose, my best stilts, put my hair up, yeah, might work.

"What about you, if I'm going bling you've got to.”
"Of course, I was thinking the green slip and borrow that short black cardi you've got?”
"Sure,” I agreed, I mean its what sisters do, I know we aren't technically sisters but she's like a sister and lives in the same house, well you know what I mean.
 
We didn't drag the stop out too long, only the one coffee, we still have best bit of an hours ride to get home. Outside, the weak winter sun had been chased off by some thicker, more threatening looking cloud, according to the sign by the bahnhof entrance it was all of 1°c but felt colder. I was tempted to put my race cape on but decided to brave out the first few minutes ride and save it for if it really does need it.

Once clear of the town we jumped onto the cycle path, a nice wide and recently resurfaced ribbon of tarmac all the way down to Remagen. In the summer it can be quite congested with walkers and tourist bikes but on a cold late February Saturday afternoon we had it almost to ourselves. Our tyres hummed, the transmissions almost silent, the stiff breeze behind us, it was a joy to be awheel.

Past Remagen Bahnhof then out by the Schauff factory to pick up the lane into the Ahrtal. Instead of looping left to Sinzig and retracing our outward route we joined the old Ahrweiler road that would take us past the Apollinaris factories, well its easier than threading through Saturday shoppers in Bad Neunahr! The bypass isn't brilliant on a bike, especially when the skies start dripping as they had now, a fine drizzle, not enough to bother caping up for at this point and anyhow we were soon through Silverberg and on the last leg home through the gorge.

"You miss it?”
"Eh?”
"Your old school,” Mand expanded.
"The Gymnasium? A bit I guess, why?”
"Just curious, you always look down that way when we come through.”
"I do? Never thought about it, we had some good times there I guess, some epic trips and parties. What about you, your school in England that is.”
"I don't miss the school, to be honest it's a bit of a dump but there were some good teachers and I had a couple of good friends.”
"You still in contact?”
"Nah, not really, I saw Jas at Christmas, I don't think she even recognised me.”
"Bummer.”
"I've got new friends now. up in Bonn and here in the valley so its no biggy.”
"Last sign?” I suggested, we don't always go for the Dernau sign but it just felt right today.
In reply she shouted "Go” and got the jump on me!

And so I lost my last sprint as a sixteen year old, I still won for the day five to two so the Sprintmeisterin does it again. Yup, I'm sixteen for just another ten hours or so, if my seventeenth year is only half as exciting I'll be happy. We trundled through the village and were soon back at Schloss Bond.
 

"So?” Dave queried catching Amanda on her way upstairs.
"Beat me five two.”
"Not that, dress?”
"Oh that, all sorted, you might want to not wear jeans though,” Manda suggested.
"All in hand, ot oh, here she comes.”

"What are you two whispering about?” I queried as I climbed the last steps from the cellar.
"I was just telling your dad that you got me on sprints again.”
"Five two,” I gloated.
"So what're we having for dinner tonight?” Dad asked.
"Its only two o'clock,” I pointed out.
"I like to have something to look forward to.”

Yeah right.

"I think theres stuff for a stew, you could do some taters,” I hinted.
"You want to invite Max down? He likes a good stew and dumplings,” Dad proposed.
"I guess I could, seeing as he hasn't got anything else planned,” but no nose ring.
 

"So erm, Dad was asking if you fancied coming down for dinner?”
"That should be okay, whats on the menu?”

Maximillian von Strechau, poster child for 'the way to a mans heart is through his stomach'.

"Whateverthereis stew.”
"That Polish or something?”
I rolled my eyes, "Definately something.”
"So what time do you want me?”

Well unless you pick up the game boyo, never.

"It'll be on the table about six.”
"I'll bring your card down, see you later.”

Gee thanks caring boyfriend I look forward to it.

"Later.”
 

Of course there is stew and stew, British stew usually has a more soupy gravy and of course suet dumplings, the Germans favour a heavier sauce and potato dumplings as well as a spicier flavour. I surveyed the contents of the larder and vegetable rack, then checked the freezer down in the bike store, scoring a bag of frozen leeks and another of stewed rhubarb – well you want pudding right? Back upstairs I collected the rest of the components together and started on making an epic Gaby stew.
 

"Half an hour!” I yelled to no one in particular before clumping upstair to my nest, the eyrie under the eaves.

Thats one good thing with stew and crumble for that matter, you can stick them on a low heat and they won't come to any harm. Indeed, the meat, scrag of lamb today, will be better the longer its simmering away. I'll drop the dumplings in for ten minutes when I go back down.

I slipped my jeans and sweatshirt off as I contemplated what to wear for dinner – I know it sounds a bit Mrs Bucket, I wouldn't've changed if Max wasn't coming but even if he's in the doghouse I felt I should make a bit of effort. But how much? Denim skirt and top – maybe too casual, certainly not a posh frock, no somewher in between, I started going through my wardrobe with no more idea than when I came upstairs.
 

Eventually I compromised on a knitted jumper dress, dark blue with a cowl neck and applique flowers on the top with red tights and my old Mary Janes that I used to use for school. As I descended to the ground floor I could hear that Max had arrived and apparently not alone.

"There you are kiddo,” Dad stated the obvious when I reached the living room, look who's here.”
"Gabee!”

I was suddenly engulfed by Soph or to give her her full name, Sophia Thun und Taxis, Max's cousin.

"Er Soph, what are you doing here?”
"We're staying at Max's, you know what daddy is like with paying for hotels, when Maxxie said he was coming to see you I just had to come too, I hope you don't mind.”

I've been friends with Soph for a couple of years despite her being a Dukes daughter and me not, she can be a bit of a ditz sometimes but she's okay and we've had an adventure or two. So why would I mind?

"No problem, its only stew but there's plenty of it.”
"I um, got you this,” Max interjected when his cousin released me.
"Er thanks,” I took what looked very much like a box of Ferrero Rocher hurriedly wrapped and an envelope.

The following kiss was a bit embarrasing, think junior school disco, in, slobber, out.

"I er just need to finish the food, Mand, gis a hand eh.”

"She's a bit full on eh,” Mand chuckled.
"Yeah,” I agreed, "Wonder what they're up here for?”
"Think she said it was some family thing, probably deciding who's gonna be the next King of Bavaria.”
"Don't even joke about it, they are close relatives to the Kronprinz.”
"I was only joking Gab, you don't need to get so serious.”
"You're right,” I agreed dropping the dumplings into the stew pot, "You want to take the soup bowls out.”

Normally i'd just take the stew pot through but there is no way I'm doing that with Soph here, i'd look like a right pleb, Mum'd go ballistic if she found out. I'm not a snob, I'm not, but you have to have standards, thats something Lisbet is keen on, standards. A quick rummage through the crockery cupboard located the big tureen which of course needed washing then I ended up using a mug to ladle the stew from pot to tureen as I couldn't lift the pot, urgh!

"You okay kiddo?” Dad's voice enquired from the kitchen door.
"I am now, could you take this through, I don't want to drop it.”
"Sure,” he agreed coming in to collect it.
"Its hot,” I warned, "Use this.” I passed him a tea towel, "Did you know the Taxis were here?”
"Not until Max arrived,” Dad admitted.
"I'll bring the potatoes, don't want it getting cold.”
"Yes milady.” Dad hammed.
 
Maddy Bell © 13.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"How's the stew?” I enquired once everyone had food in front of them – well a chef likes to know.
"I'm glad I'm not veggie any more,” Mand stated.
“'s really good,” Max informed us.
"The dumplings, they are not potato?” Soph suggested.
"Ut uh, nope one hundred percent beef suet, proper dumplings!”
"You are so clever Gaby, Mama despairs at my cooking,” my noble friend informed us.
"Not everyone is gifted like Gabs, right Max?” Mand hinted.
"Mand!” I complained, "Dad?”
"Don't drag me into it kiddo.”
"You should see her roast dinners,” Max told his cousin, "Whoever said English food was boring was lying.”
"Maybe one day you should cook for the Family Gaby.”

I didn't like the sound of 'Family', knowing this lot 'Aunt Liz' would be there, you know, the Queen.

"Er sure, we could do that sometime.”

Well if I do say so myself, its difficult to beat a good lamb stew, most people favour beef or chicken these days but with the right veggies and my secret extras – well okay not really secret, a bit of pearl barley and 'erbs, you get a really flavoursome meal. If Sophia hadn't been here I would've been a bit less ladylike in my eating but I don't want to look too much like the peasant that I am. Not only that but I'm looking forward to the rhubarb and ginger crumble bubbling away in the kitchen!
 

"Urgh, I couldn't eat another thing,” Max advised sitting back from the scraped clean dessert dish.
"You didn't have to have seconds,” Sophia pointed out, "Although it was rather good.”
"One of your best kiddo,” Dad added.

If I was blushing earlier, well the dial was now turned to eleven.

"Come on Max, time to earn your dinner,” Mand told my BF as she started collecting crockery, "Thanks for dinner Gab.”
"Er right, I'll er make some coffee,” I suggested.
"Now coffee, Gabs is the master barista,” Max blathered having finally got Manda's hint.
"Max!”
 

Now don't get me wrong, I love Soph to bits but apart from being the same gender we don't really have a great deal in common, maybe that's what attracts us to each other, we aren't competing, our two worlds really are pretty far removed from each other. I guess our one other common denominator is some sort of relationship with the von Strechaus, she by family ties, me by boyfriend. Of course, any thoughts of romance this evening had been scuppered by the presence of Sophia – not that von Strechau was in my good books anyhow.

"Thanks for dinner Gaby,” Soph told me as we exchanged a parting hug, "See you tomorrow.”
"Tomorrow?” I queried as we parted.
"I er said you might come up tomorrow afternoon,” Max interrupted.
"First i've heard,” I noted giving him a look.
"Well I was just going to ask now.”
"That's right, he said he was going to ask you tonight,” Soph added.
“'kay,” I allowed, "Dad's taking us to the Anker for lunch, guess I could come afterwards.”
"Er yeah, that'd be great,” Max told me, "Well goodnight Gab, “ he dived in for another codfish kiss, "Best not keep your dad waiting.”

I watched as they departed, Max whispering to Sophia as they departed. There is something weird going on, Max has been quiet all evening – perhaps thats just because he was outnumbered? Sugar, if the Taxis are here I wonder who else from their clan is here for this 'meeting'? Maybe I'll ring Max in the morning, tell him i've changed my mind.
 

February twenty fifth, normally i'd be a jumping bean on my birthday morning, the expectation of cards, prezzies and of course, a party. I might not like it but i've sort of reconciled myself to not having the latter and, almost certainly, a scaling down of the other two. So yay for me, I'm seventeen.

"Morning,” I allowed joining the rest of the household in the kitchen where the smell of bacon pervaded the air, still dressed in my PJ's.
"Happy Birthday kiddo,” Dad gave me a peck on the forehead, "You want coffee?”
"Er yeah, please.”
"Frohes Geburtstag Gabs!” Mand told me, "Here, from me.”

She handed me the obligatory envelope and a small parcel.

"Cheers Mand, at least somebody thinks its worth celebrating.”
"There's more on the side but first, breakfast, full English okay?” Dad queried.

Really?

"Er sure.”

Well that doesn't mean I can't open Mand's contribution does it? I scrabbled the pink paper open and slid out the contents.

"Aw, cheers Mad,” I enthused as I inspected the model car and caravan, one of those Amazon Volvo's and period holiday trailer. It was on my to get list and I think I did bore her with my enthusiasm when I saw it on the cover of the model magazine the other week.
 

Well if not a princess, I did get the sort of house guest treatment, the coffee was passable and even Mand's toast was only slightly charred. Between them they had produced a fair facsimile of a Full Monty1, the only thing missing was black pudding but getting hold of that in Germany is like searching for the Holy Grail!

"We are still going to the Anker?” I asked as I helped myself to more toast.
"Sure,” Dad agreed, "Just thought i'd cut the bill by feeding you up first.”

If he hadn't been grinning I might've believed that.

The pile of envelopes and prezzies was, sadly underwhelming, I guess things really have been scaled back. A card and fifty euros from Jules and Boris – well they are students with a family on the horizon, but more disapointing were similar envelopes from Gran and Mum. Of the remaining stuff, there was swag from Ally and Maddy back in Warsop, a brooch from Al and an Anime DVD from my cousin. The only other parcel was from Gramps and Nana Bond over in Somerset, a rather nice necklace and matching drop earrings.
 

"So,” Mand started as we loaded the dishwasher (you didn't think we use the sink did you?) "We still dressing up for lunch?”

Whilst my position has softened towards Dad a bit, I'm still not happy.

"You betcha, especially if I'm going up to the Schloss later, I don't want to be shown up.”
"Yeah, right.”
"You dressing up too?”
"What sort of friend would I be if I didn't support your stand?”
"An ex friend?”

"Daa-ad?” I bellowed into the house.
"You don't have to shout,” he replied from the hallway.
"What time are we going to eat?”
"You've only just had breakfast,” he pointed out.
"Well duh, I need to get dressed and stuff, I'm hardly going out like this am I?”
"I wouldn't put it past you,” he mumbled.
"So what time?”
"Twelve? That okay for Madam?”

I checked the clock, hmm two hours just over, should be time enough.

“'kay.”
"And daughter mine, tidy please.”
"I'm always tidy.”
"Thats what I'm afraid of, twelve o'clock then, I'll be in the bike cave.”

And so we each retired to our respective boudoirs, I'll get Mand to do her hairdressing bit once I'm ready.
 

Okay, so I know what I said to Mand yesterday but I tried on the red dress and I just wasn't feeling it so guess what, yup, I found myself pulling out my absolute best frock, the D&G sequins. I did compromise though, instead of the ten den hose I usually wear with it I dug out a pair of hundred glossy opaques, with my best shoes on I reckon I'll look well sophisticated – well I will after my tresses have been teased into some sort of order.

"You decent?” Mand asked from beyond my door.
"As I get, its open.”

The portal opened and Mand came in looking very chic in her green frock, what I do with posh frocks, she manages with a few bits of bling.

"So, can I borrow that cardi? I didn't think you were wearing that?”
"This old thing? Thought i'd give it another outing and the red, was so not birthday.”
"Geez Gab, you make everyone else look like twenty watts in that thing.”
"I thought that was the idea. Cardi's on my bed.”
"Cheers,” she paused halfway across the room, well okay two steps, its not exactly a big space, "Be right back.”

Huh?

She darted back downstairs leaving me none the wiser as to what she was up to. Oh well, I'm sure I'll find out, my new birthday jewellery seemed to work well with the dress so I dug out a pair of tiny pearl studs for my outer holes. Hmm, something else, I know, instead of my usual diamond nose stud, I slipped the gold ring in its place but blinged up with a tiny pearly bead – yeah sophistication with a bit of roar, at least in my dreams.

De Vreen burst back into the eyrie, "Here, you can wear this over the top, keep you a bit warmer.”
"What is it?” I asked looking at the handful of shimmery black nylon that she thrust into my hand.
"I think its supposed to be a sexy dressing gown.”
"You can see through it.”
"I think that's the idea Blondie.”
"Oh right,” I allowed shaking it out.

It really was quite sheer, like thin tights but not stretchy and rather than the black I first took it for it was actually a deep purple and very shiny.

"Go on, it'll keep you a bit warmer.”
"If you say so.”

I slipped the garment on, the sleeves only came to just below my elbows but it was long enough to just about reach my knees, not that it would stay there as it had no closure device. To be honest, I wasn't totally convinced when I looked in the mirror, I could just put a proper coat on but I kept it on as Mand was making approving noises. Yeah, downgrade my birthday at your peril.

“'s'pose you want something doing with your hair?”
"Pretty please?” I tried to look cutesy, not sure if it was working though.
She sighed, "Up or down?”
"I was thinking up but that was the red dress and it is February so maybe down would be better?”
My self appointed hair technition just rolled her eyes, "Sit.”
 

Dave snagged Amanda's elbow as she followed his daughter into the family room.

"I know I said dress but isn't this a bit OTT?”
"Don't shoot the messenger, you said dress, you got dress.”
"I'd best get the shotgun out.”

Mand couldn't suppress her giggle at that.

There was certainly no question, if there ever really was, Gabrielle Bond would make heads turn today. After some debate, they settled on re-cutting her fringe and blunt cutting it straight at the back, only taking off about five centimetres which was barely noticeable once they'd had the straighteners to it. Red lippy and more dramatic eye makeup and the innocent sixteen year old was replaced by the sophisticated seventeen year old version.

"Come on then, lets go.”
 

They were past Ahrweiler when Dave slapped the Saab's steering wheel.

"Damn, I knew i'd forgotten something, just need to make a short detour to pick something up girls.”
"Sure,” Gaby replied from her unusual position next to her father.
"Go for it Mr B,” Amanda told him from behind.
 

"Where're we going?” I asked after Dad had made the longest U turn in history and started back towards Dernau.
"Up to the place where the Thing is.”

What?

"Yeah, it wouldn't do to forget the Thing,” Mand joined in the nonsense from beside me.

Is it just me or have I fallen into a different dimension?

To be honest, I wasn't really paying that much attention to where we were going, having decided to confirm this afternoons 'play date' with Max so I hardly noticed when Dad got out of the car.
 

"How we doing Connie?” Dave asked when his daughters friend finally picked up.
"Just waiting for Frau Bond Mr B, she rang to say they'd be about ten minutes late so they should get here any time. How is it your end? She hasn't twigged?”
"I'm running out of delaying tactics, might make another ten minutes.”
"Hang on,” Con muttered to someone else then came back, "Your wife is here, we'll be ready in five.”
'Never again,' Dave allowed under his breath.
"What was that?”
"We'll see you then.”
 

"Von Strechau.”
"Dur!”
"Oh its you Gab, er happy birthday.”

I could hear a murmuration in the background, no doubt the countless relatives up for the weekend.

"Thanks, so this afternoon, I guess I'm up for it, I'll get Dad to drop me off after lunch, if we ever get there.”
"Right, so where are you now?”
"Back in Dernau I think,” I aldvised looking out at the lane Dad had pulled up in, "Dad gets all the way to Ahrweiler then remembers he's got to collect something back here.”
"So what time do you reckon?” Max queried.
I checked my watch, "Maybe two thirty?”
"That should be okay.”
"I'll ring if its different,” I offered, "Best go, Dad's coming back, tschussie!”
"Tschussie.”

"So did you get it?” I asked as Pater got back in the car.
"Eh?”
"The Thing, that we came back for?”
"Not here, I forgot its at the other place.”
"Do we have to get it now?” I moaned.
"I promised George, it won't take long.”

Whatever.

For some reason he made a big deal of turning the car around in the lane, I'm sure if he just went to the end you can get out by the Penny markt. Eventually we ended up exactly there, about fifty metres from where we started, but then we turned to join the valley road towards Rech. Unlike Mum, Dad does usually drive within the limits but today he was in danger of setting a new slow time up to the next village.

"What've we come here for?” I asked when he pulled into the Sebenschuh's driveway.
"The er, Thing is here.”
"Great, we could've come straight....what the?”

I'd looked forward, through the windscreen as we came to a stop to be confronted by a stripey marquee and a huge posse of people.

"Think we found the Thing,” Mand suggested.
My door popped open, when I turned I found Max, in his best Landeskostum, holding the door for me, "If you'd please madam.”
"But, I just spoke to you, at the schloss.”
"Yes and no, come on, your court awaits.”
"What about the Anker?” I asked the back of Dad's departing head.
"Never gonna happen,” he called back.
"Get on with it Bond,” Mand chivvied.
"Okay, I'm moving.”

As Max led me towards the throng to the strain of 'Happy Birthday' from some tinny sound system I felt a right prawn. Here I am, dressed up like the dogs dinner with the intention of showing Dad up at the Anker after complaining about the lack of 'birthdayness' for half the last week and in front of me are half the valley who have apparently been plotting this surprise celebration behind my back. Hang on.

"Max?”
"Hmm?”
"The Taxis, Soph and her rents, they aren't here for a family thing are they?”
"Well you are almost family, I thought Sophia had blown it last night though.”
It suddenly clicked, "The late invite to yours.”
"Its was all I could think of, smile.”

And there everyone was, my girl friends, most of Apollinaris juniors, girls from the TanzKlub, the Preiser's, yep, the Taxis family, my sister, Boris, oh my god, Mum and thats Gran. Of course I lost it at that point, yep one hundred percent blubbing machine, Max's jacket was only saved by the timely intervention of Gran taking over the hugging duties.

"W, w, why? How?” I finally got out.
"Lets just say you have lots of friends who love you very much.”
"I feel so stupid,” I admitted.
"You look like some superstar model,” Gran opined, "Come on, I don't know about you but these old bones do feel the cold, lets get in the tent.”
“'kay, how's my makeup?”
She stood back and looked at me, "It'll do, like the fringe by the way.”

Sometimes the most bizarre thoughts go through your head and this was one of those times. If we aren't eating at The Anker where are we eating?
 
Maddy Bell © 15.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
It was warmer inside the marquee, several of those patio heater things were blasting away and in addition the draperies along the 'walls' and slung from the ceiling added an extra layer of insulation from the February air. Of course, as guest of honour everyone wanted to exchange greetings, steal kisses and bestow platitudes so i'd been in the tent for about half an hour before the grey matter got into gear.

I had done the meet and greet so spotting Dad talking to Mum, I excused myself from Con's parents and slipped over to them.

"Hey birthday girl, you okay?” Mum queried.
"Yeah fine, I don't know who's responsible, I didn't think anyone was interested, when Dad said we were eating at the Anker I thought that was it, we never were going to Kripp were we?”
"Nope,” Dad grinned, "We've been planning this for weeks.”
"Not that I'm complaining but why the marquee, I'm sure we'd all fit in the Stube.”
"That was the original plan,” he allowed, "But things got a little more, er ambitious so Helmut talked to his Lion's friends and so here we are, Schloss Gabrielle.”
"I'm just amazed everyone kept it a secret.”
"You and me too,” he observed.
"So why do we need the extra space?”
"For the entertainment of course,” Max advised coming to join us, "Herr, Frau Bond, if I may?”
"All yours Max,” Dad told my boyfriend.
"Hey, don't I get a say?”
"Nope,” Max stated placing my arm in his, "Come, we're on a tight schedule.”
"Whatever,” I sighed with a theatrical eye roll.

I was led through the assembled masses, really, there must be like at least a hundred people in the tent, I digress, Max led me to the far end where there was a small stage. So okay, a short designer frock isn't intended for climbing so I found myself hoisted by Max and Jules' Boris onto said stage and to a 'throne' about which Bernie and Con were waiting.

"If her majesty would care to be seated,” Con hammed.
"Bit over the top,” I opined under my breath.
"Just sit Bond.”
"Okay.”

No sooner was I perched on the seat than I spotted Drea toddling across the platform . Of course, by now everyone's attention was on the stage and the toddlers appearance, in a pretty party frock and carrying a tray with what appeared to be a tiara on it, had the result you might expect. Yep, more Aw's, isn't she cute's and similar observations than pebbles on a beach so whilst this afternoon is for me, Drea Preiser has stolen the show.

"There's a good girl,” Bern, the proud parent beamed.
"Fo tante Gaby,” the toddler announced.
"For me?” I asked leaning forward.

Of course, like most two year olds in this scenario, she then got a dose of shy although she did manage a nod. Bern rescued the tiara which was plonked on my head, but not before I scooped her daughter into my lap.

"Pwincess,” I was informed around a thumb, the other hand pointing to my new adornment.

Geez, even my 'niece' is at it.
 

The 'crowning' over, Max got everyones attention with the aid of a screechy PA system.

"Hello everyone, thank you all for coming and for keeping today a secret from the Ahrtal's very own Prinzessin, Gaby Bond.”

He paused for the polite applause before continuing.

"So, Gabrielle Andrea Bond, Gaby to her friends, has touched all of our lives, she has as the English say, a finger in many pies. Yes, not just a pretty face but a great frite Cheferin so should her Radrennerin career falter she can always get work at MacDonalds™!”

Okay it was a reasonable attempt that did elicit a few chuckles but Max, stick to engineering!

"When we started planning this it was just going to be a few friends, some food, maybe some wine but at each turn people wanted to be involved in celebrating our Prinzessin's seventeenth birthday. So instead of Marty's mobile disco, sorry Mart, maybe later eh, instead of that we have a sort of cabaret in honour of 'our Gabs'.

We won't take up too much of your time ladies und gentlemen, the food is, I'm told, on its way. So Gaby Bond, Prinzessin of the Ahrtal, sit back and enjoy our little 'Gabfest'.”

There was more applause, I had to clap with Drea of course, she does like clapping for some reason.

Max descended from the stage to be replaced by Manda, Josh, Darren and Tali, all looking a bit nervous as well as silly with crash helmets on with their 'party' clothes. The audience stilled, there was an air of expectation, then the first chords of Queens Bicycle Race came over the PA. I, for one, was not expecting the actually quite funny karaoke interpretation of Freddy's lyrics by my team mates.

I'm pretty sure their antics would have got to at least round two of 'Germany has Talent', certainly, this afternoons audience were appreciative of their efforts and I joined in, with Drea of course, in the enthusiastic applause when they finished. Goodness knows when they practised, its not like they live near each other is it? Have to ask Mand later.
 

That sort of set the tone for what followed, we were 'treated' if thats the right word, to a short skit by my girl friends which was embarrasing to say the least as they 'dramatised' some of my 'finest' moments of the last year, Nena wearing a pink wig taking the part of yours truly. It was of course tongue in cheek, well I hope it was, we were treated to the Weinachtsmarkt, my cycle racing success and my musical career amongst other hi-lights. When they closed with a distinctly tuneless rendition of 99 'Balloons everyone was in stitches.

For some inescapable reason, Max recited 'Ode to a Summers Day' before being replaced by the All Star Cheer girls – well most of them. I recognised the new routine we've been working on but about halfway through they went from the high octane tumble to what was clearly a stick poke at the Garde. After a comical shuffling wheel and even more comical line out they ended things with a chant and a Folies style kick splits which had the tent cheering quite loudly.

I was still clapping with my niece when the music started, real instruments rather than taped. Yep, somehow i'd missed seeing Stefan and the guys arrive on the stage, I hope they don't play anything too, er, dodgy!

I needn't've worried, they ran through a short instrumental set, ELO's Mr Blue Sky, Ingwendie from Nena, Rockin' All Over The World, a Quo favourite and lastly, Queens Lazing on a Sunday. Once again there was cheering from the floor before Stefan stepped up to the microphone.

"Hello everyone, BlauHase don't usually play birthday parties but we thought we'd make an exception for our lead singer, Erdbeere. I think maybe, well I hope, there's a large beer resting on this, if we sing Frohes Geburtstag we might get her to join us in a couple of numbers, Erd?”

What could I say?

"Er okay, nothing too interesting,” I hinted looking down at Drea who was now picking at the flowers on her dress.
"Done.”

Marty rescued me from Drea and I tottered across the stage on my heels to where Stefan was waiting. It was pretty weird to have the BlauHase frontman lead the singing of Happy Birthday, the audience of friends, Dukes, family and protogés joining in with some gusto.

"Hip, hip.”
"Hooray!”
"Hip, hip.”
"Hooray!”
"Hip, hip.”
"Hooray!”

From somewhere another mic appeared in my hand, I think it was Max, I tapped it to get everyones attention.

"Hi everyone, thank you all for coming, I hope it hasn't been too excrutiating, I promise revenge on the organisers! I must admit, the shroud of secrecy and misdirection was really effective, I was convinced, right until Dad pulled up outside, that my birthday celebration this year would be a pub lunch, so well done everyone. And just thank you, I know some of you have made long journeys to be here, I feel honoured that you think I'm worthwhile making the effort for.

Some of you already know, but in case you don't, BlauHase are going on tour in a few weeks and yes I'm going along too, not sure why, someone mentioned singing?” I gave a shrug and looked over to the band who all shrugged in reply.

"Well I guess we can give it a throw, but I'll warn you, I'm hungry now and I think I can smell pommes.”

Hey, even I can try a joke or two.

I looked over to Stefan, "Amerika?”

He nodded in reply and I prepared myself for a rendition of the popular Nena tune.

Our impromptu set ran to four songs, Amerika, Animal only had his snare so Bo Rap was a bit tinny but we smashed Caroline and ended on Luftballons, I didn't think this audience was ready for raw BlauHase!
 
"Thank you for being so patient and again I'm honoured that you all came. I'd like to finish with something special for my Gran who flew here from England just for the party, I know this is one of her favourites, its not hard rock, or even soft rock, please, if you know the words, join in. Gran, this is for you.”

I stood to gather myself, the rest of BlauHase didn't know what I was doing so I was doing this unaccompanied.

"Edelweiss, edelweiss
Every morning you greet me

Small and white
Clean and bright
You look happy to meet me

Blossom of snow
May you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever.”

By the second verse there were a few mumbling along in German and the band were providing a bit of accompaniment too.

Edelweiss, edelweiss
Bless my home-land forever

Small and white
Clean and bright
You look happy to meet me

Blossom of snow
May you bloom and grow
Bloom and grow forever

Edelweiss, edelweiss
Bless my home-land forever.”

Well I couldn't help myself, I know it might seem a bit fuddy duddy to like the film, so shoot me, well not literally of course. Anyhow I segued straight into my favourite which seemed appropriate given the occasion.

"I am sixteen going on seventeen
I know that I´m naive
Fellows I meet may tell me I´m sweet
And willingly I believe

I am sixteen going on seventeen
Innocent as a rose
Bachelor dandies, drinkers of brandies
What do I know of those

Totally unprepared am I
To face a world of men
Timid and shy and scared am I
Of things beyond my ken

I need someone older and wiser
Telling me what to do
You are seventeen going on eighteen
I´ll depend on you”

So okay its only the second half but its really a duet.
 
By the time i'd finished Dad had joined me on the platform and simply pulled me into a hug.

"That was lovely kiddo,” he whispered.
"Thanks Dad, sorry I've been a brat this week.”
"You're forgiven,” he then addressed those gathered, "Just to add to what my daughter said, thank you all for coming and the food is waiting, enjoy!”
 

"That was lovely and unexpected Gaby, thank you,” Gran told me, meeting me as Dad lowered me from the stage.
"Yeah, well,” I managed before being dragged into another hug.
"Come on, I'm hungry even if you aren't, lets see what we can find eh?”
 

I'd already smelt the Pommes of course but the catering did run to a bit more than fried potato. It was a buffet of course but a Smörgasbord of tastes, lasagne, salad stuff, roast potatoes, the French Fries of course, mini schnitzels, a nice cream of cauliflower soup – well a good variety and there seemed to be plenty too. Tempting as it was to load my plate it did occur to me that a) it wasn't very ladylike, b) i'd split my frock and c) there must be cake somewhere. C is very important at a birthday party so I did restrict myself to just two small roasties and only one ladle of soup,

"Caught ya!”

I jumped and nearly dropped my plate.

"Don't do that,” I complained.
"Couldn't resist,” Mand stated.
"Clearly, so how much of all this is you?”
"A bit, it was a group project.”
"So the whole, 'lets dress up for lunch thing', you knew all along?”
"Guilty, look I'm sorry, I was under orders to get you poshed up.”

I used the last bit of roast tater to mop up the bit of lasagne sauce that was left.

"So, where's the cake then?”
"Cake! Sugar, I knew there was something else.”
"You are kidding?”
"Course I'm kidding, I came to fetch you for the cutting, come on.”
"Lead on er de Vreen!”
 

Of course, I'm seventeen now so no sickly sponge cake with pink icing and Haribo's, ut uh, nope the dessert course was an impressive version of a Lubbecker Bombe. How to describe it? Well think of half a beach ball covered in chocolate, in this case the white variety, underneath is a layer of marzipan, then cream, another of vanilla and all sat on a bed of sponge cake – you actually make it upside down. Obviously one wasn't going to go far so there was a table groaning under a load of mini bombes for the other guests.

I did the ceremonial cutting, claiming a good portion of the sickly confection – I'm allowed, its my birthday! I was pretty glad to finally sit again, what with all the handshaking earlier and then the impromptu mini concert, my feet were not happy with the heels.
 

"So Sis, seventeen huh,” Jules stated plonking herself next to me on the edge of the stage.
"Yup, guess its all downhill from here.”
"Cynic.”

I spooned another dollop of cake into my mouth, ooh, yum-meee.

"So, how are you?”
"Okay I guess,” she allowed.
"Thought you'd be showing by now.”
"Not yet, well not when I'm dressed at least, so you're doing the BlauHase tour? Didn't think you were going to?”
"Nor did I, it was Dad who changed my mind.”
"Really? Thought he'd be dead set against it.”
"Me too, in truth I don't think he's a hundred percent happy but Nen's coming with as chaperone so it should be a laugh.”
"That's probably what he's afraid of.”
"We can look after ourselves.”
"What about, you know, college, racing and Max?”
"Its Easter break and Dad's lined up a race on the bands rest day so no escape eh, as for Max, well we've not exactly talked about it yet.”
"All worked out then Sis.”
"Dunno about that, I know I'm no Madonna but I can carry a tune and I might never get the opportunity again, its not a career path i've exactly been chasing is it? Nope, I think Dad's right, its an opportunity to experience a different world to the school / college / racing that i've been wrapped up in for like five years.”

"You know i've sometimes hated you for that, for the connection you have with Dad and being Mum's little protogé on two wheels, the perfect daughter, unlike me.”
"Is that really how you see me?”
She paused to consider her reply, "Sometimes yes, when Mum gets into full on Gaby fan club mode..”
"But,” I interrupted.
"No let me finish,” she cut back in, "I get that she's proud of you, who wouldn't be, heck, I'm proud of you and I know that you've worked hard to achieve everything but i've worked hard too but all we ever seem to do is argue, dyeing my hair, moving in with Boris, getting pregnant, okay so that last one wasn't exactly planned but its like I'm the anti Gaby, Gaby wouldn't do this, Gaby wouldn't do that.“
"I'm far from perfect,” I scoffed, "I've done stuff.”
"Which makes it worse, you dye your hair and its 'doesn't she look cute', I do it and its 'what did you do that for?'”
"But..”
"No Gab, i'm reconciled that I'll always be the rebel, the 'other' daughter, I used to resent your fame but now, well its kinda cool not to be famous too, and you are great bragging at the Student Uni.”

"Done? what I was gonna say Jules, is that you've outdone me, come July you'll be all she'll be talking about, you're giving her not one but two grandchildren. So okay, maybe the timing isn't the best but you've moved from rebel daughter to expectant parent, I think I'll always be the overachieving younger sibling.”

Before I knew it, I was dragged into a firm hug, "Gaby Bond, don't ever change.”
 
Maddy Bell © 17.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
Well you know how these things go, once the guests have been fed and entertained things tend to get a bit, well bitty. Today was to be no different, a contingent of mostly teenage women had the dance floor, the music from the PA a most definate family pop mix. The adults, I know, define adult, okay the older guests, were doing the social schmoozing bit armed with alcohol and occasionally plates of food.

"There you are,” Gran observed.
"Here we are,” Jules agreed.
"Care to keep an old woman who doesn't speak German company for a bit?”
"Hmm dunno,” I started.
"She means yes Gran,” Jules interrupted.
"I was gonna say that,” I whined.
"Girls?”
"Sorry Gran,” I offerred, "Walking or sitting?”
"I could murder a cup of tea, not had one since I left home this morning.”
"Not even on the plane?” Jules queried as we navigated past cheerleaders, toddlers and a Duke cutting a rug.
"Don't get me started Juliette.”
"Wait here, I'll be right back,” I told them.

"Tea? Sure Gaby,” Helmut told me, "You know where everything is?”
"I should do by now,” I agreed. Yup, much like the Thesing's Backhaus, the Sebenschuh's Stube and associated weinhaus has been a regular haunt of me and my friends since, well, since the family moved to Germany.

I returned to where Gran and Jules were waiting.

"Lets get that tea,” I suggested leading the way to the tent's exit.
"Where are we going?”Gran asked.
"To the Stube.”
"Is that allowed?”
"Gran,” Jules sighed, "Birthday girl works here and one of her friends lives here, she's a shoe in for access all areas.”
"And I checked with Helmut,” I mentioned as we headed across the car park to the restaurant cum house.
 

"So how are my favourite grand daughters?”
"Your only grand daughters,” we both chorused.
"Have to keep you on your toes,” Gran grinned.
"Gra-an!” I moaned.
"Well you never know, I might have some sugar daddy back in Cheshire.”
"TMI Gran,” Jules stated.
"So, Jules, how are you and the twins getting along?”

 
"There you are,” Manda sighed, "No one knew where you'd gone.”
"Just getting some tea with Gran,” I told her, "Want a cup?”
"Er, sounds a good idea, hang on no, its like four o'clock, people are ready to leave.”
"Before the orgy?” I suggested with a smirk.
"Ha ha Bond,” she replied, "Come on, hands to shake and all that.”
"We'll just finish the tea,” Jules opined.
 
"Thanks for coming all this way your Grace.”
"Our pleasure Gaby, its been nice to get out of dreary Stuttgart for a couple of days.”
"Besides which,” Marianne, the Duchess advised, "Sophia was insistent on coming.”
"Well I was hardly going to miss my best friends birthday party eh?”

When did I make the leap to best friend?

"Are you going all the way back today?”
The Duke of Thun und Taxis shrugged, "Its only about four hours, we'll be home for supper.”
"Well have a safe journey and thanks again for coming.”

There was an exchange of handshakes and hugs and the elder Taxis moved on to complete their farewells.

"Daddy was very impressed when I told him about you cooking last night,” Sophia bubbled.
"It was pretty simple,” I demurred, "It was good to see you Soph, not sure when we're down your way again.”
"My birthday silly, May the fourth.”
"Er right.”
"Have to go, the olds are looking for me, tschussie!”
"Er tschussie,” I replied as she crushed me in another hug.
 

"Soph was getting a bit intense,” Max opined joining me as I waved his relatives off.
"I seem to have been adopted.”
"Hmmm?”
"Into the Sophia Taxis inner circle,” I enlarged.
"Ah, right.”
"Apparently I'm to attend her birthday celebration in May.”
"Sounds like fun.”
"Well you'll find out first hand, you're my plus one,” I told him.
"Sugar.”
"I've been yours several times now, time for payback.”
"Did I say no?”
"No, and you'd better not or I'll tell your Gran.”
"Girls can be so mean.”
"But you still love us.”
"Talking of which, there's that storeroom in the Kellerie?”
"Gaby,” Mum's voice called out, "Have you seen your Gran?”
I turned to Max, "Hold that thought loverboy.”
 

Of course, all good things must come to an end, the party wound itself up, more people departed and I never did get the snog with Max. On the other hand, when we departed it was with a new stack of birthday cards and a box of gifts, mwahaha, not that I'm mercenary of course. I did of course spend some time with the rest of The Angels which was cool, particularly Bridg and Steff, we really don't get to see each other much due to college, commuting and, well other stuff that gets in the way.

Like the Taxis, Boris and my sister were driving back straight from the party, in theory its about two and a half hours but in Boris' elderly car and required expectant mum stops, well three would be closer to the mark. I think Mum was a bit disapointed as they had spent Saturday with the other prospective grand parents, but I guess Jules is still doing the rebel daughter bit. Mum herself has to fly back out to Lisbon tomorrow evening, the Portugese race starts on Tuesday, but Gran is staying with us in Dernau for a couple of days which is pretty cool.
 

"That was pretty mean,” I suggested, kicking my stilts off before collapsing onto the sofa, "I really thought everyone had forgotten or something.”
"How could anyone forget,” Mand scoffed, "You've been dropping enough hints.”
"I still can't believe everyone kept it a secret.”
"Me either,” Dad stated, "And move those shoes before someone trips on them.”
"Yes Daddy,” I smarmed even as I recovered my heels.
"Well I'm gonna get changed,” Mand proposed.
"You not coming to the restaurant then?” Mum enquired arriving with Gran and a tray of coffee stuff.
"Restaurant?” Mand and I repeated.
"Well you do want to eat this evening, not a problem if you don't want to,” Mum concluded.
"Me, me, me!”
"I'd still like to change,” Mand told us, "Drea was using me as a towel, I think she was rubbing custard well in.”
"You've got time,” Dad allowed, "Table's booked for seven.”
 

In the end Mum and Gran changed too, but whilst this frock is quite fitted, it is pretty comfortable. On the other hand the shoes had to go, a pair of lower heeled strappy sandals were maybe not the ideal replacement but they did sort of go with the rest whilst giving my tootsies a bit of relief. At half six, with me squidged in the middle and Dad at the wheel, the Saab departed Bond Manor for the short drive to the Bunte Kuh just outside Walporzheim, all of about two kilometres away.

I think we may have eaten at the Colourful Cow when we first moved here but its not one of our regular haunts. Well I guess there are quite a few to choose from in these parts and people do tend to stick to what they know so its little surprise. In February though, not so much is open, the Schloss isn't open on Sundays for example but the rather quaint Bunt Kuh is. Of course that will tend to concentrate the diners, the car park suggested it was quite busy this evening.

If the outside looks like a transplant from the Schwarzwald, inside, whilst modernised is pure gingerbread, from the wood panneled walls to the traditional pierced back chairs. Yep, if the Schloss is modern chic, the Stube is kinda modern practical, the Bunte Kuh is unadulterated kitche! Dad had booked for seven assuming Boris and Jules were coming which meant we had a big table in a corner of the bar area.

Looking down the menu, to be honest, I wasn't feeling so hungry, not because i'd stuffed myself earlier, I just wasn't feeling that hungry. I'd pretty much made my mind up to just have the Gemüsesuppe.

"What you having kiddo?” Dad asked.
"I'm betting on the Steak,” Mand opined.

I was pretty irked by her prediction, that would've been my first choice normally.

"Well I'm not, I think I'll have the Hausgemachtes Cordon Bleu.”
"Think I'll give the veggie schnitzel a throw,” de Vreen decided.
"Thought you were over that?”
"Doesn't mean I have to eat meat does it?”

Fair call, I was going to have vegetable soup after all. Mum wanted the chicken breast, Gran and Dad both selecting 'Forest' style schnitzel – yup even mine was schnitzel underneath the fancy name – and what's wrong with that?

Drinks arrived, food was ordered and I did my best to get comfortable on the unforgiving Sweetheart chair.

"Well,” Dad started, "I think a toast is in order.”

We all lifted our assorted beverages.

"To Gabrielle, may your eighteenth year be as good to you as the last, happy birthday kiddo!”
"Gaby.”
"Gabrielle!”
"Gabs.”
I raised my own glass to meet the others, "Thanks, maybe a bit less drama this year would be nice.”

Yep definitely that, a bit less falling off of bikes, no rushing to the doctor, no bungled drug testing. Other than that, I'm up for a repeat.

 
"So Mum?”
"Yes?”
"You know this Mount Teide thing, whats the big deal?”
"The big deal young lady is its over two thousand metres of climbing.”

Mand nearly choked on her apple juice.

"How much?”
"Two thousand metres,” Mum confirmed.
"Thats higher than we went in Switzerland eh Dad?”
"Not by much,” he confirmed, the difference is that you start at sea level, you might already be at five hundred when you start the Alpine stuff.”
"So how steep is it then?” Mand asked before I could.
"Not that bad, five, six percent, there might be a bit of ten I think but you are climbing for about forty K and thats the short route,” Mum advised.
"Have you ridden it?”
"A few years ago, a few of us did a 'training camp', as much about the apres ride as the cycling to be honest, all I remember is that it was hot with a capital H, thirty degrees in Tenerife, snow on the ground when we got back to Manchester, ended up with a week off work with the flu which didn't go down particularly well.”
"I remember that Jen,” Gran confirmed.
"Some of the guys go every year, same thing, when I started teaching I couldn't take the chance so i've not been since,” Mum concluded.
"So isn't it a bit risky for us to go now?” Manda challenged.
"Its obviously a concern,” Dad took up the reins, "But we're late in the flu season and a properly structured training camp will have benefits far beyond the next few weeks, look at the form you guys had after Italy and Switzerland and last year, the race in Spain filled the same criteria, Don't worry Manda, we've got some hot lemon indoors.”

Reassuring – not!

"I still don't get why George wants me on the team for this challenge thing.”
"Kudos,” Mand suggested.
"Eh?”
"You know like, people will go oo look, Weltmeisterin riding for Apollinaris.”
"I know what kudos is, just not sure how that fits with some monster hill climb.”
"Politics, buttering up sponsors, and bragging rights,” Mum summed it up.

Ever felt like the sacrificial lamb?

The food arrived before we could bore Gran with any more cycling talk, I, well I guess all of us, sometimes forget not everyone is 'in' to cycling like we are.

 
My Cordon Bleu was pretty good, the cheese oozing out of the pork schnitzel adding a bit of moisture without resorting to some sort of sauce. Not that I'm against Jäger sauce but after the hundredth time, well its nice to have a change. The 'Forest' style Dad and Gran had was similar but with those stringy mushrooms instead of the cheese – and they got Spätzle too.

"Dessert anyone?” Dad enquired.
"Maybe a pot of tea,” Gran suggested.

Yep, I don't think I could eat another Frite if you were paying me.
 

It was gone nine when we got back to Bond Acres, not late by any stretch but I was feeling quite tired so grabbing my box of birthday swag and cards I headed up to my eyrie. I know what I said earlier about the dress being comfortable but after ten hours I was pleased to be free, not just of the frock but the hose and BH too. Given my now almost naked state it wasn't a great leap to hit the shower which woke me up sufficiently to do the great unwrap.

I remember when I was younger, well okay, just a couple of years ago, everyone attending your party brought a gift. It wasn't always very much but it was a sort of entry token which would be reciprocated at subsequent shindigs. Get into your mid teens and the number of actual parties dropped and gift giving becomes less mandatory, well in my experience that is.

Sure, your close friends will usually gift, party or not but the wider circle might run to a card. That doesn't stop the little kid in me enjoying the whole present giving / receiving thing. I sat myself cross legged on the bed and opened the cards first, my friends of course, the girls from cheer, another co signed by Daz, Josh and Tali, Soph and a couple more with names I couldn't immediately put faces to.

I'm not sure how or who funded todays extravaganza, the Angels clearly had some input but even so I still got gifts from them all. A Tally™ voucher, a pair of 'interesting' earrings, a framed photo montage – that was from Nena, a pink Victorinox pocket knife and a silk scarf. The Preiser family, well it said Drea, added a box of home made toffee to the swag, there was more confectionary from Josh and the cheerleaders and bizarely a puncture kit from Tali.

The last two packages were bigger, which is why i'd held them back, best for last and all that, I didn't recognise the writing on either, hmm, a double mystery. The smaller one, once I managed to undo the knots, was clearly a jewellery box, which, when I prised it open contained an exquisite silver bracelet and a note which simply said 'Love Sophia' – well thats one mystery solved even if it is embarrasingly too much.

I gave the last gift a cautious shake, nope no clue there, guess I'll have to rip it open then! There was a card inside, 'hope you find this useful', no name, nothing to identify the donor. I pulled the plain sleeve off of the printed box to find a Sennheiser wireless microphone, oh my god, that is so cool but it must have cost a wodge, even I know this stuff isn't cheap. I had to get it out for a look of course, check how it felt in my hands which led to a full on mimed Bo Rap – well I thought I was miming but the 'Gaby, keep it down' from the lower levels suggested otherwise. Wow, my own microphone, guess that means I'm like a proper artiste!

Still on a bit of a buzz I collapsed back onto my pillow, boy, what a day. In a couple of hours I'll not be just seventeen anymore, I'll be seventeen and a day, the countdown to being eighteen is on. Not that I'm wishing my life away of course, but it only seems like yesterday that seventeen seemed so far away, seventeen, what will I do with you?

I cleared the bed of cards, gifts and debris then climbed under the duvet falling almost immediately into the world of slumber.

 
Maddy Bell © 19.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 

I might not be a morning person but after years of getting up at silly o'clock for school and now college, my auto timer has me at least awake at six thirty anyway. Of course, its February, its still dark at eight let alone six thirty, the temptation to just roll over is high, my bladder however had other ideas so I slipped from my nest of duvet. Yep the frigid air of early morning just accelerated the bathrooms requirement!

What is it about toilets that makes you contemplative? Well i've got no idea but it does so I found myself, between yawns, reliving my party, I still can't believe so many people came and not only that, kept it a secret. Okay, it wasn't a birthday heavy on presents but its certainly one to remember.

Seventeen, I'm seventeen. Sixteen is like your first tentative steps into adulthood, the end of normal school, more responsibility, the first baby steps into finding yourself. Thats been a biggy for me, the last year has been full of ups and downs, I can't see me topping it any time soon. And I think i've become more comfortable in my own skin, i've been in denial of my own chromosones for so long but I think i've got over the whole 'but I'm not a girl' thing, haven't I?

Some banging and crashing downstairs broke my reverie, an unfamilar voice alongside that of Dad – Gran! Oh and Mum's here, well at least for this morning. I quickly finished my bathroom visit, grabbed my fluffy dressing gown and padded downstairs.
 

"Morning Gran.”
"You're up early,” Gran suggested.
"Its nearly seven,” I pointed out, "If I was going to college my lift is at half past.”
"That's early.”
"Not really, by the time we get to Koblenz I just get to college for my first class.”
"You don't have college today?” she enquired searching in the cutlery drawer, "Tea spoon?”
"In the caddy on top.”
She found said item and returned to the table, "And you don't have college today?”
"Nope, no classes until after half term so no commute for me.”
"You haven't forgotten your tutorial?” Dad queried joining us after collecting morning Brötchen.
"Er no,” well I had, how does Dad know these things? "But thats not commuting is it?”
"A technicality,” he suggested, "I'm guessing you want a lift?”

Do I? I racked my brains for information, oh thats right, I'm seeing Lisbet at one thirty so I guess I can get the Zug, do some shopping for next week – hey I know.

"Gran, d'you want to come? I need stuff for Tenerife, we could get the train down, make a day of it, we can lunch in the Altstadt, I can show you the college, I won't be with my tutor for long.”
"Well it would be nice to spend time with one of my grandaughters,” she mused.
"You want dropping at Remagen then? I'm taking Amanda down anyway.”
If he's going anyway, "Sure, that Semeln going begging?”

Missing the first train leg of the journey – and the walk to Dernau bahnhof, gave us about an extra thirty minutes to get ready. Gran of course was already dressed but there was now just an hour until departure and I'm only halfway through my Fruhstück! Instead of eating the sandwich I was putting together, I wrapped it in a paper napkin, I can eat that on the train along with my banana, coffee however needs immediate attention!
 

"Ready Spud?” Dad enquired when I returned to the kitchen.
"Don't call her that Dave,” Mum admonished, "She's a young woman, not your lunch, eh Princess?”

Mand did a very bad job of stifling a huge guffaw. Nope, I'm not going to react, Dad can call me Spud if he likes, its better than Princess!

"Just need my coat, where's my sandwich?”
"It was yours?” Mand opined as she spread Marmite™ on her toast.
"You ate it?” I accused.
"No she didn't,” Mum soothed, "Your Gran's got it in her bag.”
"Gotcha!” de Vreen smirked.
"Hmmph.”
 

Mand's train was just pulling in when we got to Remagen so she was off like a shot into the underpass to Gleis zwei, Gran and I took a bit more time extricating ourselves from the warm confines of the Saab's cosy interior.

"If you want picking up, give me a call Josie.”
"Thanks Dave, I'm sure Gaby has everything under control.”

Dad took off, he's doing stuff at the team HQ today, Gran and I headed up onto platform one to get her ticket. To be honest, its not something I do very often, my student pass is a lifesaver – especially as the rents pay for it. The machines though, are pretty easy to use, we fed some notes in and were rewarded with a Regiokarte for Gran, if it came to it that covers me as well but we aren't restricted by train or route and its valid on the buses too.

The Rheintal Express purred into the station and we joined the busy train along with a few others almost certainly with similar purpose to ourselves. Busy yes but not so crowded that we didn't easily find table seats, facing the right way too, in the first carriage. Of course we were already on the move, sliding past the Schauff factory as we started the journey south.

"You want this now?” Gran proffered the small sandwich box with my breakfast inside.
"Erm, yeah, keep me going until lunch, I'm a growing girl.”
"Not from what i've seen,” she retorted passing food, a knife and a couple of fresh napkins to me.
"Its not fair, i've tried sheep poo and everything.”
"Sheep poo? Oh right, fertilizer, your mother was just the same, eat for England and thin as a rake.”
"But taller, and no so thin these days,” I added.
"Thats what being a mother does for you.”

I was of course busy preparing to eat, I neatly cut the Brötchen in two, rearranging the displaced filling, Bierwürst, cheese and tomato.

"You want?” I offered Gran half.
"Not for me, i've grown enough for one day.”

I shrugged, the offer was made, I can eat the whole thing with a clear conscience.

The Rheintal of course, doesn't stop everywhere, in fact after Remagen its just Brohl and Andernach, the only drawback being it doesn't stop at the Löhr centre either.

"So you're going to be a pop star then?”
"Sort of,” I allowed, "But its not exactly pop and star is pushing things a bit.”
"Not what i've heard,” Gran mentioned.
"We're not exactly famous and anyway, I just do a bit of singing, its the guys do all the hard work.”
"If you say so,” Gran replied with a note of disbelief in her voice.
"They were a band before I joined them,”i pointed out.
"Don't put your input down Gaby, from what I saw yesterday they follow your lead, they need you probably more than you them.”
"I wouldn't be doing it at all without them.”
"Maybe not the same but you enjoy singing, you do it well so if it wasn't Blau...wahatever.”
"Hase,” I completed for her.
"It would be some other outlet for your lungs, a choir or something.”
"Not sure any choir's would want me, its not like I'm religious is it?”
"There are plenty of choristers who aren't, I wasn't neccesarily thinking of a church choir although I know one vicar who'd recruit you at the drop of a hat.”
"Hat, damn, I knew i'd forgotten something.”
 

Once in Koblenz we headed over to the ZOB, most of the city buses go via the Löhr so within a few minutes we were on the main pedestrianised zone. Being Monday it was less busy than it will be later in the week, fewer Oma's and Hausfrau's as its still tradition to do washing on Monday hereabouts. We had a look in a couple of shops, not for anything in particular but Gran enjoys looking at, the to her, foreign fashions and designs.

Well I think its also a reminder that back in England, many towns have become homogenised, losing many of the independent stores so that on a visit to Crewe or Worksop you will find the same names, the same products inside. Don't get me wrong, there are big chains in Germany, but some are in just one state, and even say the Kaufhaus will stock different goods in different stores. Whatever it is, shopping is a sure fire hit when we have visitors from England, much less so going the other direction.

"Coffee?” I suggested outside of the Galeria.
"Toilet?” Gran countered.
"Next to the restaurant,” I supplied, I checked my watch, "They'll just be putting out the torte.”
She sighed, "Go on then, do they do tea?”
"Uh huh,” I confirmed, "Not that you'd really want it.”
"You have your coffee, let me decide on the tea, it can't be worse than on that plane yesterday.”
 

Of course,I hadn't wanted a wee, but I was nearly wetting myself by the 3em OG and who was the daft bint wearing skinny jeans and a body? Looks good but finding and undoing the poppers – well it nearly got messy! It could've been worse I guess, at least i'd decided against the hose. Anyhow, we reconvened at the restaurant entrance from where I sent Gran to find a table and I, dutiful grand daughter that I am, went to fetch the refreshments.

"Gabee!” Gran admonished.
"Thats me,” I agreed, sliding the tray onto the table, I got you tea.”
"And I suppose the two slices of gateaux are both for you?”
"They were just putting them out when I got there.”
"No wonder your Dad's going grey.”
"He's not, is he?”
"Its either that or dry rot setting in.”
"I hadn't noticed,” I offered slightly guiltily.
"Well don't make a thing of it, you notice these things when you don't see people so often.”
"But you haven't got any grey.”
"Who says?”

Of course, now I found myself looking. Thing is, whilst Dad has dark hair, the women of the household are all blondes, well at the roots at least, mine is nearly white, Mum and Jules are more sort of gold, Gran is between the two so a few lighter strands won't show.

"Stop wool gathering or we'll be going straight from here to meet your Mum.”
"Mum? But she's flying to Portugal”
"After we've had lunch, weren't you listening earlier?”
"I guess I missed that bit.”
"Some place called Ostria or some such?”
"Think I know the place.”
"Well she wrote it down for me, twelve thirty.”
"That only gives us an hour!”
"Calm down, a bit more than that but we've got the afternoon after your meeting.”

Of course, even if we weren't meeting Mum for lunch we wouldn't have much more time, after all i've still got to get to the college, even if its not that far. We finished up in the restaurant then worked our way back down to the ground floor. Its not somewhere i'd usually do clothes shopping – well maybe for hose but for the stylish older woman, its right up there with CundA and the like.
 

Back out onto Löhr Straße and it was a gentle stroll up towards Münzplatz, L'Osteria as it turned out to be called is actually on Am Plan, we spotted Mum before the restaurant.

"What are we eating tonight Gaby?” Gran enquired as we perused the menus.
"We usually get pizza after i've been to cheer.”
"That cuts the choice quite a bit.”

Yup, L'Osteria is of the Italian persuasion.

"Well I won't be having it later so I'm gonna have the pizza Pollo al Forno,” Mum told us.

I guess pizza twice in a day is a bit much, I scanned the remaining options for inspiration.

"Think I'll have the Minestrone,” Gran volunteered.
There it was, just the ticket, "Can I have the Gnochi Carbonara please.”

Of course, because we were in a fairly tight window ahead of my meeting, the food took an age to arrive.

"Damn,” I cursed, checking the time, "I need to be at college in ffteen minutes.”

With all the talking, whilst I was pretty much through my pasta, Mum and Gran were only about halfway through their meals.

"You go on kiddo,” Mum instructed, "I'll walk your Gran down when we're done, the car's in the parking by the college anyway.”
“'kay, sorry to cut and run Gran.”
"Its okay Gaby, go do what you need to do, we'll see you in about an hour.”
"Okay,” I agreed as I tugged my coat on.”
"Oh, and you might want this,” Mum suggested, digging into her bag.
"Hmm?”
"You left it on the kitchen table,” she mentioned presenting me with the folders containing the stuff for Lisbet.
"Sugar, I thought they were in my bag, thanks Mum”
"Well thank me by getting good marks eh, now shoo or you will be late.”

I took the folders, stowed them in my own bag and set off to see Fr. Olafsdottir.
 

It was a bit weird, being back in the college building, I know its only been a few weeks but it seems like an eternity. Of course, there are other courses and many more students than those on my management course, accounting to surveying, political and computer studies, white collar subjects if you like.

There's another campus for 'the arts', languages, history and all that sort of stuff then there's the more hands on stuff, engineering, mechanics and so on where Max and Freddy attend. Things like childcare have their own 'colleges' usually as part of a relevant hospital or whatever – where Con does her childcare is part of the regional Paediatrics campus out in Mayen.

Anyhow, I clattered up the stairs and along to Lisbet's office, pausing to get my breath before rapping on the door.

"Come in.”
I eased the door open, "Tutorial?”
"Gaby,” my tutor enthused, "Come on in, I shan't be a moment, be a love and make some coffee, I just need to finish these notes and I'll be with you.”
"Er sure.”

I dumped, no, placed my bag on the sofa, removed my coat and made a start on the caffeine rich beverage. I bet Mum and Gran are having coffee at L'Osteria right about now but Lisbet keeps good beans now and even though I say so myself, I make a fair cup of coffee.

"Phwoo!” she allowed closing the folder on her desk even as I finished my Barista duties. "So Fraulein Bond, how has your furlough been? I hope you've made good use of the time?”

She came from behind her desk, snagged her coffee mug and sat herself in one of the 'comfy' chairs.

"I've not missed the commuting,” I told her, "I've done the report and all the stuff on the reading list.”
"But did you learn anything, apart from a disdain of commuting?” she sipped at her coffee, "Oo, i've missed this.”

Have I? How do you measure learning? Exams, papers, essays and can the learnee really comment on their personal learning?

"I've read a lot, I'm sure some of it soaked in.”
"An interesting viewpoint. I think most of my students would have just replied 'yes' but you offer a more cautios opinion, any reason?”
I shrugged, "How do I know if i've learnt anything unless I'm tested somehow?”
"Bravo, an honest reply. Oh congratulations on your birthday, it was this weekend yes?”
"Yesterday, thanks.”
"So my wise young friend, tell me about the last few weeks.”
 

You, of course, already know what's been going on in the life of Gabrielle Bond, spinster of this parish so I won't bore you with repeating everything. Well I left out some of the more personal stuff, concentrating instead on the work side of things, how the Kabin was doing, what was going on with my cycling career and yes, my music career too.

"You aren't tempted to change your career path?”
"As if!” I scoffed.
"Remember i've seen you perform Gaby, I know, you know, that this course isn't a vocation for you, your first love, and preferred career is racing pedal bikes.”

I couldn't argue with that assessment.

She went on, "But if that was no longer possible for any reason, could you 'settle' for a job in hospitality when you have this other talent?”

She had a point, this qualification and any that follow at University are, for me, an insurance policy for the future, when I get to where Maria Pinger is, when racing bikes for a living ends. Could a singing career be an alternative, a new plan B?

"I guess its just been a bit of a lark up to now.”
"So why are you going on this tour?”

The sixty four million euro question.

"To see what its like I guess.”
"Don't guess Gaby, know. You have a sharp mind, sporting and artistic talent, your parents are helping you hone your radrennen skills, this college is doing its bit on the serious academic side, think of this trip with the band as a chance to fine tune or at least start to tune, your musical potential. If it doesn't work out, well you've lost nothing but learnt, I hope at least, why, but if it is a success, you have more than one bow string to take on through life, okay?”

I allowed a sigh, she'd pretty much said the same as Dad did last week, but being from beyond my family and friends, her opinion has more gravitas.

"Maybe I should take up an instrument.”
"Whilst i've no doubt that you could do that, I think your current workload is more than enough. Questions?”
Tons but not really pertinent to this conversation, "Er no, don't think so.”
"Thats us done then, enjoy, where was it, Madeira?”
"Tenerife.”
"Well enjoy it and come back refeshed for the new term.”
"I'll try, oh, nearly forgot,” I dug in my bag and retrieved the folders Mum couriered down to me, "I've already forgotten them once today, Mum brought them down for me.”
"Your mother is here?”
"Keeping Gran company downstairs I think.”
"Your Oma too, I'll walk you down, I don't get much opportunity to meet my students families and I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

At secondary school, that would've struck dread in my heart but here and with it being Lisbet, well our relationship is more like friends than teacher / pupil and having friends meet your family is a good thing yeah?
 

"I thought we'd missed you,” Mum opined when we reached the atrium and the seats Mum and Gran were keeping warm.
"Sorry, my fault,” Lisbet told them, "We over ran a bit, Lisbet Olafsdottir, Gabys course tutor.”
"That seems to happen a lot where my daughter is concerned, Jenny Bond and this is my mother, Josie Peters.”
"I see where Gaby gets her looks,” Lisbet grinned, "Nice to meet you Frau Peters.”

Warning, never allow your mother to get started on her favourite subject aka me, with another interested party, in this case Lisbet, the result is likely to be a long intermission!

 
Maddy Bell © 21.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 

"And Jennifer...”

I sniggered at Gran using Mums full name.

“..drive carefully.”
"I always do,” Mater replied.
"Hmm,” her mother allowed, its not just me that thinks her driving is a bit er, erratic at times.
"And I'll see you at the weekend kiddo, make sure you bring your swimming cossie.”
"You already said,” I pointed out.

After a round of farewell hugs, Gran and I finally watched Mum hurry off to continue her journey to Frankfurt airport – if she gets there on time it'll be a miracle.

"So young lady, where to now?” Gran enquired.

I quickly ran my shopping and sustenance needs through my head before replying.

"We can go up through the Altstadt, there's some nice shops through there, I probably should look for another cossie too, there's an Intersport™ on Munzplatz, anywhere you want to go?”
"Nothing in particular, your Dad was talking about stopping off in Frankfurt on the way to the Airport on Wednesday.”
'Frankfurt,' I mused, hmm wonder if I can finangle going along.
“'kay, Altstadt then, we can get coffee on the way back to the Zug,” I suggested.
"Lead on,” Gran suggested looping my arm through her own.
 

Its strange, you think you know somewhere then you discover that you don't know it as well as you thought. Now i've been to Koblenz loads of times with my friends, i've wandered around after college but today, with Gran, we found some little streets i've missed, shops that I didn't know existed. I made a mental note to come for a better look in one or two, the music store in particular looked pretty interesting, but it didn't look like a place you'd take your Oma!

Of course, Gran had to have a look in the underwear shop, no, not Victoria's Secret™ but the one with a display of 'foundation' wear in the window. I long ago got over the embarrassment of shopping for BH and stuff but even so I find this sort of place a bit intimidating.

"Abend!” a voice called out from beyond a display of girdle things.
"Er Abend,” I called back.
"Gibt es etwas, das Sie suchen?”

By now we were far enough inside to see the counter and speaker.

"Nein danke,” I replied, "Nur suchen.”
"Okay, fragen, ob Sie Hilfe benötigen.”
"Danke.”

I think Gran got the gist of the conversation as she added her own 'danke' to my reply.

"You just don't see this stuff in the shops these days,” Gran observed.
"I guess not many people wear this sort of stuff nowadays,” I pointed out.
"You'd be surprised young lady,” Gran started, "There comes a time in every woman's life when gravity takes a hold and the flimsy undies you wore as a teen just don't cut the mustard.”
I gave a shrug, "I guess, so where do these saggy women get their corsets then?”
"There are mail order companies, so I'm told.”
"Gran!””
"I'm admitting nothing.”

I guess its not something you usually discuss with your teenage grandaughters but i've seen her washing, there might not have been any of these corsolet thingies but her knickers are certainly more substantial than anything in the Bond household!

I followed Gran around the shelves and was distractedly looking at a very lacy but clearly solid all in one thingy displayed on one of those perspex body things.

"Gaby, give me a hand here luv.”
"What's up?”
"Can you help me with these sizes, I can't make head nor tail of them.”
I took the packet she was holding and turned it over, to see the size chart, "So um what size are you after?”

Of course, the, er, garment was sized in the usual way – for Germany that is. I've got a fair idea of my sizing of course but its not exactly straightforward converting to and from UK sizes.

"Medium?”

It took a bit of working out, vague sizing like small, medium and so on might be simple but the garment we were looking at went up in two centimetre jumps from thirty six, I'm only thirty two and I'm sure gran is nowhere near fifty four so that was getting us nowhere. It took a few minutes of converting inches to centimetres, then remembering to halve the answer, well we settled on forty six which seemed about right.

"Alle ist gut?” the sales woman enquired when we reached the till.
"Ja, mein Oma ist von Großbritannia, die Größe ist unterschiedlich.“
"Ach so,“ she allowed taking the package, "das wäre Englisch sechzehn?“
"Ja,“ i agreed.

Shoulda thought of asking, dur.

"I remember now, you ordered the Unterbrusthalter last year, how are you finding it?“
"It, um, does the job,“ i admitted.
"So, fifty five euro for your Oma,“ she told me with a wink.
"Danke.“
 
"So what was all that about in there,“ Gran asked as we made our way towards the sports store, "i'm sure it said sixty euros on the box.“
"Discount?“
"Hmm, i didn't come down with the last shower Gabrielle.“
"It was discount, i erm, bought something there before,“ i admitted.
"Now this sounds like a story i must hear.“

I sighed, might as well own up.

"You know the Kostum?”
"Your fancy German outfit?”
One of mine is Swiss but I'm not gonna start splitting hairs, "Er yeah, well you know that the Bluse is um, a bit exposing?”
"Your chest is on display,” Gran translated.
"Well you can get this thing, an Unterbrusthalter, which er, lifts things a bit, 'specially if you haven't got, you know, a lot on top.”
"Like an uplift bra?” Gran offered.
"Sort of, except this doesn't have cups, you wear it with a bra to er, boost things?”
"Busty Lil without the bust,” Gran grinned, "We used to use tissues, trust the Germans to up the ante, and you bought one of these I take it?”
"Er yeah, I only use it with the Dirndl,” I stated in my defence.
Gran just chuckled, "Come on, lets get this swim suit, I think I could do with that coffee then.”
 

You'd think no one went swimming in winter by the paltry selection of swimwear in the Intersport™, a motley collection of clearly end of line stuff, the only one in my size was an awful thing with frills across the bust in lime green – no way José. Maybe I can get something in Frankfurt or I'm sure they sell swim wear on Tenerife. We set off back along Lohrstraße to my usual choice of coffee shop, the Kamps Bäckerei a bit before the Galleria.

Of course it was easiest for me to do the ordering, Milch Kaffee and Pflaumküchen – well its a while until dinner, have to keep our strength up!
I was no sooner at the table with our comestibles than Gran was shoving a folded note into my hand.

"What's this?“
"You paid this morning.“
"I can afford it.“
"I wasn't suggesting you couldn't but fair's fair Gaby.”
"I've already paid,” I pointed out trying to give the note back.
"Well put it towards your new costume or something, I didn't get you much for your birthday.”
"You came all the way here Gran, I don't need big presents.”

Well they're nice, but not essential!

"Keep it Gaby, I don't see enough of my girls so humour me eh?”
"What about Jules?”
"Never you mind about your sister, she doesn't miss out.”
I had to admit defeat, "Okay, thanks Gran.”
"Gab's, Frau Peters!” a familiar voice called out as we were finishing our coffee.
"Max? What are you doing here?”
"I come most days before the train back.”
"Since when?” I queried as he arrived at the table.
"Since you've been abschöpfen up in Dernau.
"I have so not been skiving!”
"If you say so meine liebe, you ladies want another coffee?”
"Gran?”
"Not for me, I'll float if I drink any more, you go ahead.”
"Another Milchkaffee then,” I beamed up at von Strechau.
"Yes milady,” he replied before heading over to the counter.

"He's a nice lad,” Gran suggested.
"Gra-an.”
"Well he is, well mannered and he's got it hard for you.”
"Does not!”
"I'm only saying what I see Grandaughter, he's well smitten.”
"We're just friends really.”
"With benefits?” Gran probed.
"What do you mean?” I asked even as I started to flush.
"Gabrielle Bond, you know very well what I mean.”
"I, erm, we haven't, you know, erm, thingy.” I muttered.
"Well make sure whatever you do is right for you.”
"Er yeah,” I agreed.

Max returned with a laden tray.
"One Milchkaffee and a Puddingbrezel for Modom.”
"I've just had Pflaumküchen,“ i protested.
"And your point is?“
"I was just saying.”
"Never known you to turn down cake, you sure you don't want anything Frau Peters?”
"I'm fine Max,” Gran replied, "Is there a toilet?”
"Door just past the counter,” I told her.

"So, been shopping?” my BF queried once Gran had departed.
"A bit, I had a tutorial earlier and Mum met us for lunch,” I supplied.
"She not here now?”
"Has to fly to Portugal, if she got to the airport in one piece, thanks for yesterday.”
"It wasn't my idea.”
"But I bet you had a big hand in organising it, like getting Sophia and her parents up.”
"They really did come for a family 'conference'.”

I gave him the 'pull the other one look'.

"Okay, they brought the meeting forward a week so they could be there,” he admitted.
"So what was the meeting about?” well enquiring minds and all that.
"This and that, they usually have a couple of Familienkonferenz each year, wouldn't do to have weddings clash and stuff like that.”
"I guess not,” I allowed.

I can just see that happening in my family, most of my cousins are still in kindergarten which pretty much leaves me and Jules, the 'meeting' would last like two minutes, 'Gab, you getting married? Nope, Jules? Nope. Okay, see you next time.' okay thirty seconds.

"So are there any?” I went on.
"Any what?”
"Clashing weddings dumkopf.”
"I think the calender is pretty clear this year, pick your date.”
"If thats a proposal, the answer is no.”
"Phew, I thought I was gonna have to wear one of those tight suit things in front of everyone at the Dom.”
"We are not getting married in the Dom.”
"So we are getting married?”
"Now you're twisting my words,” I told him with a glare.
"Okay you two?” Gran enquired returning from her mission.
"Apparently we aren't getting married in the Dom,” Max told my Gran.
"Somewhere else in mind Gaby?” Gran enquired with a twinkle in her eye.
"Urgh! There is no wedding.”
"Phew, I don't need to shop for a hat then.”
"Gra-an!”
 

If we hadn't been joined by Max I was gonna have a look in the model car shop but it was getting late and i've got cheer tonight, so rather than head for the Hauptbahnhof we cut through the Löhr Center to the City stop to catch the stopping train. I rang Dad with an ETA in Remagen but he was still waiting on a call from some race organiser so we'd get the Ahrtal Express back up to Dernau. The canny traveller doesn't head for the nearest carriage, especially at busy times, we got a facing double in the last carriage, Gran almost insisting that I sit with Max.
 

Click. It wasn't a loud noise but in the relative quiet of the half empty carriage it was enough to disturb my slumber. I cracked an eye before flinging my arms out to stretch, my pillow squirmed under me. Hang on, pillow?

"You're awake,” Gran's voice suggested.

Gran? My mind struggled to engage, if Gran's here then – I sprang up.

"Whoa!” Max exclaimed as I inadvertently punched him in the middle.
"We thought we were going to have to wake you,” Gran told me, "We're just coming into Remagen.”

Its not that I didn't believe her but of course I had to look, not that you could see much beyond your own reflection through the window, it being almost dark outside.

"Remagen,” I muttered to myself as almost on cue the announcement came over the train tannoy.
"Good sleep?” Gran enquired.
"I guess,” I allowed as I pulled my boots back on, when did I take them off?

There was quite a lot of movement along the carriage, a surprising number of people commute from the Ahrtal to Koblenz and points in between, by the time I was re-dressed we were slowing into Remagen, the dim platform lights rolling slowly past the tinted carriage windows as we queued ready to disembark. With a judder and a hiss we rolled to a halt and the sombre collective filed off the train, mostly heading to the car park or into the town but we were far from the only ones who were headed for Gleis funf and the bright lights of the Ahrtal Express.

We got seats, Gran and I on one side of the aisle, Max across from us next to a chap in the full fluo overalls favoured by rail workers. By the time we were seated the train was moving, the bright lights of Remagen soon behind us as we headed into the Ahr valley. How many times have I done this journey, a hundred, a thousand, well maybe not that many but a lot anyway, it always takes longer than you expect.

"So when do you go back to England Frau Peters?” Max enquired.
"Wednesday, just a flying visit,” Gran told him.
"Literally,” I put in, chuckling at my own joke.
"One day I will have to come to England.”
"I'm sure you will.”
"Maybe for university,” Max suggested.
"To England?” I spluttered.
"Don't see why not, my professor studied at Sheffield for his Masters,” Max advised as Myleen, the train conductor reached us.

"Fährkarte?” Myleen requested on auto pilot, "Oh hi Gaby, Max, not seen you for a while Gaby.”
"Job placement, I'll be back after half term.” I told her.
"Its not the same without you girls up and down the valley,” she mused.

I passed my, er pass and Gran's day ticket over for inspection.

"A visitor?”
"My Oma, from England,” I supplied.
She turned her attention to Max, "What about you young man?”
"I'm not from England.”
"Max von Strechau, ever the comedian.”
"But you love me anyway,” he hammed.
"Try to keep him on a leash Gaby, have a good visit Oma.”

And off she trundled to terrorize more passengers.

"Later!” I called back to Max as the zug doors opened at the Dernau halt, to call it a station is over egging things, its not much more than an open platform at the end of the day.
 

"Dad, wasn't expecting you to be back,” I suggested when he greeted us a few minutes later.
"I've only just got back,” he told us, "Good day Josie?”
"Not bad Dave, could do with a cuppa though.”
"Hint taken, Gaby.”
"I need to get ready for cheer,” I announced before making my escape up to my eyrie.
 
A good day? Well any time with Gran is good so yeah, it was a good day. When I retrieved the crumpled note Gran forced on me it got even better, fifty euros, very handy indeed. Getting ready for cheer is of course quite simple, change into a sports bra, add a top and exercise tights, find my trainers, et voila – I'll put my hair up when I get there.

The tea was in the pot when I returned to the kitchen, Gran was busy making sandwiches for tea.

"Ham and tomato okay Gaby?”
"Er sure, you want this pouring?”
"Give it a stir first,” she directed.
"Where's Dad?”
"In his office I think, he was muttering something about flights.”
 

"Brought you a sandwich and tea,” I offered poking my head into the office.
"Cheers kiddo, guess you want running up?”
"It is our turn for taxi.”
"I get the message, ten minutes eh?”
"Sure, everything okay, Gran said something about flights.”
"Just a minor hiccup, soon have it sorted.”

 
Maddy Bell © 23.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 

Cheer was, well the usual really, mostly me and Han critiqueing the actual cheer team, even after a year of doing it it still seems a bit weird being the coach rather than coached. In between, the two of us discussed coachy things, Han has the diary filling up, competitions of course but appearances at a variety of 'events', some sporting, some like Karneval, just plain old demonstrations. Of course, whilst I'm sort of in charge of the routines, my own attendance at most of the fixtures is unlikely as is Mands participation, still thats as is, short of not racing thats not going to change any time soon.

Much as i'd have liked to spend Tuesday with Gran i'd previously arranged to be at the Kiosk so once i'd consummed my double pepperoni I took myself up to the eyrie for an early night.
 

It was an uneventful day at Connie's Kabin, apart from the sort of lunchtime rush, it was fairly slow which did allow me to do a thorough stock check – just as well, we were running a bit low on some stuff. A quick call to the wholesalers and we should be okay for the weekend. I guess drama is the last thing anyone in business needs but it doesn't make life very exciting for the staff, I was quite glad to mount the pink thing and return home through the winter gloom.

"So,” I started, "You know tomorrow?”
"What about it?” Dad asked.
"Gran said you were going into Frankfurt before the airport.”
"It has been mentioned,” he agreed as he fiddled with the gears on Manda's training bike.
"Well I was wondering,” I started.
"If you could come along?”
"Er yeah,” I agreed.
"Thought you were gonna be at the kiosk again?”
"Kris and Nena have got it covered,” I advised.
"Best ask your Gran, see if she wants you along.”

I hadn't even considered that I might not be welcome, its Gran we're talking here but of course, Dad's right, she put up with me all day Monday in Koblenz, maybe she wants to do her own thing tomorrow? No time like the present, I went out to the kitchen where Gran was busy making a Cottage pie for dinner.

"Need any help?”
"Gaby, you made me jump.”
"Sorry, help?”
"No thanks, I think I have everything under control.”
"I'll put these pans in the washer,” I suggested.
"A pot of tea would be nice,” she hinted.

Of course, I'm an attentative and dutiful grandaughter, I filled the kettle and switched it on.

"Would it be okay if I came to the airport tomorrow?”
"You asked your dad?”
"He said to ask you.”
"Hmm, I don't suppose the shops in Frankfurt would have anything to do with this desire to visit an airport?”
"I just thought it would be nice to see you off, you did come out for my birthday afterall.”

It was kind of the truth, just not all of it.

"As long as you don't keep plying me with cake, I hate using aircraft toilets.”
 

Of course, as is so often the case in the World of Bond it was never going to be that simple, Wednesday morning saw not just me, Dad and Gran in the Saab but I was sharing the back seat with Mand. For why? Well the rest of her fellow students, the A level lot that is, are off on an 'exchange' trip to Barcelona for half term, Mand couldn't go due to Tenerife so she finished up having the rest of this week off. I'm sure she had mentioned it before, doesn't mean I was listening, well properly that is.

"I thought we were going into Frankfurt?” I queried as we passed the junction for the sixty six, Frankfurt Nord/centrum.
"We are,” Dad mentioned over his shoulder.
"Isn't this the long way?”
"I guess it would be if thats where we were going.”

Now I was confused and even more so when we turned off the autobahn at the airport. Of course, like most airports, they don't make it easy to get to anything – well unless you arrive by air, so we did the roller coaster time around the block thing to get to the Parkhaus where Dad found a slot almost opposite Departures.

"Why are we here? Gran's flight isn't for hours.”
"I'm well aware of that kiddo.”

Gran and Manda were stoic in not contributiing to the conversation, I'm being wound up again aren't I?

"So?”
"What happens at four, five o'clock?”
"Rush hour?” I proposed.
"What time is your Gran's flight?”
"Seven?” I suggested.
"Well near enough,” Dad agreed, "So unless we want to sit in the airport for hours to miss the traffic....”

Lightbulb moment.

"We park here and get the train!”
"Geez Gab, for brain of Deutschland you can be a bit slow at times,” Mand observed.
"Huh!” I um, huhed.

We had to go into the terminal and down several escalators but we were soon winging our way on the S8 into the city centre a few kilometres away. When we pulled into Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof I was a little confused, we seemed to be underground and there weren't nearly enough platforms. All was revealed however at the top of the escalator, the mainline trains are all above in a huge hall.

It was a bit chilly outside but dry and bright, one of those winter days that confuses you into thinking Spring has sprung. Having not been to central Frankfurt before we stayed together for the short walk along Kaiserstraße to the central shopping zone.

"Coffee anyone?” Dad enquired.

Well its been, I dunno, at least three hours since breakfast, I wasn't the only one needing a caffeine boost. I'm not a great fan of their homogenised output but Dad steered us into a nearby Starbucks™ - well he's paying.

"So what do you girls want to do?” Dad asked once we had coffee in hand.
"Look 'round the shops? I still need a new cossie.” I mentioned.
"Manda?”
"I should probably look for some proper sandals, but I could get them on the island I suppose.”
"Cheap tourist tat,” I suggested.
"Or expensive,” Gran mentioned, "They have a captive market.”
"Yeah,” Mand agreed.
"Josie, what about you, want to go anywhere in particular?”
"Just a mooch around Dave, is there a C&A?”
"I'm sure there is. Okay, how about this, you girls go do your shopping, me and Gran'll find C&A and have a look around, we can meet up later for something to eat before going back to the airport. How does that sound?”
Mand shrugged, "Sure.”
"Gab?”
"I guess,” much as I love her, shopping with Gran isn't 'fun' exactly and we did that on Monday.
"Well thats that settled,” Gran allowed with maybe a hint of relief in her voice.
"What time?” I asked.
Dad did the countback thing, "We need to be on a train about five at the latest, four in the main concourse? That gives you about five hours for shopping.”
"I'm sure we can fill that,” Mand opined.
"If you are going to be late for any reason ring, worst case we can meet at the airport,” Dad instructed.
"Okay.”

And so it was that ten minutes later Mand and I set off on our quest for beach wear!
 

"What about this?” Mand suggested waving what amounted to three tiny triangles of leopardskin lycra at me.
"Seriously?”
"Thought it was just your style.”
"Hardly, who buys this stuff?”

My question was sort of answered when a similar costume was waved about by another shopper, an over tanned, over painted, over age woman carrying a bit too much extra flesh to really carry off a bikini, let alone an animal print example. Mand and I looked at the woman, at each other and made a strategic withdrawal before falling about in hysterics. I just hope she hadn't heard us.

By contrast, Mand's sandal buying had actually been straight forward, we stumbled on the Birkenstock™ store who had some clearance lines, not cheap even then but de Vreen homed in on the one pair with seventy five percent off, that just happened to be her size and whilst the blue was a bit darker, they were pretty close to our team strip blue. One happy shopper which left me and the search for swimwear.

Maybe H&M™ isn't the best place for practical pool clothing so we decamped for stores as yet unexplored! Okay, the big name stores can be much of a muchness, its the small local ones that make exploring a new city 'exciting'. Mand spotted a contender when we came out of the Galeria, a place called Sportscheck™, well it was worth a go.

We headed in, there was the usual football and running stuff but there was a bit of other stuff too, hiking, racquets, even some bike gear. Okay, maybe you wouldn't come here for performance stuff but they had some big brand stuff which looked okay. And there, next to the yoga mats, swimwear! Yay, not only that but this stuff was actually intended for in the pool rather than around it, I was smitten already.

Mand's attention was taken with some trainers across the store so I was left in peace to check out what was on offer. I found a couple that I liked, a bright yellow race style affair and a more nautical white and blue example, complete with an anchor motif. I went to find Mand for a second opinion, by now she'd lost interest in trainers and was looking at walking shorts of all things.

"What do you reckon?” I asked holding my two options up for inspection.
"Depends.”
"Not helpful.”
She let out a sigh, "Why do you need a cossie?”
"For swimming next week.”
"And?”
"Maybe going to the beach? So which one?”

She took each one from me in turn, making a performance of checking the cut, opacity and stitching.

"Hmm.”
"So?”
"If it was me...”
"Yes?”
"I'd get them both.”
"But I only need one and they're like forty euro each.”
"Gab, didn't you see the board?”
"Eh?”
"The one that says fifty percent off all swimwear?”
"You're kidding.”
"Nope,” she turned me around and pointed to the huge placard hanging above the swim department.
"Oh, that sign.”
"That sign, get them both for the price of one.”

Put like that it was a no brainer.
 

Shopping mission complete, we returned to the main shopping street, Zell and were quickly tempted by a Frite stand. Yeah I know we are eating with Dad and Gran in a bit but we were both ready for a break from the shops and what better way than chips and lemonade?

"What now?” my companion queried.

I looked at my watch, a little before three so an hour before we are due to rejoin Dad and Gran.

"Start heading to the station?”
"If there's a Drogerie I could do with some shampoo and stuff for next week.”
"Good idea Batgirl, I think I saw one on the way up.”

 
Well we didn't see the pharmacy, we might've been distracted by the cheapo boutique who, even in February were selling t shirts and vest tops at silly prices like three euros! At that sort of price it doesn't matter so much if they don't last that well, they'll be ideal for next week. Mand got a couple of T's and I found a pretty cami top, a cap sleeved T and multi coloured sarong thing that would work with the yellow cossie – yes I did buy them both.

On the plus side there was an Apotheke in the station concourse and we still had over twenty minutes before we were meeting the others. That left us with time to look at the collection of small kiosks in the centre of the concourse, candles, postage stamps, 'ethnic' house decoration stuff and, oh my god, one selling Deutche Bahn stuff. Not a model railway stall as such, there were model trains but model cars and trucks, even buses, cheek by jowel with books and other themed items.

"If you're looking at that stuff, I'm gonna go find a seat,” Manda told me.
"Okay, won't be long.”

I might be a certified XX holder but that doesn't mean I can't like trains and stuff does it? Mind you, at some of these prices like may well be the limit of things, four hundred euro for a model train? Ouch. On the other hand a set of three DB Volkswagen transporters was a more affordable twenty, I was into my purse in a flash.

"There you are,” Dad noted when I crossed to the seating area.
"Here I am.”
"Lets go find some food.”

As you might expect in a railway station, whilst there was plenty of choice most of the food outlets were geared towards eating on the hoof. Several do have seating but we didn't really want sandwiches or food served on a paper plate. Having spent ten minutes looking about, we were on the point of giving up when Dad spotted what turned out to be a proper sit down restaurant hidden behind a takeaway counter.

"This is nice,” Gran suggested once we were seated.

And indeed it was, a restrained décor, proper tableclothes and a bevy of young men serving table, you could almost call it posh. It wasn't the cheapest of places and the menu was a bit heavy towards steak and pasta but on the other hand we were in before the evening rush and it was a quite relaxing atmosphere.

"So did you get your costume?” Gran enquired once we'd ordered.

Of course that meant a telling of our tale and Dad's surprise that we hadn't found the designer stores just around the corner from where we had coffee. Dang, I really will have to come again, wonder if the girls would be up for a trip?

Fed, we made tracks, get it? Oh never mind, we headed down to the S-Bahn, catching an S9 that pulled in as we got to the platform.

"You alright Gran?” I asked as we jounced under Frankfurt city centre.
"Just a bit tired luv,” she replied forcing a smile.
"Maybe you can get some sleep on the plane,” I suggested.
"Its only like an hour,” Mand observed.
"A bit more, I'm sure it was an hour and a half at Chrimbo.”
"Its still hardly long enough to sleep properly,” Mand persisted.
"You going to be okay driving home Josie?” Dad asked.
"I'll be fine.”
 

At the airport, Mand and I went with Gran to Departures whilst Dad went to fetch her bag from the car. We found the check in desk and stood waiting for Pater.

"Thanks for coming Gran, you didn't have to.”
"What, miss my grandaughters birthday.”
"Thanks Gran,” I told her moving in for a teary hug
"There now girl, I'll see you again soon, your Dad's hoping to get you all over in the Spring, so I'll see you then and you know my phone number eh?”
"Yes Gran.”
"Now come on, less of those tears or you'll have me at it too.”
"Mr B's just coming,” Mand advised as I extricated myself.
"I um, got you something,” I mentioned, scrabbling into my handtasche.
"Everything okay?” Dad enquired from behind me.
"Just having a moment Dave,” Gran told him.
"Its not much but I thought you'd like it.”

I handed Gran the envelope that i'd written out when I used the lav at the restaurant.

"Do I open it now?”
"Up to you.”
"Maybe I'll save it until later eh.”
"We should get you checked in Josie,” Dad prompted.
 

We walked along to security where we said our final farewells, waiting until she disappeared into the tax free shopping to join her fellow travellers. Of course we'll be doing the same on Friday, but instead of gloomy Cheshire we'll be flying to the sunny Canaries. It was with a heavy heart though that I followed the others back to the Parkhaus, to the car for the hour or so drive back to Dernau.
 

Josie wandered along the concourse towards her departure gate, pausing only to buy chocolate for her best friend and a bag of Haribo™ bears for herself, a habit picked up from her daughter. The flight hadn't been called yet so she found a seat and pulled out the envelope Gabrielle had given her. It was definitely from a young woman, no longer a child, neat handwriting just stated 'Gran' on the front of the lilac paper.

Inside was the expected card, the cursive script was in German but its message was clear enough as was her grandchilds message inside. But there was something else too, wrapped in tissue paper (how appropriate), a small lump which when unwrapped turned out to be a pretty amber brooch. Sniffing to stop herself from crying, Josie pinned the brooch to her cardigan, 'thank you Gaby'.

"Would all passengers for flight LH two four seven to Manchester please make their way to gate B twenty seven.”
 
Maddy Bell © 25.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"What are you up to today kiddo?” Dad enquired as I put a second round of toast in the toaster.
"I need to see Nena at the kiosk and you've got us down for a hundred K, thought we could combine the two?”
"Anything else?”
"Er.”
"Packing Gab's,” Mand suggested, breezing into the kitchen, far too awake for seven thirty, "Morning!”
"Morning Amanda, someone's bright and breezy this morning,” Dad opined.
"No school and a week in Tenerife, whats not to like?”
"Four hours slogging around the Eifel?” I suggested.
"Seriously?” she sighed as I burst her balloon.
"Seriously,” Dad confirmed, "Neither of you have done much this week and you won't get a chance tomorrow, if you don't want to start the training camp on the wrong foot, you need to at least loosen the cobwebs.”
Mand sighed, "Bum.”
"I'll shout for lunch,” I offered.
"At the kiosk?”
"And what's wrong with the kiosk?”
"Did I say there was anything wrong?”
"Girls,” Dad interrupted, "I'm not bothered where you eat or in what order you do stuff but I would like your bags in the car tonight, I don't want any last minute panics in the morning.”
"I suppose we have to take the team frocks?” Mand queried.
"I'd pack them just in case, I don't know what George has got planned.”
"Joy, thats half the case taken up.” I moaned.
"But cozzies and t shirts don't take the space of jumpers and jeans,” Mand pointed out.

I guess there are plusses and minus's to the whole malarky.

"What about bike gear?” Mand asked.
"Shoes and underwear, we'll be launching the new strip on Saturday although on second thoughts, bring a set of summer gear along.”
"What about helmets?”
"Big league now girls, George has signed a deal with MET for everyones lids.”
"When you say launch,” I started as I buttered my hot toast, "As in press, cameras and stuff?”
"He didn't mean sending us into space,” Mand brown nosed.
"Yes, the press will be there Gab, why?”
"Just wondering.”
 

"Wonder what the new kit'll be like?” de Vreen mused as we rode tempo towards Bruhl.

We're doing a sort of reverse 'Ring ride to get the miles in before we get to the Kabin, Bruhl, follow the Vulcan Express line up to Engeln then over the top past the ring, Adenau and down to Altenahr. There's nothing too dramatic, well its a bit of a pull up to Engeln, a workout for sure but nothing to get too excited by.

"Not that we'll get much chance to wear it,” I noted.
"How so?”
"Me Weltmeister, you National champ?”
"Oh yeah, cool!”

Thats certainly one way of looking at it, but from experience, the main thing these special jerseys do is make your life more difficult when you are racing, you might as well wear a flashing light and sign saying 'watch me'. Its cool to have them, but it can be a bit of a rod too.

"Probably the same as this stuff,” I suggested plucking at my sleeve.
"Some of the pro teams change every year.”
"I don't think Apollinaris quite have US Postal's budget,” I pointed out.
"I guess, it'd be nice though.”

I suppose I am a liitle curious myself, as long as its not a repeat of 'that' photo shoot in Bonn after the World Champs!

"We are getting team helmets though,” I pointed out.
"Just as well,” Mand noted, "My race hat's looking a bit tired.”
"Well you've had the same one since i've known you.”
"The rents got it for me to go to Manchester,” she advised.
"My point exactly.”

I've had about three helmets in that time, well I like to look my best okay?
 

We settled into a companionable silence, keeping a steady twenty five kmh average along the Rheinstraße. The forecast didn't include wet but the grey skies suggested that might not hold true once we head up into the hills. Rather than cut through Bruhl we stayed on the main road, taking instead the last turn that takes you past the tourist railway station.

Once clear of the town we settled back into a kilometre munching cadence, its not a hard climb, well except for that bit at Engeln, but climb it is. When its running, its good fun trying to beat the train to the crossings but not today, today its just a few locals hurtling around. Up through the trees and into the open valley, bridged high above by the A61 autobahn then into Niederzissen. There's always traffic through the village but we got through and onto the lane up to Brenk.

You can of course just follow it through Brenk to be spat out on the main road but where's the fun in that? No, as we usually do when we come this way, we took a right and looped through the village onto the even tinier lane up to the Hohesbahnhof and Engeln. The last pull up to the station gets a bit intense in places but its the long drag up to the village that sorts the women from the girls, its brutal!

At least you get the drop to Kempenich afterwards, even if the road surface is a bit dodgy in places. Of course, its the four one two then, nearly all the way to the Ring and we turned under the track to take the old road up to the village.

Doesn't matter when you come up here, there always seem to be cars on the track and today was no exception. We could hear more than see stuff, the scream of engines dragging their machinery up the Döttinger Höhe straight, the doppler effect reverberating around the mountain top as they brake into Tiergarten.

Instead of going out around the GP circuit, we took the cycle path around the inside of the track which deposited us on the road down through Quiddelbach and on to Adenau. Its a nice fast bit of road, one to avoid at weekends as its full of motor bikes but today our only competition for the tarmac was a tractor pulling a slurry tank – we didn't stay behind him for long! Once we cleared Adenau its almost flat most of the way to Altenahr but we were a bit short on distance.

"Liersbachtal?” I suggested.
"Really?”
"Its not that bad.”
"She says.”

Well okay, the six closely spaced hairpins can be a bit of a challenge but we're supposed to be top athletes right?

"Extra pommes?” I suggested.
"Whatever,” Mand allowed, not that our route was ever in doubt.

We took the turn into Lier and started the steady ascent of the valley alongside the Liersbach, its really nice in the summer but the bare trees today let you see too far, even the tower Wensburg visible high through the trees. It gets a little steeper on the approach to Oblier, flattens through the hamlet then boom! The road goes straight up the hillside.

Its not long, the ramps are each only about a hundred metres but by golly its steep, twenty, twenty five percent, steeper on the turns – even if you are expecting it, its a lung buster. Eighteen months ago Mand would've been struggling with a capital S but these days she's more comfortable and stronger on the climbs. There was nothing beyond pride at stake today though, we climbed side by side through the first couple of ramps, only an on coming 4x4 causing us to single out gave me any advantage.

Its difficult to come back on a climb like this, especially if you are fairly evenly matched. Well I must admit to turning the screw another half turn through turn four, I don't think she noticed. Not that I pushed the advantage, by the T junction at the top I was still only about thirty metres in front.

"You bugger!” Mand gasped out as we started the roll down to Lind and our eventual return to the Ahrtal.
"What?”
"After that pickup.”
"Nuisance that,” I offered.
"I'll get my revenge Gabrielle Bond.”

Its not quite ten K from the top down to the Kiosk, a distance we covered in just under twenty minutes.
 

"Training?” Kris suggested from the hatch as we parked our steeds in the 'garden'.
"Alright for some,” Nen called past her, "Hi Amanda.”
"Hi guys,” Mand returned, "Titch is treating me to lunch.”
"I can change my mind.”
"We weren't supposed to be racing.”
"I wasn't, the legs just went a bit faster.”
"Coffee I take it,” Kris interrupted.
"Er yeah, please and Currywürst with the works twice.”
"You'll get fat.”
"They're not both for me smart arse.”
"Well I need a wee,” Mad announced.
"Its open,” Nen called out.

Its February, the tables aren't out so I borrowed the keys and released a couple of chairs – you don't think I'm standing up to eat do you? Mand and lunch appeared at the same time, two plates loaded with pommes, a big dollop of mayo and lurking underneath the sliced würst in its picant sauce all topped off with a dusting of paprika.

"Ooh, calories!” Mand slobbered taking her plate from Nen.
"I really don't know where you girls put it.”
"Out on the road?" I suggested, sampling a chip as I settled into my chair.
"Glad I don't pay your food bills,” Kris stated.
"We don't eat that much,” Mand offered between a forkfull of pommes and a chunk of sausage.
"If you say so, more coffee?”

As ride fuel English sausage and chips is probably better, neither are recommended as ride food but sometimes eating what you fancy is more important than all the calorie counting and balancing the carb to protein content.
 

"So when are you off?” Nen asked as I loaded our dirty crockery into the washer.
"Tomorrow morning.”
"Lucky you, sun, sea and sand.”
"And bikes, don't forget the bikes.”
"Yeah but I bet you got a new cossie.”
"Erm, two, they were on a half price deal in this place in Frankfurt.”
"Frankfurt?”
"On the way to the airport with Gran.”
"Don't suppose there'll be any beaches when we're on tour.”
"Dunno, might be worth taking stuff, just in case.”
"Its only like five weeks away.”
"Second thoughts?”
"Nah, you?”
"Second, third and fourth,” I admitted.
"It'll be fine 'Erd'.”
"If you say so 'Misty'.”
 
"What are you two plotting?” Mand enquired coming in through the back door.
"Just talking about BlauHase.”
"Whatever, we need to get home to pack.”
"You haven't packed?” Nen exclaimed.
"Well, not as such.”
"Not at all,” de Vreen supplied.
"There's plenty of time.”
"Thats what they said on the Titanic.”
"Okay, I'll be with you in a couple of minutes, I need to go over some stuff with Nen before we go.”
My herder sighed, "I'll get another coffee.”
 
"Sorted?” Mand enquired some fifteen minutes later.
"Think so,” I agreed pulling my gloves back on.
"So what was so important?”
"Making sure this place doesn't run out of Frites.”
"Thought Connie's mum did that?”
"Its supposed to be me and Con but what with college and being closed for a bit, we've got a bit out of the habit.”
"A bosses work is never done.”
"Something like that,” I agreed taking my steed from her.

"How much stuff do you think we need to take?” Mand queried as we pottered back down the hill.
"You mean apart from the swimming cossies?”
"Well duh!”
"Same as if I was going on holiday I guess, few tops, shorts, something a bit dressier in case we go out to eat.”
"Not dressy like Sunday though.”
"Yeah, that probably would be a bit over the top,” I agreed.
"I suppose we will have the team dresses.”
"As a last resort!”

To be fair, the whole idea of the dresses isn't so bad, its having to wear them away from the race concept that bugs me, and the others I think. When we all kick up somewhere it does look pretty impressive, very professional and for all we get from the team, wearing them is a small price to pay. But it still sucks sometimes.
 

Dad was waiting for us when we got back.

"Long lunch was it?”
"I told you I had stuff to do at the Kabin.”
"Well you're here now I guess, get your bags sorted, anyone fancy Chinese tonight?”
"Sit in or takeaway?”
"Does it matter?”
"Only in what she dresses in,” Mand told him.
"Sit in then.”
"She shoots, she scores!”
"Gaby!” they both complained.
"What?”
"Change, pack?” Dad suggested.
"On it!”

I know I should be better at this packing malarky, and I think I have improved, but trying to foresee every eventuality is a nightmare. I forget who told me but the advice was to get everything out to take, then halve it – it might still be too much but its a start. So a dozen tops became six, three posh outfits became two, no stilts just some dressy sandals – well you get the idea.

It took me an hour or so but I was quite chuffed, there was even room for the cycling kit. Cycling shoes, dammit, I knew there was something else. So okay, nearly everything went in my case, a few bits would have to go in my hand luggage.

Of course, given my track record, I then had to convince Dad I had everything.

"Passport?”
I flourished the document, "Here!”
"Bike shoes?”

I showed him the footwear.

"I'm impressed, you only forgot your knickers this time.”
"They were under the case.”
"But not in it,” he pointed out.

Well they're in it now so I'll not argue. I wasn't the only one to get the kit check, miss perfect de Vreen's stuff got the once over too.

"Ready to eat?”

When am I not? And its not like we get to the restaurant and eat straight away is it, it'll be best part of another hour before the Won Ton soup arrives.

"Lead on,” I enthused.
 
Eat in Chinese, without going down to Remagen, is restricted to the Ibis restaurant, a couple of 'asian' places or the Mandarin near the Bad Neuenahr bahnhof. The Mandarin wins hands down, you can actually park nearby, the food is good and its not too expensive. Dad had booked a table while we girls were packing, not that its usually full this time of the week.

We piled out to the car and fifteen minutes later we were parked in the huge car park almost opposite. Its been dry all day, if a little woolly around the edges but of course it now decided to rain, just as well i'd gone for the casual, jeans and jumper look, I had debated not wearing a coat but I was well glad that I had my ski jacket on for the short walk to dinner.

Its not the first time we've eaten here of course, Mum in particular likes Chinese so we probably eat here five or six times a year, not often enough to get too familiar with the menu but enough that you know what to expect. The décor is quite modern and restrained, none of the usual over the top Chinese iconography favoured in many establishments but it smells like a Chinese restaurant!

You know the sort of stuff on the menu right? Well I had a number six, a forty three …. just kidding. We often get one of the set meals but tonight we went 'cordon bleu', I had the hot and sour soup, beef chow mein and finished off with the battered banana with ice cream. The others were similarly restrained in their choices, the last thing you need is to be caught short on the plane.

Not that the simple menu choices were any quicker to arrive at table, it was after nine by the time we'd had dessert – coffee we can do back at Chez Bond. The rain was still persisting down, are we bothered? Not in the least, this time tomorrow we'll be in sunny Tenerife, well it might not be sunny at this time I suppose, but you get the drift.
 

"We need to be at the airport for eleven,” Dad told us over the cocoa (well it was that sort of time).
"So what time are we leaving?” Mand asked.
"Nine absolute latest.”
"So we'll have time for breakfast?”
"I was thinking we'd go around to Thesings,” Dad mentioned.
"Works for me,” I grinned, oh yeah, decent coffee and no washing up!
"Don't be too late going to bed, I'm gonna take this up with me.”
"We won't,” Mand replied.
"Nite Dad.”
"G'nite girls.”
 
Maddy Bell © 27.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
To be honest I didn't sleep well, no that's not right, I slept very well its just that there wasn't a lot of it. Oh I wasn't feeling ill or worrying about anything, nope, it was excitement, excitement on so many levels – seeing my friends, getting to ride my new steed, the apres ride and we're flying to get there.

So okay, the last isn't exciting per se, i've flown a few times now, Canada, the US, Japan – regular globetrotter me but still, I like flying and today its quite a long one, I think Dad said four hours or something.

But despite my fitful slumber and my usual aversion to mornings, I was awake and dressing for the day before my alarm sounded. We might be going to the African coast but here in the Rhineland Palatinate its still winter so I decided on a layered approach. Okay, not exactly haute couture but practical, short summer dress, footless dance tights, cardigan on top, trainers on feet – I can lose the cardi and tights when we get there.

Okay, I had made an effort to co-ordinate things, I even had a scrunchy that matched, bit of lippy, quick lick of massy et voila. I made sure I had my phone and charger, added a jaunty pair of dangly earrings to my ensemble and headed downstairs.

"Morning!” I sang out, yeah I wasn't my usual tardy self but Mand and Dad still beat me to the kitchen.
"Someones full of beans this morning,” Mand suggested.
"Not yet, coffee?”
"Instant,” Dad supplied.
"Really?”
"Well unless you want to clean the machine down before we leave in, oh, fifteen minutes?” he queried.

To be fair, its not so bad, instant it might be but its Douwe Egberts™, at least it tastes like coffee. I could just about wait until we get to Thesing's but its just wrong leaving the house 'dry'.

I gave a sigh, "Instant it is then.”

Of course the same applied to any thoughts of food, we're away for a week so other than cereal, Frustück materials are a bit short and even then there was no milk.

"You are taking a coat?” Dad enquired as I waited for the kettle.
"Yeah,” I confirmed.
"Sugar!” Mand exclaimed, "Jacket!”

Its not just me who can forget stuff.

 
"Morning Gaby, don't see you here at this time much these days, you just missed Connie.”
"Morning Therese, off to the airport,” I advised, ”three breakfasts please and three coffees.”
"You want the eggs hard or soft?”
"Er soft please.”
"Connie said you were off somewhere, somewhere warm I'm guessing?” Therese mentioned as she put our order through the till.
"Tenerife, training camp for the Radteam.”
"Very nice, thirteen fifty.”
"Oh and can I have three Streusal to go as well.”
"Sixteen fifty then,” she adsvised taking my proferred twenty note. "I'll bring it over.”
"Thanks.”

"Okay kiddo?” Dad asked as I slid into the booth, the same one that the Angels used to favour.
"Yep. This brings back memories.”
"Hark at the old woman,” Mand scoffed.
"It does,” I replied defensively, "Me and the girls used to sit here every morning.”
"Every morning?”
"Well school days obviously,” I let out a sigh, "I miss that.”
"You miss having two breakfasts,” Mand scoffed.
"And?”

A Thesing's breakfast is like a condensed version of the spread popular in many German households, a pot of joghurt, boiled egg, a couple of rolls, cheese, sliced ham and to dress it up, a bit of salad stuff. Its quite filling, maybe a bit less than i'd have at home but for today, it'll take us through to our check in, we can get coffee to go with our Streusal then. Its very easy to lose track of time though as you get distracted by other customers, whats going on outside and so on.

"You both about done?” Dad queried.
"Uh huh,” Mand supplied.
"Pretty much, we've got a few minutes yet.”
"I know I said nine,” Dad started, "But i'd rather have extra time at the airport than sitting here.”
"S'pose.”
"Well I'm ready,” de Vreen stated.
"Okay, I just need a wee.”

"Have a good time,” Therese offered.
"We'll try,” Dad opined.
"Thanks, say hi to Con for me.”
"I will, tschuss.”
"Bye!”

 
In truth, by the time we'd got sorted, used the facilities, walked around to the car and set off, our 'early' had turned to late, well only a couple of minutes but nevertheless, it was after nine. On the plus side, that meant we missed the tail end commuters heading down the valley and we were soon heading down the autobahn almost at Mumspeed. We usually cross the Rhein and get on the Köln motorway but today Dad kept us on the west bank almost to Mainz and without the drop out of the Taunus, arrival at the airport was almost a surprise.

"Right, I'll drop you two with the bags at the terminal before I park the car.”
“'kay, we'll go through to check in.”
"By the meeting point, I don't want to be searching the airport for you.”
"Yes Dad.”

The traffic on the terminal approach was slow of course, rather than wait until we reached the official drop off zone, Mand and I hopped out before we got that far, it was a bit further to walk but Dad could get out of the queue and be away to the parking a good few minutes faster. We might not have bikes with us but three suitcases and our cabin bags required a trolley, Mand spotted a stray one and we were soon inside the cavernous building.

Was it only Wednesday when I was here with Gran? Seems like longer but I recognised where we were and was able to direct de Vreen and our luggage through to the Lufthansa check in hall. The meeting point is pretty obvious and we arrived just as a couple of seats were vacated, timing or what! This is the bit of flying I get nervous about, I always want to get checked in and through security asap, waiting on the 'wrong' side of all that just seems wrong.

"Give over Gab,” Mand demanded.
"What?”
"You've been up and down like a flippin' yo-yo for the last ten minutes.”
"He should be here by now.”
"Its not like we're short of time.”

True enough but nevertheless...

"Ready?” Dad enquired a full thirty minutes after dropping us off.
“'bout time, thought something had happened to you.”
"Come on, there's an empty desk,” Mand enthused, suddenly leaping into action.

I think she was starting to get concerned by how long Dad was gone even if she was doing the cucumber bit.

"So?” I queried as Dad and I trailed in the wake of the SS de Vreen.
"They had one of car park entrances closed and then I couldn't find a slot until the seventh level, I didn't think I did too bad considering.”

Check in was a cinch, we even got through security without too long a wait so we did actually have best part of an hour before our flight was called. A trawl through the duty free outlets supplied some 'in flight' Haribo™, Dad got himself a copy of The Guardian and we had time to get coffee to go with our Streusel. They don't call the flights as such, everyone's watching the departure boards and drifting towards their Gate's until the magic 'open' appears.

It was clear from our fellow travellers garb that mostly they were off for some winter sun, there was a small group who stood out as radfahrer by their demeanour and conversation, I guess we look more the former than latter. Of course, most flights at Frankfurt involve a bus ride out to your plane, you'd think they'd get that sorted a bit better but we were soon climbing the steps to our air transport. You have allocated seating of course, none of the free for all i've seen on some of the budget airlines, we had D,E and F on row twelve, the plane had that 'new' smell, probably because it was, an Airbus A320 according to the safety card.

By the time we'd done rock, paper, scissors to see who got the window, stowed our bags and coats and organised our little flight 'cave', the crew were closing the lockers and checking seat belts. Then it was the interminable taxiing during which we had the safety talk but despite being in a queue for the runway we didn't stop, rather the pilot just let her have it and within moments we had that little lurch as we broke gravities pull and we were airborne.
 

I'll not bore you with the flight, all four and a half hours of it, but I got through a big bag of Gummi Bears, had three cups of coffee and the inflight meal, chicken salad with a roll and until we left Europe behind, spent much of the time trying to work out where we were.

"That it?” Mand enquired peering over my shoulder.
"Guess so, there's a big mountain.”

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are now on our final approach to San Cristóbal where the temperature is a pleasant twenty three centigrade and the local time is five pm so reset those watches. We hope that you've had a pleasant flight and look forward to welcoming you back to Lufthansa in the future.”

"Like how do we get home otherwise, duh!” Mand suggested.
"Ferry,” Dad mentioned, "The seniors and team truck with all the bikes came from Huelva last night. George did suggest we did the same but the logistics didn't add up.”
"Yeah, like two days driving for starters,” I scoffed.
"That and flights are pretty cheap,” Dad advised.

We were on terra firma before we knew it and unlike Frankfurt, Tenerife Nord is a small enough airport that we were soon at the terminal and disembarking along one of those arm things. Passport control was quickly cleared then it was through to the luggage belts, landing to 'what now', under thirty minutes.

"Right,” Dad started, "Wait here and I'll go sort out our transport.”
"Can we sit outside?”Mand asked.
"Okay but don't wander too far, I shouldn't be long.”

Where have I heard that before? So with that, Dad headed to the car hire and Mand and me headed to the sunshine.

"Wish i'd thought of that,” Mand moaned.
"You either have it or not,” I grinned back, pulling my tights off to expose my pins to the late afternoon sunshine.
"Not sure what it is you've got but those gulls are giving you a funny look.”
"Har de har.”
"Hey, I think thats your Dad.” Mand pointed across to where a sort of goldy coloured VW Transporter had just pulled up.
"Geez, that was quick.”
"Well don't just sit there, come on,” de Vreen urged, once again in charge of the luggage trolley.
 
"What now?”
"Hotel?” I offered.
"Not yet, Darren's flight gets here in about,” Dad checked his watch, "Five minutes.”
"When do the others arrive?”
"They should already be here, they were due in about the same as us but at the other airport,” Dad advised.
"We got to collect them too?” Mand asked.
"No, they're getting a taxi, we should be at the hotel complex before them, looks like our boy just coming in now.”

We all craned to see the incoming flight, one of those Ryanair things, yeah like we'd actually be able to see Daz.

"You two waiting here?”
"Whatever,” I sighed.

Yeah, I like flying, its all the waiting about associated with it thats not much fun.

"You can come if you want,” Dad offerred.
"I could do with a lav.”
"Mand?”
"I'll stay here Mr B.”
"Okay, come on then kiddo, lets go find Mr Fox.”
 

Back inside the terminal building we made our way to the arrivals gate, via the facilities of course, we didn't wait long before the first few passengers came through looking decidedly the worse for drink and noisy with it. They continued in dribs and drabs until I spotted our man coming through.

"Daz, over here!” I bounced and waved to get his attention.
The frown that was on his face lifted when he saw us, "Gab, Mr Bond.”
"Good flight?” I queried, well there are rules of engagement at airports right.
"Bloody awful, a load of drunks, two babies and no leg room.”

A woman walked behind Daz with an apparently comotose babe in her arms – figures.

"So how about you guys?”
"Nothing half as exciting,” I allowed.
"Where's your case?” Dad queried.
"Not got one,” Daz unshouldered some sort of rucsack affair, “'s all in here.”
"I wish my daughter travelled that light,” Dad mumbled, "Come on Amanda'll be wondering where we've got to.”
 
"How far is it to this hotel place?” Daz asked as Dad navigated out of the airport spaghetti and onto the TF5 Autopista, the main route along the northwest side of the island.
"About twenty five kilometres, we should be there in about fifteen, twenty minutes.”
"Sounds a right place,” Daz mentioned, "a couple of blokes from the club have been, said its got everything.”
"As long as its got a bed I'll be happy,” Mand voiced from the back row of seating.
"Probably camping on the beach.” I suggested.
"Better not be.”

The road to Puerto de la Cruz could be anywhere in southern Europe, parched fields alternating with whitewashed housing, shell warehousing and blue skies, except of course its not, in Europe that is, the Canaries might be part of Spain but they're closer to the Atlantic coast of Morocco so technically they are part of Africa as far from Spain as Lands End is from John o'Groats.

"Look at that place, up on the hill,” I suggested spotting a huge building sat high above the motorway a short way ahead.
"George said you could see it from the autobahn,” Dad told us, "Next junction then right at the Shell station.”
"We staying there?” Mand asked.
"Well its where George said to bring you.”

Damn, maybe I shoulda brought a posher dress with me.
 
Once off the motorway it was but a couple of minutes before we were climbing the lump of lava that the Hotel Las Aguilas sits atop of. Geez, I hope there's another way up! And there, parked off at one corner of the car parking were the senior squad vehicles, bus, truck and George's BMW, guess this is the place.

By the time we'd parked and dragged our bags and selves to reception we had a small welcoming committee, George, Kat and I guess the tall, thin individual is something to do with the hotel.

"Dave! Good trip?” George asked.
"Had worse,” Dad replied shaking the boss' hand, "How was the ferry?”
"Not cheap enough, so this I take it is Mr Fox?”
"It is,” Dad agreed, "Darren, you remember George from last year?”
"Er sure,” Daz replied as he was clearly trying to decipher the German. "Erm, danker Herr Mooler.”
"We will work on the Deutsche eh Dave?”
"He'll soon pick it up,” Dad stated.

Yeah, George's English isn't great but its better than Daz's German!

"So,” George went on, "The girls are out for a short spin before dinner so lets get you settled in eh. Oh, introductions, Miguel here is liason with the hotel, anything you need, want to know, he's your man. Miguel, this is Dave Bond, Jungere team manager, the tiny one is his tochter Gaby, our Weltmeisterin.”
"Nice to meet you Dave, jungere, Katia has your room cards so I'll leave you to settle in, I shall see you at dinner later.”

Miguel made tracks, George dragged Dad off to what looked like the bar which left the four of us in reception.

"Long time no see Katia.”
"Gabrielle.”

We exchanged a hug.

"Hi Kat,” Mand offered.
"Looking good de Vreen, and the new boy, Darren, welcome on board the mad ship.”
"So, where are we staying?” I hinted.
"Come, we've got almost a whole floor on this side,” Pinger advised leading the way out of reception.

"Its a bit posh,” Mand opined as we padded along the carpeted corridor of the fourth floor.
"Not many,” I agreed.
"The rooms are the same as anywhere,” Kat stated, "So Darren, you'll be with Josh in four one two, you two are in four seventeen.”
"Cool,” Daz allowed opening the door.
"See you in a bit Daz.”
"Sure.”
We dragged our cases along to four seventeen, "I'm across the way with Petra, i'd best get back down for the others.”
"So when, where is dinner?” Mand asked before Kat could disapear.
"Seven thirty in the restaurant.”
"Do we need to dress up?” I just had to ask.
"Just tidy eh, I know you Gaby Bond.”
"Guess that rules out the bikini then.”

Kat just shook her head.
 
The room, as Kat had said, was just a room. So okay there's a balcony, you could just about swing a cat and there's carpet on the floor, nice but not exceptional.

"What time did she say for dinner?” I queried with my roomie.
"Seven thirty.”
"Sugar, thats in like ten minutes!”
"Can't be.”
I checked my watch again, yep seven twenty, "It is, look.”
But instead of looking at my time piece she pulled out her phone, "No its not, its not six thirty, bags of time.”
"How can it be six something, we didn't get here until seven, I checked.”
"Check your phone.”
I dug my Handy out, huh? "Six twenty one, how's that possible?”
"Guess you weren't listening when we landed.”
"To what?”
"The pilot? He said it wasn't CET here. Talk about dumb blonde.”

Well to be honest i'd never thought we'd be in a different time zone to home, we didn't change when we were in Spain last year but I guess this is further west.

"It slipped my mind.”
"If you say so.”

 
Maddy Bell © 28.02.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
Even with the extra hour to sort ourselves out, we were still running the appointed eating hour quite close by the time we were sorted. I took Kat at her word, I did have a quick shower but rather than break out a whole new outfit, just for dinner, it was fresh undies and the frock that I flew out in. Add a bit of slap, sandals rather than trainers and one smart casual Gaby ready and present for eating!

With the whole team on the same corridor it was inevitable we'd see someone else as we made our way to the eatery, we caught up with Erika and Tina at the lift.

"Hi guys.”
"Ah, our rainbow warrior,” Erika stated, "Hungry as usual eh?”
"You can go off people.”
"But then who'd you race cross with.”
"You're both looking fit,” Mand opined and indeed the girls were tanned and looking pretty sharp.
"Looks can be deceiving,” Tina retorted.

Ding.

We piled into the lift which usefully had a button marked for the restaurant, which when we got there appeared to be situated below the reception level. It wasn't hard to find where we had been hidden, I could hear Josh's voice across the room, Mum too – she doesn't realise she's doing it but give her an audience and she goes into teacher mode. Compared to the senior squad, carrying two weeks of Iberian tan, us juniors look decidedly pasty – note to self, remember to put on sunscreen tommorow.

A dozen riders plus support staff can get a bit lively so it was just as well we were eating fairly early, before most of the other guests were about. We were on three tables which, this evening at least, were split by team with 'management' on the third, maybe we'll mix more as the week goes by like in Austria. Josh was holding forth on what seemed to be a Ryanair versus Air Berlin debate with Daz.

"Can anyone join in?” I enquired.
"Gab, how yous doing hen?”
"Same old, where're the girls?”
"Probably still complaining about the taxi driver,” he suggested as de Vreen and I sat ourselves down.
"So what're you two complaining about?” Mand asked.
"I was just telling Josh about my flight out,” Daz explained.
"You're not still going on about that.” I groaned.
"Well it was annoying.”
"Whatever, so any word on food?”
"Looks like there's a salad bar,” de Vreen observed as Gret and Tal arrived bearing plates of the aforesaid commestible.
"Hi guys, got here okay then,” Tal queried as she sat herself and her plate at the table.
"Yeah but more importantly, where'd you get that?”
"Big buffet thing just inside the door,” Gret advised, "Nice dress Gab.”
"Thanks, how come we didn't see that Mand?”
"You were talking with Erika,” she pointed out.

"People!” Dad's raised voice got everyones attention, "George has been delayed, we'll go through the week's logistics after we've eaten. A couple of you have already found the salad bar,” he observed looking at our table, "Thats fine, we've got a fixed menu which will be served at table, you all know the score by now so, go eat.”

"Fixed menu, you know what that means,” Tal moaned.
"It means,” Dad interrupted from behind me, "That Pet and Kat have been working for weeks on a menu to keep you fuelled without most of the rubbish that some of you like.”
"Rabbit food,” I sighed.
"Hardly,” Pater went on, "I think you'll be surprised.”

It was only then that I noticed the lads and Manda were now absent.

"Sugar!”
 
By the time I got to the salad dispensory, I was at the back of the queue, somehow even Dad had beaten me to it! I say queue, it was a big double sided affair so once you had some crockery it was straight to loading it, pretty much everything was duplicated. I was soon loading up with tasty tidbits, the usual green stuff of course but there were sweet peppers, Ananas1 and other more exotic stuff too.

Not that I got much chance to start eating, i'd no sooner sat back down than our main course arrived in several turreens per table.

"Interesting,” Gret suggested.
Josh was straight in lifting lids, announcing contents as he went, "Rice, chicken, veggies and some sort of sauce stuff.”
"Well lets have at it then,” Mand chivvied.

The chicken was broiled, the veg steamed and the mushroom sauce perhaps a bit thin but i've had worse. It was a bit bland but some careful seasoning, okay a good dose of S&P and the help of my salad selection, just about made it passable. And of course there was only just enough to go around, one chicken breast each and clearly a single serving spoon of veg and rice per diner – we certainly won't be getting fat.

It was a bit of a surprise then when a dessert arrived, plain vanilla cheesecake but in good sized portions, no doubt there is method to the menu but I can't see it.
 

George stood and tapped his water glass to get our attention.

"Ladies, and gentlemen, you all know why we are here, but just to re-iterate, this is not a holiday trip, you are here to work, to hone skills, improve fitness so that we start the domestic programme at the top of our game. Yes I know the seniors have already got some race miles in, that has allowed me to see where we need work, its a bit different with the Jungere squad but the aim is the same.

So that means the programme is the same for everyone, apart from Thursday, mornings will be a group ride, after lunch there will be more specific training sets for each of you. Breakfast is at seven, we'll be on the road at eight to hopefully beat the mid day heat. Tomorrow will be slightly different, we'll be doing a team presentation down at the harbour.

There are a lot of press here this week, we aren't the only ones doing a team launch, don't be surprised to find yourselves crossing with mens World Tour teams as well as lower echelon and amateur riders all here for the same reasons. Other than Thursday when Gaby and Tina do the Mount Teide, we aren't here to race, the local authorities will be watching closely, in the past informal racing has been problematic.

Dave? You have everything sorted for your people?”

"Yes George, youth riders, room four oh one once we are done here and we'll get you some riding togs sorted out.”
"Any questions?” the Boss enquired.

I stuck my arm up.

"Gaby?”
"Is there a dress code this week, you know for dinner and stuff?”
"Good question,” George nodded sagely, "I don't think we need to be so formal for eating here, you will need your Kleid tomorrow though for the presentation. If there is a change to that I'll let you know in good time but otherwise smart is the watchword eh? Anyone else?”

Silence was the loud reply.

"Okay then, Jungere go see Dave and Kat and I'll see you all in the morning.”

 
"Very er, white,” Tal suggested when I shook out my Weltmeisterin strip.

I'm not sure what I was expecting and I'm not sure exactly what I think of it yet, of course the top half is almost generic, rainbow bands, sponsors names all on a white background. What I hadn't been expecting was the white shorts, trimmed with black, red and yellow as a nod to my German champion status.

The standard strip was new too, essentially a sky blue version of my stuff, minus the bands of course – not a black short in the house!

"What about training gear like?” Josh asked after a shake of his head, "Is that all blue too?”
"Don't worry Josh,” Dad chuckled, "You won't have to wear blue tights around Ponteland.”
"It wasn't that I was worried aboot that like, the roads are covered in shite, black doesn't show as much.”
"Ooo, hark at the domestic god,” Mand teased.
"Ah was only saying.”
"White's even worse,” I added.
"Which is why your training kit has black bottoms,” Dad stated, "Sintani are couriering that out to each of you next week direct from the factory. Everyones lids fit?“

The new Met helmets matched our strip, so mine is white with rainbow bands over the crown, the others team blue, same for riding mitts, if anyone was ever in any doubt as to who is number one this lot will set them right.

"Okay then,“ Dad went on as everyone seemed okay helmet wise, "Tomorrow, we'll be back here for lunch, shower, clean kit then everyone will ride down to the harbour. We'll take your team uniforms down, after the initial presentation you get changed for the press session, okay?”
"Seems like a lot of mucking about,” I mumbled.
"Its all about image Gab, we present ourselves in a professional manner, we look good, the sponsors look good, we at least appear to be on the top of the game, everyone's happy.”
"I guess.”
"Good, bikes, they're all built and set up, we'll sort out any kinks along the road. We've fitted you up with hrm computers, we're hopefully going to gather some data to help monitor your fitness and so on, the seniors had this last year and found it useful so we're rolling it out to you this season, questions?”
"Are there team bikinis?” Gret smirked.
"I'm sure that could be arranged Fraulein Luchow, right then, early night, long day tomorrow, I'll see you in the morning.”
 

We filed out of four oh one, which for this week has become the working area for rider interface stuff, massage, food prep, spare kit and so on.

"What're we doing now?” Tal queried.
"What time is it?” Mand asked.
"Ten to eleven like,” Josh supplied.
"Thats like nearly midnight in real time,” I stated.
"This is real time,” Mand advised.
"You know what I mean.
"What is she on about,” Gret wondered.
"Someone forgot to change her watch earlier,” Mand told the assembled masses.
"Why'd she need to do that?” Daz enquired.
"Different time zone?”
"Didn't change mine,” he pointed out.
"Its the same here as the UK,” Mand explained, "Which is different to Germany.”
"Ah, I see,” Daz allowed.
"Well anyway,” Mand went on, "I'm going to bed we can catch up tomorrow.”
"Aye,” Josh agreed, "Early start and all that.”

And so we went to our respective rooms, not that I think anyone will be going to sleep in the near future!
 

Not sure what but something activated my consciousness, maybe the light, maybe the movement in the room, no it was definitely Mand cursing after stubbing her toe!

"Time is it?”
"Just turned six.”
"Six? What the heck are you doing at six o flippin' o'clock in the morning?”
"Getting up?”
"What for, breakfast is hours away.”
"Fifty minutes to be precise,” Mand told me, "Seeing as you're awake I can put the ruddy light on.”
"Noooo!”

But there was no stopping her and despite closing my eyes there really wasn't any escape from the inevitable. First the light then the too thin curtains were yanked back.

"Oh. my. God.”
"What now?”

When I heard the balcony door open I cracked an eye again.

"You need to see this Gab.”
"I saw it yesterday.”
"Not this you didn't.”

So okay, she'd piqued my curiosity now. I slipped out of the bed and still only half looking went to join her on the balcony.

"What?”
"If you opened your eyes you'd see,” she suggested, "Now this I could wake up to.”
I can follow instructions, I opened the peepers and, "Phooee!”

Yes, last night I looked out over the town from our high vantage point, the low Sun light washing the colour from the view. But this morning with the sun already well up but behind us, well the view was spectacular – okay, if you looked a bit closer there were building sites and there was already the sound of traffic even at this hour but the long view, out into the perfect azure of the Atlantic, i'd pay.
 

"You see the view this morning?” I enthused to Ron, having caught up with her in the lift.
"What, of the autobahn and petrol station?”
"Don't be daft, out to sea.”
"You can't see the sea from our room.”
"Oh right, you'll have to come and see, its spectaclier.”
"All I want to see is a coffee machine.”

Well I can't argue with that sentiment.

Mindful of Dad's admonishment to be ready, front and center on time, I didn't dally over breakfast, tempting as it was. No, today I really need to lose the 'five minute girl' tag and actually be on time so I made short work of fruit salad, scrambled egg, a couple of rounds of toast and a Pain au Chocolate, restricting myself to just two cups of coffee – self control eh? Then it was back up to the room, grab my team dress, suitable shoes and the riding gear and back to the ground floor.

"Wonders will never cease,” Mum stated when she and Anja arrived in reception, "Make a note An, you may never see this again.”
"Mu-um!”
"Its alright Gaby, mothers can be so mean,” Anja observed, "You are looking very, er championy.”
"I'm not sure about the white shorts,” I allowed plucking at a leg.
"You seemed to like them at that photo shoot last year,” Mum pointed out.

That photo shoot, yeah well we won't go there today or maybe ever.

The rest of Apollinaris drifted in over the next few minutes, Kat collected dresses and stuff for later, Pet arrived with boxes of ride food, the locusts descended to fill pockets with dried fruit, energy gels and so on. Dad poked his head in from outside which was enough to encourage everyone out to the bikes. Of course, the seniors have been using theirs for a fortnight already but the junior squad had as yet, not seen theirs – okay, I have seen my frame but not the complete bike.
 

"Juniors,” Mike called out, "Over here please.”

And there they were, six brand new, sparkly Pinarello race bikes all in a row, five in sky blue and one, mine, in white flam with a rainbow striped overlay.

Once we were all gathered he addressed us more directly, "Okay guys, names on frames, you'll need to put on the heart rate bands hanging on the bars, we've paired them to your computer units already so they should be ready to go. The heads have auto start stop but you will need to switch them on, its the top left button. If you want to scroll the screen its the two buttons on the bottom, one up, one down. Any questions?”
"Where's the coffee maker?” Tal asked with a grin.
"Get on with you, times wasting, try not to break anything.”

"Woulda been easier doing this before we got dressed,” Gret observed as she threaded her band under her bib straps.
"Well I guess its just this once right?” Daz suggested.

Oh yeah, forgot to mention, by mutual consent we're using English rather than German, we already do it in the races so its not that big a stretch to use it now which avoids having to run a simultaneous translation for the less gifted linguists!

"Okay everyone,” George called out to his milling minions, "Time to roll, Jenny, you're in charge.”
"Okay Boss man,” Mum acknowledged, "Right, lets go, two lines steady.”

Of course, the first thing to do was get off the hotel's rocky precipice, a manouevre which caused a few nervous moments for the junior contingent as we adapted to the fresh brakes and new bikes, heck, we didn't even get a go around the car park first. We made it down through the hairpins, Mum leading the way out onto the main road heading south. It was just on the fresh side of comfortable but i've no doubt it'll soon be warmer, afterall, there's hardly a cloud in the bright blue sky.

We were soon beetling along at, according to the fancy computer on my bars, at a steady thirty kph, which, in a group situation, felt very relaxed. Oh I'm sure that we'll be notching things up at some point but not yet, not until we've got warmed up. There are various options for two line rotations, Mum had us in a rotating loop so every change you are alongside a different rider – not great for long conversations but we're not here to talk.

I was grinning like a Loon, here I am, on Lanzarote in all my Weltmeisterin splendour on my sparkly new bike kitted out with top notch pro components, does it get any better than this.

"You look like the cat got the pigeon Hen,” Josh told me as I slipped alongside on my way forward.
"New bike, sunshine.”
"Aye, better than damp Tyneside like, thats for sure,” he agreed.
"So, what do you reckon?” I asked pointing down at my steed.
"Its certainly eyecatching.”
"You think?” I grinned.
"Might be useful in the pack,” he opined, “distract the opposition with all the bling as if you aren't distracting enough.”
"Change,” Mum hollored.

It was only as I came alongside Tina that his last words connected with my grey matter, 'as if you aren't distracting enough,' what's that supposed to mean?

 
Maddy Bell © 02.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
If you've not been, Tenerife is dominated by Mount Teide, the dormant volcano that occupies much of the central region which means most of the roads occupy a strip about five K wide around the islands coast. Thats true of the towns too, which sort of stands to reason, their names just so many letters on the road signs as we made our way west along the north coast on the wide tarmac of TF-42.

From time to time the peak of Teide came into view, the waters of the Atlantic doing a similar game of peek a boo to our right. I guess we'd been tootling along for about twenty kilometres when Mum indicated we should take the next turn towards Le Caleta which turned out to be one of the smaller resorts without all the huge holiday apartment blocks. A short twizzle through the town and we were on the coast, I mean really on the coast, often just metres away from the low cliffs and the water beyond.

Along through what was clearly a modern 'resort' then the tarmac turned inland towards a small, solitary hill that looked a bit like our Eifel volcanos or even that lump near Nanna's in Somerset, something Knoll. Anyhow, we hooked around the north side and were soon in Buenavista, essentially the end of the line without some serious looking climbing.

Instead we did a sort of loop through the orange groves that had us heading eastwards back towards Puerto de la Cruz. So far our ride, whilst pleasant had been a bit boring from the riding aspect, no real climbing and mostly on wide tarmac.

"Rechts!” Mum called out.

The sign suggested El Tanque was a few kilometres away, a few kilometres up hill by the looks. There were a few mumblings in the ranks as we started on the first shallow incline, you know the sort of thing, maybe five percent, steep enough to know you're climbing but shallow enough to maintain a good pace still. Up into and through a small town then out into increasingly terraced fields.

"Knew it was too good to be true,” Ron complained as we hit the first sweeping hairpin.
"Yeah,” I agreed, "Does it go right over the top?”
"Looks like it.”
"Break rotation!” Mum suggested.

The road continued at a steady gradient without real turns, the more formal fields giving way to swathes of orchard which hid what was above although to our left the views of the Atlantic were clearly becoming more aerial. Ron and me were at the back of the bus and were only alerted to the first real hairpin by those in front changing gear. Once through the turn the rate of ascent dropped back again, this time we were on the outer edge with concrete blocks the only protection from the precipice.

By now our pace had fallen away some, to be honest I was itching to give it some welly. There was a toot from George following behind us and Mum dropped back for a chat with the Boss.

"Free run to the top,” Mum announced when she came back up, "You okay kiddo?”
"Yeah fine.”
"Hows the bike?”
"Well pukka!” I enthused.
"So what are you waiting for?”

Of course, my short discourse with Mum had distracted me from what was going on ahead of us, an upping of pace and already a bit of elastic stretching. Bum, did she mean to put me off? I set off like a blue arsed whatsis name, quickly bridging up to Gret, Tali and Erika however those in front were having a concerted dig.

Well two can play at that game, I dropped a sprocket, jeez these gears are sweet, and took a pull on my bidon as I mentally prepared for a big effort. Not that I know how big an effort, being tight in to the hillside, there was no real view to give a clue as to what lies ahead. Mum's 'diversion' had cost me about twenty metres and the concerted effort ahead left me with the thick end of another seventy to get back in touch.

Here goes nothing, I stood on the pedals to get the revs up a bit then settled into time trial mode to close the deficit. With the road swaying about a bit it was hard to judge but I closed fairly quickly on the back markers, good they're all still together, time to hit Gaby Boost! A slightly more pronounced bit of right hand bend briefly revealled more road, perfect.

A quick check under my arm for traffic, then out of the saddle, briefly crossing the white line as I passed the peloton then staying wide to take the third hairpin. A fourth came quickly after, then a steeper ramp to a fifth turn before a longer run to turn six, seven and eight following in short order. It was only after the last that I dropped back another gear and allowed myself a bit of respite.

There were glimpses of buildings still high above me, how much further to the top? I took a look behind, a lone figure was giving chase but of the rest, no sign. Okay then, another hit on the waterbottle and a quick squirt into my face, after taking my shades off of course – dur, and I settled back into a steady climbing pace. The grade was a bit steeper now then bend nine was another wide job, a name board stated El Tanque and in short order I was at the summit – strike one for Bond!

It wasn't much to look at, some roadside parking which I rode to the end of before pulling to a halt. I don't suppose it was more than a minute before a brake squeal suggested my pursuer had arrived.

"Flippin' heck girl,” gasp, "What did you have for breakfast?” Tina got out as she slumped over her bars.
"Just the usual Plutonium,” I replied with a grin.

By the time the others joined us we'd both regained our composure and I was munching on an energy bar.

"So?” Anja queried.
"Okay, you were right,” Tina replied, "She was waiting for me.”
"Told you,” Ron piped up.

The tail enders rolled up nearly ten minutes after my arrival and by their pained expressions, Mum had been riding them hard, George pulled alongside which allowed Petra to jump out with some fresh bottles.

"I'm guessing the Weltmeisterin was first to the top?”
"Even with a hundred metre handicap she had at least two hundred at the end,” Tina told him.
"Sehr gut, I think we will do well on Dienstag.”
"This was no Teide George,” Mum opined.
"True but the grade is similar I think for most of Teide. We can talk about this later for now we should get back for the presentation, steady eh?”
"Steady Boss,” we all chorused back.

We dropped down a short way to the TF-82, a main-ish road that we could resume our rotation on. It wasn't flat, think undulating, for about five kilometres then a fairly easy climb took us back over the crest and into another hairpin series that returned us to the main coast road. There was more traffic about now but it was only ten K back to our base and yes, that climb up to the hotel became an eyeballs out apocalyptic battlefield, it might be only four hundred metres but after a morning in the saddle its not what the legs want.

 
The 'lunch, shower, clean kit' didn't run in quite that order but near enough, the hour and a half was barely long enough for us riders – or indeed for Mike and Dad to give our steeds a quick wipe down to remove the road grime from our little ride. Kat and Petra were already down at the harbour, George had gone down whilst we were eating.

"Everyone ready?” Dad enquired as we all milled about in the bit of shade outside of reception.
"Looks like it Dave,” Mum suggested over the various conversations.
"Time to rock an' roll then, just follow the bus down, nice and steady.”

Mike appeared in the suspiciously clean team minibus, by the time Dad had the door shut, Team Apollinaris was all mounted and ready to follow. Its not far down into the 'old town', maybe three kilometres as the crow flies but the more sinuous route we followed bumped it to almost five, pretty much all with a downward tilt. The ride through the centre was a bit tiresome but we eventually reached the Plaza de Europe where we left the road and headed to where there was some sort of open sided marquee cum stage affair liberally strewn with Apollinaris banners as well as some of the other team backers.

I'm pretty sure that we weren't tardy but clearly things were already under way, I could see George up on the stage with another chap, some sort of promotional film playing on the screen behind them.

Petra hurried over to where we'd stopped.

"We're running a bit late, some problem with the PA,” she advised, "When Kat signals ride up the ramp and line up on the stage, seniors first then Jungere, Gaby, you come on last please.”
"Do we get off our bikes?” Tina queried.
"Neh, just stand astride, The MC will introduce each of you, maybe a question or two then you ride off the other side. We've got a room in the Museum for you to change in then its back to the stage for the press.”

Well it sounds simple enough.

 
Petra organised us into the order we were to arrive on stage, just in the nick o' time, Kat gave a very unladylike whistle to get our attention and it was show on. We've all got lots of riding experience, on the road we can flick our machines about, steer through silly gaps in traffic, keep in a straight line with barely a thought. However, a fairly steep ramp a metre wide at slow speed was more of a challenge.

In her enthusiasm, Anja nearly rode off the edge and at her turn, Mand almost stalled, but we were soon fanned across the stage, all new gear, shiny bikes and fixed smiles. I was a bit surprised that the short interviews were being done in English but I guess with a press corp from across Europe, it makes more sense than using German. Each interview was pretty much the same, riders name, the highlights of their palmares, a bit of banter – the MC was working from a script, then onto the next.

To be fair, it was much like some of the bigger races, well apart from the stage, but Daz was clearly quite nervous, not having had the same exposure as the rest of us. Josh was next to me, at over a metre eighty he was actually taller than even George.

"And last but far from least,” the MC schmaltzed, "We have Gabrielle Bond, the current under eighteen Weltmeisterin for both time trial and road race,” there was a bit of light applause before he went on, "So, like mother like daughter Gabrielle.”
"Well she only had one title at a time but I hope so.”
"And you took the same titles in the National events?”
"Luck was on my side, but being Weltmeisterin I won't get the chance to wear the champions jersey.”
"And your bicycle, it is different to your team mates?”
"Mostly just paint, the sponsors wanted to honour my titles, who am I to argue,” I grinned back.
"Thank you Gabrielle, so we'll have a short break, maybe sample some of the famous Apollinaris waters that we have for you and the riders will return for interviews and photographs, for now, I give you, Team Apollinaris!”

Some upbeat music came up and we started the slightly easier task of rolling down the ramp and out of the marquee.

 
By the time I joined the melee the seniors were already heading towards the Museum of Contemporary Art a short way across the plaza.

"Glad thats over,” Daz supplied as he peeled off his mitts.
"Ahm betting the next round will be more personal man, there was that guy from the Comic oot there,” Josh told him.
"No longer just famous in your own bath water Daz,” Mand teased.
"He'll be here for Gab, not me,” Daz blustered.
"Leave him alone,” Tali interjected, "Don't worry Darren, we'll big you up.”
"Are you lot going to change?” Dad hinted, "You've only got fifteen.”
"Shitza,” I mumbled. Well I guess its doable, just.

By the furniture I would say that our makeshift changing room was more usually used for meetings and that sort of thing but they'd found a clothes rail from somewhere to hang our dresses, a couple of tables held the rest of our stuff. There was even an attempt at changing rooms using some of those movable wall things but we are cyclists, any pretension to being body shy was long ago rooted out!

There was however a bit of a queue to use the adjoining bathroom, we might not have ridden far but its a warm afternoon, you do not want to be 'glowing' into the dresses too much!

"Don't be too long,” Mum instructed before following her teammies back outside.
"We won't,” i called back although whether she heard or not I couldn't say.
"You putting your hair up Gab?” Mand asked.
I dangled my scrunchie at her, "Only in a pony.”
"We should all do the same,” Gret suggested.
"That'll save five minutes,” Tal chuckled.
"Well I'm ready then,” I told them having done the deed while they were talking.
"You might want some massy,” my self appointed style guru opined.

Look, when you are blonde, I mean really blonde not out of a bottle, that includes your lashes, a bit of mascara takes away a bit of the washed out look.

"Bum, I knew there was something else, anyone got some?”
"Here,” Gret passed me a tube.
"Cheers.”

I hardly bothered using the mirror, well i've done it so often its like second nature, now eyeliner, that really is an art.

 
The atmosphere back at the marquee suggested something a bit stronger than Apollinaris Wasser was on offer, I spotted a table of beverages and headed that direction. However I was cut off from grabbing a glass of white by a chap I vaguely recognised.

"Something stronger than the sponsors product?”
"Is it?” I bluffed, "I was after lemonade.”

The girl er, girling the drinks must've heard the L word and I was soon holding a glass of fizz.

"Mike Jones, Cycling Weekly,” he introduced himself.

Of course, its not like there are that many journos on the circuit.

"Gaby Bond,” I replied on auto pilot.
"Well at least I got that right,” he smiled, "Can I trouble you for a few words?”
"Er sure,” I agreed.

The set up for the rest of the afternoon was quite informal, one on one interviews for the most part which meant that with a couple of dozen press / media types in attendance, even the lesser known squad members got their fifteen. Later on there would be a more formal session when George would spill the beans on the team and rider targets for the upcoming season. Payback for us lot is dinner in the old town and being left alone for the rest of the week.

Mike found a table and busied himself with his tape machine while I sipped my drink.

"I don't know if you remember but I did a piece on your mum after she won the road title.”
"We went out to Beckingham cafe?”
"Thats right, she ripped my legs off.”
"Mine too,” I admitted.
"I'm thinking you're the one doing the leg removal now?”
"On a good day, she can still hand it out.”
"So how do you feel about the change in British Cycling's focus away from road towards the boards?”
"I don't do politics.”
"Sorry, that was a bit red top, but it must have affected you?”
"Not as much as some of the others on the junior squad, I know Mark and some of the others were quite enthusiastic but it feels like they squandered some serious potential road medals.”
"So you chose to change your allegiance?”
"It wasn't an overnight thing, the rumours out of Manchester had been floating for a bit and the BDR had made approaches already.”
"BDR?”
"Bund Deutscher Radfahrer, the German federation.”
"So they approached you?”
"Well Dad really, I guess they were covering the bases, I live and study in Germany, do most of my racing there so it kinda made sense.”
"And the BC edict was the nail?”
"Pretty much, Dad and George had gone the extra mile for BC, arranging races, a joint summer training camp then Dave pulled the plug.”
"But its not stopped the team recruiting UK riders?”
"The gripe is with BC management not the staff or riders.”
"So how do you feel about young Mr Fox joining your ranks?”
"He's older than me,” I spluttered, "Yeah, he's a good lad, we've ridden together in the past for BC and he guested for us a couple of times at the back end of the year.”
"So where to for Gabrielle Bond in 2007? Double world champion, German double champion, what is there left?”
"I'm only just seventeen, last week in fact, so I get to defend my junior titles then I guess there's a chance I could get picked for Beijing so its everything to ride for.”

"What do you think of the rumours surrounding Lance Armstrong?”
"You mean the drug stuff?”
"Uh huh,” he agreed.
"I want to believe its hogswash, when I met him he seemed a nice guy and i've done enough drug testing to know they don't get fooled easily.”
"So you think he's clean?”

Do I? I know the rents have discussed the subject, there was even a book I think but come on, he couldn't get away with it if he was, that Swiss bloke got caught so they'd catch Lance if he was cheating, right?

"Lets just say i'd be disappointed if he was cheating.”
"There's rumours that you're riding the Mount Teide later in the week?”
"So they tell me.”
"I'll take that as confirmation,” Mr Jones proposed, "What do you reckon to your chances?”
I gave a little shrug, "If I was to ride I reckon i'd have a fair chance, not much of me to haul to the top, i've done okay on long climbs in the past so I reckon its down to staying in contention as much as climbing ability.”
"I'd better make that a wrap Gaby, I can see Hennie from Neuwsblaad itching to have a word, good luck on the mountain, maybe I'll catch you afterwards.”
"Er yeah, thanks Mike.”

The man from the Comic collected his stuff and cleared the way for his Dutch colleague, geez, heavy stuff or what, I hope I don't get too much of that stuff.

"Gaby, good to see you, may I?”
"Hennie, sure, how're you doing?”

Of course I know Hennie Kuiper, we've talked a few times, being an ex top league pro he's more on the ball than Mr Jones and his ilk.

"So, quite the shindig eh?"

 
Maddy Bell © 05.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
It was knocking on six o'clock by the time the journo's had their fill of Team Apollinaris and George called a wrap. They might have finished interviewing but some of these media types don't know when to depart, bending anyones ear to talk bikes, maybe get those few words that no one else has. Anyhow, it was with a palpable and communal sigh of relief that we all gathered around the mini stage, exhausted from all the talk.

I think everyone, including Dad and George had a dip in the pot, I certainly saw Mike Jones with the 'English' squad members, others like Hennie were more cosmopolitan in their interviewees. Of course, for me at least, the questions were pretty similar to the rest, my Worlds success, ambitions for the coming season, following in Mum's footsteps, yada, yada, yada. Our duties to team and sponsors over I think we were all ready for some down time, I mean, we haven't eaten since lunch five hours ago!

"Okay ladies,” George addressed us.
"Hut hum?” Josh supplied.
"And of course our jungere herren,” George added, "Thank you for your efforts today, I think we made an impression on the press, we just need to translate that to the road eh? So, we have a bit of tidying up to do here still so I'll ask Kat, where is she?”
"Here Boss,” she waved an arm.

Of course everyone turned to look her way where she was struggling to zip up a very nice frock.

"What?”
"Well when she has finished dressing,” George grinned, "Kat will take you to the restaurant, the rest of us will join you there shortly.”

By now Gret had assisted with the recalcitrant zipper and Kat Pinger had regained her poise.
 

"So, whats with the dress and heels?” I asked joining my friend as she led us from the plaza.
"Whats wrong with it?”
"Nothing, its just not very, well Kat, you're usually in shorts and t shirts.”
"Thats practical, this is not being shown up by you lot.”
"Come on Pinger, we look like a flock of cabin crew for some cheap airline,” well we do.
"Very tan and fit crew.”
"If you say so.”
"I do, so for once I'm glamming up.”
"What about Pet?”
"What about her?”
"Dur, I'm supposed to be the dumb blonde, is she dressing up too?”
"Blonde you may be Gaby Bond, dumb you are not. Of course she is.”
"Talking of which, where is she?”
"Gone on ahead, we'll meet her there.”
 
Our crocodile of sky blue and cream made its way through the streets of tourist tat, burger bars and more mundane stores to the old town proper, only a couple of hundred metres I suppose, fetching up at the Rancho Grande, a slightly more upmarket establishment with views of the sea from its balcony. Of course, we attracted some attention, some calls of recognition, there are lots of bikies on the island, some less welcome from inebriated 'holiday makers', and not exclusively from the male examples. There are sometimes reports on the telly about these 'lager louts', a particularly British phenomena but this is the first time i've seen it first hand although Daz's flight experience should have alerted me.

"Nice,” Mand mentioned.
"Lets hope the food is up to scratch,” I added.

Most of the tables were already occupied but a figure was waving to us, well I guess it was to us, there not being anyone else just arrived.

"Over here guys.”

Petra? Now don't get me wrong, I have seen Pet dressed up before but like Kat, at races and stuff you rarely see her in anything but shorts and shirt, well in my experience that is. The figure encouraging us to a group of vacant tables was not that person, for starters her hair was up not in a pony and she was wearing makeup. But the more striking element was the rather chic trouser suit thing she was wearing, it probably wouldn't work on a short arse like me but on Pet's rangy frame it looked great.

"Any of these tables,” she gestured about her, "There's Sangria on the way.”

Oo, Sangria, me likey.

"Alcohol free,” she finished.

Dang! Still, it's better than water.

I guess when you spend sometimes weeks travelling, sleeping, eating and racing together, its almost inevitable that you become a close knit clique, we don't get that the same on the junior team. The trip to Austria before Christmas did however give us an in to the inner circle and I think the girls enjoyed having some different faces at the table. The lads, Daz and Josh, were a different matter, Josh preferring to be with Tali and Daz tagging along, safety in numbers I guess.

"Come on Wunderkind, make your mind up,” Erika chivvied from behind me.
"Er.”

I randomly pulled out a chair and sat myself down, other bodies following suit around me.

"No one here?” Kat enquired.
"Be our guest,” Erika told her.
"Nice dress Kat,” Anja opined, "You're usually in shorts.”
She shrugged as she got herself seated, "I do wear other stuff you know.”
"Just saying,” Anja offered in conciliation.
"So where's this Sangria?” Erika queried.
 

You don't really want to know every detail of the meal, or our conversations. Well okay, we started with a mixed Tapas followed by a Paella heavy on the seafood, Churrios, those long doughnut things, with ice cream rounded out the meal. There was plenty of it and the Sangria was free flowing and even in alcohol free form it hit the spot on a warm evening in good company.

George called a halt to things about nine thirty, an hour later I was sat on the balcony sipping a mediocre coffee Mand had procurred from somewhere.

"This is the life eh?”
"Not many,” I agreed, "Guess we have to start working for it tomorrow.”
"I guess, I don't like the sound of this Chamorga place.”
"How bad can it be?”
"Knowing George and your dad, very.”

Well there wasn't really any argument to that however tame they tried to make it sound, sixty-ish kilometres to this Chamorga place for lunch then back for another seventy K. I'm sure there's something they aren't telling us, guess we'll find out tomorrow. We both sat in silence, well apart from the distant sounds from the town below, the distant lights of La Palma twinkling across the black waters of the Atlantic.
 

I stil felt half asleep when I wheeled my bike out into the morning sunshine, scrap that, early morning sunshine, despite three cups of coffee, a bowl of fruit and joghurt, two cheese and meat sandwiches and an almond croissant.

"Yaah – uh!”
"Give over Gab,” Gret complained, "You'll have us all at it.”
"Soz,” I allowed, "Why do we have to start so early?”
"To avoid the heat dumbo,” de Vreen advised – again.

Of course, 'avoid' is relative, it was well warm on yesterdays ride and we were back for lunch.

"Okay. Lets go,” Mum instructed from the front of the collection of bikes and riders.

Whether intentional in choice or mere happenstance, one advantage in the hotels location is that we don't start off by negotiating the town streets, down the hill and we are on the main coastal route. We tracked the motorway we came in on for about a kilometre then picked up the TF-217 which we followed through the rolling farmland north to Alucansa where we changed to the twelve twentyfour and then the sixteen through increasingly rural countryside to Tejina.

The pace was steady piano, comfortable but the conversation dropped off on the up grades. At Tejina, once we cleared the town centre, we climbed up onto the TF-13, a new bypass that swept us eastwards above a deep canyon before hurrying us through more urban landscapes to the junction signed for the TF-12 to Mercedes. Of course, its Sod's Law that after having lost all momentum to negotiate the roundabout turn the road started a steady upward tilt.

"This is it,” Tina told us.
"It what?” Mand queried.
"Start of the climb.”
"Great,” Daz sighed.

From what Dad told us earlier its about twenty K to this Chamorga place but it could be like ninety minutes ride, twice as long as we'd normally expect to take. Yep, you don't need to be a rocket scientist to work out that one!

George drove up alongside us, "Tina, Gaby, drop behind please, Jenny, all yours.”
"What now,” I mumbled as I eased off and let those behind overtake.

It was a matter of moments before it was just me, Tina and the team car, Dad in the bus with Mike and Petra having passed already.

"Okay ladies,” George started, "The hard work begins. The others will try to beat you two to the top, I want the both of you to get there before them. It matters not which of you is first, decide your own tactics, there will likely be other riders on the road, make use of them.”
"Whatever you say Boss man,” Tina allowed with a sigh.
"Gaby?”
"On it,” I agreed.

George dropped behind and I looked up the road, the rest of Apollinaris were a good way ahead by now, at least a couple of minutes by my estimation.
 

"So, what now?”
"I was going to ask you the same,” Tina admitted.
"We could just do a two up to catch them then sit in to the top?”
"Then get jumped by your mother or even Amanda, I think we need a different approach.”
"Maybe you're right,” I conceded, "But what?”

We were rolling along at about twenty five, a slight tail wind giving a little push up through the town.

"Keep it steady, maybe catch up some other Radfahrer, let them think we are far behind then catch them unaware.”

Well its not brilliant but it has merit.

An idea suddenly hit me, "You don't think George has seeded the climb with other riders somehow?”
"I can't see how.”

You might not, Tina Porsche, but I can and George can be very devious, why did he even mention the possibility otherwise?
 

At the top of the town things got serious quite quickly, a set of switchbacks raising the road quite abruptly through a woodland that both hid our quarry from view and sheltered us from the quite warm sunshine. We rode at a steady tempo for what seemed like forever but my computer reckoned was about two kilometres, the trees hiding any vistas for all but very short stretches. They also, with the aid of a twisting road, kept the rest of Apollinaris out of sight until a longer straight stretch after we passed some visitor centre place – they were still well up the road and apparently all together.

The gradient was fairly constant at about six percent, the odd short ramp getting us out of the saddle as we shared the pace. The road hugged the hillside now, tracking the contours before the valley opened out a bit, the road dropping through Las Casas before climbing again through more scrubby trees.

"Riders ahead,” I huffed.
“Got 'em.”

It looked like a small group but were they ours or just some guys out for a ride?

We closed the gap steadily, identifying them as 'ausgruppen' only when the trees thinned to give way to open scrub. It looked like a group of four, riding steadily together, the mix of jerseys suggesting friends rather than some sort of team. The trouble now was that i'd lost track of Mum and the rest, was that them going into those trees?
 

"Sprechen ze Deutsche? English?” I asked when we made contact.
"Deutsche,” one of them replied, "Von Schweiz.”
"Sehr gut,” I allowed, "You mind if we sit in for a bit?”
"Sure,” one of the others volunteered, "Michael.”
"Gaby, my friend is Tina.”

The others volunteered names, Gustaf, Bruno and Giorgio.

"So you guys training?” Tina enquired.
"Just a long weekend with some riding,” Gustaf supplied.
"You with that group that passed?” Giorgio queried.
"In theory,” I told them, "We're trying to catch back up to them.”
"That Bee em vey yours?” Michael indicated George following about fifty metres behind.
"Our coach,” Tina agreed.
"Where are you off to?”
"The plan was Draguillo, the end of the road on the coast,” Gustaf advised, "You?”
"Some place called Chamorga.”
"Ach, we went there last year Giorgi,” Bruno mentioned.
"We could go again,” Michael suggested, "Fancy some company girls?”
"We are supposed to be getting back to our team,” Tina hinted.
"Pretty sure we can help with that eh lads?”

If they are George's stooges they are good actors but maybe they are just out for a ride. Anyhow, six bodies are better than two for a chase especially when they look like quite capable riders. There was a mutual reboot of fluid and we were soon doing a more workman like pace.

For me and Tina it was all win, we could do this speed on our own of course but with six riders sharing the effort we're not using the same energy. I'm pretty sure I saw the others as we headed into the next proper climb but it looked like a smaller group, have they split. Guess we'll find out later.

This climb was more persistent, maybe twelve percent on some parts, not enough to break up the party but enough to have us out of the saddle to keep the pace going. George hooted from behind, when I looked back he had the left hand indicator on, I guess we take the next left then. The turn wasn't that much further on, we crossed into the new road and immediately started climbing above the other tarmac.

It wasn't hugely steep but it angled up fairly straight which allowed us to see the rabbit when the road turned a little. We were definitely closer, according to the sign at the junction its just twelve kilometres to our target, we need to get a move on. The guys were, its fair to say, giving it a good bash, I guess if you live in Switzerland a bit of climbing is second nature.

It wasn't all up, there was a slightly rolling texture to the route but for every metre lost we gained two. I'm sure we looked a strange sight, four strapping chaps and two diminutive women sharing the pace, yeah, its uphill, its how fast the wheel is not shelter from wind that counts. The road started to switch about a bit more and up ahead a bare mountainside loomed above us, I guess we're in for some more serious climbing.

Our little peleton continued to share the effort and I almost missed seeing Gret when we passed her so intent was I on the effort. Gret may have been the first but in the next kilometre and couple of hairpins we passed Tali, Daz, Anita and Anja which left just Mand, Josh, Mum, Roni and Erika ahead. They were in sight but that meant we were too and the road is running out.
 

The road levelled off for a bit, a chance to replenish fluids again before the final assault. I think the guys were enjoying themselves, our little pursuit adding a bit, well a lot, of zest to their ride out. The next pitch was quite brutal by the time we emerged from the trees it wasn't only those ahead in disarray but our Swiss train had finally derrailed, Michael and Bruno still doggedly giving their all, Gustaf and Giorgio having blown. On the other hand, Team Apollinaris were now in pieces, Erika slotted on when we caught her but Manda couldn't stay for more than one rotation before dropping back.

"We'll see you at the Casa,” Michael told us, "Enough for us.”

Its a blow but not the end of the world.

"Thanks guys,” I offered, "Kaffee on me.”

The Swiss slipped backwards leaving three of us versus three ahead.

"So whats the plan?” Erika asked.

On the way up with the Swiss they had described what to expect, at the top of this rocky landscape there's a short tunnel then its about a kilometre to the end of the tarmac. Not a lot of room for error but George only wants us to be first to the top. There's really only one plan that might work.

The village loomed above the tunnel entrance, the three of us dove into the darkness just metres from our quarry. Erika was on full gas, Tina behind her with me bringing up the rear. It was less surprise than exhaustion that facilitated the pass.

"Bugger!” I exclaimed just as I drew alongside Mum.

Its difficult to make a bad or noisy gear change with this top notch kit but my down up quick shift combo made enough noise to throw Mum's concentration.

"What's up?”
"Nothing,” I chirped as we exited the tunnel, see ya!”
"Shit!”

My move had blocked not just Mum but the other two from giving chase to Tina and Erika, just long enough for them to get clear. I stood on my pedals and went after them as Roni and Josh joined Mum in her cursing. Erika made it to the first post tunnel turn before blowing big style by which time I was caught back up, Tina and I immediately going into TT mode.

We kept the pressure on up into the village, it might not be an actual race but I'm sure Mum would give everything to catch back up to us. My effort to recatch Tina and Erika finally called time on my efforts just as we reached the summit of the last ramp, it was Tina who was first to the bus where Mike caught her, Dad doing the same for me moments later. Rather than Mum it was actually Roni who arrived next in a sweaty gasping mess, hmm, have to remember that.

 
Maddy Bell © 08.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"That was sneaky Gabrielle Bond,” Mum stated as we found seats on the Casa Alvaro's terrace a few minutes later.
"What?” I queried using my innocent face.
"You know very well what.”
"Its not breaking any rules.”
"Hmm.”
"It worked though didn't it?”
"And what if it hadn't?”
I shrugged, "Plan B? Michael, Bruno!”

The Swiss were just riding up towards the casa in the company of the Apollinaris tail enders.

"You girls get it?” Michael called over.
"Yup, join us, I owe you coffee.”

There were several thumbs raised as riders dismounted and parked their machines.

"Something I should know?” Mater enquired.
"Not really, they gave us a hand chasing you lot down.”
"Sneaky.”
"George's idea Jen,” Tina mentioned rejoining me after a visit to the ablutions.
"Where'd you find them?”
"A bit below where we turned off the main road, you must've passed them,” Tina opined.
"We didn't pass anyone, and we'd have noticed them,” Mum sort of semi leered.
"Mu-um,” I complained.
"Just saying, they look pretty fit.”

Hmm, so just where did they come from if the others hadn't seen them? It has to be a set up.
 

It was a bit early for lunch of course, someone had instead organised sandwiches and coffee to be forthcoming, nothing was said about our 'guests' who, it has to be said, were quickly exchanging banter with the wider group. Turns out that they were staying in Mercedes, where George had his little pep talk with Tina and me, they'd seen the big group go past and pulled out behind sitting them between us. If George had any involvement he deserves to be working for the security services!

I'm pretty sure Michael and the guys knew who we were, I mean, my rainbow jersey is a bit of a hint and there probably aren't that many young women who could mix things up with them on a fairly equal footing, but they didn't say anything. Even my own team mates and friends can sometimes get a bit 'fangirl' so it was quite nice to be just another bikie. I saw George looking at his watch, I guess coffee time is pretty much over.

"What now then guys?” I posed.
Georgio gave a shrug, "Drop down to the coast for some lunch I think, you?”
"Dunno, Mum?” I called over to the next table, "What're we doing now?”
"Back to the hotel as far as I know.”
"Sunbathing by the sound of things,” I grinned.

By the time everyone had used the facilities, un parked bikes and sorted out their apparel another fifteen minutes had passed.

"Regroup at the junction,” Dad instructed, "And take it steady eh?”

I don't know what he means, anyhow we set off to start the return leg as one group, descending through Chamorga several Kph faster than our ascent, flashing through the tunnel to join the main defile. It was never going to remain like that was it? The road is pretty well maintained and on the first decent bit of open tarmac a pell mell attack on the descent started.

Oh I know its not everyones thing and even some racers aren't that keen on these long downhills but for me at least, its one of the joys of cycling. Pick your line, feel the wind in your face without it being a fight, the adrenalin flowing freely, exhilarating and fun. We were soon in a long string, each rider playing to their individual strengths, straight line speed, cornering technique, getting that bit extra aero.

Of course, where gravity comes in, my size and weight are great for going up but going down I'm at a disadvantage to bigger, heavier riders and indeed it was our new friends who were at the head of the worm. Josh slipped past and I flicked onto his wheel to get a bit of a tow. The Toon isn't so hot at tight cornering at speed, at the first hairpin I slipped through on his inside which gained me a few metres but he was in front again quite quickly.

By the time we reached the flatter middle section there were just eight of us, including the Swiss, in the front group, me, Josh, Mum and Erika. The guys looked pretty relaxed, well I guess to be amongst this selection you'd need to be, Erika gave me a grin but Mum had her race face on. We hadn't seen more than a handful of others on the way up but as we dropped there was a regular line of bikes making the climb.

None of it seemed 'that' steep on the way up but going down, well the grade looked almost vertical in places. I found myself grinning like a Loon as we swept past those making the ascent, my computer flickering around the seventies and I'm sure I saw eighty kmh a moment ago. All too soon things levelled off again and a slight rise into a linear collection of buildings heralded the bottom of the Chamorga road.

"Good luck Thursday Gaby,” Gustaf offered as we eased down to a gentler pace.
"Thanks for the help earlier,” I returned.
"We enjoyed it,” Michael told us, "We're gonna keep going, have fun.”
"And you.”

There was an exchange of farewells, the guys sweeping out onto the TF-12 even as the rest of us coasted to a halt just before the junction.
 

The rest of the ride down to Mercedes was a less frantic affair, no individual drag riding just a steady piano as a single peloton, the road now much busier with not just bikes but other traffic. Once clear of the northern 'mountains' we pretty much retraced our outward route the difference being that we did some training exercises on the way. By the time we'd made that last climb back to the hotel I think we were all fairly tired and ready for lunch.

"Okay folks,” Dad started as we handed off bikes to our support crew, "Lunch will be about thirty minutes out on the restaurant balcony, laundry in the bin on the corridor.”

I'm guessing that was a hint to change before lunch!
 

Of course, i've complained at length about the team dresses and sometimes waxed lyrical about our race togs but i've not mentioned the off bike stuff have I. Of course, we get the usual track suit type stuff but we also get a couple of T's and a sweatshirt that we can wear with our own choice of other stuff. I know it sounds like we are always in some sort of 'uniform' but the sponsors put a lot of dosh into letting us do what we enjoy doing, ie racing bikes and of course they actually pay the seniors quite well to do it.

It can get a bit old I guess but at least Dad is more relaxed than George about wearing stuff, I guess it gives us a team identity and everyone wants to be on a team right?

"You seen my new bikini Mand?”
"I was there when you bought it?”
"Dur, very funny, have you seen it since we got here?”
"Ut uh, don't tell me you've lost it? Why are you looking for it anyway?”
"Thought i'd save time, put it on before lunch.”
Mand did the seeing orb rolling thing before glancing into my case, "What's that under your hair drier?”
"I just looked there,” I started before pulling said swimwear out, "Oh.”
"Didn't look very hard, I take it you will be wearing more than that to eat?”
"Erm.”
"Whilst I'm sure Daz and Josh would appreciate the view, some of us might not?” she hinted.
"I guess.”

Which is how I ended up wearing a pink wrap skirt and one of my team t shirts over my bikini.

Lunch was a buffet of stuff that looked to be far too healthy, no pommes at all, the meat restricted to chicken and fish. It reminded me of the stuff BC fed us in Manchester, I'm sure they mean well but honestly, I prefer my carbs in easy to eat deep fried form. To be fair, some of it was quite tasty and whilst I'm not a big fish eater the smoked sardines were pretty moreish.

"Attention please ladies,” George addressed the still munching herd, I guess Daz and Josh are included in that, "A quick debrief before we talk individual specifics for the rest of the week.”

Does that mean no sunbathing?

 
"Everyone happy?” Dad enquired nearly two hours later.

George seemed pretty happy with the morning session, as he said, it helped identify stuff to work on during the week ahead. Anyhow we then split into our respective squads, the juniors moving to a shady spot down near one of the pools to continue. Of course, we already know each others strengths and weaknesses, yep even I'm not perfect so we discussed how each of us saw ourselves progressing as bike riders.

Happy might not be the correct adjective but we'd already talked out any individual issues, Dad went on.

"Okay then, rest of the afternoon is yours, try not to get sunburnt, Gaby,” hey why did I get singled out? "Darren, if you come up to four one two I'll sort you out those core exercises, dinners at seven, enjoy yourselves.”

At last.

"Gaby, can I have a moment?”
What now? "Yes Dad.”
"We'll see you by reception Hen,” Josh suggested as the rest headed towards the hotel building.
“'kay,” I agreed, "So what's up?”
"I didn't want to say anything in front of the others but this morning, Tina mentioned that you seemed a bit, what did she say now, yes that was it, woolly, at times.”
"Woolly?”
"Maybe not the right word, maybe your mind wasn't entirely on the riding? Is everything okay?”
"Dunno where she got that idea, course it is, why wouldn't it be?”
"You have got a lot of stuff going on, college, BlauHase, Max, the kiosk,” he pointed out.
I gave a little shrug, "You forgot the Tanzklub.”
"Look kiddo, if there's anything you need to talk about, me and your mum are here for you.”
"I know but there's nothing up, honest.”
"Go on then, the others will be waiting and Gaby.”
"Hmm?”
"Put plenty of sun block on, you know how easily you burn.”
"Yes Dad,” I sighed.
 

"Everything okay?” Gret enquired when I joined the others in reception.
"Yeah, fine, so we walking?”
"You are kidding Bond?”
"The chap on reception has ordered us a taxi,” Daz put in.

Where are we off to I hear you ask? Well there's this water park place, Costa Martiánez, down near the old town, we get in for half price with a tourist card which is free from our hotel. The taxi couldn't have been far away as it turned up almost as Darren finished speaking, we filed out and loaded into the people carrier, it looked like a Volkswagen but it claimed to be a SEAT. Yeah, guess who had to sit in the middle?

I'd expected to go much the same way we had on the bikes yesterday but instead he took us out to the Autopista where he floored it for a couple of junctions before turning off. I lost all sense of direction but we ended up driving along the cliffs above the sea before disapearing into a tunnel. When we emerged it was onto a sort of esplanade, beach on one side, hotels and stuff the other, moments later we were outside the water park.

"It closes at six like,” Josh noted as we headed to the entry.
"We have to be back for dinner at seven anyway,” Mand pointed out.
"We've still got a couple of hours, come on,” I chivvied.
 

I think its fair to say that a good time was had by all, we rented a locker to stow extraneous clothing and so on, yup, even Josh lost his shirt to display the early signs of a penguin tan, that bane of cyclists everywhere. And yes, we did use sunscreen, even so, by the time we left I could feel my fair skin tingling a bit. Looks like I'll have a bikini sun tan, a better look than the white 'skin suit'!

It might be a waterpark by name but its really more a collection of swimming and sun bathing opportunities with assorted food and drink outlets. Not that it bothered me, last time I went on a waterslide I lost my top, but I think the lads were a bit non plussed. We ended up at the main pool, the lads going off to swim whilst the fairer sex gently grilled themselves whilst sipping overpriced soft drinks.

When we left we had to walk towards the old town to find a taxi and yes I know we've got dinner when we get back but we got sidetracked into Maccy D's for pommes and milkshakes. The driver on the return to Las Aguilas took us back through the town, it might be shorter but it actually took longer than our mystery motorway trip which meant it was nearly seven when we got back. You can't very well go to dinner in a bikini can you, so it was straight upstairs, splash, change, bit of slap and straight down to the restaurant.

At least it wasn't just me who was late and it was only five minutes.

"Sorry we're late,” I offered as first to Apollinaris corner, “we only just got back.”
"We saw,” Erika told us, "We were betting on how long you would be.”

Figures.

"So what's on the menu tonight, Celery and that humus stuff?”
"Humous,” Kat batted back, "I'm sure that could be arranged.”
"Think I'll pass, so?”
"She's like a Rottweiler when it comes to food,” Gret opined.
"No kidding,” Kat agreed.
"I am here you know.”
"We know,” all three of them chorused, huh, a girl can go off people!

There was a drifting of bodies towards the salad bar, I joined them still none the wiser as to tonights menu.

Well it was better than I had thought it would be, chicken breast with vegetable rice and I think the dressing was like mango or certainly something fruity, quite sweet but not too heavy. Even better, there was chocolate mousse for dessert, now you're not telling me thats super healthy, not that I'm complaining. We finished with coffee that was at least a couple of steps up from that stuff Mand got us last night, that was like bilge water.

"What're we doing now?” Tali asked, we'd sort of congregated out on the terrace, the Jungere team and Kat that is.
"Cards?” Manda suggested.
"Really?” I groaned.
"You got any better ideas then clever clogs?”

What do you do, anything like entertainment is down in the town, either a long walk or a taxi ride away, there's a Burger King® the other side of the motorway but I guess that might not go down well with our nutritionist, theres a shopping mall but of course its Sunday evening, that ain't gonna be open.

"So what do the seniors do?” Daz asked.

Why didn't I think of that?

"If she says strip poker, I'm out,” Gret informed us.
"Spoilsport!” Tali joshed.
"Er, it has been known,” Kat admitted.
"They must do something,” Mand pressed.
"Well Erika usually has her game thing, Jen is usually reading something or other, Tina's into her music, there's a Scrabble® league.”
"Rivetting,” I sighed.
"Twenty one points,” Kat shot back which resulted in a round of groans.
"I'm not playing Scrabble, they must do something else.”
"Not really, I mean by the time we've eaten, everyones had their massage and then they often go straight to bed, maybe watch some TV.”
"We could do that?” Tali mentioned.
"There's a big screen in tha bar,” Josh advised.
"Like they are gonna give us the remote for that,” I scoffed.
"Worth a try,” Gret suggested.
 

"I never wanted to be your weekend lover
I only wanted to be some kind of friend
Baby, I could never steal you from another
It's such a shame our friendship had to end.”

Darren warbled before the rest of us joined in on the chorus,

"Purple rain, purple rain
Purple rain, purple rain
Purple rain, purple rain
I only wanted to see you
Underneath the purple rain.”

There was no kickball on tonight so the bar staff were quite amenable to our commandeering the TV, which, we soon discovered had a sort of karaoke channel. Well it was better than badly dubbed seventies US cop shows or Spanish language domestic drama, I can do a biit of Spanish but that doesn't mean I want to watch their TV. I'm not the greatest fan of karaoke, that time in Japan was pretty cool I guess, with a bunch of friends on a warm evening in sub tropical Tenerife we were having such a good time, having a ball.

This was no solo singing contest, this was full on party powered by carbonated soft drinks! We took it in turns taking the lead, everyone else joining in for the chorus, there was no room for prima donnas here tonight.

"One more,” I begged.
"Last one, Tal stated, what've we got Joshie?”

The big Tynesider hit random and a moment later some familiar sounds came from the speakers.

"Me, me, me!”
"Best let her or we'll not here the last of it,” Mand suggested.

"Flash! Ah-ah
Savior of the universe

Flash! Ah-ah
He'll save every one of us.”

It might not be one that BlauHase cover but its one of my favourite riding songs, I didn't really need the lyric prompter as I bellowed out Freddy's words.

Flash! Ah-ah
He's a miracle

Flash! Ah-ah
King of the impossible

He's for every one of us
Stand for every one of us
He saves with a mighty hand
Every man, every woman
Every child, it's the mighty Flash…
He's for every one of us
Stand for every one of us
He saves with a mighty hand
Every man, every woman
Every child, it's the mighty Flash

Flash! Ah-ah

Flash! Ah-ah
He'll save every one of us.”

 
Maddy Bell © 10.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Up and at 'em Gab,” Mand cheerfully suggested at oh silly o'clock the following morning.
"Urgh.”
"Come on, big day today.”

The cogs started to engage, big day? Oh thats right, George did say something about going up this Mount Teide today, maybe we should've had an earlier night. But hey, it was good, clean fun, I'm pretty sure it was what Lisbet would call a 'team building' experience, so maybe not everyone is a great singer but thats half the fun right?

Of course, Miss wide awake de Vreen was almost ready before i'd even been to the bathroom – I'm not a morning person! I was glad to see, when we got down to breakfast that I wasn't the only one a bit bleary eye'd, a situation improved somewhat by fruit juice and coffee. Well maybe the rest of the stuff contributed too, fresh out of the oven croissants really are hard to beat, with the best will in the world a cool one thats dried out is never gonna come close and put in some Nutella® and – well heaven.

Most of us were at the 'last cup of coffee' stage when George came in and got our attention.

"Today mein frauen und herren, we'll be out all day, lots of climbing. Based on yesterday's ride we'll split you into two groups, grimpeurs and roleurs. So Tina, Roni, Gaby, Erika and Joshua, you'll be with Dave today, rest of you are with me, questions?”
Anja spoke up, "When you say lots of climbing, what are we talking?”
"Dave?” George passed the question along.
Dad stood up, "At a guess about three thousand metres, depends how the time is going, my group may do a bit more.”

Of course there was some mumbling at this news and more than one worried expression, I mean, three thousand metres! Thats like riding up to the ring ten times, we're stuffed.

"Okay then people, fifteen minutes,” George concluded.

 
"I am so not looking forward to this,” Mand mumped as we grabbed our riding gear back in the room.
"Me either.”
"Says the mountain goat.”
"Hey, just because I can go uphill quite quickly doesn't mean I want to do it all day.”
"Whatever, come on, don't want to be late.”

Well we got downstairs on time but I then had a sudden desire to use the ladies, I know, too much information, by the time I emerged, George's group had already set off.

"Okay,” Dad started, "Now we're all here,” he looked pointedly at me, "We can get on, we've got a short run inland to the first climb to get you warmed up then we go over Teide we'll grab coffee at the top, and then down toward the coast for lunch, we'll meet up with the others there. After lunch we'll do the route up that Tina and Gaby will race on Thursday then make our way back.”
"Sounds easy when you put it like that,” I mumbled.
"Something to add Gaby?”
"Er no, walk in the park.”
"Right then, Erika, road captain, we go to Cruz Santa and pick up the three two six okay?”
“'kay,” she agreed.
"Right, lets get to it, steady piano.”

Five can be an awkward number for a group ride, someone is inevitably always riding on their own, however its less of an issue when you are doing a steady rotation, in fact odd numbers make it easier to switch lines. Our support team, well Dad and Petra that is, led the way in the hire bus which, if push came to shove, we could all get in with the bikes – like thats gonna happen. We dropped down to the main road and quickly looped over the motorway to pick up a sign for this Cruz Santa place.

We've been here over two days now and it still seems weird to not need all the thermal gear on to go riding, Josh was wearing a gilet but he's nesh at the best of times. Yeah, I can see the attraction of somewhere like this when its struggling to make zero at home, indeed, given the choice I can see why so many pro riders live around the Med. We tootled along the semi urban roads in a lazy rotation, did a magical mystery tour to bypass the town centre then picked up our road.

Dad led us a little further before pulling over to let us pass, the road already having indications of climbing. Not that it was anything requiring a gear change but rather a steady few percent that rolled over the hillside between the fields which became ever more terraced as the road gained metres.

"Tempo, tempo!” Dad yelled from the bus.

Yeah, whatever. Maybe our pace had got a bit ragged but there was no need to shout. A longer turn from the Toon lifted us back into the high twenties, a pace high enough to stop conversation. There was a bit of cloud hovering about above us, it wasn't much after the next bend, a lazy hairpin affair, that we temporarily lost the sun and entered the swirling mists.

Rather than steep ramps and hairpins, this road was less attritional, a sinuous ribbon of tarmac looping across the hillside, not always going up but overall it was taking us ever higher. The mist persisted for a couple of kilometres, hiding the view out to the ocean and the climb above in equal measure. Then it tilted up more argumentatively, up and through a switchback gaining as much altitude in half a K as in the previous couple.

Gradient and mist evaporated at about the same point as once again we settled back into our rotation, the road now much straighter as we crossed from valley to valley, no longer gaining much extra height even though we could now see the ridge of rock both ahead and to our right. We dropped through yet another gulley but the exit this time had us quickly selecting bigger sprockets as the road continued to climb before taking a long lazy loop down and towards what looked like a crazy climb through the next village. No one said anything as we entered the habitation, another loop of road climbing quite steeply above us.

All wasn't quite as it seemed, our road actually now joined another, the signs, if we'd ever doubted, indicated that Mount Teide was somewhere that required going up. The steepest bit wasn't actually that long but from our almost stop at the junction, well we were a bit spread out by the time it started to ease off. Erika had to call Roni back, the cheeky moo was having a proper dig!

This new road, the TF-21, now followed a similar pattern to the old, angling steadily but not steeply across the hillside but the stretch of farmland on our right was getting ever narrower, replaced by scrubby vegetation and I'm sure I just saw a bus going along the top of it. We tapped along for another couple of minutes and once again the road started to ramp up with more intent, the difference this time was the woodland which provided a bit of shade from the already quite warm sun.

"Phew-ee!” Tina declared as we cleared the top.
"Ah guess we's goin' doon then,” Josh added.

The road was following the spine of the ridge but it was pretty obvious that our route was going to take us down into what I can only describe as desert below. Erika dropped back to the bus as the rest of us raided pockets and bidons, this isn't Teide, that was now dominating the view ahead of us, no, clearly we have more climbing to do.

"So?” Roni asked when Erika came back to us.
"Free ride down here then regroup for the rest of the climb.”
"Nice,” I opined, I do like a fast descent.
"I'll have you Hen,” Josh declared.
"In your dreams big boy.”

Well the gauntlet was thrown, no backing out now.
 

The road was reasonably wide so as it twisted about we could still get good lines without compromising safety, we zipped past a few more sedate souls, Josh on the front, the rest of us line astern. It was only at the first hairpin turn that there was any sign of weakness from anyone, Tina taking to her brakes a bit sooner than I planned, I ended up flipping to her outside, by the fact Roni undertook us both, someone else was in the hunt.
I sprinted back up to my friend who was about two lengths off Josh, like I said yesterday, the big uns have the gravity advantage. Down, down, into another sequence, Josh setting himself up wide for another 'pin, I stayed tight on Roni who was tracking Josh closely. The straight run out meant we could keep a bit more speed, click, bum, no more sprockets!

It seemed to go on forever, enough grade to keep the speed high but not so much that the brakes came in to play much, one, two, five kilometres. That ended with a steeper straight ramp with a near ninety degree turn at the bottom, not knowing the road we all scrubbed a fair bit of speed going in and even then we were white lining. Having lost some pace it was a bit less frenetic on the almost flat that followed but a further downward tilt had Josh out of the saddle to gain some advantage.

Things tilted more steeply, it felt vertical but was probably only ten percent but gravity was pulling at the others more than me, at the next one eighty I'd lost a few bike lengths to them both, Josh still holding the line out front. I'm not sure what happened, I was concentrating on where I was going after all, but Josh must have misjudged the next turn as Roni managed a bit of wheel lock squiggle and suddenly I was back up to her and both of us ahead of the Toon.

Already being in top gear, pedaling wasn't going to help much, no I needed to resort to extreme aero! Yeah, bigger riders get more gravity assist but they are also a bigger lump to get through the air, so the theory is, outdo them on aero and you stand a chance. I slid forward from the saddle, settling my lady bits pretty much on the top tube, my torso pretty much resting on my forearms, almost impossible to pedal but my frontal aerea was reduced dramatically.

It was like you see in those Fast and Furious™ films when they hit the nitrous, I shot forward, whooshing past Ron, my eyes streaming even behind my glasses. There was a junction ahead, sugar, I didn't so much bottle it as decide that some retardation from the ninety kph the comp was showing would be a good idea! I hopped my bum back onto the saddle and sat up more.

"Yee-ha!” I bellowed as I sailed past a group of riders just leaving the restaurant place on the junction, I was still doing over fifty K but at least I'm used to that.
"You jammy bugger,” Ron exclaimed coming alongside as we lost speed on the first signs of uphill for about ten kilometres.
"You've either got it or...” I reached for my bidon, bum what happened to that?
"Here,” Ron passed me hers, "Yours bounced on that last dip.”
"Cheers, where's Waugh?”
"Right here Bond,” he allowed joining us just ahead of Teen and Erika.
"What happened?”
"Grabbed a bit too much anchor, so who got it?”

I half turned with a huge grin and waved the bottle in the air.

"I dunno how she did it,” Ron allowed, "Came past me like a Porsche.”
"Not this Porsche,” Tina put in with a chuckle.
"Come on guys, I need coffee,” Erika told us, "Fast piano, Dave said the cafe is at the Bergbahn.”

Most of that pell mell descent was through scrubby woodland but now we were in that desert landscape we glimpsed from the top. Its not that there's no plant life just that its restricted to sun dried grass and the odd low bush. This truly is an alien landscape, drifts of volcanic ash, a rather impressive cone that the road climbed past and no real shelter from the blazing sun anywhere.

There were quite a lot of bikes on this bit of road, I guess everyone wants to ride the Teide. We could see the cablecar station from a couple of K away, Dad passed us with a toot, hey maybe he'll have our order in when we get there, more likely not. There were some more substantial trees now, and cars parked all over the place, we swung into the road up to the Talstation but any ideas of an impromptu sprint were laid to rest by the number of cars and buses littering the approach.

 
"Enjoy that?” Dad enquired a few minutes later, sat in air conditioned comfort inside the restaurant.
"Enjoy might be a bit strong Dave,” Tina supplied.
"Well I thought it was fun,” I offerred, "That descent was fast with a capital F.”
"You might not enjoy it so much going back,” Petra opined.
"What?” Roni and I chorused much to the amusement of the others.
"Well how else are you going to get back to the hotel?” Dad queried.
"There must be other ways,” I stated.
"Oh there are, theres a different pass out to where we went Saturday or a much longer route up to San Cristobel.”
"Booga!” Josh pronounced.
"There is some good news though guys,” Petra put in.
"Which is?” Tina asked.
"You get tomorrow off.”

 
Maddy Bell © 12.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Tell you what,” I started as we returned to our steeds, "I'll stay here and catch you on the way back.”
"Not happening,” Dad told me.
"Nice try Hen,” Josh added giving me a friendly pat on the head.

Well a girl's gotta try right? Dad had a quick conflab with Erika before we threaded our way back down to the TF-23 road from where we started the long descent that would take us out to the coast for our lunch rendezvous. Unlike the stuff we've already ridden, this route took us quickly out of the desert and we were soon dropping through the first village we've seen since, well, before we did that nice downhill.

The road was fairly busy with bikes, cars and tourist buses, doing anything beyond negotiating it all safely wasn't on the cards. Even so, there were a few nice sweepy bits before things flattened out a bit and the fields once more hemmed the tarmac closely.

"This is the road that the Challenge uses,”
"Eh?”
"Thursday?” Tina emphasised.
"Oh right, thought we were riding it after lunch?”
"And how do we get to lunch?” Tina posed.

Okay, I hadn't really given it any thought.

"It doesn't seem too bad.”
"In a downhill sort of way,” Roni opined from behind.

Of course the road then started to descend through a series of turns that would make a bowl of spaghetti look straight, from tight hairpins to wide sweeping corners seemingly interspersed at random. It was good fun with each of us taking turns at point and soon we were entering a small town, the name, Granadilla de Abona, being much grander than the square block concrete apartment blocks deserve. We spotted the others sat outside a bar – restaurant place, I guess this is lunch.
 

Granadilla de Abona is no resort, unless you are staying there there's nothing to bring you here for a visit other than the road that we've just come down from Mount Teide. Lunch was Paella but lacking the usual shellfish and chorizo, instead they were liberally replaced by chicken and some sort of smoked fish. It could've been a bit bland but the vegetable element added some extra colour and the flat bread was laced with black olives – not only that but it arrived at our tables on these huge pan things so we could have our fill.

Apparently, the rest of the team had missed our meandering first climb, well not entirely but they had used a shorter route which had put them some way ahead of us. Indeed they didn't stop for coffee until that village we came through and then they had done a different descent with a bit of a loop to get to our lunch venue, they'd still beaten us but only by about ten minutes.

"Ladies, gentlemen,” George interrupted our post food chatter, "If I can have your attention.”

We quieted down and rearranged our seating a bit so we could all see the Boss.

"So, this afternoon. The first order is to give our grimpeurs some practice for Thursday so we'll do a short loop from here to warm up before giving them their heads up to Teide. Tina, Gaby, one hundred percent please, on Thursday the best riders will take about one hour fifteen, the frauen maybe thirty longer. So there is your target, its only twenty five kilometres, there are no grades over 10 percent so you won't be able to rely on getting advantage that way. Questions?”
"Can we all join in?” Mum queried.
"Be my guest,” George returned, "Make it as difficult as you can for Tina and your daughter.

I didn't like the feral grin that appeared on several faces, looks like I'm gonna have to work for my supper.
 
"You alright kiddo?” Dad asked, catching me as I returned from the ablutions.
"Bit nervous,” I admitted.
"Better that than over confident and don't worry about leaving anything in the tank to ride back, you and Tina get to drive back.”
"Kewl!”
"Keep that to yourself, George wants to see how everyone responds.”
“'kay, Mum's the word,” I agreed, "Talkng of which, what is it with her today?”
"She's very competitive and I think she wants to prove to George that she's worth her salary.”
“'course she is.”
"Things aren't always black and white Gab.”
"What do you mean?”
"Not now kiddo,” he advised, "You just concentrate on getting to the top first eh?”
I gave a shrug, "I'll try.”
He gave me a one armed hug, "Thats all we can ask.”
 
George's 'little loop' was a good ten kilometres and a chunk of that was of the upwards variety. I hid myself at the back, time for heroics will come soon enough. I watched Mum and the others, yeah, she's the elder stateswoman now Maria has 'retired', evidence that me, her seventeen year old daughter is here but she can still mix it with the younger girls, right? Back when I started getting into racing bikes it was always my dream to be riding with Mum but I always thought it would be Drew doing the riding, instead the curveball of life means I'm a fully functioning young woman so if that can change, I guess Mum's position can change too.

It was fun coming down before lunch, less so going up. Right from the get go you are climbing, not steeply but enough to know its uphill, and its not one steady grade either so getting into an early rhythm is nigh on impossible. It was only about a kilometre but I'm pretty sure that on Thursday, it'll be brutal, the good news was that it then eased off to a much nicer incline which even the flatlanders could cope with.

"How you wanna play this Hen?” Josh asked in low tones.

How do I? For today, with nothing at stake, I could sit in and watch, just react but come the race that's probably not gonna work, no, I, we, actually need a game plan. Dad's usually the tactician but so far he's kept schtum on the matter so I guess I need to come up with a way forward. The race is mixed, some top male pro riders will be taking part and some talented amateurs too, one things for sure, they're not going to be twiddling their thumbs waiting for some action.

"You alright dialing it up?”
"Ah guess so, eleven?”
"Twelve if you've got it.”

No, that's not the sprocket or gear but our code for effort level, that mocumentary has a lot to answer for! Josh gave me a wink and moved away as I took a sip from my bottle. Me and Josh go back a long way, we work very well as a team, its just a pity that this is the last year we'll be able to do that – well unless Josh converts to the dark side, like that'd happen, not.

We were jiggling along at a steady pace, Mum sat third wheel, Manda and Erika setting the steady pace, Tina behind her with the rest of us gathered behind. As Josh moved forward, I saw Daz nod before slipping out behind the Toon. Nice one Josh.

The lads went around the leading duo already going a couple of Klicks quicker which caused an immediate reaction from both Tina and Bond senior. Anja too, upped her efforts which saved me from having to swing past her just yet as the whole group shuffled into a new order. When Daz took over the effort, you could sense the slight relaxation of the others but instead of the pace dropping it actually went up to close on twenty five.

My pace setters started a fairly evenly matched rotation of effort which continued for a couple of kilometres which had the less able climbers strung out a bit. Sat sixth wheel I was quite comfortable but I could see that Daz was starting to tire, the couple of K above the comfort zone burning a lot of energy. I probably wasn't the only one who had picked up the signs, lets face it, the seniors have plenty of experience of stuff like this.

I kept an eye on the lead duo, something in the set of Josh's back suggested something was afoot when he relinquished point. Daz went through and the pace went up again, not much but this was going to clearly be his last input. Head down, he heaved the pedals around, the extra speed enough to stretch the elastic behind me almost to breaking point.

Of course it was never going to last long, with my computer showing seven kilometres from the start and the first hairpin cutting back above us, Daz relinquished the pace. The end was brutal, a last effort then he swung left and slumped over the bars, totally spent, dropping past us as though stood still. Now its down to Josh, yeah he's stronger, a regular power house but even so, there are limits.

 
When you watch the coverage of the big races you see this sort of thing, the trusty lieutenants giving all to protect their leaders, each taking their turn in the attritional battle with gravity until there are no more to take over the reigns. With luck the real contenders will still be there, but this is neither the pro peloton or a big race. Josh dragged us around the turn and quickly settled back into a punishing all or nothing pace setting.

What Daz's last effort had started, the hairpin turn completed, Mand lost her spot in the selection on the turn and a quick glance behind suggested the others were not going to play any further part in the assault. We might only be doing twenty five or so kph but its uphill, anyone claiming it wasn't hurting would be lying, I might not be on the front but a couple of times I could feel the burn on the steeper bits.

I've seen Josh do this stuff for several kilometres before now but ironically, today, just as the road flattened to almost level, he blew. Not as dramatically as Daz a couple of K previously but he sat up and was gone almost before the grey matter could compute what was happening. Now we are four.

 
Our speed held steady, mostly due to the lack of incline, was this the final selection? Well not if I have my way, we've still got about fifteen kilometres to go, so not even halfway but even so, if you aren't here now, you probably won't be at the front at the end. There was a mutual truce as we each tugged at bidons and took some food on board, I checked out the others, Mum and Tina both looked comfortable, Anja was the one looking a bit ragged.

Question is, what now? I'm pretty sure any move I make will be quickly shut down, Mum in particular has designs on getting one over me and Teen, Tina in turn will mark Mum like a hawk, she probably won't make her own move until the last knockings. So what about Anja, will she chase or retire from the effort and what should I do?

The answer, for now at least was to do as little as possible, it wasn't the twenty five we'd been towed along at by Josh but we were still doing low twenties. Well apart from the steeper ramps, not that they were long or that sharp an incline but they ate pace quite mercilessly. Tina and Mum were doing most of the pace setting, not that I didn't contribute, I just kept my time at the front as short as possible.

The sign as we approached Vilaflor claimed we were just shy of fourteen hundred metres so we still have seven hundred to climb and just over ten K to do it in. Whilst you can't see the road, its pretty obvious that we'll have the steeper grades in the last leg, get this far fairly fresh and you are in with a pop. I'm not sure if it was pre planned but as we steadily climbed up around the village, Anja took a flier.

Chase or not, I watched the others, Mum was poker faced in her non reaction but Tina had obviously made her decision and gave chase. Hmm. Mum wasn't showing any undue fatigue, so why didn't she chase Anja? I'm sure she's up to something.

Well whatever Mum's planning I'm gonna be there, I lost out to Teen last time due to my theatricals, today I get my revenge. The others gained about twenty metres, no more, whether they slowed or we sped up I couldn't really say but we were holding station with them as we hit the ramp to the first of three hairpins. Yeah, we've got a bunch of metres to climb so it was no surprise when the road tilted up ever more steeply through them.

Not only that but looking ahead it was clearly increasing in gradient up the mountainside. Tina was sharing the pace with Anja, I with Mum, the twenty metre gap was closing though and on one steeper than expected slope Anja almost stalled. We were almost up to her by the time she'd recovered forward motion which left Tina exposed ahead of us. The writing was on the wall, or rather the road, names were scrawled on the tarmac, you couldn't read them on the descent but our ten kph crawl upwards allowed us to read each and every one.

Anja tried to keep pace as we drew alongside but she was a spent force and soon slipped behind. As the road levelled a little after one of the steeper stretches Tina found some extra pace, by my reckoning we've still got about five kilometres to the top. The gap stretched another ten metres before Mum reacted, I was still on with my own plan, maybe Mum's is similar?

There was some horn blowing behind, then a familiar BMW passed us, I guess George wants to see us finish. A longer right hand bend brought us views across to the long left hander that looked like it took us to the top, before I knew it, Mum took off like a blue arsed wotsit. What choice did I have, she'd thrown down the gauntlet, I had to respond or it would be over.

It was earlier than I wanted but that's how the real world rolls I guess, I got out of the saddle to get back on top of my gears and gave chase. Tina's advantage was quickly eaten up by Mum, me a few metres adrift, not so far as to be out of touch, but far enough she wouldn't see my shadow. Mater led us past a muttering Fraulein Porsche, the computer suggested high teens speed and my heart knocking out over a hundred and ninety beats a minute.

Hmm, I looked ar the heart rate figure, Dad said we should max out at about two hundred and five maybe so providing I can control it I should have spare in the tank. Mum was really giving it some, we've passed a few other riders on the way up but the next few we went by as though they were stood still. I bade my time, even when the pace slowed a little, just a little farther, as we got into that next ramp.

No more time for delay, I have to go now, do or die, well that's maybe a bit over dramatic but you know what I mean, so long sucker! I stood on the pedals and heaved my fifty kilos up the road, taking a wide line to avoid alerting Mum too soon. As luck would have it, she was transitioning from saddle to stood as I drew alongside, neither one nor the other which delayed her reaction just a split second more.

It was Mum who told me to never look back, once you've committed stay committed, react to anything else if you can but stay focused on the goal. I sprinted up the slope for all my worth, is that the top there, by that car? I wrenched the pedals around with renewed fervour, come on Gabs, nearly there.

Except it wasn't, a fact I realised only as I eased slightly at the top, the road was still climbing ahead, albeit at a much reduced grade. Sugar, I crashed onto the saddle and flicked the gear paddle across a sprocket, I heard a mashing of gears behind me, damn you Mother! Back out of the saddle to get on top of the gear then back down into testing mode.

My legs were smashing around, another change of gear possibly slowed me slightly but it felt less frantic so I stayed with it. I spotted George and Petra ahead, that must really be the top, Mum still hasn't come past, should I look? Stay focused Gabrielle, stay focused. One last effort, out of the saddle, drop another sprocket as the speed increased and then , yes, made it!

 
I was vaguely aware of another bike behind me even as I gulped in air, Mum I guess, however, I nearly jumped out of my skin when a mans voice addressed me in German.

"Well done youngster.”
"Er thanks.”

We both rolled to a halt maybe a hundred metres from the summit.

"I chased you from the willage, i thought I had you but then you took off again, Alberto by the way.”
"Er Gaby Bond.”
"Ah, so the rainbow is real eh? You are the Deutche wunderkind then.”
"Er, I don't know about that,” I got out between gasps.
"Alberto chasing the ladies again!”

I looked to see who this other voice belonged to as I slipped my helmet off, another rangy young bloke wearing the same Discovery Channel strip as Alberto.

"Chasing but not catching Levi.”
"I can't believe that Conti,” he stated pulling up beside us.
"Its true, Levi Leipheimer meet Gaby Bond, the bands are genuine my American friend.”
"Nice to meet you Gaby Bond.”

That name sounds familiar, I wonder, "And you, did I meet you a couple of years ago in Atlanta, you were riding with Lance?”
"Atlanta, Atlanta, oh sure the Classic, you were watching?”
"Riding.”
"Well well done to you, so you guys on a training camp?”
"Er yeah and I'm riding the Challenge on Thursday.”
"Look out Alberto, looks like you have some competition!”
"Gaby!” a familiar voice called from up the road.
"Sounds like I'm wanted,” I sighed.
"I should wish you luck,” Alberto suggested, "But I don't want to jinx my own chances.”
"Well maybe we'll meet on the climb,” I offered.
"Gaby!”
"I think your team want you back,” Levi opined.
"Yep.”
"Nice meeting you Gaby Bond.”
"Now who's chasing the girls Lippy, come on, we still have three hours to do.”
"Have a good ride guys.”
"And you Gaby Bond,” Levi told me even as they pushed off away from the summit.
 

"So who were those guys?” Mum asked when I arrived back at the summit.
"Er, Levi and Alberto, I think they ride for Discovery.”

Hang on, Discovery, Levi called him Conti, oh sugar, he must be that Contador bloke, it was in Radsport last month about him contracting to Discovery.

"Well the first one went past me like a rocket,” Mum observed.
"He was chasing us from that village.”
"So did he catch you? I couldn't see past that coach.”
"Coach? No I was nearly stopped when he caught me.”

"Gabrielle,” George enthused, "Wunderbar!”
"Erm?”
"One hour and thirty one minutes.”
"Is that good?”
"Is that good she asks, last year the fastest man was at one nineteen, the frauen, one forty three.”
“Looks like you are in with a shot,” Mum suggested.
 

"Really?” Mand complained as everyone gathered to complete the day's activities.
"Really,” Dad confirmed.
"That's a right swizz.”
"Hey, don't blame me, it wasn't my idea,” I told her.

Tina and my motorised return to the hotel had not gone without comment, mostly from my room mate.

"Well I still think its a swizz making the rest of us ride back over that other mountain.”
"Stop griping and get riding or we'll miss dinner,” Gret suggested.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"It does seem a bit mean, making everyone else ride back,” I mentioned to the occupants of the minibus as we followed the Apollinaris peloton across the Teide desert landscape.
"I'm not complaining,” Tina stated.
"How is it you Brits say, don't look in the mouth of a horse,” Kat added.
"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth,” I corrected, "And my passport says I'm German, you're right though Pinger.”

Dad chuckled.

"What?”
"Nothing kiddo.”
"No come on, what am I missing?”
"Better tell her Dave,” Kat suggested.
"Okay, after the coffee stop its only the seniors who are riding back, all of the Jungere squad get to ride the bus from there.”
"So all Manda's moaning...”
"It was always planned this way,” Dad advised.
"Why didn't you say?”
"We wanted to see everyone's reaction, it was quite interesting that no one was complaining about the riding bit that much, it was you two getting preferential treatment that was the craw.”
"Which means?”
"Lets just say its something for management to worry about not you.”
 

"I'm glad we don't have to ride up to the top of that,” Tina observed, staring up at the cone of Mount Teide looming high above us.
"Yeah,” I agreed, "I bet there's a great view from up there though.”
"We could go up tomorrow,” Dad suggested.
"Eh?”
"Unless you've got anything else planned.”
"The water park was mentioned.”
"Well its up to you, its on offer.”
“'kay.”

Don't get me wrong, I quite enjoy hanging around a pool, catching a few rays, chillin' with my friends but I'm a sucker for a bit of sightseeing too. Knowing Dad he's got more than a cablecar ride in mind, probably some old castle or the like, I can work on my tan the rest of the week.
 

Our little convoy reached the cablecar turn off and started the generally downward tilted ride toward the still distant ridge that lies between us and the north coast. There's not a lot to see but its more comfortable doing it from an air conditioned bus than riding a bike. The most interesting thing really was the vent cone that looms out of the valley floor, it reminded me a bit of something i've seen before – oh I remember, we stopped on the way to a race back in England once, something hill.

"Dad?”
"Whats up kiddo?”
"What was that hill place we stopped at that time?”
"You'll need to be a bit more specific.”

Kat sniggered.

"We were going to a race and we stopped at this place that looked like a volcano but it wasn't.”

He didn't reply straight off, clearly trying to recall something from what, maybe four, five years ago.

"Silbury, you did that twenty five at Trowbridge. What about it?”
"Apart from the desert, it looks just like that mini cone ahead.”
"I guess,” he allowed, "Your Mother is the one to talk to about that stuff, something about material stiction or some such.”
"If you say so.”
 

After that we seemed to close on the ridge and the ensuing climb quite quickly, when the signs for the turnoff came I was a bit surprised, but that meant we were at the cafe place too. Being late afternoon it wasn't so busy so Team Apollinaris descending on the place caused no more than a bit of table shuffling. Drinks were soon ordered, Kat and Petra were soon occupied with attending sore legs and applying extra sunblock – it doesn't take long to get burnt.

It might seem like we are spending a lot of time eating and drinking, but there's good reason. Back in Germany we probably wouldn't be out so long this time of year so we might have one stop during a four hour ride but its a lot warmer here. Well duh, that's obvious right but that means you need to keep hydrated and if you are doing a full day, well fuelled too.

Anyone riding all the way back will have done the thick end of two hundred kilometres today with a not inconsiderable amount of climbing so splitting the ride up, taking on board calories and H²O in addition to what#s on the bike prevents over stressing the body. I know, science, not my favourite subject but we had lectures on this stuff when me and Mand, well and the rest, were at the BC camp in Manchester. Yeah, physical fitness is like ninety percent of riding, but mental fitness and fueling are essential too and besides which, who doesn't like a coffee stop?

In the end it was decided that the seniors would only ride to the top of the pass rather than all the way, time was getting on and whilst dinner could be delayed, eating at like twenty one would be less than ideal. The junior team were all loaded up and not having to follow the others, we were back at the hotel in about forty five minutes which meant Petra had attended to all of the tired bodies before the seniors got back which meant quicker service for them. Oh yeah, Tina rode the pass, to be honest I think she would've ridden the whole way but George had insisted she rest.
 

I gave a little girly giggle, well I am a girl.

"Max?” Mand queried.
"Yeah,” I agreed turning my Handy so she could see the selfie he'd just sent.
"Ew, gross!” my room mate opined, "What is that?”
"Weisswürst and Sauerkraut.”
"It looks disgusting.”

The picture was in reply to my own culinary photography of dinner, which I hasten to add was very nice but the dressed octopus on the table was a little off putting, those eyes were watching me, I'm sure of it.

"Why is he eating whatever that is?” Mand asked popping her ear buds out.
"Some sort of Bavarian themed night at the restaurant.”
"You Germans eat some weird stuff.”
"Its only tripe.”
"I arrest my case, who on earth would want to eat offal?”

I sort of have to agree, well I suppose kidneys and liver are strictly speaking offal but tripe, no thank you.

"Its supposed to be a bit of a delicacy,” I offered.
"But not if you've got a delicate stomach.”
"Very droll.”
"I thought so,” she grinned, obviously pleased at her attempt at humour.
 

I was about to call it a night when my Handy beeped to announce another message.

'which u pref – Flamingo, pastel or coral? N'

Even for one of my friends that was slightly off the wall.

'for ? G'

"Hair 4 tour' came back almost before i'd finished.

Yeah, I know we talked about this before I came away, I hadn't given the actual colour of the Perückes any thought. My stage persona being Erdbeere, I guess a redder shade would be better, not too red, I don't want to look like Ronald! On the other hand, they're wigs so its only for the stage and the odd interview from what Stefan was saying.

'coral I think.'
'k fnd place on web, will go 2mro 4 lk'
'get rech. So can claim 4'
'k ?s Can?'
'hot!'
'xpect schnee 2mro here!'

Exactly why we are here.

'snd pic of hair'
'k ltr'
'xG'

I lay back on my bed, I guess Nena, or should I say Misty, is enthused by the whole tour thing which is good. Claudia was the sister with the adventurous streak, Nena has always been more sober, when Claudia passed we were all worried about her. There's nothing you could put a finger on but she's been quieter, the BlauHase tour seems to have given her a new zest for life.
 

"Anyone coming to Teide,” Dad announced as we sat chatting after breakfast, "Outside reception in ten.”

Well you didn't think it would be just me and Dad did you? Daz, Mum, Anita and Kat are coming too, the lure of shopping, sand and the waterpark proving too much for the others. Six is a good number, room to spread out a bit in the minibus, you can easily get a table in restaurants and you are less likely to lose anyone. For once I was organised, I headed to the facilities not needing to return to the room for anything.

It might be quite early but the minibus was still quite warm inside when we clambered aboard despite the air con working overtime. I think everyone, well the riders at least, was feeling the effects of yesterday a bit, it was after all a long, hot day and riding the Challenge course at full gas was bound to have some effect on us. Dad set us in motion, the air con changing note slightly as we descended from the hotels lofty heights to join the motorway.

Yesterday, on the bikes, it had taken nearly two and a half hours, it was a lot quicker in the bus but even so, the fifty or so kilometres took best part of an hour. It was already quite busy with trippers when we arrived just before ten but we got parked not too far from the cable car or as its properly called, the Teleférico del Teide's base station where we'd stopped for coffee yesterday morning.

"Okay,” Dad started once we'd walked up to the station, "Hang on here and I'll sort out some tickets.”
"We'll just be over by the shop,” Mum replied.

Well you have to look right? We didn't go inside, you could see it was the usual tourist tat just with a Mt.Teide twist. Its just as well really, Dad was back with us in under five minutes.

"I've got us an early discount but we have to get the next trip up.”
"Can't see that as a problem,” Anita allowed.

It wasn't quite a run, call it a fast walk, navigating through the building and up to the station proper, we did the ticket validation thing and were ushered straight on board.

"I've never been on one of these things,” Daz told us as the gondola slipped out of the station to start its ascent
"Really?” Kat queried.
"Nope,” he confirmed, "Well unless you count the thing at Matlock but that's nothing like this.”

Of course, he wasn't with us when we went skiing last year, hmm, that was quite a trip, I'm guessing we won't be finding Prince William at the top of this mountain. And that was what felt strange as we climbed up the side of Mount Teide, snow or the lack of to be more precise, not even any trees or grass. I know there is sometimes snow in Africa, but I reckon its a super rare thing in the Canaries, as ski resorts go, this place is a non starter, that's what seemed a bit odd in the station below, no sign of anything to do with winter, ie snow, sports.

I've been on a few of these things and what they don't usually do is go straight from top to bottom, there's either a turn or at least a change in gradient but the Teleférico del Teide just goes straight as an arrow up the mountainside. The one thing that you do get though is an ever expanding view, at first it was mostly the basin around the base of the cone but almost with every metre gained that view expanded to reveal more ocean and more of the island dropping down to the water. By the time we disembarked at the top station, still some way from the summit, the view extended right along the eastern coastline and easily seen despite the slight haze, Gran Canaria with its own volcanic cone and further again to Fuertaventura and Lanzarote.

"Phewee!” Daz allowed.
"Not bad,” Pater agreed as we headed along the path towards the restaurant.
"Wish i'd brought a jacket,” Kat mentioned , hugging herself against the decidedly cool air.

She wasn't the only one, my cami top, shorts and sandals were a little less than ideal too.

"So I guess we're not going up to the top?” Mum queried.
"Erm, cold enough here,” I pointed out, "How much higher is it anyway?”
"Only about a hundred and fifty metres,” we were advised.

Yeah, a hundred and fifty up and if I'm not mistaken, there is actually some white stuff up there, nope not happening.

"Come on,” Dad suggested, ” lets get some coffee eh?”

"So exactly how high is this mountain?” I asked.
Mum, being the fount of all things geological and geographical in the family, was straight there, "Just over thirty seven hundred metres, its the highest peak in Spain.”
"Not exactly 'in' Spain though is it?” Erika pointed out.
"Its almost like saying Gibraltar is the southernmost tip of Britain,” Dad opined.
"Or the Falklands Dad,” I suggested.
"If we are being silly, you could include the Antarctic Territory,” Mum observed.
Daz turned and addressed me, "Its a good job you aren't racing all the way up to here.”
"Too right!”
"I bet they would if there was a proper road,” Erika postulated.
"You can bet on it,” I added.

By now we were in the warmer confines of the restaurant place, Mum and Erika went to fetch beverages whilst the rest of us grabbed a table.
 

"Worth coming?” Dad enquired.
"Pretty impressive,” Darren allowed.
"I wasn't expecting snow,” I added.
"I think there's some here all year,” Kat told us, "All the pictures look like there's white on top.”

I checked out the images hanging from the walls, views from the top, I guess, aerial shots, clearly posed visitors hiking to the top and yep, whilst not in alpine quantities, there were splahes of white around the summit area in all of them. The coffee squad returned with not just beverages but a plate of those Churrio things.

"The cake looked a bit yesterday,” Mum advised, "They were doing these fresh.”
 

After our coffee break we returned to a slightly less frigid exterior and spent a few minutes doing the tourist thing, daft pictures and that. There was actually a mobile signal so I sent one cheesy shot to everyone in my phone book, well its a lot easier than a postcard to everyone – and cheaper. Our early bird tickets meant we had to return to the foot of the mountain no later than twelve, which to be honest, as we weren't going walking or really dressed to be up there, was fine.

It was much warmer – and busier back at the bottom, we made use of the facilities and headed back to the bus.

"Back to the hotel?” Dad posed.
"You had better be joking Dave Bond,” Mum shot back.
"Well I guess we'd best go find some lunch then.”

There was no dissention in the ranks so we quickly mounted up and set off down to that blasted TF-21.

"Coast okay, or we can just find somewhere along the road.”
"It'll be busy on the coast Dave,” Erika noted, "Somewhere a bit quieter maybe?”
"That okay with everyone else?”
"Fine,” Mum told him, "Just drive, its like an oven in here.”

I forgot to mention that, whilst we were freezing our extremeties near the top of Teide, the bus has been sat cooking at the bottom. There was no way the aircon could cope without a bit of help so we had all the windows open to help vent the hot air. Dad obviously had some sort of plan for the afternoon, instead of following the road down to Vilaflor, he turned off onto what looked to be a fairly new road which took us around the western flank of the mountain before taking some wide loops down towards the coast.

Its not as steep as the Challenge road up through Vilaflor but whoever built it clearly had a thing against corners, it must be a nightmare to ride a bike up it. Eventually there were a few corners and on the next long straight there was a restaurant with views down to the coast. There were only a couple of cars outside, Dad pulled the bus off the road to join them.

The Restaurante Boca Tauce turned out to be spot on, reasonably priced, a great view and an airy outside dining area with tented shade. Now then, where's the menu, I wonder if they do schnitzel?
 
Maddy Bell © 17.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"So where now Dave?” Mum enquired as we reconvened at our transport an hour later.
"Bit more sightseeing?” Dad suggested.
"We're in your hands Dave,” Erika replied.
"Girs? Darren?”
"Sure,” Daz agreed.
Kat gave a shrug, "Its what we came for today.”
"What she said,” I added.
"In that case,” Dad grinned, "Times a wastin'!”

The bus wasn't quite so hot this time, we'd left it in the shade and with the windows open – we were sat about five metres away, so the air conditioning soon had us down to a more comfortable temperature. The road dropped down for another couple of kilometres to where we dropped onto the TF-1 autobahn. Not that we were on it long, five K tops and one of those was through a tunnel, there literally wasn't any more motorway.

It didn't seem to be a problem though, there wasn't a lot of traffic as we headed into Santiago del Teide where we turned onto the four three six which was signed for Buenavista del Norte – where we rode to on Saturday. It was pretty obvious that we had to cross a mountain to get there, what wasn't immediately obvious was just how the road attained the summit. The climbing started pretty much as soon as we exchanged the village for the scrubby countryside.

A few gentle bends led us quite rapidly up to the first 'pins, giving us glimpses of the coast southwards before another set of bends took us down again. Not for long, another few hairpins and we were gaining height again up to a tiny village remote enough to have avoided the trappings of the tourist industry. Its neighbour however was not so lucky, car parks, shops and restaurants aplenty ensured ample visitors, we however continued through, the road consistantly gaining altitude.

Across to our right a higher range of hills rose above us, it wasn't a great surprise to find our road turning back on itself a couple of kilometres further on to climb the mesa. A final kick saw us over the top and the descent started from Las Portelas down a series of wide loops before the coast appeared ahead of us and a set of hairpins dropped us to the coastal plain. I think everyone bar Dad thought we were going to stop in Buenavista but instead of going into the town we took a left out through huge orchards and acres of glass houses.

Even they soon came to a halt to be replaced by spectacular cliffs and ocean views as the road hugged the coastline. It wasn't long before, straight as an arrow, the tarmac headed down toward the sea and a couple of minutes more before Dad had the bus parked above the black sands of, according to the signs, the Playa Punto de Teno.

"End of the line folks,” Dad grinned, "We have to walk from here.”
"To where pray,” Mum enquired.
"Punto de Teno, its the westernmost point of the island,” Dad supplied.
"Hmm,” Mum allowed, "Guess its worth a look.”

And so the six of us walked down to the lighthouse and along the boardwalk to the viewing platform, its a nature reserve so you are restricted to the official paths. Then we made our way around to the tiny bay where we used the toilets, the only nod to visitors beyond the car parking. It was nice, if thats your sort of thing, I prefer my scenery to have trees and a bit less wet involved.
 

"Could murder a coffee,” Daz sighed as we climbed back to the bus.
"Yeah,” I agreed, "I bet a kiosk here would be a right little earner.”
"It is a nature reserve,” Kat pointed out.
"And?”
"Sometimes Bond,” she sighed.
"We can stop in the town,” Dad suggested, "Pretty sure I saw a couple of places the other day.”

We loaded up and retraced to Buenavista where we found a coffee shop cum hamburger place at the bus station. The coffee and cake was passable, the burgers and pommes tempting but we had a decent lunch and by the time we get back from here, dinner will be almost upon us. Of course, just about every other customer through the door purchased some variation of burger and fries, the gits!
 

Its only about thirty five kilometres from Buenavista to Puerto de la Cruz and its all on good roads, even with a bit of traffic it only took half an hour in the minibus. It seemed like a good idea to get a shower before dinner especially as there was no immediate sign of any of the 'stay at home' crowd. I was just finishing off when I heard the door go.

"That you Mand?”

Well who else would it be?

"Heya.”
"Good day?” I asked poking my head out of the door as I dried the worst of the wet from my locks.
"Pwwwf, okay I guess, you?”
"Yeah, not bad, we went up Teide on the cable car then to this lighthouse place on the coast. You been at the waterpark all day?”
"Not all day, we didn't go in till just before lunch, Tal and Gret wanted look around the shops, not that theres a lot there.”
"I bet all the decent shops are in that mall place,” I suggested.
"You might be right, i think Tina and Anja went there, you finished in there?”
 

"I hope you all enjoyed the downtime,” George mentioned, addressing us after another 'healthy' evening meal, "Back to the serious stuff tomorrow.”
"There's always a catch,” Roni quietly opined.
"So,” the Boss continued, "We'll drive over to our base for the day, we'll be doing some testing and fitness modeling, I'm told the area we are going to is well off the beaten track so we should have the roads pretty much to ourselves. Usual time at reception please.
I'll just touch on Thursday, obviously Tina and Gaby are doing the challenge, the rest of you will do a ride around to Teide so you can support them. Questions?”

There being none, we were dismissed to our own devices for the rest of the evening.
 

"So what're we doing then?” Daz asked, all the youth squad plus Roni having migrated to the veranda.
"Karaoke?” Gret proferred.
"There's kickball on tonight,” I observed, "Can't see them prefering our yodeling to the European Cup.”
"For someone who hates football you seem to know an awful lot,” Mand suggested.
"Its on the chalk board,” I pointed out, er pointing at said information.
"How about the Mall place?” Roni suggested, "Its open till ten.”
"Well I'm game,” Tal told us.
"More shopping Hen?” Josh complained.
"There's probably a games arcade or something,” I guessed.
"What ya reckon Daz man?”
"Probably more exciting than painting my nails,” Daz joked.
"Ooo, nail painting,” Mand hammed.
"We getting a taxibus then?” Gret queried.
"Unless you want to walk like two kilometres?” Tal told her.
"Thats settled then,” Roni declared, "Back here in ten, I'll get reception to order the bus.”

Why not go straight away? well duh, we've got to get our bags and I for one am not going without at least some lippy and mascara.

"Trainers or sandals?” Mand mused as I gave my kissers a coat of 'Desert Rose'.
"You shopping or running?”
"Sandals.”

"Where are you off to?”Mum enquired when we nearly ran her down at the lift.
"The shopping mall, its open till ten.”
"The others going?”
"And Ron,” Manda supplied.
"Well don't be too late eh.”
"We won't,” I sighed.
"I mean it Gaby, you're here for training, not partying.”
"Yes Mum.”
"Manda?”
"Got it Mrs B,” my room mate confirmed.

"What took you?” Tali asked when we finally reached reception.
"We got caught by Jenny,” Mand advised, "Where're the others?”
"Outside waiting, come on.”

​ The taxi bus ride was barely five minutes, it really isn't that far from the hotel but there's the little matter of the TF-5 separating us from the mall or to give it its full name, the Centro Comercial La Villa. Its probably a good job we were in the taxi anyhow, its quite a warren of roads, car parking and outlets just to get to the pedestrian entrance, pretty its not but I guess you don't come to these places for the architecture.
​  

"Wow, this place is huge,” Gret exclaimed.

Well it was okay I guess, the shops are all on one level arranged along 'streets' that reminded me a bit of the foodcourt at Meadowhell, a rather too neat and tidy version of the old town. A quick glance through at the still bustling crowds bags suggested the usual mix of big brands like Benneton mixed with, I guess, Spanish brands and smaller independent stores.

"Tha Met-ro Centa's bigger,” Josh opined.
"And Meadowhall,” I added.
"Well its bigger than the center in Cottbus,” Gret told us.
"I bet there's a big mall in Berlin,” I suggested, not that I could recall seeing one when we went with the school, "You know, like Centro in Essen.”
"Probably,” she allowed, "There's a bit of one in Leipzig, not like this though.”
"You'll have to take me to this Metro place when I come over Josh,” Tal proposed.
"Aye,” Josh agreed, "So where to like?”

I looked at the plan, its not as linear as a lot of these places, instead there are two main streets with a couple of connecting lanes.

"What about we go down one side and round?”
"Sounds like a plan,” Mand agreed.
"There's Macdonald's™ down the other end,” Daz stated.

Well, what more encouragement do you need? Our gaggle of teens needed none and we were soon exploring the shopping opportunities.
 

You don't need a blow by blow account, well you're not going to get one anyway, Daz and Josh did the 'boyfriend' thing whilst the rest of us occasionally went into a store but mostly checked out the window displays. It was a good mix of shops but that meant that a good number weren't of much interest to our posse, kids fashion, kitchen equipment, mens fashion, well you know what I mean.

We did have a mooch in Pimkie but the stuff was much the same as at home, I was tempted by some of those Espadril things in one of the Spanish chains but Gret pointed out that the same thing was about half the price down in the old town. Maccy D wasn't the only food outlet of course but you know what you're getting so we commandeered a bunch of seats, the lads even volunteered to fetch our 'supper'.
 

"That the time?” Roni enquired even as she twisted my arm around to look at my wrist watch.
"Quarter to ten,” Darren confirmed checking his own time piece.
"Guess we'll have to come back to do the rest,” Mand proposed.
"If we's not doin' more shops does anyone fancy apple pie like?” Josh asked the assembly.
"Apple pie? Where from?” I queried in turn.
"He-ar of course.”
"Those deep fried things?”
"Aye,” he agreed.

It was a no brainer, the lads had fetched our drinks and fries for everyone, I coulda murdered the cheeseburger Josh got for himself, or even a bit of Daz's chicken burger but clearly the lads were immune to my mind bending. So yes, I did want apple pie, deep fried or not. Of course, nothings ever that simple, by the time the Toon got back, it was clear that the staff wanted shot of us so we gathered outside.

"They only had two apple,” Josh advised, "So's I got berry for the rest.”
"Well I'm not fussy,” Ron stated relieving Josh of a hot box.

If you've not had one, they're a bit like a fruit turnover, deep fried and supplied in a sort of tube thing that you hold to eat it from. The filling, whether apple or berries is like that pie filling you get in jars, thick and sweet and when cooked, very hot – you really don't want to bite straight into one fresh from the fryer. Once distributed, we set off for the exit, the direction obvious by the general flow of the remaining bodies in the mall.

"I didn't see that,” Mand mentioned, pointing at a sign for a multiplex.
"Sure, it was down near Macdonald's,” Tali advised.

The film posters suggested that most of the offerings were not exactly world cinema but stuck amongst them was the latest Disney feature Bridge to Terabithia and what I'm guessing is some sort of follow up to that Hannibal thing with the butterfly, Hannibal Rising. I'm more into the sci-fi and adventure stuff myself but my sister is a horror fan.

Bit academic really, we're not here for the cinema, in fact we're not here for much longer full stop. At the entrance / exit we spotted a taxi rank and were soon in a queue of automobilia departing the Centro Comercial La Villa.

"We could come to the cinema tomorrow,” Gret proposed
"It'll all be in Spanish,” Daz stated.
"Probably,” I agreed.
Ever the practical one, Ron had a suggestion, "We could ask at the hotel, you never know.”
"As long as its not some chick flick,” Daz opined.
"You could always paint your nails,” Mand smirked, "I've got some nice pale pink in the room.”
"Ha de har!”
"Just saying, sweetie.”

Any escalation was halted by our arrival back at the Hotel las Águilas and with it a need to procure the taxi fare. Ten euros seemed a bit steep but I guess there are seven of us, to save doing the math and mucking about, I paid, I'm sure I'm up for the day anyhow.
 
Maddy Bell © 20.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
The 'race' wasn't until midday but even so, the race team, ie me and Tina, were sat in the team bus waiting for George to appear not much after eight. It was a bit surreal, just the two of us and our bikes in the back, Mike and Petra up front, add in the Boss and the support team outnumber the riders! Not that I'm complaining, but Dad usually has to be driver, mechanic and masseuse on his own for six of us – well unless Gret's parents are along or he can arm twist Angela to help out.

I picked at the leg of my skinsuit, yep, today isn't long enough to need pockets for food, fluids yes but we won't be riding long enough to metabolise solids. I was admiring the contrast between my tanned leg and the white spandex when the bus rocked with the arrival of George.

"Ready Bossman?” Mike enquired.
"Lets go,” George agreed.

Mike was driving which I was kind of glad about, George has a tendency to drive like Mum, think Fast & Furious and I rather fancied keeping my breakfast.

"Looking forward?” Tina queried as we descended the hill from the hotel.
"Sort of.”
"Only sort of? I thought you'd be excited to be taking part in such a prestige event.”
"I am but its a bit scary too,” I admitted.
"The famous double Weltmeisterin scared? I don't believe it.”
"But thats just it, everyone is expecting me to perform today, but what if I can't, what if my best isn't good enough?”
"Gaby Bond, i've known you for what, four years? You have never not performed when it matters, you give a hundred and ten percent just like your mama so less of the self doubt eh.”
"Yeah but thats against other Jungere, there's like top Pro's riding today.”
"Some of which are not that much older than you,” Tina pointed out.
"But...”
"But nothing, you'll be fine.”
"You two okay back there?” George enquired from up front.
"Sure Boss, just talking tactics.”
"Ha, start fast then go faster eh!” he chortled.
"Something like that,” Tina returned.

 
Of course, from Puerto de la Cruz to the start of todays effort is either a long loop around the coast or a trip through Teide on the same road we used the other day, as we wanted to get there in reasonable time, the autobahn won out. I'm not sure it was a lot quicker by the time we'd covered the extra kilometres, it was knocking on ten when we reached the makeshift event HQ. I say makeshift, it was actually quite pro, team parking in the public car park and an event 'village' on the plaza next to Vilaflors main religious building.

We were far from the first to arrive, nor the last, Mike getting us parked between an anonymous Seat Alhambra and a big Volvo estate sporting a full on pro team roof rack emblazoned with 'Pinarello Racing Team' in a garish purple against the cars black paint.

"Okay girls,” George turned in his seat to address us, "Petra'll go with you to sort out the paperwork, espresso for me, Mike?”
"Usual please.”

Great, now we're waitresses too.

"Come on you two,” Petra chivvied, "Leave them to it, licence Gaby?”

Look, I know I can be a bit of a ditz but one thing I do not forget is my racing licence!

"Dad?”
"Your mum,” she advised.

You'd think I was a little kid.

 
It wasn't far to the 'village', the race HQ that is, maybe a hundred and fifty metres, a distance which took but a couple of minutes to cross. I was a bit surprised to see a couple of Eurosport TV trucks amongst the array of marquees and Ezyups providing shade for the various facilities that seem to be a requirement at any big event these days. There were of course lots of people milling about, officials, riders, the merely curious, chatting, drinking, well just normal stuff I guess.

I spotted a sign for 'Kontrol' and started in that direction.

"Where're you off to Gab?”
"Eh, to sign on?”
"Not yet, got to sort your entries first,” Pet advised.
"I thought we were invited? We've made all this effort and we aren't even entered?”
"Welcome to our world,” Tina stated.
"Come on, the Buro is over here,” Petra told us.
"So we get invited but we aren't actually entered?” I quizzed.
"Its mostly these smaller events,” Tina replied, "You get an invite, we accept so we are on the sheet but Pet or George have to do the dirty when we arrive.”
"Dirty?”
"She means the paperwork Gab,” Pet put in waving the envelope in her hand.
"And paying the entries,” Tina added.
"Paying?”
"Well you don't think we race for free do you?”

To be honest i'd never given it much, no, any thought. I guess Dad sorts out all that stuff, I just sign on the dotted line, hand over my licence and race. I can sort of see why it might be different for the seniors, more teams chasing rides, it could get a bit out of hand for high profile events. We soon joined a short queue of other team officials waiting to pay their dues in the buro.

 
"Okay, you two get signed on, I'll get the coffee,” Pet suggested.
"See if you can grab some biscotti,” Tina requested.
"If they've got any.”
"Come on Gab's, time to flash that licence.”

It was a bit weird at the Kontrol, queuing up with a mostly male, mostly senior level riders, neither Tina nor myself are exactly tall, okay, we're short, a lot of our fellow competitors today are like half a metre taller than us, intimidating, much. Sometimes I wish I was a bit taller but my lot seems to be as the shortest of any group I'm associated with but of course, great things come in small packages.

They were making quite a show of the sign on today, the official exchange of licence and signature first and then we joined a second queue to be introduced and sign one of those perspex affairs for Eurosport. Joy.

"Smile Gab.”
"If I must,” I sighed before switching on a cheerful grin.

I followed Tina up the couple of steps onto the stage .

"Well we've already seen the current Masters World Champion sign on, we now have the current double junior girls World Champion, and German national champion, Gabrielle Bond and her Apollinaris team colleague, Tina Porsche!”

There was a smattering of applause from the small peanut gallery, well this is mostly for TV, which I acknowledged with a little wave before taking my turn at the board.

"So Gabrielle,” the MC started once we'd cleared the signing board, "How is the training camp going?”
"Well I think, the whole team are looking pretty sharp.”
"And today, your chances, it is a quite select field?”
"When our director said he wanted me to ride I was a bit unsure to be honest but I think the bands will be honoured.”
"Thank you, Gabrielle Bond, Team Apollinaris, at seventeen already a three time World Champion.”

 
"The whole team are looking pretty sharp,” Tina chuckled, mimicking my reply to the Eurosport inquisition.
"Well what was I supposed to say?” I countered as we made our way back to the bus.
"Dunno, you certainly didn't give anything away.

 
"Fecking hell Keith!”
"Mal, Mal, calm down, I know what Phil said last week but we're not exactly World Tour are we?”
"Ah guess you're right.”
"Look, we've got just over an 'our, I'll see if I can borrow one, get changed, do your warm up and stop fretting.”

The argument in heavily accented English, was in full flow at the side of the Volvo as we returned to the bus. Clearly the younger of the two had some issue with the black Pinarello Dogma leant against the car. English then, somewhere in the back of my noggin there was a hint of recognition of the older chap, Keith was it?

Of course, our own steeds were set up on the turbo's under the Ezyup ready for our own warm up, I smiled again at my sparkly steed, i've come a long way from using Mum's hand me downs.
 

"Er excuse me.”

I looked up to find the harassed 'Keith'.

"Does anyone sprechen English?”
"A little,” I allowed.
"Great, look I was wondering if you guys might have a thirty six chainring we could borrow, not many people are on Campag but I see you guys are, Mally's bike was s'posed to 'ave one but its arrived with a thirty nine, Keith by the way.”
"Mike, you got a minute?”

Our spanner man poked his head out of the buses rear door.

"What's up Gab? That rear mech still a bit off?”
"No its fine, Keith here's on the scrounge.”
"For what?”
"Mike's our mechanic Keith, he might have something in his box.”

His face lit up which is when I recognised him, of course I know him, Keith Lambert, he gave us a talk when I was with BC in Manchester the other year, he was a pro before I was born.

"Cheers, Mally can be a bit of a prima, but he's a reet lad, thanks lass.”

"How to make friends and influence people,” Tina smirked.
"Its only what Mum or Dad would do.”
"I wasn't having a go Gab, even the mighty George has had to go on the scrounge a few times.”
"Talking of which, where is he?”
"Pressing hands no doubt, there's bound to be contacts here, a good show here might open a few doors.”
"Right.”
"So, you know this English?” she nodded toward where Mike and Keith were looking at 'Mals' bike.
"Sort of, he used to be a pro back when Mum was first racing, I met him at that thing in Manchester.”
"Don't think he recognised you.”
"I've changed a bit since then.”
"Yeah, you're even prettier and curvier.”
"Teen, you do talk some rot!”
"If I do so does your mutter.”
"She never said that.”
"Maybe not exactly those words.”
 

"Five, four, three, two, one.”

PAARP!

Click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, click, several dozen shoes snapped onto pedals as the 2007 Mount Teide Challenge got underway. When I say underway, we have a kilometre of neutral zone down through the village before we join the TF21 and the race starts with a vengeance.

Starts are always a bit nervy but at least these roads were well surfaced and fairly wide which meant there was room for a couple of little un's to slip forward from our start position some fifty odd riders from the front. George might've been joking about the tactics for today earlier but in truth he wasn't far wrong, if you lose contact with the front your chances of getting back are small. What doesn't help is that there are potentially a lot of 'ringers' in todays peloton, being a big name pro won't give you any more advantage than a front row start.

I spotted Senor Contador, seems his was a popular wheel as 'Mal' from the car park was tucked in a couple of wheels back too. The pointy end of things was however loaded with a handy looking selection of pro team jerseys, young men full of confidence in their abilities. I know there were some other ladies taking part, I saw them earlier but by the time we got the green flag, they'd already said sayonara to any hopes of being in contention.

When we rode up the other day, it was quite well measured, our own pace but today, well people had points to make, the speed ratcheted up to silly in no minutes flat. By the time we reached the top of the village again the first selection had been made, I wont lie, thirty kph up hill does not come easy, I was well pleased to still be with the 'big' boys when things eased off a little.

Tina wasn't quite so lucky but a quick look back on the long left hand approach to the first 'pin found her cream jersey sat amongst the next group maybe fifty metres behind. Obviously, during the week we've discussed how things might go, whether the right approach is a solo attack or a more conservative approach, against these senior men my chances of a solo attack working are small to non existent. A watching brief it is for now then.
 

The pace may have dropped after the initial surge but it was still the high end of the twenties, any ideas of this being a 'fun' event were left back in Vilaflors. I'm pretty sure that my continuing presence was a surprise to some of my companions but lets face it, I didn't get the right to wear the rainbow bands from riding at the back. It was only when I moved up a bit through the second hairpin that I realised that the English was also wearing a rainbow jersey, not as flash as mine, well I'm quite biased but I'm guessing that must mean he was the Masters champion the MC mentioned earlier. Like I said, you don't get to be a champ without putting it out there, kudos Mal.

Alberto, Senor Contador, was looking fairly comfortable, when he spotted me I got a short nod of recognition, I might only be a seventeen year old girl but heck, for now at least I'm mixing it with the big boys. Turn three, four and the longest straight of the day angled up through the trees, there seemed to be a loose collaboration driving our group, I think most of us made a showing at the pointy end even if we couldn't offer a great deal. There were a couple avoiding the front, I wasn't the only one keeping a watch on them.

The move, when it came, was therefore not that much of a surprise.

"Feck!”

There was a clash of gears changing as the Englishman's expletive gave warning to the two riders who'd been hiding trying to gain tarmac as we started the next drag, out of the trees and into the more open terrain up to the view point Vilaflor. The unwanted surge of effort took me pretty close to the red zone as I fought to stay in contact but I wasn't the only one. I might not have the physical strength but I do have something like twenty kilos weight advantage which was enough to level the playing field.

The attack fizzled before the viewpoint, there were casualties but a quick body count revealled we were still over twenty strong even if a few heads were starting to hang. I took a pull on my bidon, the already tepid liquid lubricating my throat as we started to climb through the ever more arid landscape. I had a lightbulb moment, maybe thats it, I recalled Monday's 'practice' run, yep, it might just work, its worth a shot at least.
 

There were quite a few spectators up here, pick the right spot and you would see the race approaching for quite a distance. But of course, the audience is much bigger than these few folk on the side of Mount Teide, a fact I was reminded of when the camera bike dropped back to the following group. The 'pretty girl' act isn't gonna work with Alberto and co but maybe I can still use it to some advantage.

My elements of a plan were slowly coming together, just as well, we are already over halfway through the climb. Given that most of the depleted peloton are in their early twenties, the English was doing really well, I'm guessing he's about Dad's age and I bet he's been racing bikes a long time. Yeah, he rides like a pro, confident, no panic, a shorter, less wiry version of Alberto whose wheel he's hardly left all day.

Over the next couple of kilometres, the grade hovers between five and seven percent, you are constantly working, its the sort of effort you might expect on a solo time trial except today we are in a group. There were a couple more short lived escape attempts but it wasn't steep enough to snap the elastic nor was it easy enough to get a good acceleration. From my point of view it was useful to see who would chase and how they were afterwards, I just played along.

The TV bike was back by now, the viewing public want to see the head of the race not the fall out, I made a point of smiling at the camera and even gave a little wave at one instance. I might not win today but Apollinaris will get some good TV time! We were fast approaching the final assault, I wasn't the only one contemplating making a move, Senor Contador was starting to look a bit antsy.

Well I guess its decision time, stay here and hope for a result in the inevitable sprint or throw my chances to the mountain in a do or die escape attempt. I took another glug from my bottle and was just returning it to the cage when the English took a flier. It was unexpected on my part, I thought he'd stay marking Alberto but maybe he had similar thoughts to me.

His experience was evident, a big effort then quickly into TT mode, all or nothing. I wasn't the only one caught out, Alberto took a few seconds to react, I tagged third wheel behind him as he heaved his lanky frame up the tarmac. It was enough to explode the peloton, from over twenty we were down to just five in a matter of a hundred metres. The TV bike had missed the initial move too, only realising something was afoot when Alberto gave chase.

Mal was still pumping away at the pedals but will he be able to keep it up on the final, steeper drag to the line. The TV bike was still watching Contador, my turn to make an effort then. I slipped off third wheel and put down just enough extra to pull up to the Spaniards blind side, giving a little wave to the camera before hitting the turbo.

My ploy worked, the motorbike pulled ahead providing a bit of pacing as it did so, the gap to the Englishman closed quite rapidly, I caught him as we passed the kilo to go inflatable.

"Feck'n 'ell!”

 
Maddy Bell © 24.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
I didn't hang around to exchange pleasantries, if i've timed this right my fifty kilos trumps Alberto's seventy five on the incline, but I need a chunk of clear tarmac. The motorbike was gonna be my friend now, not in pacing exactly but if someone was coming up i'd get some warning as they'd change focus. My heart was going nineteen to the dozen, I gulped a few deep breaths to calm myself a bit, this might just work.

Getting 'aero' up hill doesn't really work, you need different techniques to capitalise on your effort, selecting the right gear foremost. That can be quite counter intuitive, too low and whilst it might feel easier you end up wasting energy over revving and actually go slower. Too high and you'll be all over the bike trying to turn over the pedals, again not very efficient, the art is to find the biggest gear you can keep on top of, ie not struggle pedaling.

I spared a look under my arm to confirm my gearing, the chain was sat mid way across the ten sprockets coming off the small chainring at the front. Hmm, less than a thousand metres to go, lets give it all i've got, girl you rock the cycling world all round, yeah! I dabbed the changer with my thumb, the Super Record gears silently changed the ratio by a few gear inches, my effort increasing by a few watts to compensate.

Of course its taken you longer to read all this than for me to do it, I focused on the TV bike, the smooth tarmac stretching away in a continuous ribbon ahead, and pushed harder. My computer had been hovering around twenty five kph, now it climbed closer to thirty and I found myself snicking into the next gear to keep the cadence even. Keep it going Bond.

'Up, up, up!'
'Snell, snell!'
'Keep it going Gab!'

By now, this close to the line, there were quite a few spectators including, apparently, members of Team Apollinaris. No time to waste looking for them, but people shouting your name is always a boost, I readjusted my position on the saddle a little and kept pushing.
 

"What's happening?” Jen asked her hubby.
"There's three riders away then a small bunch,” he advised keeping his eyes glued to the binoculars.
"Tina, Gaby?”
"Can't say for sure, there's a few light jerseys, shoulda brought the proper bins, these are a bit useless.”

Whilst the pocket binoculars weren't great and he couldn't say for sure, it did look like his daughter was leading things below, the small figure all in white was perhaps twenty metres in front of two larger riders who in turn had about fifty metres on the peloton. He kept it to himself for now, not wanting to jinx things.
 

'Gab-ee, Gab-ee, Gab-ee!”

I inwardly smiled as Daz and Mand ran alongside shouting my name for a few metres, come on Gab, not far now. Sweat dripped down my face, I had to make a quick wipe to dislodge an annoying drop collecting off my nose, distraction I could do without. It seemed to have taken an age from the kilo arch but there ahead was the five hundred to go board.

My thighs were burning, is that a twinge of cramp, not now, ride through it woman!

Four hundred metres and suddenly it was over, cramp gripped my left calf and foot and I had to ease off slightly, before I knew it, the English and Alberto were past me. I looked behind to find the remains of the peloton still a way behind, can I salvage third? Well I'll give it all i've got.
 

"Your daughter is in third,” Dave called down from his vantage point.

Dave had watched as his daughter, it was definitely her, had hesitated before being overhauled by those behind, was it tactics or did she have a problem?

"Come on kiddo!” Jen muttered, "You can do it.”
 

The cramp eased enough to keep pedaling but the gap to the new leaders was already ten metres and going the wrong way. I pushed the paddle for a bigger sprocket and stood to keep on top of the new gearing and not lose any more ground. Somehow I forced myself forward and reversed the deficit a little, the old man and young star still giving it full gas, this'll be a drag race to the line, the strongest will emerge the victor.

I grabbed my bidon and squirted the remaining contents towards my face, momentarily refreshed I took a deeper breath and hit the emergency reserve tank. Well you know what I mean, that last bit of energy, the extra ten percent that's do or die, click, back up a gear and heave the pedals round.
 

'Bu boom, bu boom,' the blood was pounding in my ears as I drew in a succession of super deep breaths, my head hanging between my knees. I'm not sure of exactly how I got to be sitting on the roadside a few metres beyond the finish line, the last couple of minutes have been a blur of bikes, sirens, bodies, shouting, whistles. 'Bu boom, bu boom.'

"Gaby, speak to me.”

I was vaguely aware of someone kneeling next to me and gently rubbing my back.

"Come on Gab, deep breaths.”

My slight head movement seemed to satisfy whoever it was, there was a release of pressure on my head as my helmet was removed, replaced with something cool and damp. There was activity all around us but there was space too. 'Bu boom......bu boom', my racing heart slowed and my befuddled state became more coherant.

"Where is she? Where is she?”

I looked up just as Mum pushed her way through the cordon of, I dunno, officials? Fans?

"Easy Jen, she's alright, just a bit winded,” Petra's voice advised.
"Mum?”
"You'll be the death of me Gabrielle Bond,” she stated as she assisted Pet in returning me to the vertical.
"Ah!”
"What's up, you hurt?”
"Cramp, left,” I gasped out.
Pet was down on the ground again, "Can you put weight on it? Jen, there's a bottle in my bag.”
 

The presentations were going to be back down in Vilaflor at about three o'clock, which is how I found myself descending the TF21, that instrument of torture, amidst a tide of spectators and competitors in the company of a phalanx of cream and blue jerseys. Whilst this downhill peloton chatted and exchanged greetings, I was content just to turn the pedals.

"You're quiet hen,” Josh observed.
I shrugged, "Tired.”
"Banana?”he offered.
"Sure.”

He fished the fruit from his pocket and passed it over.

"Cheers.”
"So who was the other chap like?”
"Mal something, he's English, you remember at Manchester we had that Keith Lambert guy do a session?”
"Wasn't there rememba,” he pointed out.

Course he wasn't, he didn't join us till later.

"Well anyway Keith's his manager, they're parked next to us at the bottom.”
"Think ma uncle might know him, name rings a bell.”
"He was a pro years ago I think, Joe probably raced against him,” I suggested.
"Aye, mebe.”
 

It was something of a party atmosphere back in Vilaflor, whilst the Challenge was the focus of things, it provides a more casual focus for the thousands of visitors on the island, like us, for training 'blocks'. It was no surprise then to find the place packed with riders drinking coffee, eating paella from the catering tent and just socialising as bikies do. It was a regular League of Nations, club riders chatting with elite pros, young with old, Brits, Dutch, German, Spanish – well pretty much all of Europe was represented.

When we reached the team bus I found myself engulfed by George who had stayed in the village to watch the Eurosport coverage.

"Urgh.”
"Well done Gaby, I think nobody will forget you after today!”
"Ung.”
"But I should let you get changed.”
"Come on Wonderwoman,” Tina suggested as she rescued me from the Boss, "We can use the showers at the school, i've got your bag.”
“'kay.”

I quickly slipped my shoes off and hung my lid off my handlebars as we set off to get cleaned up.
 

"So, in third place, the two thousand six UCI Masters World Champion, riding for Pinarello Racing Team, Malcolm Elliott!”

The Englishman climbed onto the stage grinning and waving, a lot of the crowd clearly knew who he was and cheered loudly as he received his trophy.

The MC returned with a squeal over the PA, "In second place, riding for Discovery Channel, Alberto Contador!”

The lanky Spaniard joined Mr Elliott on the staging to an equally loud reception, I guess he's sort of the local boy which always goes down well.

"And so to our victor today in a close fought finale, the current UCI Junior Womens World Champion, riding for Team Apollinaris, Gabrielle Bond!”

Yep, thats me. Those final metres really were agony, Alberto and Malcolm were matching each other pedal stroke for pedal stroke but the distraction of racing each other allowed me to get back up to them, then having switched across the road to get a clear run I just kept going. Officially it was a tyre to Alberto, Malcolm at a length having faded over the last few metres, well he is an old man.

I straightened my jersey before stepping up to receive my own plaudits.
 

"We've never been properly introduced lass, Malcolm Elliot, Mal to my friends,” the Englishman, no, Yorkshireman by the accent, offered his hand.
"Gaby er Bond,” I returned shaking the offered hand after putting the empty paella plate in the trash.

It was the first time i'd really looked at him, he might be past his first flush but he still had boyish good looks and a wide grin under a thatch of blonde hair, I guess you'd call him handsome in a sort of down to earth, Yorkshire way.

"Keith says your English?”
"Its kind of complicated, my passport says I'm German but I come from near Worksop?”
"Worksop? Well I never, I'm from Sheffield, so you ride in the Peaks then?”
"Not much, mostly Ollerton and Retford before we moved to Germany.”
"Of course, makes sense now as why we haven't met before, excellent ride by the way, I thought i'd got the Spaniard until you came up.”
"Sorry.”
"Don't be sorry lass, that were some canny riding there, sort of thing i'd've done at your age, have to rely on experience these days, getting a bit long int' tooth to mix it wi' youth. Any 'ow, thought i'd say hi, oh and thank your spanner man fer't chainring eh.”
"Sure.”
"Well ah best be ont' way, Keith's wanting to get back t' 'otel, somethin' about getting' outside a few beers. What is it you Germans say? Aye, weedersayn Gaby Bond.”
"Er yeah, wiedersehn, enjoy your beer.”
“'appen we will.”
 

"There you are.”
"Here I am,” I confirmed as I juggled a second plate of paella, a plastic fork and a bottle of orange pop.
"You do know George is springing for dinner tonight,” Kat mentioned.
"And?”
She gave a sigh, "You really do have hollow legs. So, was that the English you were talking to before?”
"Amongst others.”

Indeed, quite a lot of people seemed keen to meet me this afternoon, one reason I was taking refuge in the Paella bar again. I've posed for pictures, signed autographs, been congratulated and hand shaken for like ever.

"Quite a hunk eh?”
"If you like dating old men.”
"Oh come on Gab, he's not that old.”
I gave a shiver of mock revulsion, "It'd be like dating your dad. So what do you want me for?”
"We'll be heading back to Puerto once i've rounded everyone up.”
"I got time to finish this? Wouldn't want it going to waste.”
"As your dietitian I should say no but you'll ignore me anyhow, ten minutes at the bus.”
"Ja mein Obermeisterin.”
"Hmph, you seen any of the others?”
"Daz and Josh were outside a few minutes ago.”
 

The return trip to Puerto de la Cruz and the hotel was a bit livelier than the outward journey, for starters the bus was full and secondly everyone wanted to hear about the race, not just from my perspective but from Tina's too. I might have sealed the victory but Tina made a good showing too finishing just outside the twenty in a small group two minutes down. Yeah, I was more than happy to let her have bragging time.
 

"Remind me why I'm dressed like an air hostess,” I requested as I tugged my team frock down to cover my tan lines.
"Some silly moo only went and won a race so we have to go celebrate at a fancy restaurant,” Mand replied, slipping her shoes on.
"And I thought the only consequence of winning was cleaning the silverware.”
"And to the losers, the spoils,” Mand misquoted, "No win, no clean!”
"Or daft frocks.”
"You ready whine a lot?”
I sighed, "I guess, come on, can't keep the steaks waiting.”

Rather than take the buses to the restaurant which meant no drinking for Dad and A N Other, the hotel sorted us out with a mini fleet of minibuses to take us the couple of miles to 'El Torro de la Cruz', a country restaurant with a traditional Spanish menu, not a pizza or bowl of pasta to be seen. By the fact we were the only patrons I'm pretty sure this was no last minute thing, we'd have come tonight win or lose out on Mount Teide. Its always better to be celebrating though and my success earnt everyone a glass of cheap Champagne-a-like.

"Okay daughter?” Mum enquired as we raided the salad bar.
"I guess,” I allowed.
"You got some good scalps out there today.”
"And some old ones, that Elliott bloke is ancient.”
"Malcolm? He's not that old, quite prolific in his time.”
"Yeah?”
"He won the Milk Race a couple of times, did the Tour, some National titles, all the British classics, drove a Porsche if I remember right, I think he rode for some Spanish teams later on.”
"Well i've not heard of him.”
"Think he's having a comeback, still looks a bit of alright don't you think, a few of the girls fancied him rotten.”
"Mu-um!”
"Just saying,” and with that she nicked one of the cherry tomatoes off of my plate.
"Hey!”

I dunno why George insisted we wear the uniform dresses, its not like anyone else was at the restaurant. How we're dressed doesn't affect the food though, or the eating thereof, I, as predicted, chose steak served with Patatas Bravas and a side of green beans and tomatoes. The meat was a bit over done for me, but it was eatable, nothing went to waste and the ice cream dessert finished things nicely.

'Ching, ching!'

The sound of our leader tapping a glass caught our attention and we quieted to hear his words of wisdom.

"Ladies, gentlemen, first a toast to our Wunderkind for another famous victory, i've spoken with the sponsors earlier, they are over the moon, so I give you, Gaby Bond.”
"Gaby!”

Talk about embarrassing, everyone raising glasses in my honour.

"So to more mundane things, tomorrow ready at the front for eight thirty please, we should be back mid afternoon so you'll have free time in the afternoon. We'll have a longer day on Saturday, we'll be meeting up with a couple of other groups for a decent workout. Questions?”
"We eating at the hotel tomorrow?” Erika asked.
"Indeed we are, back to healthy eating eh Kat?”
"Don't want to end up with fat bottomed girls Boss,” Pinger replied with a chuckle, cheeky cow!

"Beach?” Gret suggested, the subject being what to do with a free afternoon.
"Think i've had enough sun this week,” Mand mentioned.
"What do you suggest then?” Tali asked.
"Cinema?” I offered, "They'll have air conditioning.”
"Over in that shopping centre?” Daz queried.
"Works for me man,” Josh confirmed.
"That’s that sorted,” Mand stated, "So tonight, cards?”

Our taxi pulled up outside the hotel, George had already sorted payment so we all spilled out of the people carrier. I'm not the greatest at cards but its sort of become the default entertainment in the evenings when we are away. I can always text Max and the girls back home if I get bored.

 
Maddy Bell © 25.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Gaby!”
"What?” I queried as I finished readjusting by BH.
"I give up, "Mand sighed with a shake of her head, "There's no hope.”
"What did I do?” damn this bra's uncomfortable today.
"Josh? Darren?” she hinted with a nod to her side.
"Eh?” I looked over to see the lads who quickly diverted their gaze, sugar.

I know, i've had the lecture from Mum and Dad, I have got better with this stuff, honest.

"They must've got a right eyeful, doesn't it bother you?”

Does it? Well on one level it does, I mean what are they even looking at me for? On the other hand, hmm, maybe there isn't another hand.

"They shouldn't be looking.”
"A very philosophical point of view, Gab, they're boys, of course they're gonna look.”

She had me there.

"People!” Dad yelled from where he'd been talking with George at the other end of the pull in.
Looks like we gotta ride again, oh the high cost of a week in Tenerife!
 

It was only just turned two when we got back to the Hotel, we didn't ride very far, or very long to be truthful, it was all technique stuff. You can end up doing lots of speed and endurance work but if you don't work on the basics, well everyone in the race can go the distance, most will have the speed covered, success then is down to being better at the other stuff – oh and a good helping of luck.

"So where are you lot off to?” Mum enquired, we'd changed and then cleared Kat's 'healthy' lunch in minutes flat, most of the 'adults' were still picking at their food.
"Cinema is the plan.”
"Down in the old town?”
"Ut uh, at the shopping mall.”
"That place over the other side of the motorway?”
"Yeah, Centro Villa or something, we got a taxibus last time.”
"Sounds like you've got it all organised, Dave?” she called to my father, "You fancy the cinema?”
"Mu-um.”
"Could do,” Dad allowed, "Whats on?”
"All sorts,” I allowed with a sigh, "Its a multiplex. Seriously, you want to go to the cinema with a bunch of teenagers?”
"Not particularly, don't worry I wasn't looking to cramp your style daughter.”
"Phew.”
"How about your Dad runs you lot down?”
"That'd work I guess.”
"Then we may or may not see you down there later,” Mum concluded.
"Done!”

And so it came to pass that fifteen minutes later Dad dropped the eight of us off at the entrance to the Centro Comercial La Villa.
 

"Bum!” Mand announced, "We missed the English showings Tuesday.”
"Pity,” Daz stated, "I quite fancied seeing Bond.”
"You've seen me all week,” I pointed out.
"Not you hen, he means the film, starts in twenty minutes,” Josh advised.
"With that dishy new actor?” Mand queried.
"Didn't think you were interested?”
"I can look at Bond Bond,” I was informed.
"We could still watch it,” Gret siggested, "Its all chases and fights anyway.”
"Aye,” Josh agreed, "Bond is hardly Shakespeare.”
"To be or not to be, that is the question,” I quoted.
"Bond!” they all chorused.
"Thatch me, Bond, Gabrielle Bond, licensed to win!” I hammed.
"That,” Daz stated, ”has to be the worst Bond impression ever.”
"So we going to see this movie then?” Roni asked, "Coz if we are we need tickets.”
"Its either that or that Hannibal thing unless you want to wait,” Kat told us.
"Bond!” everyone agreed.
 

It didn't take long to get tickets, getting the requisite supplies took much longer, Kat gave me a dirty look when we reconvened to go in holding a 'Genuine Westlers' hotdog with all the trimmings. Look, I ate her salad thing for lunch, you have to have a balanced diet right? I suppose the afternoon showing was a bit early for the locals, most of the other patrons looked like island visitors – not that it was exactly packed, we found a block of seats up towards the rear and settled down.

Who doesn't like a Bond film, even if they are formulaic and sometimes a bit sexist, but like Mum says, they were of their time. Casino Royale's Bond, Daniel Craig is more stripped back than the playboy image Moore and Brosnan versions and from the start I was hooked. Okay, the plot does have a lot of poker being played, not really my suit, but the new M and the chase scenes balanced that out. Even better, we actually got the English version but with Spanish subtitles, German woulda been better but at least everyone in our posse could follow things.
 

The time flew by, oh it got a bit slow in places but it certainly didn't feel like the thick end of two hours had passed when the titles started to roll.

"Urgh!” I allowed, stretching my arms to release the tension from being sat so long.
"I'm hungry,” Mand complained.
"That car was pretty boss,” Darren suggested.
"Gott, men and cars,” Roni complained as we started to shuffle towards the exit.
"Why does he always have that weird make,” Gret asked, "He could have a nice Porsche.”
"Guess its a British thing, British spy, British car,” I proposed.
"He is a bit of a hunk eh?” Kat suggested.
"I hadn't noticed.”
"Oh come on Gab, all those muscles, that face, he could almost be German!” Tal teased.
"Ah am here,” Josh mentioned.
"And you are very handsome too,” she purred.
"Get a room you two,” Gret complained as our team mates started on some tonsil hockey.

"So what now?” Ron enquired as we reconvened after the obligatory toilet stop.
"Food?” Mand hinted.
"We've got dinner when we get back,” Kat pointed out.
I checked my wrist watch, "Thats like hours away.”
"Burgers?” Josh suggested.

I think its fair to say that the look our dietician gave us was one of unqualified horror.

"Maybe something less, um, processed?” I offered.
"There was a Churro stand outside,” Gret mentioned.
"Whats that?” Daz asked.
"You know, those long doughnutty things,” Mand espoused.
"Someone mention doughnuts?” our tame Toon enquired.
"Guess it'll have to do,” de Vreen sighed.
"We can look in the other shops before we head back,” Ron proposed, somewhat out of character.

Well it sounded like a sort of plan.
 

We found out why shopaphobe Roni had suddenly gained an interest in retail therapy opportunities when we reached the Levi® store – she wanted a new pair of jeans.

"I'll meet you outside,” she offered.
"By the Churros, its only over the roadway,” Gret pronounced.
“'kay,” Ron agreed.
"I'll stay with Ron.”
"Don't be too long,” Mand grinned, "Or they'll all be gone.”

Like thats gonna happen.

"You didn't have to stay Gab.”
"What, and let you get some horrible straight legs or something? you aren't exactly a style guru Ron.”
"And you are?”
"Well I do know whats in fashion.”
"If you say so, come on.”
 

You know what its like, you go looking for one thing and you end up with something completely different, well I hadn't actually gone in with any intentions of buying anything but Ron wasn't the only one with a Levi® carrier bag when we left.

"So where's this Churro stand?” my companion asked as we stood blinking in the bright sunshine after leaving the mall.
"Gret said its just over the road.”
"All I can see is some sort of Kirmes.”

Which was pretty much all I could see, oh not big rides or anything, a carousel and a couple of other kiddy 'rides', they sometimes have something similar during school vacations in Koblenz and Bonn. However, whilst I couldn't see it I could smell food, not just Churros but something else altogether more interesting.

"Come on, they must be over there somewhere,” I instructed.
"Gaby!” Ron complained as I strode out onto the crossing to a chorus of car horns.
 

Two minutes later and there it was, the source of the interesting smells.

"A würst stall?” Ron observed.
"Looks like it to me,” I agreed.

Well, if your idea of such an outlet is a timber framed cabin that would be quite at home at a Weihnachtsmarkt in Bavaria complete with twee pretzels and cut outs of lederhosen and dirndl wearing blondes either side of the servery this was it. Why foreigners think we are all blonde and dress like Heidi I don't know, well I suppose I am blonde but I'm not exactly German either and I suppose I do wear Kostum sometimes. Oh well, I guess in this case they can be forgiven though, the smells were delish, and even if the staff didn't fit the picture, the würst and indeed frikadel and pommes certainly did.

"I thought we were getting Churros?”
"If you want Churros be my guest, me, I'm having Bratwürst and pommes.”
"Damn you Bond, here hold this, want anything to drink?”
 

"Told you,” Tali crowed.
"Told them what?” I enquired before getting outside of another bite of my sausage.
"That you'd spot the Deutsche Kiosk,” Kat sighed, "Pommes?”

I swung the arm dangling my Levi® carrier toward her, replete with a cone of fried potato, mayo and paprika sauce.

"Want one?”

Josh nearly choked on his Churro.

"Gaby,” Pinger admonished, "Your'e supposed to be eating healthily.”
I swallowed my meat, "Ron's got Frikadel.”
"I couldn't let her eat alone,” Ron smirked.
"I give up!” Kat stated with an even deeper sigh, here let me at those frites.”
I think there would've been a full on mutiny if the others hadn't already got a supply of Spanish doughnuts in.

"I thought it was Ron who wanted jeans,” Mand mentioned as we sat with our food around the base of a palm tree.
"She got some,” I pointed out.
"And whats in this then?” Mand nudged the carrier sat between us.
"They were on sale.”
"Whatever.”
"They were.”
"I thought you had enough denim?”
"Erm.”
"Show her Gab,” Ron interjected from beyond de Vreen, "They are pretty cute, if you can carry that look off, me i'd look like a hippo.”

Well I wouldn't have said a hippo but she is a lot bigger built than me.

"Lets see then,” Tal demanded.
"Okay already,” I passed the remains of my sausage to Kat, wiped my hands and dove into the carrier.

 
"Sexy!” Gret suggested as I held up my new hose.
"And the jacket Gab,” Ron prompted.

Thank you Fraulein Grönberg. Look I got them both at half price and they match. Double denim, well not in the Status Quo rocker sense as such, they are denim but its white and printed with a pink and red flower motif. And they aren't exactly jeans, more capri's and the jacket is cropped too so not double denim at all. Really.

"Damn,” Mand allowed.
"Damn indeed,” Tal agreed.
"Can I finish my würst now?”
"Würst? You have würst?” Kat sheepishly mentioned.
"Kat, where is it?”

To be fair, she did look slightly guilty, maybe it was the hint of mustard at the corner of her mouth.

"I thought you'd finished with it so I, er finished the job.”
"I suppose i've still got some pommes left.”
"Sorry Gab,” Daz told me, "They were going cold.”
"Look on the brightside Gab,” Ron started, "You'll have more space for Kat's rabbit food when we get back.”
"And that is good because?”

So much for my anti health food foray.

 
There were more stores around the plaza that the mini Kirmes was on, a mix of everything from furniture to budget clothing, toys to food, not really of much interest to us. There was a small tent market, no not a market selling camping equipment, maybe a dozen stalls selling slightly more interesting stuff, jewellery, 'alternative' footwear – well you know the sort of stuff, you don't need any of it but some of it is nice to have.

"Scusie, tienes estos en tamaño treinta y cuatro por favor?”

Okay I'll admit my Spanish is a bit mangled but the stall holder seemed to understand.

"Sí, i 'll traerlos de la tienda para usted .”

Which I think means yes, why do the Spanish have to talk so damned fast all the time? Anyhow, she scurried off and into what I'm guessing is some sort of storage.

"What are you after now?” Ron asked over my shoulder.
I held up the footwear I had my eye on, "She's just gone to get my size for me to try.”
"They're a bit, er pointy.”

Which indeed they are, ankle boots, very pointy, very black, lots of buckles, ten centimetre stiletto heel and perfect for Erdbeere on stage.

"Think rock chick.”
"Oh these are for your tour thingy.”
"Well its okay borrowing Jules clompers but they're a couple of sizes too big and not really my style.”
"And these are?”

I didn't get to answer as the vendor returned and started opening a box, "Tamaño treinta y cuatro, el talón es un poco más alto creo.”
"Er si.”
"Sentarse, probarlos por favor,” she motioned to a bench affair at the end of her stall, guess its time to try them on.

Well its not like i've never worn heels before is it? Once i'd worked out that there was actually a zip to get in and out with, and borrowed some footies, I stood up. They felt way higher than ten centimetre, not uncomfortable just different, I mean, i've been wearing trainers, cycling shoes and flats most of the last few weeks, anything with a heel will feel odd.

"Estan bien intenta caminar por la alfombra, mira cómo se sienten,” she instructed with a bit of hand waving.

I tottered along the short strip of carpet, not bad, its not like I move much on stage is it?

"They don't really go with your shorts Gab,” Gret observed.
"I wasn't planning on wearing them together.”
"I think you need a licence,” Kat grinned.
"For what?”
"For those boots, they are sex-ee Bond.”
"That is sort of the idea, take the audiences mind off my terrible singing.”
"Bueno?”
"Er si. hay algun descuento?” I think I got that right.
She looked at me, shook her head a bit, "Cuarenta euros?”
"Hecho!”

Well ten euros off is quite good, you don't get if you don't ask.
 
I hadn't intended spending much more than the cinema ticket price when Dad dropped us off but I'm skint now, well i've used most of the euros I had left, I got the denim on my card, thankfully they took EC. At least I can claim for the boots as Tour expenses.

"We should get back,” Kat suggested, "Or George will have a hairy.”
"Aye, wouldna want ta upset the Boss like,” Josh stated.
"Lets go find a taxibus then,” I suggested hefting my bags.
"So what culinary delight have we got tonight?” Mand quested as we headed towards the taxi rank.
"Tapas with a twist.”
"Really?”Tal groaned, "Weird stuff and not enough of any of it.”
"You'll see,” Pinger smirked, "You'll see.”

 
Maddy Bell © 28.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
At least there was no dress code tonight which is just as well as we were running things a bit tight by the time we got back to the Hotel las Águilas, after having to wait nearly fifteen minutes for a taxibus. I guess we could've just got two cars but we're not made of money you know. Anyhow, we had long enough to dump our shopping, get cleaned up, I did swap my cami and shorts for a sun dress, just because we don't have to dress up doesn't mean we have to look like slobs.

"Enjoy the film?” Mum asked when I joined the olds table.

I'm not sure if it was intentional but the usual junior/senior separation wasn't happening, the Rents, Tina and Erika had space so I found myself sharing the extra chairs with Daz.

"It was okay.”
"Just okay?” Dad queried.
"There were some good fights Mr Bond,” Daz supplied.

I couldn't help myself, I started to titter.

"Whats so funny Gab,” Erika asked.
"Er nothing.”
"So what did you see?” Tina enquired.
"The new Bond film,” Daz advised, "Ah, got it now Gab, Mr Bond.”

I used to get some ribbing about being Bond back in Warsop but nowhere near as much as Jules did, yeah, J Bond, why don't parents think more when they give out names? There actually was a Theresa Green and a Richard Head at Warsop College too, I mean, thats just cruel.

"So what did you guys see?” I asked Mum, we hadn't seen them but that doesn't mean much.
"We went down but Anita spotted a bowling alley so we went there instead.”
"Bowling, that woulda been cool,” Daz opined.

It would, I can't remember the last time I did that, theres an alley in Bonn but i've never been, might suggest it to the Angels.
 

My previous experience of Tapas was at the Vuelta Catalunya last summer, you remember, right after the doping episode. That was at a restaurant, nice though it was, it tended to a bit oily and like Tali said earlier, there wasn't really enough of anything. Dunno what the hotel chefs thought of Kat's menu but her version was like a homemade burger compared to a Big Mac™.

For the uninitiated, Tapas is essentially a selection of small servings of main courses, you usually have three or four each which is great for trying different stuff but a bit frustrating if you like something. Kat's version was definitely lower on the oil content and instead of individual plates, each table had tureens of the various components on a self serve basis. It was of course made up of the usual suspects, paella, patatas bravas, tortilla, fritters, salad, croquettes and assorted seafood.

My opinion of Kat's skills as team dietitian went up a notch as the dishes were delivered by the wait staff. We didn't have plates yet so we sat, mouths watering surveying the food.

"Told you it was Tapas with a twist Gab,” Kat smirked coming over to our table.
"So what've we got Kat?” Erika asked.
"You recognise some I'm sure, the croquettes are with goat cheese and pepper, prawns with garlic and chilli, anchovie salad, I think Hering fritters, there is something with ham too. Ah here are your plates, enjoy.”
"Thanks Kat,” Dad mentioned before Pinger moved on to the next table.
"Well I don't know about you lot,” Mum started, "But I think Kat's excelled this time.”
"Proof is in the eating,” Tina noted.

With the newly arrived plates there was nothing to delay distribution, for several minutes the table was a sea of spoons, dishes, plates and food as we each added stuff to our preference. Whilst it was tempting to load up with what you know I went for the 'try everything' approach, Tapas stylee but all on one plate. There was a good balance of tastes, nothing overwhelming and even if I'm not a big fish eater, I enjoyed it all.

There was certainly plenty available, people dipping in for more of their favourites emptied some dishes faster than others but everyone had their fill. The follow on sorbet didn't need to be much to do its job, there were smiles all round as the tables were cleared, you wouldn't want it every day but if this is healthy food, well maybe a few less pommes wouldn't be so bad.
 

I cracked an eye to see the time, seven o'clock, urgh. Its our last riding day, tomorrow we variously catch planes or ferries to return to our normal lives. Daz'll go back to England until the race season starts, I'll be back in college Monday, the seniors have some racing around the Med, yup back to normal. Seven o'clock, guess i'd best shake a leg, don't want to be late for breakfast.

Half an hour later and I wasn't the first, or the last down for breakfast, beyond the air conditioned interior the morning was already warming, the Atlantic, just a kilometre or so away, already reflecting the almost cloud free azure sky.

"So what's the crack with this ride today hen?” Josh's query, breaking my musing.
"Eh? Oh morning J, er dunno, something about a big group ride?”
"Aye that's what Bossman said, thought you might have the inside from your dad.”
"As if, I find stuff out on a need to know basis.”
"And ye don't need to know,” the Toon finished for me. "Oh well, it can't be as bad as all those reps yesterday.”
"Tell me about it,” I agreed.

Yeah, they might be a useful training aid but they really suck, like big style.
 

"Listen up people,” Dad called across the gathered masses, "Few pointers on todays ride. Number one, it is not a race, I know there will be some riders out there who think it is, try not to get dragged into any petty rivalries, its meant to be a relaxing fun ride to round out everyones week. Remember we are on public roads so be aware of other traffic, the authorities might be quite pro bike but they don't take kindly to mickey takers.
Mike and myself will act as service, the girls will go with George along to Hildago Point where we'll have a short break before the return. I think there will be one or two other teams with a similar arrangement. There will be a number of private riders joining in, don't assume everyone else has your level of competence.

We leave at fifteen to nine, questions?”
"How far is it?” Tali requested.
"About a hundred K Tali, anyone else?” no one spoke up, well the briefing was fairly informative, Dad went into his conclusion, "Okay, Pet wanted me to remind you about sunscreen, the wind can be quite cutting along the coast, she'll have some at lunch but get some on this morning eh. Right, we'll see you at the bikes in,” he checked his watch, "Thirty minutes.”

 
We rolled down into Puerto de la Cruz, a tight formation of shiny bikes and pretty faces, well apart from the lads! It might be informal but clearly it was no secret, we reached the gathering point at the lighthouse car park to find something like a hundred other cyclist already there. Like Dad said, it was a wide spectrum, club and team groups, some rather keen looking individuals, others who looked like they'd struggle to get much beyond the town.

Dad came over to where our lot were gathered ready for the off.

"Be careful out there and enjoy yourselves.”

He scurried back to the bus, Mum calling for our attention instead.

"Guys, I think if we try to stick together it'll help control things along the road, at least until we stop, yeah?”
"Sounds good Jen,” Anita agreed.
"Looks like there's some movement, time to rock an' roll ladies.”

A few riders were already moving away before the start was sounded by, I'm guessing the lighthouse foghorn, it was flippin' loud anyway. The excited murmur of the assembled riders was quickly replaced by the familiar clicking of cleats into pedals, admonishments of others abilities or otherwise and a gentle surge out onto the road. Team Apollinaris were quickly organised into a double line of cream, blue and rainbow striped jerseys sailing along amidst the morass of bikes.

The first couple of kilometres were always going to be a bit chaotic as we threaded our way around the town centre and out onto the main TF-31 road. The speed was quite high, clearly some riders hadn't taken the note on it not being a race, the effect though was a bringing of some order as a fast moving train is no place to get isolated. A few riders made herculean efforts to move up the order, as many slipped back the other way.

It was never going to all hold together, this mega chaingang, by the time we passed under the motorway there were two distinct groups separated by maybe a hundred metres. We joined TF-217 and I started to recognise stuff from last week, a house there, a parked truck on a forecourt. Things settled down and we found ourselves part of a rotation of at least fifty, sixty riders knocking along at the stiff end of forty K.

We weren't of course, the only team present although we were certainly the biggest single entity. I might only be small but I still took my turn at the front but with such a large group it was almost through and straight off, two forward lines in the middle, a trickle sliding back down each flank. The road was certainly wide enough to accommodate this – at least for now and everyone seemed happy enough with the arrangement.

It might be the old coast road that we were following but it doesn't exactly follow the coast, nor is it particularly flat, it meanders about quite a bit. Its only after Puntillo where we recrossed the autobahn that we started to follow the coast more closely, albeit on smaller roads. There were a few dodgy moments through the villages, the result was some disruption to the steady chain, after the third such log jam, we went from two up, two down to just a single line rotation.

Of course, this had the effect of stretching the line somewhat while increasing the time between rotations. For our lot it also meant that instead of a block of twelve we had become two groups of six seperated by about twenty bikes. Not that it matters of course, its not like we had to be together.

Up to Tejina we were still following the route that we used last weekend but instead of turning east towards the airport we continued north. According to the signpost, Punta del Hidalgo was only six kilometres away, the speed of the big group really had reduced our ride time north. The road was much nearer to the Atlantic now and hedged to our right by the sharp defiles of the northern mountains.

I guessed we must be close to the turn cum stop when more than a few bikes started to pass in the other direction. We haven't come far when all is said and done but we have been going fairly hard – so much for an easy day! Through Hidalgo town and then a chaotic scene as riders started peeling off into the car park whilst others, clearly wanted to head straight back.
 

"Well that got a bit intense at times,” Mand suggested as Team Apollinaris congregated around George's bimmer.
"Good fun though,” Erika opined.

Pet and Kat dodged about distributing fresh bidons, fruit and hmm, peanut butter sandwiches.

"How long we got?” Tina enquired.
"Ten minutes maybe,” Petra suggested.

No time for sightseeing then, mind you we could see the jagged coast from where we were. I'd guess that less than half the mass of bikes that left Puerto de la Cruz had stopped and some of those set off again after no more than a couple of minutes.

"So,” George addressed us, "That was the easy part. The return is time to earn your dinner. Myself and a couple of the other managers, we have a little wager, they think that they can have all their riders back at the lighthouse before any of you. Maybe they are confident that their Herren are better than you despite young Gaby's efforts on Mount Teide, I think we can prove them wrong eh?”
"What's the catch George?” Mum interjected.
"Catch Jenny, no catch, if we can get even one rider back before their last, they pay for dinner tonight, otherwise I'm paying for the beer.”
"So come on, who are we up against?” Tina pursued.
"Hmm, they are mens professionals, some may be Elite.”
"Geez George, we might be ranking in the Womens teams but we've got youngsters here, its hardly a level playing field,” Mum pointed out.
"Hence the terms, we only need one rider ahead but they must have all.”
"Still a tall order,” Anja noted.
"Oh, and remember, it is not a race, we don't want to upset the authorities,” George concluded.

Ten women, two lads against, well looking about I couldn't say for sure, there were riders in several pro team strips that I recognised, more in strip I didn't and just which ones are in on this, George didn't say. Someone tooted a horn.

"Time people,” George told us.
 
"Plan?” Erika asked as we remounted.
Mum shrugged, "Hang on for as long as we can I guess, if you get dropped don't worry too much, I'm sure we won't be the only ones they put under duress, not all these guys are in the 'not race'.”

As plans go it wasn't great but with the cards stacked against us its about as good as it gets. Oh I know what you're thinking, look what Gabs did on Thursday but that was different, every man or woman for themselves and being a flyweight was an advantage as it was up hill. Today there will be teams riding against us, its as much down as up, I'm at a disadvantage all round.

There was no foghorn or other obvious signal of the resumption of riding but there seemed to be a general concensus and we were soon retracing our route through Hidalgo. Everyone seemed content to just get the legs going again for now which gave me a chance to case the opposition. Clearly any singletons weren't part of this loaded bet which ruled out pretty much half the group, of the rest six teams were represented with between four and eight riders, twelve of us and up to twenty five of them.
 

"Sae what d'ya think Gab?” Josh queried.
"Dunno mate, we don't know who we are really up against but they can easily identify us.”
"Aye, the Bossman has loaded it against us for sure.”

Then it hit me, well not literally, but an idea grew between my ears.

"What if we keep someone, anyone, it doesn't matter who, in the top ten.”
"And what does that do hen?”
"Helps us identify the enemy, those 'not racing' will try to keep all their riders forward, the rest will just mix, if we keep someone sufficiently close to the front I'm pretty sure they'll try to get ahead wherever we are on the road.”
"Worth a try ah guess.”
"I'll talk to Mum.”

"Hmm, might work kiddo,” Mum allowed as we passed through Bajamar, "You got anyone in mind?”
"We just put riders up there randomly, maybe a couple together even, if they are in on it they'll be watching us, so twelve can play that game.”
"I'll pass the word, maybe you'd like first watch?”
"On it,” I agreed.
 
Unlike the outward ride with its comfortable rotation, the return was, on the outside certainly, less structured. In total there's about fifty of us, a fair bunch, but instead of everyone taking a punt on the front, the professional mens teams were taking the brunt of the wind breaking, a phalanx of maybe half a dozen dictating the pace, riders taking point for longer stints, if this doesn't look like a race I'll eat my helmet.

I filtered forward, Erika casually slotting on my wheel. The pace was high but not ridiculously so, not so fast that we were losing bodies at least. Of course there's a second question, once we have some idea of who we are up against, what then?
 

By the time we reached Tejina most of us had been 'for a look' up at the front, it wasn't really that difficult to work out who was concerned by our presence and who not. Any sort of 'attack' on our part would be shut down pronto, when one of the indies tried to go off the front, well he didn't get a length clear. No, we need to be more subtle in our approach, let them think they are in control of things, we only need one rider in the mix to upset things but what if we had say four?

"Mum,” I hissed, "You, Anita, follow Josh.”

She looked about to argue but instead just signaled 'Nita. I'd evaluated our options, Tina is a bit of a terrier but a bit obvious, Neet, with her 'cross background is rangier but I know from experience she's a bugger to shake off. Mum? Well who wouldn't include her, Josh though is our ace really, he might not have the years but he's full as big as some of these guys and he'll take some shifting. Et moi? Well maybe my Pinarello and rainbow bands will dazzle them?

The plan? Well its 'not a race' so any sort of attacking move was out, all we really needed to do was distance even just one of them, by haunting them at the front its they who will have to make the move. Yeah all we have to do is hang tight.

BANG!

The tyre explosion made pretty much everyone jump, not least me, it took me seconds more to realise that it was my rear tyre that was shredded, bum and double bum. I stuck my arm up and eased myself towards the gutter.

"Okay Gab,” Mand asked as the others came up.
"Flat,” I sighed.
"Bang goes dinner,” Erika opined.
"I'll stay with,” Tal stated pulling to the side.

It was with some frustration that I watched as the peloton disapeared up the road.
 
Maddy Bell © 30.03.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Whats up kiddo?” Dad queried when Mike stopped the 'rescue machine'.
"Rear puncture,” I advised struggling to free the wheel, Tal holding the front end as I waggled things.
"Calm down, let me have a look.”

Well of course, my panicky wheel removal attempt was eclipsed by the ten seconds, no literally, that it took Dad to free the round bit from the bike. Mike joined us with a replacement and literally, within a minute I was getting back on. Maybe not race speed but pretty quick nevertheless.

"Take it steady girls, nothing to be gained by chasing today,” Dad told us as I clicked in.
“'kay,” I sighed.
 

"You're quiet,” Tal observed as we rode along at a much reduced rate – well Dad was right, no point chasing a bolted horse or in this case peloton.
"I was looking forward to shoving it up their sexist bums.”
"The others were still there right?”
"Yeah.”
"Well I'm sure they won't give in without a fight.”
"I s'pose,” but I wanted to be there, at the sharp end.

We tootled along and despite not chasing, by the time we reached the edge of Puerto de la Cruz, we had picked up more Apollinaris riders and a few other random individuals so that we were quite a big group. A few people peeled off, well thats kind of expected, not everyone wants to or can socialise after a ride afterall. We, that's Team Apollinaris however, picked our way through the afternoon traffic back to the lighthouse car park where we joined our peers at the coffee bar.
 

"So?” i enquired finding my mother holding court.
"Hey Princess, everything okay?”
I let the 'princess' go, "Well?”
"George won his stupid bet,” she grinned, before returning to her audience, "As I was saying....”

"Here,” Mand presented me with a cup of dark steaming liquid.
"Cheers,” I allowed taking the cup, I prefer at least a drop of cow juice in it but one sip confirmed that there was ample sweetener in it, I train my minions well.
"I don't think the other managers are that happy,” she nodded to where three blokes with expressions like thunder were muttering to each other.
"So who, what?”

I didn't get an answer from Mand as somebody was ruffling my hair.

"Geroff!”
"Keep ya knickers on hen.”
"Josh.”
"Aye, in person like.”
"So are you gonna tell me what happened?”
"No ones said?”
"She knows we won George's wager for him,” Mand put in.
"Aye, it got quite intarestin' after you dropped oot mind.”
"And?” I pressed.
"Well your Mam stoored things oop a bit like, went foor a flier. Talk aboot a hornets nest. so...”

Josh's telling of the tale, once i'd translated from Toon to German, was that after Mater made her bid for freedom, the opposition turned up the screws. Mum was reeled in of course, that was a given but whilst she was left dangling at the back, Josh and Neet were still hanging in there. Then Neet made her own 'move'.

By now they were less than ten K from Puerto de la Cruz, after having seen off the women's 'attacks', talk amongst the opposition was that the job was done. Seems that Josh's presence had been overlooked, maybe it was his blue jersey, as opposed to the seniors cream and my very obvious white stripey thing or just that with his bit of face fungus he clearly wasn't female, anyway he was holding it in the bunch. Come the 'finish' line he was still there, about tenth wheel, at least three of the 'opposition' rolling in behind him.

Okay, it wasn't quite the plan i'd had in mind, but it worked. The bosses and riders alike were celebrating success before George gleefully pointed out Josh's presence. There had been some 'discussion' where they'd claimed that he was a ringer, that they had meant the women, well anything to save face. In the end though they had agreed a compromise which kept everyone, if not happy, at least talking to each other.

"It was you're idea to get us oop there,” Josh concluded.
"I guess.”
"No guessin', it wouldn't 'ave gone down without the first step.”
"He's right Gab,” Tal agreed, "You set it up even if you weren't there at the kill.”
"It was hardly a kill.”
"Whatever, we're eatin' oot on it t'nite like,” the Toon mentioned.
 

Just over an hour later we arrived back at the hotel.

"Before you all disapear,” Dad called out, "For those flying tomorrow, we need to leave straight after breakfast so it might be an idea to pack as much as possible tonight but more importantly, anything you don't need that can go by sea needs to be down here before we go to eat tonight. Oh and George said you don't need to wear your 'dresses' but nothing too er provocative please.”

We all picked up on that last sentence, well maybe not Daz and Josh but they'd likely wear the same anyhow.

 
"Well thats a turn up,” Mand opined as we clattered our way into our room a few minutes later.
"Just as well,” I allowed, "Mine needs a visit to the cleaners."

Yeah, the junior team's blue frocks might not show the dirt like the seniors but after a couple of wears, they collect the odd stain and a certain, grubbiness.

"So what're you going to wear instead?” de Vreen asked collapsing back onto her bed.
"Dunno, hadn't given it any thought,” well duh, we only found out like five minutes ago, "I'll have a look after I shower.”

As a bike rider you can't be too shy, changing facilities are often minimal, room sharing is the norm on overnighters and even what we wear, the shorts and jerseys, leave, erm, little to modesty. You remember that photo shoot last year, the bodypaint? It went undetected (as far as I know) because you expect to see cyclists in skin tight clothing. Its not always that flattering, especially if you aren't so trim but thats just the way it is, anyway i've gotten away from the point, my shoes, socks and jersey were soon shucked and I was in the shower.
 

I rattled through the hangers on my side of the wardrobe, the team frock, a couple of summer dresses or, well nothing really suitable for dinner.

"You could wear your new denim,” Mand suggested stepping from the bathroom drying her hair on a towel.
"As if,” I snorted.
"Why not? Its not like its tatty jeans, it is quite dressy.”
"I guess, they'll need an iron though.”
"Kat's got one.”
"So what do I wear on top?”
"Ta da!” she whipped a slinky looking vest thing from her case, "Dresses up the denim a bit.”

Just when you think you've got the whole girls fashion thing licked some clever clogs always comes along to move the goalposts. Maybe I should stick to haute couture or kostum, at least you only have to worry about your hair and makeup then. My friends call me a fashionista but really, I mostly copy what i've seen on mannequins or other people wearing, I bought the denim without thinking what i'd wear with it.

When I think about it, Mum is the same, its like she has a limited pallette of what goes with what, this top those trousers, that dress with those shoes, rarely does she deviate, I guess she's just not a clothes person. Jules is a bit more adventuresome but even so, her default is still blue jeans and t shirts. I suppose most of us have our 'look' and maybe I just haven't found mine yet.
BH, knickers, Mands top and yep, the new capri's do need a quick iron, Kat is only just down the hall so I grabbed the jacket as well and slipped across.

Knock, knock, "Kat!”
"Who is it?”
"Gabs.”
"What's up, I'm not dressed.”
"Can I borrow your iron?”
"Sure, hang on.”

It was only as I waited for her to open the door that I realised how I was dressed, oops.

"Nice knickers.”
I barged past her, “er yeah.”

Pinger was herself only wearing pants and a BH, the room was, well, in some disarray, stuff seemingly strewn all over, not that I'm one to talk.

"I was just starting to pack,” she advised.
"Did I say anything?”
"You don't need to, you're mum gets that same look.”
"So the iron?”
She pointed across the room, "Over on the side,”

And there it was, on top of the desk thingy was a towel with the iron stood waiting. I am no domestic goddess, okay, I'm a fair cook, I can do basic sewing stuff, but I do cleaning and laundry out of neccesity and use an iron as little as possible. It may therefore come as no surprise that I wasn't quite sure where to start on my new denim, creases might be the thing with some leg wear but close fitting capri's, I think not.

"Geez Gab, give it here.”
I surrendered my trousers and the makeshift ironing board to my friend.

"Sorry.”
"You really are clueless sometimes.”
"What can I say,” I allowed with a shrug, "I'm better at wearing stuff than looking after it.”
"I suppose you want the jacket doing as well?”

She was already expertly running her appliance along the first leg.

"Er please.”
 

"So what shoes are you wearing,” Mand asked when I returned to our accomodation resplendent in the newly decreased denim.
"Dunno, sandals I guess.”

Mand, for her part, was rockin' a sort of beige slip thing with a brown lace overlay, a bit Gothicy but it kinda worked.

"What I was thinking too.”

I had a choice, stilts, sparkly kitten heeled things or walking sandals – yeah well they were never going to work but neither did the others, not really. The stilts match the Apollinaris dress so they weren't happening and the kittens, well they just looked wrong, I needed heels.

"This isn't happening.”
"What about your boots?” Mand suggested.
"The new ones?”
"Do you have others here?”
"But they're black.”
"Trust me.”
"Okay, whatever,” I half heartedly agreed, "I'll give em a go.”

I found the box and sat on the bed to put them on, they really needed some hose but for a try on, dry would do. Because of that they were a bit of a struggle to get into but once they were all done up they felt fine.

"So?” I asked the style guru.
"Turn around.”
I slowly rotated myself, "Well?”
"You can walk in those?”
"Sure,” I went to take my usual stride but found I couldn't.

Okay, the denim is t.i.g.h.t. Like in, very, I can walk but in smaller steps, which is just as well in these heels.

"You'll do,” Manda stated, "There might be a few heart attacks but you is looking one hot chicka.”
"Maybe I should change.”
"Don't you dare Bond, don't you dare.”
 

When you are as vertically challenged as me, even ten centimetre heels don't raise me into a towering Valkyrie so it was Manda's careful coifing of my barnet that caught the initial attention as we convened for the trip down into Puerto de la Cruz.

"Like your hair,” Erika offered.
"Er thanks, Mand's work.”
"Not sure my hairs long enough for anything that fancy.”

Maybe not, like a lot of racers she kept her hair shorter for its practicality, not boyish or anything but a lot shorter than my below shoulder tresses. As you know, I'm not exactly great when it comes to hair, ponytail, a basic braid or even two is about my level of skill, anything more and I send for the cavalry. This evenings 'do' is actually quite simple, a couple of braids from my temples caught together into a single braid over the rest of my free flowing locks – compared to some of the intricate arrangements i've had it really is simple.

Given that I wasn't the only one in heels it wasn't until the taxibus's dropped us in the old town that my footwear was noticed. I had to slide myself out, at least having trousers on its a little more dignified.

"Interesting footwear,” Mum posed, steadying me as I stood on the pavement.
"Er yeah,” I agreed, "I erm got them yesterday, for the Tour.”

What is it with mothers, you just feel compelled to 'fess up even if you've done nothing wrong.

"You gonna be okay on the cobbles?”
"I have worn heels before you know.”
"I know, I suppose they aren't as high as those skyscrapers you conned out of me at Essen.”

Essen, whats she on about, oh Centro.

"Come on you two,” Tina called from along the street.
"On our way.”

We must have cut a bit of a strange sight, a mixture of fashion styles from down at the disco to casual summer frocks with various points in between. Whatever you might think, we caught some attention as we headed for our dinner venue, a taverna going by the unlikely name of the Torreodor de las Americas. We usually end up in some family friendly restaurant with a hint of muzak and tablecloths, the Torreodor was certainly not that. Think more of a sports bar, you know the places, bright lights, loud music, MTV on the screens.

"This right?” Anja querried pausing at the door.
"Boss?” Mum queried.
"Its the place,” George confirmed, "See our hosts are already here.”

The front of the bar was open but even so we needed to thread our way to the back where a couple of dozen, mostly men were already clutching beer glasses and talking loudly over the music. Having arrived at the back of our party I waited my turn to enter, I looked along the street, the sun glinting off the Atlantic just a couple of hundred metres away. Today Tenerife, tomorrow cold, no doubt damp, Dernau.

"Gab, you coming?” Gret yelled.

I turned back to the taverna, the others were already finding seats around the long table we seemed to be using, my stomach gave a rumble, food. Just then the music changed from Madonna to Queen, not one of the better known anthems though.

'She keeps her Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet
"Let them eat cake", she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
A built-in remedy
For Khrushchev and Kennedy
At anytime an invitation
You can't decline'

There are some duffers in the Queen back catalogue but 'Killer Queen' certainly isn't one of them. The chorus started as I was about halfway across the room, there was an open space, maybe from moving the tables about for our party.

'She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime'

It felt like every eye in the place was on me as I strutted across the empty space, the tap of my heels in perfect time with Freddie's lyrics. Some entrance eh?
 
Maddy Bell © 02.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Seat over here Gab!” Daz called out.

I had been aiming for a spot next to Tali and Josh but that was around the back, Darren was seating himself with his back to the street which was easier to get to. Queen finished playing and I lost my apparent mesmerism of the tables occupants, conversations, greetings and tales picked up as if nothing had happened. Well maybe it hadn't, maybe I just imagined it.

If that was true though, how come there was a waiter pulling the chair out for me with the cheesiest grin you've ever seen plastered across his face.

"Signora.”
"Gracias.”

He pushed the chair in as I seated myself before speaking again.

"Qué le gustaría beber?”
I know this one, "Er vino tinto por favor.”

Well its worth a go, right?

"Vaso o jarra?”
Erm, "Jarra?”
”Bien, un momento por favor.”

"Your Spanish is pretty good,” Daz mentioned, "what was all that about?”
"Not really, i think i ordered a drink.”
"Huh, the rest of us must be invisible,” he grumped.

I gave a shrug, its not like i've got any control over the waiting staff is it? The fact that Pedro or whatever he's called was back with a carafe and glass before i'd stowed my bag was a bit, er disconcerting, pouring me a generous amount before scurrying off.

"Invisible,” Daz repeated.

 
"You two okay down here?” Dad asked from behind us, "There's room down the end if you want to move.”
"We're fine, eh Gab?” Daz hinted.
"Er yeah, dandy,” i agreed.

I looked along the table, most of Apollinaris were away down the opposite end, me and Daz were sat amongst a host of strangers, some i recognised from earlier but others were maybe support staff, a girl a few seats along gave me a wink before rolling her eyes.

"Just go easy on the grape juice eh kiddo.”
"I only thought i was getting a small glass.”
"If you say so, you got a drink Darren?”
"Not yet.”
"I'll send one down.”
"Thanks Mr B.”
"I'd best get back, looks like George is after me.”

 
It wasn't until food started arriving that introductions with our fellow diners were made, Henk and Lars to my left, Guido, Simon and José opposite. The food, inevitably more paella, was served in huge steel pan things placed strategically along the table, plates arrived in short order and there was no hesitation in people digging in. In theory at least, we've been eating healthily all week, okay we've cheated a couple of times but when you ride as much and at the intensity we have this week, you soon lose a few extra calories, this evening then is a bit of an end of session blow out for everyone here.

Oh there was wine and beer being consumed but this won't descend into a drunken mess, if you want to be part of this level of racing, you can't afford to do that. Don't get me wrong, bikies can party with the best but not at this end of the season, there's too much hanging on being serious about the racing. My bet is that most of the table will be on soft drinks most of the evening.

The food was pretty reasonable, maybe a bit oily but there was a good mix of shellfish, crustaceans and 'pescado' amongst the rice and vegetable matter. There was panecillo if you wanted it, i snagged a couple just on principal, well the chances of there being anything left later was fairly remote.

"You have enough?” Lars queried, waving the serving spoon over the pan. We'd settled on German to speak as my Swedish amounts to zilch and he had picked up some Deutsch when he rode for a Swiss team.
"If theres any more fish floating about in there,” i hinted.
"I think I saw a couple of pieces,” he allowed exploring the paella with the spoon, "Ah, here we go, rice too?”
"Maybe a bit.”
"You ill Gab?” Darren chimed in seeing what Lars put on my plate.
"Just being polite.”
"Never stops you any other time.”

Any other time I've not been wearing new, tight denim trousers.

"Feeling a bit bloated,” I suggested.
"God, you sound like my sister, 'I'm bloated, its my period', always some flippin' excuse for not doing stuff.”
"They can be quite bad.”
"Not Esme's, she uses it as an excuse to get out of stuff then she'll be down at the stables mucking out and stuff without complaining.”
"Maybe its gone off a bit?”
"Nah, its the same every month.”

Not really a conversation I wanted to pursue.

"So you back to college on Monday?”
"Yeah worst luck, you?”
"Uh huh,” I agreed as I pushed rice around my plate with a lump of panecillo, "Yep, management and employment law, joy.”
"Thought you were doing catering?”
"Hospitality, we can specialise in year two. You?”
"Just A's.”

Of course i know how the UK system works but i've not gone through it myself having done my own secondary education in Germany.

"So how's it gonna work with races then?”
"I'll come to Germany for the big events but i do my own programme at home the rest of the time.”
"Bit like Josh, Tal and Gret then.”
"And you and Mand.”
"Never thought about it like that, but yeah, i guess.

In truth, i've always thought of us, and Ron before she moved up, as the 'main' team, based as we are at the team HQ. But i suppose, in reality, thats just me being elitist.

 
An interesting evening was had by all, chatting with the guys about racing and bikes and stuff, getting some new insights and experiences into the lexicon. The novelty of my gender and palmares was soon forgotten as everything from sharing rooms to brake block efficacy were discussed in the multilingual exchange. The level in my carafe reduced even as beer was replaced by cola and juice elsewhere, i swear it filled itself up.

It was nice to dine in some different company for a change, i wouldn't go as far as suggest we became bosom pals but i'll look for them in the results at least, who knows, we may cross paths in the future. To be honest, it probably helped that things didn't pan out like i'd hoped earlier, in the end i hadn't dented any egos other than my own, they could live with Josh getting the better of them but maybe a 'slip of a girl' would be a step too far for harmony! Plates were cleared, pans removed, coffee splashed into cups and the tables occupants became more mobile.

"You drink that whole carafe?” Ron asked slipping into the seat Lars had just vacated.
"Might've.”
"Your dad'll go potty.”
"I've been practicing.”
"Practicing what?”
"Drinkin'”
"Right, coz thats a good thing,” Ron snorted.
"I'm seventeen you know.”
"We know, doesn't mean you have to drink though.”
"But i want to.”
"What you want is more coffee,” she stated, "Daz, can you get that waiter guy? Daz?”
"Eh?” he moved his attention from eavesdropping on our tablemates to fearsome Grönberg.
"Waiter, coffee?”
"Oh right, sure.”

Okay, i'll admit it, i was feeling a little – er, light headed, a status it would probably be best that my parents and George remain unaware of. And now i thought about it, i was getting a bit warm and...

"Toilet!”
"Next to the bar.”
"Outta my way!”
 

"Better?” Ron enquired.
"Uh huh,” i managed still knelt honouring the porcelain god.
"Everything okay?”

Mum.

"Yeah Jen, think she overdid the paella.”
"Bwuh!”
"Hmm, well if you're playing nursemaid make sure she drinks plenty.”
"Will do.”

"Where'd you two get to?” Daz demanded, "Coffee'll be cold."
"Where you think?” Ron asked, "Gab was feeling a bit off.”
"My sister does that too, she thinks the rents don't know.”
"I'm not making myself throw up,” i snapped.
"Matter of opinion,” Ron muttered.
"Just saying,” Daz said, "You want fresh coffee?”
"Water might be better,” Ron suggested.
"Lemonade, settles my stomach,” i groaned.

 
"So what happened to you tonight, thought you'd be up for a bop.”

Ron's ministrations prevented further visits to the facilities, we ended up sat in a corner with the 'party' going on around us.

"Bad stomach,” i suggested to my roomy.
"You will stuff yourself.”

Not tonight i didn't.

"Yeah, whatever.”

I hope i don't look like i feel or i'll get it both barrels in the morning. I stumbled into our room and pausing only to dump my case on the floor, collapsed onto the bed.

"Let me guess,” Mand started, "The bit that didn't agree was in a glass or several glasses?”
"Don't wanna talk about it.”
"Gaby Bond, you really don't make a good lush.”
"I can't help it, i'm only little.”
"So don't drink so much.”
"I didn't mean to.”
"So i suppose you're finishing your packing in the morning?”
"Gnf.”
"Gaby?”
"Eh? S'mornin' already?”
"Never mind.”
 

"Gab!”

A couple of brain cells tried to connect but gave up.

"Bond! Come on, get your bum in gear!”

That noise, its there again.

"Gab-ee, wake up, your Dad'll go ballistic if we're not ready.”

The synapses finally connected.

"Wassup?” I groaned still with eyes firmly shut.
"Finally!” Mand sighed, "Come on, you need to get up, we've got like ten minutes to get down for breakfast and you still need to finish packing.”

Packing, breakfast? It took a moment but then it all came flooding back, the meal, the wine, being sick, and on top of that we're flying back to Germany this morning. My mouth felt like i'd been sucking a sponge, my head throbbed, I didn't want to think about getting vertical.
 

We made it to breakfast – just. Mand rammed my stuff in the case while I had the fastest shower on record. Of course, Dad was tapping his foot when we got to the bus with our bags, but we were there before he blew a gasket so being a little tardy into the breakfast room wasn't so bad.

"Thought you'd overslept,” Gret opined.
"Someone did,” Mand pointedly told the others, "I had to pack her case.”
"I did say thank you.”
"You'll be late for your own fun'ral like” Josh suggested.
"That's good right?”
"Here, get this down you,” Tali instructed as she plonked a cup of coffee in front of me.
"Er thanks.”
"Ot oh,” Gret hissed, "George is coming over..”

"Morning everyone.”
"Morning Boss,” well I thought i'd get that in early, the others variously grunted greetings to our Uber Director.
"I hope you've all found this week useful, it's a bit short as a training block but its a good bit of base work. Dave'll be talking to you all about this years programme in the next couple of weeks, we've had some interesting invitations thanks to last years results and indeed, Gaby's expolits here on the island. I probably won't see you all together again for a while so have a good season and we'll keep the sponsors happy eh?

Safe journeys, tschuss.”

George scuttled off, no doubt to harangue Dad with something or other and we returned to our Frühstück.

It suddenly occurred to me that someone was missing, "Where's Daz?”
"In his bed if he has any sense,” Gret offered.
"Shouldn't he be here, Dad'll be spitting feathers if we're late.”
"You really were out of it last night Bond,” Tali chuckled.
"Huh?”
"His flights not till this afternoon hen,” Josh filled in, "Mike's dropping him off on the way to the ferry.”
"Right, I knew that.”

Well it does sort of make sense. But what else did I miss? Its not like I was totally blotto is it, I'll admit to a maybe bit tipsy but I walked to the taxi and up to our room when we got back so I couldn't've been too bad.

By the time we'd finished with breakfast, collected the rest of our stuff from the fourth floor and returned down to reception, the rest of Team Apollinaris were up and about. I don't envy them their return to Germany, ferry back to Spain and a solid two days drive across Iberia and back to the Rhein although there was some muttering about getting in a days riding in the Alps on the way, it could be Thursday before they reach the Ahrtal.
Of course, all our bikes, well except for Darrens, are travelling with them so we, once again are travelling fairly light.

"See you later in the week kiddo.”
"Yes Mum.”
"And remember to take that dress into the cleaners.”
"I will,” I sighed.
"You okay, you're still looking a little green around the gills.”
"I'm fine, really, bit tired is all.”
"Well at least you can have a sleep on the plane.”
"I guess.”

Yeah, deep joy, four hours cooped up in one of Air Berlin's flying cattle trucks, just what I need.

 
Despite the coffee and the shower and six hours sleep, I was still feeling a bit queasy as we set off for the airport, just how much vino did I consume last night? I know I didn't eat a gargantuan amount and in any case, most of that stayed at the cantina. Maybe I ought to find something to eat at the airport, half a Brotchen with chocolate spread won't keep me going for long.

Ten days ago, when we arrived, it was all very exciting, but this morning the atmosphere on the minibus is quite subdued. Even Dad isn't his usual chirpy self, I guess its not been much of a break, if any, for the management team, sorting bikes and bodies each evening and supervising our activities during the day. The riders get all the glory, the backroom guys and girls get all the stress of keeping us on the road.

Dad dropped the five of us and the luggage at the terminal before going to return the bus. We were far from being the only bleary eyed travellers though, it looked like half of those travelling had bikes in bags or cases, just as well the rest appeared to have no more than hand luggage. Dad reappeared quite quickly and we started the whole check in, security lark.

 
Of course, its Sunday, everyone and their dog wants to fly out today so the airport was heaving, seating was at a premium, we ended up variously perched, leaning against and otherwise taking space around a single seat and one of those table bits. We had time for coffee at least, I really wasn't feeling on top of things, maybe i've picked up some sort of a bug. Time seemed to be on a go slow but eventually the flight back to Frankfurt was called allowing us to leave the multilingual jungle in exchange for an almost entirely German language queue at the Air Berlin loading gate.

We shuffled along with the rest and soon enough we were making our way across the apron to our plane. You'd think seating six of us would be simple enough but despite the seats being in rows of six, we were spread over four banks of seats and three different rows one of which was seven rows from the others. Still I'm not complaining, I scored a window seat even if I was on my own, extra bonus, the middle seat was a no show so I wasn't gonna be squidged by anyone either.

I made myself comfy, maybe I can actually get a bit of kip. We rolled out to the runway as part of a procession of departing flights but there wasn't much delay before the engines roared to maximum and we were thrust along the concrete. A slight jerk as we lifted then a steep banking climb which gave me a great view south over Mount Teide but that was soon replaced by an ocean of water. The seatbelt light blinked off and I closed my eyes, head resting against the window curtain, four hours back to Germany, five if you count the time change.
 
Maddy Bell © 04.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
Thirty seconds should do it, twenty to get out of the building and ten to make my escape. I clicked the timer around carefully, none of this digital stuff that Q keeps trying to push onto me, nope good old fashioned clockwork for me, no chance of being interfered with. On the other hand, the latest two pack explosives do make things a little, er, safer.

I surveyed my handiwork, one small bang here and then a chain reaction will rip through the computer suite, the work of S.O.D.O.R. will be set back years by which time Her Majesties government will have their own satellite platform in place to track their activities. Oh I know we borrow from our allies the Americans now but recent experience suggests they aren't being entirely honest with some of the shared intel. But enough, time is of an essence.

Here goes nothing, I pulled the master drives from the array and secured them in my pack, one push on the timer and its game on. Of course as soon as the system noticed its core had disapeared the alarms started, there will be guards everywhere. A quick check of the corridor and I slipped out, losing the white lab coat in a convenient cleaners cart.

The staccato tap of my heels as I hurried towards my exit point reminded me that I wasn't exactly dressed for my escape, lets hope our inside man has kept his end of the bargain.

"There! After her.”

Bugger, spotted already, so much for plenty of time. One positive, they'll want me alive, they can't afford to shoot and hit the hardware. My brisk walk turned to a run, the heels had to go, I barely hesitated as I pulled them off, a quick twist of the heels and...

'KABOOM!'

Pity, I rather like Laboutin.

The flash bombs wouldn't delay pursuit long, it was easier to run in my stocking feet but boy, that floor is cold! I skidded to a halt at my exit point, quickly jabbing in the code but nothing, have we been double crossed? A second try and the door popped open, I hesitated only to put a round into the mechanism, it should slow them long enough.

It was perishing cold beyond the door, well it opened directly onto the mountain, there as agreed were skis and suitable footwear. I ripped off the dress to reveal the skin tight race suit I was already wearing, I almost jumped into the boots, click, click, click, pull on the goggles and away.

Getting in to S.O.D.O.R.'s mountain top lair had been easy, Dr Marten was a bit of a sov, now I like a drink as much as the next gal but the good doctor could compete at the Olympics. It had been easy enough to sedate her, Max had made short work of both that and cloning her ID with my details. It had actually been a pleasant ride up the mountain in the cable cars but not very practical to return when being pursued.

I pushed off over the edge onto the steep down slope, the first explosion sounding behind me. Hmm, maybe forty seconds next time. Of course, I didn't get far before the first signs of pursuit, the staccato retort of sub machine gun fire, sounded behind me.

The mountainside seemed to erupt with guards, I'll give them that, S.O.D.O.R. haven't stinted on manpower. The sound of gunfire fell away but not the pursuit, lets face it, its nigh on impossible to shoot and ski, a situation I fully intend to take advantage of. I'm glad I spent that week in Klosters before Christmas, the Swiss ski team are no slouches, even off piste.

Getting off the mountain was always going to be a challenge, no dry run and everything looks completely different to the satellite pics when you are doing forty miles an hour across the snow. I swerved around a rocky outcrop only to find myself airbourne for several seconds before a less than elegant landing.

"Ya-argh!”

Clearly one of my pursuers needs a bit of practice on the slopes.

 
There, over to the left, the cable car, I can follow that down. Nothing is ever that simple, to get there I had to cross a mogul field, not my strong point on two planks. Left, right, up, down, keep it relaxed Bond, I misjudged almost the last lump, instead of hugging the ground I found myself doing a forward somersault from a surprisingly steep ramp. Oof! Well, I'm still upright at least.

I made a spectacular turn around the first cable car pylon but there in front was a snowmobile and the passenger has what looks very much a rocket launcher, bum! The first missile exploded off to my right but still showered me with snow and ice, I kinked left, need to ruin his aim.

Boom! A second explosion just ahead of me, damn, back the other way then. I turned back towards the cablecar, kaboom! But there was more, a vibration beneath my skis then a murmur, no a rumble, damn, those damned rockets have set an avalanche and I'm in its way. I'm no expert but one thing I do know, you can't out ski an avalanche, you need to get out of its way.

I chanced a look back up the slope there were still three figures on skis chasing after me but behind them, oh bugger. Well I suppose this calls for plan B then. Now if I remember rightly, that next pylon is at the top of a cliff, but can I get there before the mess of destruction following me down the mountainside.

Down into a speed crouch, I picked out my takeoff point, well here goes nothing, lets just hope Q gave me the right backpack.

The rumble behind was added to by screams as my pursuers were swept up and then I was over the edge, I pulled the toggle and phew, instead of plunging to almost certain death I was jerked upwards as the parachute canopy filled with air and caught a thermal. Clearly not all of S.O.D.O.R.'s men had perished, the rat a tat tat of automatic fire rent the air, close enough to nick the canopy but I was moving further away from the immediate danger, now all I have to do is get back to terra firma and make good my exit.

There was a crackle in my ear, "You alright Bond? There's S.O.D.O.R. Operatives running around like blue arsed flies down here.”
"Fine, quite the view in fact.”
"Thank the lord.”
"I rather think Q had more to do with it.”
"As long as you're in one piece,” my assistant let out a breath.
"I guess landing in town is out, pity, I saw a nice dress in Atelier Josef I wanted to try. Best bring the car up to the cabin Max.”
 
Maddy Bell © 05.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
I carefully swung the door open and despite the stiletto heels of my sandals crept soundlessly towards the figure rattling files in one of the large old fashioned teak file cabinets – I know its the digital age but some things really do need to be out of that particular loop. I made it about halfway before the figure stood up.

"You'll have to try harder than that Bond.”
"Damn, how do you do it Pennyworth, what gave me away this time?”
"Perfume,” she grinned turning from the cabinet with a thick folder in her hand.
"But I'm not wearing any today.”
"Exactly, I heard you walking along the corridor, there was a draft when the door opened but no perfume, it was either 005 trying another disguise or you, every other woman wears scent, even M. talking of which, you got it?”

That's the thing in Six, even the office staff think they're spies.

I opened my bag and withdrew the tiny bottle, "Chanel Number Seven for my favourite secretary.”
"Number seven?”
"So exclusive you can't buy it, I had to do a half day shoot for that.”
"Which you were booked for anyway,” she pointed out.

Well okay, I'll concede that, the other 00's get to be Playboys, businessmen, one's cover is a golf pro. Me, I get to be a model, not your run of the mill runway examples, I'm officially the house Mannequin at Jean Coupárd, clothier to the rich and even richer around the globe. In those circles no one asks how much, I get to be part of that world for my employer, HM Government, or to be precise MI6, me, little ol' Gabrielle Bond late of Dernau near Bonn although my English roots got me the job.

The intercom crackled, "Pennyworth, is Bond here yet?”
"Yes Boss, just arrived.”
"Well send her in then, you can discuss the latest fashions on your own time.”
"She's on her way.”

 
"Everything go okay in Switzerland?” M queried before I even reached her desk.
"As well as it ever does, its all in the report.”
"I know whats in the report, its what isn't that bothers me,” she noted, motioning me to take a seat.
"So what's the emergency?”
"What do you know about Edvard Grönberg?”
"Of Limon fame?” I checked.

M nodded agreement.

"Bit of a playboy, likes his exotic toys, mechanical and human, usually to be found in Monte Carlo.”
"Which is why a sighting by our Israeli 'friends' on the East Bank,” she slid a twelve by eight over the mahogany, "Has raised a few eyebrows.”

The photograph was a bit grainy, Tel Aviv need to buy some better cameras, but Grönberg was easily identifiable talking to another chap.

"Any idea who the other chap is?”
"Werner Staedtler, former SSD, when the wall came down he fled Germany and disappeared from our radars.”
"I don't suppose the Stasi had many friends.”
"Quite, which is why this meeting with Grönberg set a few bells ringing.”
"Is there a connection between them?”
"I'm glad you asked Bond, they're cousins.”
"But Grönberg is Swedish.”
"But his parents were from Dresden, they fled to the West even as the Wall was being built.”
"So you think there's something fishy with this family reunion?”
"Very, why now and why Israel?”
I shrugged, "They wanted to catch the sun? So what's our involvement?”
"The Americans have asked us to lend a hand, get someone close to Grönberg, find out what's going on.”
"Don't they have any agents?”
"Not that fit the profile of one of Grönberg's 'exotica'.”

A visit to Q's laboratory can be quite entertaining, where the boffins come up with this stuff is beyond me. I idly picked up what looked like a fountain pen, an expensive one, removing the cap revealed it to be a very nice Waterman Expert, but there must be more to it than that.

I was disturbed in my thoughts by the approach of Q and his sidekick, Marty.

"Bond, just be careful with that.”
"Whats it do? Single shot gun? Hyperdermic? Listening device?”
"Nothing Bond, it was a present from my wife.”

Well thats me told. I returned the cap and passed it to its owner.

"So I suppose this is just a biro too eh?” I suggested picking up an innocuous cheap retractable from the desk.
"Don't!” Q told me just as I hit the button.

Marty went down like a brick, the tufts of the tiny dart sticking out of his neck.

"Do that,” Q sighed.
"I haven't killed him have I?”
"No, its a fast acting sedative, he'll be out for a couple of hours. Come on, lets get you kitted out.”

I followed the tech wizard through the laboratory to where a table was already waiting for us with, to my disapointment, only a handful of items laid on it. Well who doesn't like fancy toys to play with at work? A quick glance confirmed that it would be my wits rather than technology that would be keeping me out of the mire on this mission.

"So what do we have?”
"Glad to see you're taking it seriously Bond,” he picked up a small jewellery box and snapped it open, "Paste I'm afraid, the earrings incorporate a short wave transmitter, the choker has a digital camera, shutter is the red stone.”
"Bit ostentatious,” I opined.

The pieces were a bit garish for my taste, big and sparkly, the pseudo stones set in white gold or something that looked like white gold, which at least gave the whole a slightly less chainstore appearance.

"Our intel suggests that Grönberg likes his er, companions to be bejewelled, even around the pool.”
"Oh joy. Whats next?”
Q picked up a key fob, "Transport to get you in the door,” he noded towards the garage area, "Bugatti sixteen four Veyron Pur Sang, we've added a few extras for you.”
"Well that should get his attention.”

It would get anyones attention, unpainted bodywork polished like chrome with raw carbon fibre providing the accents, all in all an eye turner of a car.

"So what do I get? Ejection seat, rocket launchers?”
"Nothing so dramatic,” he thumbed the fob and the car vanished.
"What the?”
"Cloaking device, hides the heat signature and renders the car almost undetectable.”
"Nice.”
"We've borrowed the tech from the RAF and the car is on loan so if you can avoid breaking anything Bond.”
"The Vantage wasn't my fault.”

Well okay, maybe the blame was partly on me, it was maybe a bit rash to jump a raised Tower Bridge.

"Oh, nearly forgot,” he picked up another jewelry box, "Locator, wear it at all times.”
"Er sure, so no arnament?”
"Its an intelligence gathering operation Bond,” M advised joining us, "I'd rather you didn't shoot up half the Pelopenese.”

Dang, and I was so looking forward to that bit.

"Grönberg will be in Heraklion, Crete on Sunday, a regular visit for poker. Find out what's going on between him and Staedtler and get out.”
"And my in?”
"Your other employer is holding a show on the island, its all legit, get noticed and Grönberg's team will do the rest.”
"So I'm Jerry to his Tom.”
"More like Tweety Pie.”

A tap of the paddle and the Veyron dropped a gear ready to accelerate out of the turn, Crete may not have the autobahns or endless tarmac to get anywhere close to the two hundred and fifty plus miles an hour top speed but there's no reason a girl can't have a little fun, right? Out of the corner and I let the eight litres loose again, being flung hard into the leather upholstery for my troubles.

Too soon I was navigating the streets of the old town, finally pulling the Bugatti into a parking space on the water front. I checked my makeup in the mirror then exchanged the air conditioned quiet of the interior for the noisy heat of a Cretian Saturday afternoon. I made my way over to the waterside taverna where my 'backup' was reading a paper.

"Max.”
"Gabrielle,” he returned, rising to accept the air kisses that 'money' uses for personal greetings, "Pretty car, good trip?”
"I think a few Gendarmes will be checking their equipment.”

Okay, so I used the 'cloaking' system to dodge the boys with blue lights but it was still a full day's drive even at Veyron speeds.

Max signalled the waiter, who was already heading our way.

"The usual?”
"Better not, I'm driving, make it a soda and lime.”
"Soda and lime for the lady, I'll have another of these,” Max told the help.
"So what's the intel?”

Max adjusted his sunglasses and motioned towards the bay with his chin, "That's Grönberg's yacht just coming around the headland, if he follows his usual arrangements they'll stop out in the bay then come into the town to eat this evening.”
"Any idea where?”
"The Minotaur, across there, by the church.”
"So I guess its Ntákos tonight then.”
"Try not to get in trouble.”
"Me, trouble?”
 

I checked my image in the mirror, my hair was a bit Farrah Fawcett but it went with the rest of my appearance, a printed chifon playsuit, the cut away front exposing my firm stomach and showcasing the bling in my navel. Of course I had Q's earrings and choker, supplemented by equally bling wristlets picked up in Mayfair after I left HQ, I'm more a jeans and t shirt kind of girl but this is what keeps me in silk knickers.

"Just be careful Bond,” Max told me as he threaded the Bugatti around the old town, "Remember its intelligence gathering.”
"I remember okay.”
"Yeah, well I know you.”
"Hmmph!”

We pulled up outside The Minotaur, not The Ritz but at least halfway decent. Of course, I could've walked from the Grand Hotel, it was only a few streets away but then I couldn't have made my grand entrance for Edvard Grönberg's entertainment. Max got out and I waited for him to assist my exit from the Veyron, he makes quite a good chauffeur and I got to make a more elegant exit from the transport.

"I'll call when I want you,” I told him in my best 'talking to the staff' voice.
"Yes Modom.”

I looked over the terrace, the Bugatti had certainly turned a few heads, they were still looking as I made my way up the steps. A sexy car and a beautiful woman kept that attention focused and there he was, Edvard Grönberg, at a table near the rear of the terrace, maybe not exactly handsome but money can compensate. His companion was, at a guess, South American, exotic in that almost cloned fashion, maybe showing a little more flesh, a few more too white teeth in an effort to hold Grönberg's attention.

An attentive waiter appeared and led the way to my own table, a prime location where I would be seen but could also see my quarry.
 

I was barely seated before another member of staff arrived at my table with a bottle of Dom Perignon.

"From the gentleman by the door Madam.”
"Tell him thank you.”

I lowered my oversize sunglasses as I looked over, Grönberg smiled in acknowledgement whilst raising his own glass. So, i've attracted his attention.

"Mr Grönberg asks if you would join him for dinner,” the waiter went on.
"What about,” I spared a glance, his companion was no longer at the table, "Never mind, of course.”

I know there's nothing remotely like a free lunch but if Edvard Grönberg is picking up the tab I get Brownie points with Accounts. And after all, this is why I'm on Crete. The little playlet continued as I moved tables, Grönberg standing as I was seated at his table.

"Edvard Grönberg, thank you for joining me, such beauty should never dine alone.”

I felt the colour rising in my face, well what woman doesn't like a bit of flattery, especially when its far from the truth. Okay, I'll admit to being quite easy on the eye, or so I'm told but I'm not beautiful, not in any classical way.

"Gabrielle von Strechau,” I offered my hand which he lightly touched with his lips. Well you didn't think i'd use Bond did you?
"You are German?”
"According to my passport,” I agreed.
"So,” he went on returning to his seat, "What brings you to Heraklion?”
"Work I'm afraid, my boss, the coutourier Jean Coupárd, has a show tomorrow, I am but a humble mannequin.”
"I can't believe that you are humble at all, I'm pretty sure most women in your line of employ don't get chauffered around in the latest model Bugatti.”
I gave a shrug, "A gift from an admirer.”

Food arrived, apparently unbidden, we ate lightly and drank sparsely, the conversation equally frivolous. We were onto dessert when one of his lackeys bent and whispered in his ear, the smile dropped from his face as he lifted a finger.

"Is something wrong?”
"Some business has come up which I must attend to.”
"Nothing serious I hope.”
"I'm sorry that I must cut short dinner, I was so enjoying your company.”
"These things happen,” I allowed.
"But I must make it up to you, would you join me on my yacht tomorrow evening, after your show?”

Bullseye!

"I'd like that.”
"I'll send Armand to collect you.”
"I look forward to it, I hope you can sort out your business.”
"We shall see, until tomorrow, au revoire.”
"Au revoire.”

Grönberg and his minions departed, leaving The Minotaur quickly and with the ease that come with familiarity.

 
I surreptitiously touched an earring, "You there Max?”
"Where else would I be?”
"He's left.”
"I saw, you want collecting?”
"Give me a few minutes for coffee.”
 

"How's it going Bond?” M asked without preamble when I checked in with London back at the hotel.
"I'm fine thank you.”
"Of course you are.”

Such caring employers.

"He's taken the bait, he took off back to his gin palace though, some urgent business but i've been invited for dinner tomorrow night.”
"Could be our man,” M opined.
"Well maybe we'll find out tomorrow.”
"Be careful Bond, intelligence remember.”

What is it with everyone today? Anyone would think I enjoy the 00 perks and responsibilities. Well maybe I do, just a little but it plays havoc with your hair and nails.

"Bond, you still there Bond?
"Er sorry, just thinking.”
"Not always your strong point Bond.”

I let that slide.

"Any intel on what Staedtler is up to?”
"Nothing new but we think he might be headed in your direction, he caught a flight to Athens this morning.”
"Interesting.”
"If we get anything more we'll pass it on to Max.”
"Okay, well I best get some beauty sleep, busy day tomorrow.”

 
Maddy Bell © 10.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
Now don't get me wrong, the workload of a mannequin, lets get this straight, I am not a model, in a fashion house can be intense at times but its not hard physical labour. For what I do for Monsieur Coupárd I get very well compensated, I try to keep my work for MI6 from interfering too much but Jean is very accomodating, never asking questions of my absences from duty.

Todays show, I use the term loosely, forget those showbiz extravaganzas the big fashion houses put on, no, todays show is rather more exclusive and refined. Yup, theres no runway, load music, flashing lights, just me, the dresser, Monsieur Coupárd and an audience of about a dozen women of the local monied class. I show an outfit, leave, change and repeat whilst the viewers drink, eat canapés and discuss the clothing, I am literally a moving clothes hanger that everything fits perfectly.

There is of course some form to the showing, an order of show, the outfits working from casual daywear through more formal statement pieces and ending with evening wear. Coupárd doesn't do swimwear, sports or lingerie, other houses specialise in that stuff, thats not to say I don't get to expose a bit of flesh but we aren't in the B listers radar.
 

The audience broke for lunch a little after two, we only started the showing at twelve, which gave me a chance to check in with Max.

"Bond, so how are the matrons?”
"Some of them are under forty,” I chuckled, "They aren't too bad, some old money, some nouveau, I'm sure Jean will get some business.”
"No leering husbands or boyfriends?”
"Banished to the golf I think, so, what news?”
"Staedtler appears to be headed your way, looks like something may be going down.”
"And Grönberg?”
"Just arrived at his poker game.”
"Okay, I'll try to check in before I'm collected, best get back to the day job, more frocks to wear you know.”
"Such a hard life Bond.”

"I'll see you back in Paris then Gabrielle.”
"Oui Jean, thanks for the lift.”

I closed the door of Jean's hired SUV, not exactly a glamorous arrival to the quaint harbour but I left the Bugatti at the hotel this morning, well I may have a drink or two with dinner, and besides, it might give Jean's customers the wrong idea. I took a table at one of the dockside cafés and ordered coffee.

"Fraulein von Strechau?”

I'd seen him of course, isn't that what compacts are for, spying?

"Oh, you surprised me, Armand?”
"Oui Ma'mselle, if you'd like to follow, Mr Grönberg is waiting.”

That sounds a bit ominous. I slipped a fifty under my cup and followed Grönberg's lackey along the harbour to a speed boat crewed by a Nordic looking giant of a man, clearly more than ships crew. Armand helped me down the steps and onto the boat, heeled sandals are not ideal but I could hardly wear trainers to dinner. By the time I was seated, Armand had cast off and we were edging out of the harbour.

Speed boats, the wind in your hair, it all looks very glamorous in the films, reality can be somewhat different. First of all, by the time you reach twenty knots the damn boat is bouncing all over, you are liable to get drenched at any moment and loose hair gets whipped about resulting in a somewhat more casual look than you started with. Knowing all this I took precautions, a silk scarf protected my coiffure and a careful choice of seat kept me almost dry.

Grönberg's 'yacht' was anchored about a mile off shore, a sleek Sunseeker affair which had to be fifty metres long, definitely in the 'don't ask the price' bracket. The Viking slowed us to a crawl on the approach to bring us alongside where Armand supervised my transfer to the larger vessel. Once on board I was escorted upstairs to where my host was talking to the mysterious Staedtler whilst a bevy of swimsuit clad 'ladies', including last nights displaced 'date', lounged about on various loungers taking advantage of the early evening sunshine.

"Ah, Fraulein von Strechau,” Grönberg greeted noting our arrival.
"I thought we were past such formalities Edvard, its Gaby to my friends.”
"Well Gaby, welcome to the Limoncella.”

I cocked a brow, Limoncella, really?

"Ah, I see you like my little play on words, Werner here really doesn't get such subtlties. Oh sorry, Gaby, my cousin, Werner Staedtler, Werner, this is the Bugatti woman I mentioned, Gabrielle von Strechau.”
Staedtler stepped forward and in an almost caricature way greeted me with a handshake, "Fraulein von Strechau, a pleasure.”
"The pleasure is mine and please call me Gaby.”

There was a vague familial resemblance but overall Staedtler gave the impression of a darker, more serious individual, a man for whom outdoor pursuits was a walk to the car, clothing off the peg, hair by Short and Practical. There was no feeling behind the smile, yes, this was a product of the SSD inside and out, question is, just why is he here, on his cousin's palatial yacht.

Staedtler made his excuses soon after my arrival, leaving me with Edvard who was keen to show off his floating drinks cabinet. Four decks, five bedrooms – certainly not mere cabins, fully equipped galley complete with starred chef, dining room, sun decks – even a gym and jacuzzi. I didn't get to see everything, there had to be some sort of office and communications centre – a man like Grönberg couldn't afford to be cut off from the outside world.

The tender i'd come out on lived in a boathouse shared with a couple of jetskis aft of the engine room. I counted ten crew, with the four 'ladies', Staedtler, Grönberg and myself making seventeen on board, if you took out the bathing belles, the odds in any action would be stacked against me. This is just an intelligence gathering operation though, Staedtlers attendance was a bonus of course but I'm here because of Grönberg's taste in women and technology.

Grönberg was an attentive host but I sensed he had something on his mind.

"Would you like to freshen up before dinner?”
"It has been a busy day,” I agreed.
"Use the port stateroom, Werner has the other, have a lie down, take a shower if you like, I'll send Armand to fetch you when we are ready to eat.”
"Until later then.”

I descended the spiral staircase to the guest quarters, I could actually do with checking in with Max but first...

The door was locked but it was hardly worth the fitting, I slipped into the room and carefully closed the door behind me. Werner was clearly travelling light, only the attaché case on the dressing table and some papers on the bed suggesting the room might be occupied. Of course the case was locked, four digit combination, no time for that at the moment, I took pictures of the documents, some sort of blueprints, maybe Max will have some idea what and maybe a failsafe for opening the case. At this point in spy thrillers, the hero or heroine is always discovered, this evening would of course play to that plot, I heard a key in the lock.

"La, la, la!” I chirped, the water cascading over my head, rinsing the suds from my torso.
A hand reached into the shower and turned off the water, "What are you doing here!”
"Eek!”
"Who are you, why are you in this room,” Werner demanded.

I did my best to cover my nakedness.

"Edvard said I could use the port stateroom to freshen up,”
He was of course waving a handgun at me, "This is the starboard cabin.”
"Port is left right? I came down the stairs and this was the left door.”
He visibly relaxed and lowered his weapon, "You got turned around on the stairs, port is next door.”
"Oops, I er should go.”
"You don't have to.”
"I erm need to get dressed for dinner.”

He now looked more like his cousin as a look of amusement crossed his face. I quickly scooped up my clothing, did a quick wrap with the towel he offered and scampered from the room. Of course, just my luck that Minah, the girl from the restaurant, was coming out of her own accomodation as I crossed the walkway to 'my' room, if looks could kill, well i'd be severly bruised.

I sank onto the bed, that could've gone either way, thankfully, considering his Stasi background Werner Staedtler isn't very observant, I mean, what woman would shower with her jewellery on let alone drop her knickers in the shower. Well okay, the last bit does happen, I just hope Q's gadgets are waterproof. I was of course still a bit sudsy, I actually wanted a shower now, there was something unsettling about the exchange with Staedtler, I kinda felt a bit dirty.

Showered properly – without Q's toys, dried, dressed, I even found dry underwear in a draw, clean, dry and better than going commando. Next up, contact Max.

"Hmm, looks like some sort of arming device.”
"Why would Staedtler have them and why bring them to Grönberg's boat?”
"My guess is that he, they, are selling tech to someone in the middle east, Israel makes a good cover.”
"Not mobile phones I'm guessing.”
"I'll get these images to the Americans, see if they know more.”
"Okay.”
"And Bond, be careful.”
"I always am.”

I ended the connection moments before there was a rap on the door, Armand to fetch me for dinner.

"Coming.”

Maybe it gets a bit old, eating al fresco but whatever the reason, Armand led me to the interior dining room rather than the open deck above. I wasn't the last to arrive, Staedtler and my host arrived as the steward seated me at the table. The two men were talking quite urgently, at least Werner was talking, Edvard was listening, the conversation too low for me to make sense of.

"Enough Werner,” Grönberg snapped, "We'll finish this later, lets not keep the ladies waiting.”

They joined us at the table, an unusual group of dinner companions.

 
The food was excellent, Gaspacho soup followed by lamb steak and concluding with an orange sorbet. Minah was giving me dirty looks throughout and Werner was clearly quite agitated, it was no surprise when Edvard addressed us as the steward started clearing the table.

"Ladies, if you would excuse us for a few minutes, there is some urgent business Werner and I need to attend to, I'm sure you can entertain yourselves until we return.”

An interesting turn but not one I could do much with, at least for now. The two men departed, aparently toward the bridge.

"Who are you, Gabrielle von Strechau? I get dumped last night and today you are here making moves on the cousin,” Minah almost spat.

I looked around, the others had exited stage left, I could see them outside on the open deck.

"Me, I'm no one, I'm sorry about last night and what you saw earlier, I just made a mistake with the rooms.”
"Likely story.”
"Its true, so how come you are on this gin palace? You don't strike me as the courtesan type.”
"A girl has to make a living, some stuff doesn't add up with you though, even I know that fancy car of yours cost mega dollars, you either ain't who you say or you have quite some sugar daddy.”
"The cars a loaner, from a friend, he wanted it in Venice so I got to drive it down.”
"This ain't Venice girlfriend.”

No shit Sherlock.

"I needed to be on Crete for work, I'll drop it off on my way back. So just what is a girl from Georgia doing on this tub in the Med? you never said.”
"Thats for me to know sugah, why all the questions?”
"Just curious.”
"If you has any sense, you'll not be too curious aroun' here, if ya gets ma drift.”
"Oh I get the message, don't worry I won't get in your way, I'll be out of your hair in a couple of hours. If you'll excuse me, I need to powder my nose.”

There's something not quite kosher about Minah, maybe I'm not the only one with a hidden agenda.

I cautiously climbed upstairs, there is indeed a toilet up here but its also the direction Grönberg and Staedtler had headed a few minutes ago. There were voices coming from the rear salon, a heated discussion in fact, not just the cousins but another voice too. I'm pretty sure whatever they are arguing about is the intel I'm after but there was nowhere to safely eavesdrop, at any moment one of them could look my way and I'll lose my chance, now then, what did Q say about these earrings?

"Ah, there it is!”
"Gabrielle, what are you doing up here,” Grönberg asked.
"Looking for this,” I dangled the earring i'd just scooped from the floor.
"Are you sure she's who she claims,” Werner opined, "I found her in my room earlier.”
"I got turned around.”
"Once is maybe a mistake, twice I think is more coincidence and I don't like coincidence, lets see that earring.”

if theres one thing you learn in this line of business its to be prepared, any hesitation can send things to poo real fast and could prove to be terminal. I dropped the gaudy earring into his waiting hand.

"So why were you and your wayward earring up here?” Edvard queried.
"Me, looking for my earring, the earring, I guess I lost it when you were giving me the tour earlier.”
"Well?” Grönberg prompted.
"It looks genuine, one way to make sure though,” he dropped it to the floor and brought his heel down heavily, shattering the faux gem stone.
"Hey! I know it was only paste but it was my paste!”
"I'm sorry Gabrielle, Werner is a little jumpy this evening, I'll make it up to you, come, lets join the others.”

Damn that was close, I slipped the remaining earring off and dropped it into my clutch.

"I insist,” Edvard stated, "Its late to be out on the water, Armand will take you back in the morning.”

Its not like I had a choice, short of taking myself I wasn't leaving the Limoncella tonight, and that is my last option if things go south. If they do have any suspicions still its an effective way of keeping me in check or maybe I'm just being paranoid.

"Okay, I'll stay.”
"Now we have that settled I think its time for the Cognac.”

"Bond, what the hell's going on?” Max squarked in my ear.

My host had kept me talking until almost one, Staedtler was long retired, Minah and co lasting till after midnight before calling it a day. I had expected Edvard to insist I joined him in the master suite but instead he claimed a business call to the West Coast so I was back in 'my' stateroom downstairs.

"Slight change of plan, having a sleepover, I'll be back in Heraklion in the morning.”
"Not from there you won't.”
"What do you mean, not from there.”
"You've been sailing east for the last three hours.”
"I have?” I paused, I hadn't noticed before, the barely discernable thrum of the engines, "Oh bugger. Where are you?”
"Fishing boat about an hour behind you.”

Well at least I have some sort of backup.

"Look i've got some intel for you, I'll send it over now.”
"Okay and please Gaby, be careful.”
"You know me.”
"That's what I'm afraid of.”

 
Maddy Bell © 20.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
There was no sense in fretting over this latest development, unless I need to break cover, I'm a slightly ditzy fashion house mannequin who, at this moment, needs some shut eye if she's going to be able to function in the morning. I touched the bauble hanging from my navel, not the sort of thing a 00 normally wears but as it contains the tracker I'll let it go this time, anyhow, thanks Q. It didn't take long to shuck my clothing and climb into the bed, light out, I was soon in the land of z's.

Attracted by the sound of voices and smell of coffee, I made my way to the aft deck where breakfast was apparently being served, Grönberg and Staedtler both sat with bikini clad girls on their laps, the latter clearly a bit uncomfortable with that arrangement. The other girls were filling plates from the buffet similarly attired – why not, even at eight in the morning it was comfortably warm. If anything I felt a bit overdressed even if i was only in my underwear and a bathrobe.

"Good morning Gabrielle,” Edvard greeted, "I trust you slept well.”
"Er fine thanks.”
"Come, join us, I always think that breakfast is the most important meal of the day, after all, you don't know when, or if, you'll get to eat again.”

Was that some sort of threat? Have I been compromised.

"Thank you, a sound philosophy.”

I collected a plate of scrambled egg and thinly sliced salmon and joined the others at the table.

"We've left Crete?”
"Some unexpected business I'm afraid, don't worry, we'll get you back to your Veyron.”
"So where are we?” I queried pouring myself some juice.
He checked his watch, an ostentatious Breitling, "We should be off Tel Aviv in a couple of hours.”
"Israel?”
"Like I said, business.”

It wasn't exactly news to me, Max had woken me a couple of hours ago with not just our position but a change of orders too. Apparently it wasn't going down as it first appeared, the cousins Grimm were the buyers not the sellers, the tech on the drawings what amounted to a miniaturised Rail gun. The worry now that this was up for sale and as intriguing, just who is selling it? My simple intel gathering foray has turned into a full on double O capture/destroy mission.

Staedtler was getting a bit agitated, "Edvard!”
"Oh calm yourself Werner, everything will be fine, don't you think fraulein?”
"I'm sure they will,” I agreed.
"Our business won't take long perhaps Gaby can join these lovelies on the sun deck? I promise that we'll get lunch ashore before heading back to Crete.”
"I feel a bit overdressed for sunbathing.”
"Oh I'm sure the girls can find you something... more suitable, Minah?”
"I have just the thing,” she smirked.

Ot oh, that doesn't sound so good.

"Well that's that decided, Armand, please look after the ladies, Werner, come, our other guests will be arriving shortly.”

The two men departed leaving me alone with Minah and her 'friends' oh, and our minder Armand.

"This should fit you,” Minah grinned.
I looked at the scraps of cloth she handed to me, "Not much of it.”
"It does its job.”
"Er thanks for the loan.”
"My pleasure,” she smirked.

There is swimwear and then there is 'swimwear', the former you might use for actually swimming or at least getting wet, the latter is more akin to lingerie, what I was now wearing, almost, was definitely in the latter category. Don't get the wrong idea, I look good in a bikini and unlike those wraithlike sticks modeling on the worlds catwalks, I can actually get a tan, no lines of course. To say I felt exposed would be putting it mildly, the top covered just about enough but the matching pants, well they'd be blushing on Copacobana, its a good job I got a Brazilian last week.
 

By the time I reached the sun deck, above the bridge, Tel Aviv was visible through the haze, between the Limoncella and the coast, what looked like the yachts tender was bouncing across the blue waters of the Med.

"You'll see that closer later,” Minah stated, "Get that wrap off, these rays don't wait for anyone.”

One thing i've learnt modelling clothes – well and working for Six, is to not show my emotions, internally I was thinking that my mother would disown me if she saw me, on the outside I put on a smile and casually dropped my robe, at least I still have my sunglasses. I took a glass of whatever it was that stood on the table, hmm, margarita, bit early, but when in Rome, then made myself comfortable on one of the recliners. From this vantage I could see the coast, the approaching speed boat and Armand effectively blocking the stairway to the rest of the vessel.

The sunglasses and a magazine provided cover for my thoughts, thoughts on how to solve this conundrum, made no easier by what I wasn't wearing. Act too soon and half the players escape, too late, ditto, no, timing is everything, a plan was forming in the old grey matter, is it a good plan? Well only time will tell.

Of course, my plan was blown out of the water moments later, almost literally. I'd assumed that the 'guests' would be arriving on the speed boat, not on the stonking great submarine that rose from the water just metres from the Limoncella. Well that answered one question, if the small white and green flag next to the Middle Eastern script on the turret was anything to go by, its the Pakistani's selling tech – a new world order is certainly emerging.

My fellow sunbathers paid the arrival scant notice, that seemed like a good idea to me, a couple of men in a speedboat is one thing, a fully crewed nuclear submarine is another matter! I've still got a mission to complete of course but maybe I need a different approach, a bigger diversion for sure.

"Armand,” I mooched, making my way to where our 'guard' was stationed by the stairs, "I need to use the little girls room, I'm afraid that Avocado has gone straight through me.”

Okay, I'm not being subtle here, quite graphic in fact but I needed to move things along.

"Mr Grönberg would prefer that you stay up here.”
"I'm sure he wouldn't want one of his guests embarrased by what is becoming quite imminent, let alone having to clean the deck afterwards.”
"Armand, stop being a dick, let her go, or I think I know who'll be clearing the mess,” Minah suggested from under the roofed area, hmm, an ally of sorts.
The cogs were whirring but he came to a decision, "The rest of you, stay here, you,” he addressed me, "Come with me.”

Well its not the best outcome but I can work with it. I started down the stairs, Armand at my heel, all ten centimetres of them.

"This way,” whilst I would've gone straight through the salon, he steered me instead along the port side companionway, hmm, what am I not supposed to see?

I thought we'd go directly into the wheelhouse but instead he took me all the way around to starboard before entering, neatly avoiding the salon's interior door.

"Don't be all day.”
"These things have their own timetable,” I pointed out as I slipped into the confines of the toilet.
"Hmmph!”
 

I did make use of the facilities, just a wee, well as Mum always says, you don't know when the next opportunity will be. I readjusted the tiny thong, I mean, who designs this stuff, Monsieur Coupárd would have caniptions, but I digress, 'dressed' I set about my diversion.

"How much longer?” Armand demanded from beyond the door.
"Not much,” I called back, "Just cleaning up.”

I clipped the covers back over the valise screws, counted to ten and turned on the faucet.
"Aargh!”

I flung the door open and leapt through ahead of a roiling cloud of steam.

"What the...” Armand managed before stepping towards the door.

He didn't get beyond that, the fire extinguisher made short work of rendering him unconscious. Of course, the noise attracted attention in very short order, the Captain and Mate both arriving from the wheelhouse in seconds.

"What happened?”
"I turned on the tap and it just exploded and then Armand tripped and hit his head,” I got out in a semi hysterical garble – that time at RADA has come in useful a few times over the years.
"Davis, get someone up here to sort this, now!”
"Yes Captain.”

The Mate dived back into the wheelhouse, the Captain stooped to recover the comatose Armand and I slipped downstairs to the main deck, momentarially forgotten.

I paused by the lower salon's double door entry.

"A pleasure doing business with you Mr Grönberg, Herr Staedtler.”
"And with you Captain.”

Damn, they've already completed the deal, oh well. I slipped my heels off and wiggled inside.

"Edvard, how much longer, you said we could go to lunch.”

The arrival of an almost naked woman in their midst had a devasting effect, vis all eyes in the room focused on me. I did a quick count, Staedtler, Grönberg, two of the crew brandishing sub machine guns, the Pakistani Captain and four clearly armed ratings. I've had worse odds but i've usually had more firepower than a G string and a pair of sandals.

Time seemed to pass in slow motion, tick...tick...tick. I took in a deep breath to calm myself before my internal soundtrack burst into life.

'She keeps her Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet
"Let them eat cake", she says
Just like Marie Antoinette
A built-in remedy
For Khrushchev and Kennedy
At anytime an invitation
You can't decline'

'She's a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, gelatine
Dynamite with a laser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime'

I burst into action, the spell broken as I grabbed the Armorlite case on the table, swinging it around to take out the Captain.

"Get her!” Grönberg yelled.
"Alive,” Staedtler added making a grab toward me.

I needed to move things along – and quickly. Luckily for me a fifty kilo woman in a bikini can move around a lot easier than ninety kilo men encumbered with firepower in a fairly confined space. A well placed foot reduced one of the sailors ability to function which also furnished me with a ballistic weapon.

The seeds of confusion were sown, the naval types weren't going for me, but rather for my erstwhile host, they seemed to think this was some sort of double cross.

"Who are you?” Staedtler spat as I relieved him of a pistol by dint of breaking his wrist with another deft kick.
I swung the case, "Bond, Gaby Bond, licensed to kill.”

Well that was another one down but I really need to get out of here. My pursuers were regrouping, I launched my sandals at them, no one likes a stiletto in the face afterall. It was enough to give me the space to get back out into the yachts central stairwell just in time to meet the mate and Captain descending from the the wheelhouse.

"Stop her!” Grönberg ordered.

Hmm, rock, hardplace. Before I could act, the newcomers tumbled forward followed by a fire extinguisher, huh?

"Get out of here, go!” Minah told me with a smirk.

There was no time to exchange pleasantries, I followed the advice and headed outside. Reminder to self, when I design my own yacht, put stairs inside to reach the jacuzzi and tender. I reached the rear of the salon just as some bright spark shot the panoramic window out of the dining room, it was pretty spectacular, not that I stopped to watch.

Down to the aft deck then more steps to the docking bay.

"What's going on?” the rating asked as I appeared in front of him.
"Doublecross, they've killed your Captain.”
"You really should get some clothes on miss.”

Tell me about it. He headed up, I ran around to the 'boathouse', pausing only to dog the door behind me. Well so far, so good I guess. Of course, the powerboat was out already, the hull door conveniently open and there, my means of escape but before that, I need to disable the Limoncella.

I wasn't too keen on remaining barefoot but I spotted some deck shoes on top of a locker, okay, a bit big but better than nothing. Outside there was sporadic gunfire, time really is of the essence, I opened the engine room door and did the quickest sabotage I could, a couple of rounds into the computerised control unit. The door wasn't going to keep them out forever, time to make serious tracks, one more job though.

I hit the starter, the jet ski burst into life, a twist of the accelerator and I shot out into the open, the whirring of the Railgun charging rising all the time. Automatic fire sprayed the waters around me as I kinked past the submarine, some of which was a bit close for comfort.

Ziiinnnnggg – Boom!

There was a bright flash then a wall of percussion overtook me, nearly unseating me from my ride. I looked behind, the conning tower of the submarine was now but a ragged stump, it might still be afloat but it certainly won't be diving anytime soon. Okay, I'm off the yacht, what now?

More gunfire reminded me that I wasn't out of the woods yet, that damned powerboat was heading towards me at full tilt. The shore, Tel Aviv, its my best chance. First lets see about that powerboat, I made a sharp one eighty back towards the wasps nest i've created.

Someone in the pursuing boat was either a good shot or very lucky, despite my twisting course a single round nicked the jetskis fuel tank, a second lucky strike and I'll be toast. Okay, switch to plan, er, C. I took aim and hit the throttle, the bow of the smouldering sub providing a nice launch pad, the 'ski became airborn as did the powerboat just metres behind.

The difference was that I knew what was going to happen next, I leapt clear as the jetski descended into the remains of the conning tower, the powerboat looked set to clear the carnage except it was caught in a gout of flame from the exploding impact below. I bobbed about a bit as wreckage rained from the sky then set off for the shore about a mile away.

Beep, beep, beep, beeep!

"There you are Bond!”

I tilted my sunglasses to see Max doing a very good impression of 'an Englishman abroad', rolled up trousers, crumpled shirt, he was just missing the knotted hanky. It was almost comical, around him the beach was full of semi naked women, mothers, fathers, children, all enjoying the Mediterranean sunshine.

"Max., how'd you find me?”
 
Maddy Bell © 22.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"Max, Max....Maax.”

I know they say you shouldn't mix business with pleasure but sometimes, well a girl has needs you know and technically we aren't working now.

There are of course some loose ends but my job is done, the tech is neutralised, Grönberg and his cousin detained, as for the Pakistani submarine, well I'm sure the diplomats will unravel that little conundrum. Of course there is more, just who is Minah, will I get my borrowed frock back and how do I fly back to London without getting arrested.

But all that can wait, "A little lower Max.”

Something was nudging me, no not that, more like a light push.

"Miss, miss, we're coming in to land, you need to do up your seatbelt.”

Land, seatbelt?

"This'll do it,” another voice opined a moment before I felt a sharp pain on my ear.
"Ow!”
“'bout time Bond.”
"M?”
"What?”
I cracked an eye as I rubbed my ear, "Did you have to pinch that hard?”
"We've been trying to wake you for like ten minutes, must've been some dream.”
"Dream?”
"Well you kept mumbling and you nearly knocked my sandwich out of my hand when I offered you some.”

The engines changed in tone moments before a light jolt and the sensation of being thrown forward suggested we were back on terra firma.
 

I was still a bit disorientated leaving the plane, that was some dream and I missed the food. Food, i've not eaten since that scrambled egg on the yacht. What am I thinking, that wasn't real, none of that was real, Grönberg's yacht, the Bugatti – hey I never got to try the cloaking de...vice – stupid girl, it wasn't real, none of it. And I really liked that frock and apparently being ten centimetres taller.

By the time we cleared immigration and collected our bags, my head had just about come to terms with me not being Gabrielle Bond, double three and two thirds, and my stomach was rumbling.

"We eating before we leave?”
"You only just ate on the flight,” Dad suggested.
"She slept through it Mr B,” Mand told him.
"Gaby slept through food?” Tal exclaimed, "Can't be our girl, she eats in her sleep.”

Well in my dreams anyway.

"Ah wouldn'a mind a boorga or something,” Josh put in.
Dad looked at his watch, "Hmm, well I guess we've got time for coffee.”

 
My idea of time and Dad's are clearly different, he set off to rescue our transport while I was still feeding pommes into my face.

"Must've been a good dream,” Gret stated, "You were asleep for like vier stunde.”
"It was, er okay,” I allowed.
"Bet she was dreaming about Max,” Tal mentioned.
"Was not,” I replied however the colour rising in my cheeks gave me away.
"You so were,” de Vreen crowed.
"Well he did sort of crop up once or twice.”
"Gaby Bond, you hussey.”
"It wasn't just, that sort of stuff.”
"She doth protestest too much,” Mand giggled.
"What did you get up to in dreamland,” Gret queried.

You wouldn't believe me if I told you, blowing up secret laboratories, driving fantastic cars, bashing the bad boys on a luxury yacht, gott, they'd think I was crazy. Maybe I am.

"You know, this and that.”

Its not a long way from Frankfurt Airport back to the Ahrtal, after my four hour snooze on the plane, even with the time difference I was still wide awake when we pulled up, not at home but at the Sebenschuh's place in Rech. Dad's idea, not mine, not that I'm arguing, we won't have a great deal indoors to feed six, its not like we could stop at the Penny to stock up, its Sunday and its Germany, nothing's open.

"Someone caught the sun,” Pia observed.

Okay, I know it might be a bit rude to abandon the others but I have just spent the last week with them, I haven't seen P for, well longer than that.

"Bit difficult not to.”
"Well it rained nearly all week here, we haven't exactly been swanning round in bikinis.”
"We were riding up and down mountains every day.”
"Hmmph, so you seen Max?”
"How would I see Max? We've come straight here, is there something I should know?”
"I'm sure he'll tell you himself.”
"Come on P, what is it?”
"His Gran's been taken ill.”
"The Baroness?”
"Uh huh.”
"I'd best ring him.”

Okay, so she's a bit cantankerous and definitely manipulative but she's been alright to me and I'm pretty sure she's my anonymous benefactor with the whole designer frocks thing. She might not be my favourite person but I wouldn't wish her any harm.

"Here, you can take these, save my legs.”
"Do you treat all the customers like this?”
"Only the ones I like,” she returned with a giggle.

 
It was a bit of a zoo when we got back to Bond Acres, Josh and the girls were catching trains Monday morning so Gret and Tal were sharing my sisters room, Josh was camping in the Hymer. By the time everything was organised it was late evening, after my in flight nap I don't think my early night excuse was believed but anyhow I made my excuse and headed up to my eyrie.

"Heya.”
"Gabs,” Max replied, "You back then?”
"Yeah, 'bout tea time, I woulda rung earlier but Gret and Tal are here.”
"The girls from your team?”
"Yeah, so what's this about your Gran, is she okay?”
"Oh she'll be fine, fell out of bed, lots of bruises, sprained wrist.”
"When was this?”
"Thursday.”
"Thursday? Why didn't you tell me before?”
"What for? its not like you could do anything is it.”
"I know, but even so. She at home? I should send flowers or something.”
"Not more flowers, the place is full of the flippin' things and she's not even here!”
"So she at the Klinik in Ahrweiler then?”
"As if, no its a private place just outside Altenahr.”
"That place up on the hill? I thought that was some sort of retirement place.”
"Maybe if you have long pockets, think she's coming back here Tuesday. But no more flowers Gab, please?”
"Fine, I'll get her some chocolates in the Galeria tomorrow.”

"So you have a good flight and stuff?”
"What I remember of it.”
"Whats that supposed to mean?”
"Well I slept most of the way back,” I admitted.
"I can never sleep when we fly.”
"We er had a bit of a party last night, I was well mashed this morning.”

The call then descended into, well you know, sloppy stuff before we ended the exchange – lets face it, we'll see each other in person in about nine hours.

"Ah, there you are Bond,” M stated, not looking up from the sheaf of papers she was shuffling.
"Here I am,” I agreed.
"Sit.”

Ot oh, thats nearly as bad as Mum calling me Gabrielle Andrea. I took a seat and waited for the rock to drop.

"Rash, dangerous, stupid, the Foreign Office censored the rest of the memo, I won't even attempt to repeat what the Israelis said.”
"I've been called worse.”
"There have been calls for your head Bond, what if the submarine had exploded, half the Med could've been contaminated.”
"Which is why I aimed at the tower,” I pointed out.
"You cause me more headaches than the rest of the 00's put together.”
"That shows how effective I am,” I grinned, "You'd miss me if I left.”
She raised a brow in exasperation, "And Q would like his car back.”
"If i'd seen it i'd tell him, isn't it still on Crete? Surely he knows where it is.”
"He wouldn't be asking if he did would he Bond?”
"If I see it, I'll let him know, that all?”
M sighed deeply, "For now.”
"Excellent, i've got a table booked at The Ivy in thirty minutes.”
"Don't let me detain you.”

Max was waiting for me down in the basement garage.

"All sorted?”
"Storm in a tea cup.”
"Where to?”
"The Ivy, I rather fancy liver and bacon roll today.”

There was a tiny chirp and the Bugatti's door popped open, a hole into another dimension. After helping me in, my companion got in himself and started her up, it was great fun going through central London, a space that the other traffic couldn't work how to get into. Oh I'll let Q have his toy back – when I can see it, I never said I didn't know where it was.

"Gaby! Are you going to college today or what,” Dad bellowed up to my nest.
"Minute.”

I lay there staring at the ceiling through my eyelids, geez, I should keep off the cheese if thats the sort of dream I get – or maybe eat more, yeah, Bond, Gaby Bond MI6, licensed to really annoy everyone.

"So I'll see you guys in a couple of weeks?”
"Aye hen,” Josh agreed around his cornflakes, "We'll be ready.”
"Have a good trip back to Hamburg.”
"Enjoy college, tell Max hello,” Gret told me.
"I will, tschuss.”
"Tschuss,” they echoed back.

 
Maddy Bell © 28.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
I pulled my jacket a bit tighter, whilst its not frosty or snowing or anything like that, after a week of wall to wall sunshine on Tenerife even the light breeze blowing up the Ahrtal felt like an Arctic gale. I was just starting to rue my wardrobe choice, denim miniskirt and fifteen dee hose, when a car horn sounded, disrupting my thoughts. A quick glance up the road confirmed my expectation, Olaf's Polo, sounding a little cholicky this morning, was making its final approach to my kerbside location.

"Morning guys,” I greeted once I had the door open, "Bit parky this morning.”
"Mornin',” our chauffeur allowed.
"Didn't think it was bad,” Max opined.
I pushed my bag into his arms, "Here, do something useful.”
"Thats telling you Strech,” Freddy smirked.
"Ready?” Olaf enquired over his shoulder.
The door was shut and i'd found the end of the seatbelt, "Yep,” I confirmed, clicking the buckle closed.

 
Olaf put the car in gear and we were on our way, the familiar roads of the valley taking us through a landscape muted to shades of grey under overcast skies, a far cry from the last week on an Atlantic island. The lads picked up their conversation, something about kickball, which left me to my own thoughts broken only by the chirping of my Handy.

"Bond.”
"Erdbeere?”
"Stefan, everything okay?”
"Fine, fine, look, me an' the guys, we've put together a play list, you know for the Tour, and we thought we ought to get your input.”
"Er sure.”
“'kay, I'll send an SMS.”
"You could email it, I could add notes and send it back then,” I suggested.
"Computers, not my strong point, I'll talk to Animal, he's into all that stuff.”
"I'll send you my email then.”
"Okay, so you looking forward to it?”
"Not quite sure I describe it that way, petrified more like.”
"You survived Moselfest and the Bonn showcase.”
"I guess but people were there to see other bands too, not just us, this tour, its all on us, well you guys really, I'm just decoration.”

His sharp reply caught me off guard, "You are not 'just' anything, I'll admit it doesn't do the band any harm having a pretty girl up front, our rep soared when you joined us, we wouldn't've got this tour without you, like they say, sex sells and the promoters know that. But its not just that, you've brought something to BlauHase that we didn't have before, I dunno, a vitality that we were lacking before, don't put your contribution down, you are integral to the bands success. Have to go, the boss is looking for me, tschuss.”
"Tschuss.”

"That sounded a bit involved?” Max suggested when I ended the call.
"Not really, just some stuff for the tour, the lads have put together a play list, they want my input.”

Von Strechau had a look that screamed 'i don't believe that' but said nothing, Freddy dragging him back into the sport conversation, now apparently moved from kickball to tennis.

My mind drifted back to the conversation, the music business really is dominated by men – oh I know there are lots of women singers out there, some very successful, but away from the mainstream pop and country stuff, the fairer sex become increasingly rarer, in the more rocky genres there is virtually a complete manoculture, women at best getting bit parts, I couldn't think of a single female led band competing in 'our' genre – well Nena is sort of on the poppy edge and Nina is more on the punk side of things.
 
"You'd think they'd get this sorted,” Freddy complained from his shotgun seat.

His exclamation broke my musing, a glance beyond the glass revealed we were on the 'old' road that will, roadworks and traffic lights allowing, take us over the Mosel and into central Koblenz. The reason for the roadworks? Well they are upgrading the road with a new junction to serve the big box estate being built, Koblenz will soon have a new out of town shopping park complete with an IKEA store which is due to open in the spring – lets hope they finish the roads by then.

"Isn't this your department Olaf?” I queried.
"No, this comes under the City Roads thankfully.”
"Maybe they should've built the IKEA in Altenahr,” Freddy chuckled.
"Pur-lease,” Olaf groaned.
"I don't get what all the fuss is about, its only a furniture store,” Max stated.

To be honest, the couple of times i've been to one i've thought they were a bit of a pain, making everyone go through all the departments like they do. On the other hand some of the stuff is quite nice and the meatballs – well what can I say? Maybe I should ask Lisbet if there's some recipe for success hidden inside the blue and yellow boxes.

We shuffled along in the queue of commuters, the half kilometre through the construction site increasing our journey time by over ten minutes. The traffic was no better once we were through, a breakdown on the Europabrück adding to the frayed tempers of Monday morning. It was actually a relief to get into the city streets, at least its only traffic lights on a fixed sequence interfering with progress.

"See you tomorrow Olaf,” I called into the car before closing the door a couple of minutes later.
"Have a good day guys,” he offered in return through his brothers still open door.
"You too.”
 
"We meeting for the train back?” I enquired as we headed away from the government buildings.
"Hopefully,” Max replied before adding in a whisper, "We've got some catching up to do.”
"Have we indeed?”

I had a flash of dream memory, "Max, Max....Maax, a little lower Max.”, hmm, I think I could live with a bit of 'catching up' myself.

"Usual place?” I enquired turning to look up at him as we walked.
"Yeah, I'll call if not.”
"You'd better.”
"Geez guys, you are like an old Mama und Papa,” Freddy told us.

Of course, even seventeen year old lads who are supposed to be mature see such statements as a red rag to a bull, all thoughts of actually smearing my lip gloss were forgotten as Max took off in pursuit of his friend. Oh well, later maybe, bye Max.

 
"Well I hope you all had a good break,” Lisbet greeted, perching herself on the edge of a table. "We'll have a general discussion re your placement experiences then after coffee we'll talk about whats happening in the coming semester. So, Heidi, how did it go at Der Anker?”

I won't bore you with too much detail, each of my fellow students gave a synopsis of their work placements, when it came to my turn, they got an over view of what was going on with Connie's Kabin. Not very exciting I'm afraid.

"So you adjusted your staffing and opening in line with perceived demand?”
I shrugged, "We don't have much reserve, paying out wages with no income would eat through what we have in a couple of weeks.”
"What do your staff think of that?”

Good question, Kristen is our only 'full time' employee, the slack being taken up by Mrs T, Nena and part timers from the bakery doing a few shifts. Kris hasn't really said much about our 'winter' opening strategy and Nena does a bit of 'office work' for her Papa so she's not reliant on the reduced Kabin income.

"They haven't said specifically, but we've not been secretive about the finances so they know why we cut the opening.”
"You mentioned your reserve, without getting too specific can you explain how that works?”
"I'll try, so the owners, the Thesings, have a successful business, the Kabin is run on the same principals, after all the overheads and wages are paid out, any trading surplus goes fifty fifty towards repaying the startup costs and into the reserve fund.”
"You have a timetable for the repayments?”
"Its not fixed, its a percentage of the income.”
"Okay, but you have expectations of when the loan will be paid off?”
"Like I said, its a moving target but hopefully we should be clear early summer.”
"So you'll be potentially in profit then?”
"Potentially, its only a snack cabin so any profits will be small.”
"And the reserve, what is that for?” Lisbet queried.
"Well at the moment, all our equipment is new and under warranties, there's the odd broken plate and we lose a bit of cutlery but nothing major. The reserve is there so we can buy replacement equipment down the line, cover any 'unusual' expenses, without having to borrow.”
"So its a long term strategy?”
"It should give us a firm financial footing going forward.”

"Okay, anyone have any questions from what Gaby has just told us?”
"Are there plans for expansion?” Hermann asked.
"Er not directly, if an opportunity came up we might consider it but at the moment we just want to consolidate Connie's Kabin into a solid business.”
"You could start a chain of Imbiss,” Heidi suggested.
"Maybe in the future I guess, when we've got a bit more experience.”

"Any more?” our tutor asked, "No, okay, thank you Gaby, sorry for putting you on the spot like that. So, some interesting points there but of course thats just one business model, it wouldn't neccesarily work in all situations or be appropriate for some businesses. We'll take a break now, when we come back I'll explain how your placement experiences slot into the next module. Back here at, lets see, ten fifty.”

 
I don't want to get a reputation as 'teachers pet' but given a choice between vending machine coffee and the decent stuff in Fr. Olafsdottir's office, well its no contest.

"Sorry for dropping that on you back there, I didn't mean to embarrass you but you've got hands on experience that the others don't.”
"Thats okay, we probably should think about the implications of stuff on the staff more.”
"Good communication is always an asset in business Gaby, you don't need to divulge exact finances but keeping the staff inside the loop makes them feel a part of the business rather than just an accesory. If they are involved they are much more likely to get behind your decisions.”
"I guess,” I agreed.
"They should be an asset to the business, not an after thought, perhaps use some of that reserve on training, qualifications, make working for your business a career move. But enough of my pontificating, so how was your training, you've certainly caught the sun.”
I shrugged, "Okay I guess, certainly warmer than here.”
"All ready to defend your titles then?”
I handed Lisbet the fresh coffee, "Its a long season.”
"Do I note some hesitancy there?”
"Lets just say there are expectations, its my last year as a junior, if I want to progress I need to be on top of my game.”
"But there are other distractions?”
"Well yeah,” I admitted.
"And you are torn over what to do?”
"Its like the singing, i've commited to doing this tour thing in a couple of weeks, what if its really succesful?”
"You're afraid things could snowball?”
"Yeah.”

She took a draught of her coffee, "I've not known you that long Gaby but you've always come across as level headed with a determination to succeed whether in your sport, the Kabin or your singing career. I'm sure that you'll succeed in whatever career path you decide to follow, I won't try to advise you on that, its not my place, I'm not even sure what I would do in your place, thats for you to decide.

Some people have one set career goal, to be a fireman, drive the Zug, take over the family business. Others go through life with no set plan, maybe circumstances affect things, family perhaps, maybe they grab what opportunity throws their way. Then there are the lucky few who get multiple bites of the apple, everything they do turns to gold, maybe they are just born lucky, who knows.

What you make of this life is largely down to you though, the fixed career person may fail in its pursuit, just because you want to do something doesn't mean its the right career for you, similarly the opportunist may inadvertently miss their perfect job through lack of focus.

You, Fraulein Bond, are in that tiny percentage of multi achievers, if you took up hairdressing you'd be at the top of the field, you excel because thats who you are. Life is rarely black and white, nor should your choice of career be this or that. Your parents, are they doing their dream jobs? what they trained for? what they thought they'd be doing with their lives?”

"I guess not.”

I've no idea what Dad's career plans were, I mean he's got a degree in Archaeology but I can only remember him working at the timber yard before taking on the Apollinaris DS job when we moved to Germany. And Mum, well she's a geography teacher, or was before swapping the classroom for the tarmac, so I guess she's grabbed her chance to do what she always hoped for.

"So what did you want to do at my age?”
"Me, this doesn't leave the room okay?”
"Er sure, my lips are sealed.”
"I always dreamt of being a professional skater, from maybe ten years it was my whole life, I was at the rink every day practicing, nothing else mattered.”
"I've a friend like that, Jess she skates for GB. So what happened?”
"Well training will take you so far, I was a good skater, top ten in the German championships, what I didn't have was the extra something, the flair that lifts you from journeyman to master craftsman. I kept at it, always not quite good enough, until I was twenty.”
"What changed?”
"Fate, I was trying for a triple salco, you know the spins? I landed badly, broke my leg and that was that, ten years of my life, my dreams over just like that. Afterwards I tried coaching but as a frustrated skater I was a terrible teacher, I ended up in a lot of dead end jobs.”
"But you're here now,” I pointed out.
"Indeed, well one of those dead end jobs turned out to be not so dead end, I started as a sort of general office secretary but I moved up to office manager then a department head, eventually on to the board.”
"So how come you are teaching us rabble?”
"Good question, i'd like to say it was a calling but the truth is my company was taken over, there was no place for me in the new set up so I was let go. A friend was on the faculty here, got me a gig as a part time lecturer and here we are.”

"Well I'm a terrible skater, just ask Jess!”
"It wasn't intended as career advice. Come on, you can bring your coffee, don't want to be late back to class.”
 

"So, split yourselves into four groups of four, Gaby you'll be floating so if you can come up to the front for now. Once you're settled I'll come round with the profiles.”

Oh joy is me. So the project is a sort of competition, each 'team' will be setting up and running a virtual business, each week there will be a new challenge, at the end of the semester the 'winners' will be decided not neccesarily on any profits but by how they reached that point. Apparently, due to my 'experience', the teams can call on me for advice, sort of bought in expertise, thanks Lisbet.

 
My stomach had a bit of a rumble, i've only had a cup of coffee since breakfast and its nearly one o'clock now. Normally we'd be finished with Lisbet about twelve but sorting out the 'businesses' for the semester project ran over somewhat – I could hardly walk out just because I was hungry, could I? There's no afternoon session on Mondays for our course, the rest were going to hash out their business plans but being supranumerical I was able to escape that.

No messages from Max so I guess we're riding home together but that leaves me with time to kill. The earlier greyness had been replaced by weak sunshine whilst i'd been in the college building, not Canaries warm but I wasn't freezing so rather than going into town I headed towards the river. Its only a couple of minutes down to the Rhein promenade and being before Easter it was pretty deserted, the pollarded Linden trees still bereft of leaves only the main KD office showing any signs of life.

Across the swirling brown waters Ehrenbreitstein Fortress almost glowed above the village, dominating the views of the far bank. I turned towards the Deutches Eck, the huge monument at the Mosel / Rhein confluence just visible through the bare trees. There's talk of building a Seilbahn, you know, cable car, from over here to the fortress which would be pretty cool but whether it'll ever happen, goodness knows.

Its not a long way from Konrad-Adenauer-Ufer along to the Eck and the smells wafting from the takeaways prompted another gastric growl. Okay, so i've been heading that way for that purpose all the time, Kat would have a hairy fit but one Bratwürst isn't gonna make any odds is it? There were a few people sat about enjoying the weak sunshine with their lunch but there were empty tables...

"Eine Bratwürst mit pommes bitte.”
"Sose?”
"Mayo danke”
"Getränke?”
"Er, heisse shokolade...mit crème.”
"Sechts dreizehn.”

Its lunch okay, I bet you'd have the same, at least its not schnitzel or pizza – tempting though they were. I made myself comfortable, well as comfortable as a folding wooden seat gets, with my chocolate, the food arriving a couple of minutes after. It may not be the African heat of Tenerife but sat watching the sparrows fighting over crumbs, picking at my frites I was at one with the world.

Yeah, back to life, back to reality, despite the chat with Lisbet earlier I'm still no closer to a solution to my career, no life map. Some of my friends have everything neatly planned from family planning to grave, others will have life dictated by family obligations as much as their own choices. But little ol' me, I have choices, I just don't have any clue as to which are the 'right' choices – or even if there are any right choices.

 
Maddy Bell © 29.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
I finished my lunch and still having over an hour before I was supposed to meet Max for the train journey north, I headed not towards the Altstadt but instead the short way to the 'Eck. What the compulsion is, I don't know but I found myself climbing the oversize steps of the monument precinct, the huge statue of Kaiser Wilhelm quickly lost to view with each step. Of course, i've been before, we came with school, its a very important place to the German people besides being the end of the Mosel.

At the top, well as high as you can get at least, I joined the few other grockles about to enjoy the view, the finger of land marking the confluence looks like the foredeck of one of those old battleships, minus the guns of course, and beyond, the clear line between the green waters of the Mosel and the brown of Mutter Rhein. I checked the time, hmm, I should probably head into town. The other visitors were snapping away taking pictures, well why not, I pulled my Handy out and took a selfie, me with the 'German Corner' behind, and sent it to Max with a message 'c u at Bhf'.

Okay, its a bit cheesy but I don't care, a minute later, the phone chirped with a reply 'K xxx M' – well at least he's not going off to play 5 a side kickball or something equally boring.
 
I took the slightly longer, but less congested route up into the town, you know, along the Moselquai then up the steps by the Stadt Kunstmuseum. There was a familiar buzz from my bag as I got to the top, don't tell me he's changed his mind. But no, caller ID said Nena so I hit the green button.

"Bond.”
"Well dur, who else would have your phone?” Fischer queried.
"So what's up?”
"Nothing, well everything, oh I don't know.”
"This about the tour?”
"Well sort of, you know what mama has been like since, you know.”

I guess its sort of understandable but Frau Fischer has been a bit overprotective towards my friend since Claudia passed, not exactly locking her in the house but its the Spanish Inquisition everytime she goes anywhere.

"She's not pulled the plug on you coming?”
"Neh, not that she hasn't been doing the guilt thing but dad's on my side.”
"So?”
"Oh I don't know, it just gets a bit much sometimes.”
"Its only a couple of weeks before we go, maybe your mum needs a break too?”
"Dad's tried but theres always an excuse, usually 'whats Nena gonna do'.”
"She does realise you're seventeen now?” it was rhetorical, of course she knows how old her daughter is.
"You wouldn't think so sometimes, its driving me potty.”

"What are you up to tonight?”
"Telly I guess.”
"You could come to cheer?”
"Me, a cheerleader, not so likely!” she scoffed.
"What's wrong with cheering?”
"Where do I start?”
"Well I wasn't trying to recruit you, just thought it would get you out of the house for a bit, you could help me out, Hannah won't be there tonight so I'll be on my own.”
"I dunno.”
"Oh go on, it'd be fun, there might be pizza.”
"You are desperate, okay, what time?”
"Pick you up at the bus halt thirty to seven?”
“'kay.”
"Oh, and wear something you can move about in.”
"Aerobics stuff?”
"Oh and indoor shoes, look I'll have to go, I can see Max waiting for me.”
"Liebes junge traum,” she teased, "I'll see you later then, tschuss.”
"Tschussie.”

 
"That looked a bit intense,” Max opined when I finally got across the road.
"Nena, she's getting grief from her mama about the tour.”
"Tour?” he asked giving the crown of my head a quick peck in greeting.
"Blauhase dumbo.”
"Oh that tour, she is still going?”
"So far, anyhow she's gonna help me out at the All Stars tonight, no Hannah this week.”
"I coulda done that.”
"Just what we need, the local hunk at cheer practice, we'd have wall to wall drool, sprains and breaks, no thank you.”
"Urgh, I'm wounded and I thought i'd be doing good.”
"Maybe for you, not for the All Stars.”
"Damn, guess I'll have to make do with you then.”
I swatted his arm, "Make do? I'll give you make do!”
"Oo please,” he hammed.

You can't really do much more than smooch on public transport but I think its fair to say that our journey back to the Ahrtal gave our lips a fair workout and someone is now sporting a love bite on his neck! I got the full walk home service, not because I needed it but it did provide further opportunity for some slightly more advanced tonsil hockey when we got to Schloss Bond.
 
"That you Gaby?” Dad bellowed from inside his man cave – well the basement garage.

Damn, there's a little nook by the door which is ideal for a bit of canoodling as its under cover and out of the wind, the downside is potential discovery by parental units.

"Yes Daddy,” my turn to ham things up a bit.
"If that's Max with you i'd like a word please.”
"Okay, be right in.”

"What's your dad want?” Max asked as we headed up to the kitchen door.
"Your guess is as good as mine, you staying to eat?”
"I could be tempted.”
"It won't be fancy, cheer tonight.”
"If you've made it it will be like ambrosia.”
"Rice pudding?”
"Sorry, you've lost me.”
"Ambrosia, they make tinned milk puddings back in England.”
"Sometimes your mind works in very mysterious ways Gabrielle Bond.”
"But you still love me, you do still love me?”
He kissed my nose, "Its either love or the ring in your nose, I should go and see what Papa Bond wants me for.”
"I'll make some coffee.”
 

Dinner was simple as, pork chops from the freezer, potatoes and veg courtesy of Dad doing a small shop in the village Edeka – we'll do a proper restock tomorrow night down in Ahrweiler. I banged together some gravy, I usually braise chops which stops them drying out and shrinking too much, in the oven, thirty minutes et voila. Manda banged in complaining about the rain that she got caught in, both of us headed upstairs to change.

 
"You want dropping off Max?” Dad enquired.
"If its no trouble Herr Bond.”
"Can't have you drowning now, your dad would never forgive me.”
"Damn, your Gran, I forgot her chocolates.”
"I'm sure she'll live,” Max suggested, "She's not even home until tomorrow.”
"Remind me in the morning.”
"You two sound like an old married couple,” Mand chuckled.
"Hey, less of the old,” Max complained.
"Er Dad?”
"Er Gaby.”
"After we drop Max off we need to pick up Nena, she's helping me at the Tanzklub tonight.”
"The sooner you can drive yourself the better,” he mumbled.
"Can I take lessons?” well a girls gotta press her advantage right?
"You haven't taken your Mofa training yet.”
"I'm waiting for a date from the training school.”
"Hmm, where are we picking Nena up from?”
"The bushalt in Mayschoß?”
He checked his watch, "Ten past, now did someone mention coffee?”

 
We dropped Max off at Schloss Rech, just as well as it was persisting down now, and headed up the valley. There was no sign of Nena when we got to the bus shelter, we were a bit early but we'd barely stopped when a car made a one point turn and pulled in just ahead of us. Dad was muttering something about idiot drivers when the passenger door opened and a figure climbed out into the deluge.

It might have only been about ten metres but by the time she climbed into the Saab, Nena was quite, er, damp!

"Heya.”
"Hi Nen.”
"Its not nice out there,” she noted as she scrabbled for the seat belt.
"Any more pick ups or can we go up to the Tanzklub now?” Dad asked.
”Onward Parker.”
"Yes M'lady.”

Mand had a fit of the giggles, well Dad's Parker impression is absolutely terrible. 1

 
Siggy was just opening up when we arrived, Hannah usually does it but as she's not about other arrangements have been made.

"Hi Siggy,” I greeted the clubs 'caretaker', "Thanks for opening up for us.”
"Hmm.”
"So what do we do after?” Of course Han usually locks up too, being Monday we're the only evening group using the place.
"I'll come back,” he allowed.

Barrel of laughs he isn't.

"Okay, thanks.”

"Who's Quasimodo?” Nen asked as we divested ourselves of outdoor gear.
"Nena!” I admonished.

Well okay, he doesn't exactly cut an upright figure, still.

"So?”
"Siggy, he's like the Hausman, you know, looks after the place.
"Bit creepy if you ask me,“ Lisse put in joining us.
"Creepy?”
"Solde says he comes in and watches them practice.”
"At Garde?”
Lisse was warming to her subject now, "There should be a law.”
"Well i've never seen him there,” I observed.

In truth i've only ever seen him a couple of times, he was doing some painting the last time I think.
 

Nen joined me on one of the benches as the girls started their warm ups.

"Thought there'd be more here.”
"There's a couple sick.”
"Even so.”
"Maybe we need a recruitment drive.”

As I looked at my nominal charges, the truth of that was evident, two girls 'retired' just before Weihnachts and those left likely won't be about after this year, being seventeen, eighteen, only Celine is younger and she's nearly sixteen. Hmm, I'll have to talk to Hannah when she gets back, maybe some of the other classes could feed some aspiring cheerers to us?

 
"Okay, well done everyone.”

It has been a good session, Kristin has finally cracked that dismount and Susan really nailed that standing flip – anyone would think I know what I'm doing. It was the work of a couple of minutes to put the mats away and soon the members of The All Star Cheer were departing. Hannah usually goes around the building checking lights are off and doors closed so I thought i'd best do the same, Nena was talking with Kris and Mand so I set off alone.

The Tanzklub building is quite impressive really, there's the main hall of course complete with stage, various offices, changing and store rooms taking up most of the rest of the ground floor. The upstairs is smaller as its only over the office area, there's a couple of small studios, more facilities and a costume store – well they have to keep that stuff somewhere right? Of course, what sort of club would it be without some sort of bar – not that the groups I'm involved with have the need but the adult classes are as much social as serious, whatever tickles.

I didn't need to go upstairs so I just did the rounds on the ground level, rattling doors and turning off lights as I went. Why some were lit i've no idea, but no ones gonna say I'm not thorough. Returning to the main hall cum auditorium I had one last look about then turned off the lights, bank by bank.

The last switch clicked over and I was plunged into darkness, I made a grab for the door handle, temporarily blinded, it wasn't the door I grabbed though.

"Aaarrrgghhh!” I screamed, snatching my hand back.
 

"Gaby?“ Mand queried, "You okay, we heard a scream.”

The door swung open, a shaft of light illuminating de Vreen in the gap.

"There was something or somebody here.”
"Where?” Mand boldly came in and threw the light switches back on.

Of course, i've watched Scooby Doo, there's never anything there when the lights go on.

"It was by the door.”
"Well there's nothing here now,” she pointed out, “come on, that Siggy guy will be here to lock up.”

"Are you finished?”

I nearly jumped out of my skin, had Mand summoned him by using his name? Sure as eggs is eggs, there was Siggy.

"J-just turning the lights out,” de Vreen stammered out, clearly I wasn't alone in being rattled by his sudden appearance.
"I'll finish up,” he told us.
"Er sure,” I agreed, "Um, thanks for opening up and er stuff.”
"My pleasure,” he returned with a dip of his head.

We hurried out to where the others were waiting.

"We heard a scream,” Kris mentioned.
"I thought there was someone there.”
"Then that creepy guy sprang out of nowhere,” Mand added.
"Quasi?”
"Yeah.”
"Must've come in when we were getting our coats,” Kris temporised.
"Lets get out of here, Dad'll be waiting, you want a lift Kris?”
"Nah, I'll be alright, I'm only just through the tunnel.”
“'kay, laters.”
 

Kristen took off at a trot towards the tunnel, the rest of us sprinted through the wet to where Dad was parked in the Saab.

"Everything okay?” Pater greeted as we quickly joined him inside.
"Yeah,” I confirmed.
"Pizza?”
"Thought you'd never ask,” Mand grinned.
"Nena?”
"Er, I should get home.”
"You know you want to, we can go back to ours to eat, Dad can drop you back home after.”
"I don't want to be any trouble.”
"Its no problem,” Dad told her, "Now thats settled, who's having what?”

Well, it was a fairly rhetorical question on Dad's part, mainly for Nena's benefit, after all Mand always has Hawaii, its rare Dad doesn't have the hot and well, if you need to ask what I have you've clearly skipped a big bit of my saga. So whilst there was some discussion over the merits of the various flatbreads on offer on the way back to Mayschoß, the only change to the usual order was extra pommes and chicken edition pizza for Nena. I got volunteered to do the fetching, Dad dropping me by the door before moving a few metres further on to park.

It was only when I was sat waiting for our order a few minutes later that it struck me, its not let up raining all evening but Siggy and his coat were bone dry. Perhaps he keeps dry stuff at the Klub, nah, why would you bother? The only other explanation threw fuel on the flames of Lisse's earlier tale, that he'd been inside the klub all evening.

"Double pepporoni, Pollo, Hawaii, American hot and four pommes.”

Oh thats me. I got up and claimed our supper, Pedro got the door for me but I could've done without the big puddle that I did a Dr Foster through getting to the car. Well okay, it wasn't that deep but both my feet were soaked. In the old car we'd often eat here but Dad's a bit more fussy about this one so it was ten minutes later before boxes were opened, drinks poured and gannets allowed to attack!

 
Maddy Bell © 30.04.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
Sleep wasn't quick to arrive, what with getting creeped out at the Tanzklub and of course the issues that Nena was having at home. I know its quite selfish of me but without Nena my participation and indeed the whole BlauHase tour is in the balance. I'm not sure whether my 'pep' talk had any real effect but she did at least sound more like the old Nena – hmm I should talk to the other Angels.

Angels – thats a laugh. Well I suppose some of our number haven't gone to the dark side, I mean, Con is studying to be a kindergarten teacher which is sort of Angel stuff. Hmm, maybe thats it, we need to do something together, not sure what mind or when even.
 

After Monday, Tuesday and indeed the rest of the week was pretty mundane, college, training, learning the new songs, they all kept me busy. Mum had a flying visit midweek, the team having a late invite to a race in Mexico meant a change of plans for the whole Apollinaris squad. With a commitment to ride the German season opener, Die Rattenfanger GP up near Hameln, Gret, Mand and myself have been seconded to join Roni and Anita who drew the short straws for Mehicko.

Of course I'm looking forward to mixing it with the senior women but its mucked up my weekend plans, such as they were. I really had been looking forward to going to the cineplex in Bad Godesberg with Max on Saturday, yep just the two of us, a rare event in itself. And Bern was gonna bring Drea down to the Kabin on Sunday, oh I know its not the end of the world, both things can be rearranged but I hate letting people down.
 

"Come on you two,” Dad encouraged, "I don't want to be getting to the hotel too late.”
"Nearly ready,” I called down, well I'll be at least the proverbial five minutes, you know what I'm like.

"Got everything?”
"Think so,” well its best not to be too certain, Dad had our newly endorsed licences after a frantic trip to Frankfurt yesterday so it was the bike gear that needed third checking.
"Lets see then,” Dad sighed.
I opened my case and started my rummage, "Knickers, track mitts, shoes, er BH, Handy charger, bibs.”
"Socks?” he hinted.
I scrabbled around to find them, "Ta da!”
"Okay, George has left us a box of stuff at the office so we'll need to stop there first, Manda, you ready?”
"Just need my bag.”

We're taking the Saab, well its gonna double as team car tomorrow and its faster on the autobahn than the camper. Dad locked the house up while I heaved my bag down to the car, Dad and Mand's cases were already inside, along with our team frocks, a turbo, workstand, toolbox – well a lot of gear. The church bells sounded noon as we made our way through Dernau, for some reason I had butterflies in my stomach.

It didn't take long at team HQ, although the box Dad brought out looked like it had more than just three jerseys in it. Next stop was literally five minutes further down the valley, at the Pinger's house, Maria may have retired from racing but Kat is of course the team dogsbody – this weekend she gets to join us.

By the time we left the Ahr valley, the car was well stuffed, I even ended up in the back with Mand – well Kat's bigger all round and with the back seat being used for extra storage too, well it made sense. Maybe we should've come in the camper after all or at least the team minibus. At least the day was dry so far, nothing worse than a long drive in the wet.
 

"Are we meeting the others there?” I enquired as we headed up towards Köln.
"Dieter and Gret yes, we're meeting Anita and Roni at Kassel services.”
"We stopping for food?” Mand asked.
"Just coffee and facilities, we've got a meal booked at the hotel.”
"How're you guys going with the diet plan?” Kat queried over her shoulder.
"Er, okay,” I hedged.
"Oh great, the seniors really find it helps.”
"Don't get too excited Kat,” Mand broke in, "Miss hollow legs never said she was following it.”
"I have too,” I shot back, "Well a bit, I had salad the other day.”

This time it was Dad sniggering at my reply.

Kat let out a sigh, "Well its a start I suppose.”

Of course, we've been this direction before, up to Düssel then through the Ruhrgebiet towards Kassel. From there the motorways will take you up towards Hannover, east towards Magdeburg and Berlin or south to Frankfurt. A lot of the traffic takes a more northerly, flatter route from the Ruhr, not that the Kassel road is bad but it does get a bit more interesting with grades towards the Harz mountains.

Not that thats of much concern when you're in a car, the Ruhr is still the industrial heart of the country, the motorways testament to that with both heavy and slow traffic until we passed Bochum, the road clearing further as each succesive junction took more juggernauts from the arterial route. By the time we passed the Möhne Dam turn off, the traffic was pretty light and we made almost unhindered progress eastwards.

I could just see the speedometer, we were ticking along at about one twenty, fast enough but clearly not for everyone, a couple of organ donors, some sort of BM with a Golf Gti tucked behind, passed us like we were stood still.

Its wide, open country across here, the road rising, falling and turning in a ribbon of concrete across the landscape. It didn't seem that long but when I checked, we'd been going for over two hours when the first Kassel sign came up.

"Which services Dave?” Kat enquired.
"Damn, I can't remember which Anita said,” he admitted.
"I'll give them a call.”

I know we only saw everyone last week but I was kinda looking forward to seeing Ron and Anita, it'll be almost like old times, racing together. Yeah, me and Ron had some great times, okay I know it hasn't always been a bed of roses between us but mostly we got on and worked well together. Its never been quite the same since she moved up, oh I know Mand's here and this last year we've done more with the full squad but its not really the same as those halcyon days when we were both still finding our feet in the world of bicycle racing.

"Okay,” Kat's voice brought me back to the present, "About ten minutes I think, tschuss.”
"So?” Dad queried.
"Lohfeldener,” Kat stated, "You go off at the mitte junction.”
"Up on the hill?”
"Sounds familiar.”

Of course, nothing is ever that simple, it was only after we the next junction that Dad realised we couldn't turn north at the A7 junction due to roadworks. The result was an extra ten kilometres down to the first junction and back which meant our arrival at the services was delayed. We swung into the parkplatz, and found a slot almost outside of the roadhouse – well with ten thousand Euros of bike strapped to the roof you can't be too careful.

By now I actually needed the facilities so while the others took a more leisurely stroll I pretty much sprinted for the toilets.
 

"Bond!”

I jerked around from perusing a rack of CD's, no BlauHase just loads of cheesy Heimat, most Germans say our name as 'Bont' so Bond suggests familiarity and sure enough I spotted Anita and Ron just coming through the doors.

"Hey.” I allowed, "You made it.”
"We've been here ages,” Neet advised.
"Waiting for you guys to get here, talking of which, where is everyone?”
"Downstairs I guess.”
"Or waiting outsde the restaurant,” Ron proposed.
"Eh?”

Sure enough the rest of the Ahrtal taxi passengers were stood further along the concourse looking at the Speisskarte. The three of us set out to join them, being spotted by eagle eyed de Vreen on the way.

"You two eaten or anything?” Dad enquired.
"We'd only just got here when Kat called,” Nita supplied.
"Late lunch?” Kat suggested.

Yes!

"Okay, just remember we've food booked at the hotel later so nothing too heavy,” Dad told us.
 

"I said something light,” Dad mentioned as I slid my tray onto the table, laden with a regular cornucopia of edible delights – okay Frikadel, Pommes, salad and a Brotchen which, if I'm honest was a little past its best. But beggars can't be choosy right?
"I'm a growing girl.”
"The only direction you'll be growing is out,” Mand suggested.
"Girls, play nice,” Neet opined.

The others had been a bit more restrained, Ron and Neet both had soup, Mand a baked tater with what looked like beetroot sauce, Kat was on green tea and Dad had supplemented his coffee with a cheese croissant. Well they all need to watch their waistlines, I don't ,so there.

"Where are your bikes?” Mand enquired.
"We were supposed to bring bikes?” Ron gasped.
"Haven't you guys brought them?” Nita added.
"Only ours,” Mand told them, a look of horror rolling up her face.
"Guess I'll have to go back and fetch them,” Dad put in.
"We can wait here,” Kat proposed.

By now Manda's face was in a rictus of horror.

"Thought I was the dumb blonde.”
"Blonde yes,” Ron told me, "But I don't think dumb's the right word.”
"Well at least I'm not as gullible as some around here.”
"Eh?” de Vreen allowed, "Who's gullible?”
"You are dummy.”
"Me?”
"You don't think they've actually left their bikes behind do you?”
"They haven't?”
“'course not,” Ron grinned, "They're in Nita's back seat.”
"You, you.... meanies!”
"The look on your face Manda,” Neet grinned.
"You all played along” the victim accused.
"It was just too good,” Kat chortled.
"Hmmph!”
 

We finished up, made the obligatory comfort stop and returned to our transport, Dad waiting for Nita to drive round in her old Astra before setting off. As the crow flies its only about sixty K up the Wesertal to Hameln but we're going the more roundabout but quicker way via the A7 up to Hildesheim before driving across to our hotel at some place called Welliehausen just north of Rat City. Hey, he's doing the driving, I just read the directions.

The A7 was quite busy, its the main route from the north down into central Germany and beyond. There was a steady line of juggernauts in lane one going at what looked to be a silly slow speed, I realised why when we started to drop, it had been a significant climb from Kassel. Moments later we were climbing once again, the road straight as an arrow ahead, this time we could hear the Saab straining a bit on the continuous maybe ten percent grade.

This time the commercial traffic really was at a crawl, I checked behind for Ron and Neet but we'd tailed them off, our two litre turbo far outstripping the ancient one point nothing. It seemed to go forever but there was a top and a decent, almost equally as steep but less straight and long. There was another smaller berg before we reached the Magdeburg motorway then it was a flatter road up past Göttingen, the wooded foothills of the Harz mountains rolling away beyond.

I do sometimes miss England, the sheer variety of countryside you encounter in even a short journey but here in my, our, adoptive home you get much more of everything. If its flat its flat for dozens of kilometres, if its hilly it won't be just one lonely ridge but folds of the things. In a car or on a train you sail through these landscapes but on a bike it can become quite challenging, tomorrows Rattenfanger GP was described to me as 'a bit rolling', but looking at the countryside we are travelling through its not going to be a gentle walk in the Niedersachsen woods or anything close!
 

It was close on five o'clock when we turned up the lane to Welliehausen, a village, if you can call it that, overtaken by a housing boom of similar vintage to our place back in Church Warsop. The Landgasthaus Hesse predates this expansion but no doubt relies on it for much of its income if the size of the car park was anything to go by. We pulled to a halt, Dad heading straight inside while the rest of us started unloading.

"When does Gret get here?” Mand asked as we made our way up to the entrance.
"Thought they'd be here,” I opined, "Its closer for them I think.”
"This place looks a bit er rustic.”

To be honest it looked like a fairly standard cut and paste job, you could plonk it just about anywhere in the country and it wouldn't be out of place. Inside it was the usual cream walls, dark wood and wrought iron that decorates half, no more, of German homes and hostelries, even Bond Acres has its share.

Dad appeared through a frosted glass door.

"Ah, there you are, right you two and Greta are in room four which is up these stairs then up again.”
"Is there a lift?” Mand asked hopefilly.
"Only to the first level, you have to go out the front and in the side door.”
I grabbed the key from his hand, "Well I'm going straight up.”
"Dump your bags,” Dad told us, "Frau Brandt is arranging coffee for us in the bar.”
"Come on de Vreen, its only a few steps.”

Well okay, more than a few, the stairs went up to a landing, through a door then up again with a rest partway where room one was situated. There was a sort of lounge area at the top with rooms two and three going off along with the lift and stairs leading down to the side entrance I guess. The arrow on the wall directed us to a short flight of quite steep stairs to tonights lodging.

"Nice,” I mentioned stepping into what was clearly attic space, a large expanse with exposed timbers, two large dormer windows, all furnished in heavy but pale timber.
"Shower's a bit small,” Mand called from what I guess was the bathroom.

No arguing that, the room itself, when I looked in, was quite big but the shower was wedged between the exposed rafters at one end, the toilet under the eaves at the other.

"Who's getting the single?” Mand queried.

Beds, yep the room sleeps three, two in one bed and a single.

"I'll share if you want, best let Gret have the kinder bed.”
"I suppose its only one night.”
"If you want to argue with Gret be my guest.”
"Think I'll pass.”
"Lets go find this coffee then.”
 

Apart from our cramped dusch, everyone seemed quite happy with the rooms, the other women were in One whilst Dad and Dieter had Two and Three respectively – well George had already paid so there was no need for them to share. Talking of Dieter, he and his daughter arrived as we were talking, joining us before taking their bags up.

"Well,” Dad started, "Seing as we're all here, we might as well go over tomorrow now. I know its all been a bit of a rush, last minute changes are never great, on behalf of George i'd like to thank everyone for stepping up. So, breakfast at seven, we need to be down in Hameln about nine, presentation is at ten, ten thirty roll out. There's neutral service but Dieter and myself will be in the train, use us if you can.

Feed at the start of lap three, thats you Kat, see how things are but I suggest maybe Roni and Manda grab for everyone, we'll have bidons in the car if you need extra. Its the same course as last year apparently, you rode Anita?”

"How could I forget, it snowed! The climbs are quite draggy, a few steep bits and the surface is not always so good. The finish is in the centre outside the Rathaus, if it comes to a big gallop it could be interesting, there are metal studs in the paving which are not so good.”

I started chuckling.

"Whats so funny Bond?” Gret asked.
"Nothing really, its just the finish is at the Rathaus and its Hameln.”
"So?”
"Rattenfanger, Rathaus?”

Mand sniggered then.

"Its an English thing,” Neet supplied, "The story of the Rattenfanger in Hamelin and the Rathaus, I know its not the same thing but the British, they have strange humour.”
"Er right,” Gret still looked puzzled, I guess some things just don't translate.

"Questions,” Dad pressed on.
"Do we have team orders?” Ron requested.
"Good question,” Dad paused before continuing, "Officially no, George just needed a squad on the startline, hear me out Gaby.”

How did he know I was about to protest that?

"I don't want to get into team politics, Ron, Anita, this is in confidence okay, you're here because you fitted in best with the juniors in Tenerife, you get along with my lot well. Clearly we are at a disadvantage to some of the other squads but our very youth will, I hope be our advantage tomorrow. So Nita, you're in charge out there, you call the shots, get people in moves but keep some powder in reserve for the finale.

George just wanted numbers on jersey's but I think we can, at the very least, make our presence felt. So, its a watching brief, if we can get a rider, riders even in at the final that would be terrific. Our advantage is that the other teams, they haven't ridden against you three,” he pointed at Gret, Mand and myself, "They don't know your strengths, your weaknesses, Gab's will be in a standard jersey so none of you will stand out.”

"Thats sneaky,” Ron mentioned.
"Actually its the rules, her titles are for junior only, whilst they can ride this event at seventeen as its open category, you only get to wear the jersey in equivalent events – I checked with the Federation yesterday.”
"Bit of a swizz,” Mand lamented.
"Think of it as useful camoflage.”
"Hidden in plain sight,” Gret added.

 
Maddy Bell © 01.05.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
We had a bit of time before dinner which meant I got time to get a call in to Max – well he gets lonely and I do have the tiny gold ring in my nostril. Another bonus was that as we were the only guests at the Hesse, Dad let us off the chore of the team frocks – I don't think anyone minds the thinking, its just that what we have are just so, I dunno, corporate?

Anyhow, dinner turned out to be a full on 'Italian' pasta buffet, the restaurant was open to the public and I got the impression a lot of our fellow diners ate here regularly. Where was I? Oh yeah, food, we've done this type of thing before of course, this one stood out though as the salad bar was brilliant and whilst it was all quite good, the lasagne was about as good as it gets, solid enough to not collapse all over the plate without being dry, and not too greasy either.

The two men did have beer but alcohol was replaced by soft drinks for the rest of us – well we need to be fresh and with it in the morning. We did retire to the bar after eating but for coffee and for the 101 on the womens 'professional' peloton from Anita and Ron. Of course, whilst the field will be something like a hundred riders strong, only a small percentage are paid full time competitors, most of the field will be made of semi professional and even a few privateer riders who have a nine to five away from the bike.

We wouldn't know exactly who would be riding but the other two full time squads, Trek Deutchland and Aldi Sud BMW will be well represented and there's a lot of talent in the second tier teams too. Race length is just over one twenty kilometres, four thirty K laps so about three and a half hours or so, the extra bit is the run into the finish. We discussed how we thought the race would go of course, apparently the women are less hot headed in their riding than the juniors we usually ride against – maybe that'll work in our favour.
 

The morning arrived quite grey with some light mist sitting over the trees that blanket most of the hills hereabouts but apart from that, it was dry and, according to Kat who'd been for a run, 'not freezing' whatever that means. It felt a bit weird pulling on the cream Apollinaris Mercedes strip instead of my rainbow banded white and equally strange seeing the same worn by Gret and Mand instead of the usual sky blue. It might be the rules but I still felt a bit cheated, I hadn't even got rainbow trim which I could wear legit, there just hadn't been time to sort that sort of stuff out.

With the bikes all on the Saab's roof, our personal belongings were stowed in the other cars and at just turned eight, Team Apollinaris departed Welliehausen for the race headquarters a few kilometres away by Hamelns 'new' townhall. The Rattenfänger Grand Prix was advertised on what looked like nearly every lamp post as we negotiated the town, a bit like we had in Switzerland the other year, clearly its a big thing locally. With our 'helpers' setting up our own mini HQ, we do at least have the Ezyup – it came strapped to the roof with the bikes, the rest of us, armed with licences headed to the signing on facility.

It might be fairly early still but there were plenty of people about, jerseys that I didn't recognise, doubly so for the wearers. Of course the Apollinaris strip is well known, the team have been a force on the German domestic scene for at least ten years and the jerseys have altered very little in that time. What was different were those wearing it, today more so than usual, we got quite a few questioning or maybe confused looks.
 

It might be a big 'national' level event but of course its the Niedersachsen region who are responsible, I actually recognised the woman supervising the sign on arrangements from previous excursions into the region.

"Next.”
"Er Bond, Apollinaris,” I offered, proffering my new licence.

Accepted protocol for allocating numbers is the previous winner or series leader gets number one, their team following in a block then its alphabetical by team and sometimes by rider name. Apollinaris and Bond combined means that we invariably wear low numbers and more often than not I seem to have numero uno pinned on my back. Tina won here last year but with her not here this time its gone to the alphabetic system, guess who is at the top of the list?

"So Bond, number one,” the woman hadn't looked up before taking my licence, simply sliding her marker across the sheet.

Her helper retrieved the set of identifiers while I scrawled my name in the box.

"Hang on, this isn't right.”

Huh? Don't say i've come all the way here for nothing, surely Dad checked before he left the Federation on Friday.

"Er how so?”
"They have your details wrong, see,” she handed the laminated card back to me.

Well I'm no expert but it looked okay to me, Gabrielle Bond, no t, date of birth twenty five February nineteen ninety, F for frau, category Espoir, team Apollinaris Mercedes. Okay the picture was a bit iffy but you could see it was me.

"Er where?”
She took the card back and peered over her glasses, "The category should be Fachfrau1 like your friend before,” she took Anita's licence back out of her tray to show me, "See, Fachfrau.”
"But I'm not, professional that is.”
"You are too old for Espoir Frau Bond.”

There was snigger from behind me, Gret.

"I'm only seventeen.”
"Its true,” Gret put in over my shoulder – well she's a lot taller than me.
"You have a grown daughter Frau Bond,” she insisted.
"I do?”
"This is Jenny's daughter,” Anita interjected having returned to see what the hold up was.
"Daughter? But she races Juniorin.”
"Usually,” I agreed, "But I got dispensation for today, see,” I pointed to the licence, "Gabrielle Bond, Jenny's my Mum.”

The woman readjusted her specs before looking from me to the licence and back again.

"I'm so sorry, you look so much like your Mutter, I just saw Bond and expected it to be her.”
"So the licence is okay?” Anita asked.
Another look at the card, "Yes, oh you haven't signed it.”
"Can I do that now?”
"Its not strictly allowed.”
"You know who she is,” Anita pointed out.
"Well okay.”
"I'd best do mine,” Gret mumbled behind me, "Got a pen?”

I'm not sure who should be most upset, me or Mum, we might look quite similar but I'm the runt of the family, both Mum and my sister tower over me by more than ten centimetres for a start.
 

"Well you have to admit, it was quite funny,” Gret opined as we headed back to where Team Apollinaris now had bikes ready on turbos, whilst we'd only brought one, Gret had her own and there had been three team models in Anita's car.

"All sorted?” Dad enquired.
"Except the woman doing signing thought I was Mum.”
"How come?”
"She just heard Bond and assumed Dave,” Neet mentioned.
"Could be an issue out on the road I suppose,” Dad mused.
"I don't think so, not unless we make it one.”
"Well you've got about three quarters to warm up, there anywhere to get coffee?”
"Didn't see any,” I allowed as I perched on the back of Dieter's car to swap my shoes.
"Sure we'll find some not far away,” Gret's dad stated.
 

Being the first 'proper' event of the year, the presentation was more a general thing than introducing particular riders, I think with our team's big hitters absent it took some of the wind out of the sails. Instead the more prominent squads were introduced en masse, we all duly smiled and waved which at least covered up some of the nervousness at least three of us were feeling. The babbling continued for about ten minutes but then it was time to get ready for the off.

If I had been going for a training ride I would have been in thermals but for racing, well its a bit over the top, around us riders were in states of dress from full coverage to shorts, although no one was showing their arms. Rather than shorts, we were all using knickers, you know, they come down to just below the knee? I was equally happy to have a thermal top on under my jersey too although i'd eschewed long sleeves for arm warmers, even so it felt quite chilly when Kat collected our trackie tops.
 

"Funf, vier, drei, zwei, eins!' Paaarrpp!

Its always good to be near the front when you set off, you aren't trying to avoid a sea of others as you and they get clipped in, you can bet I always end up behind someone who needs three attempts to locate their cleat. Often our junior races are effectively on open roads but at this level a rolling closure is more usual which means we can use the full road width most of the time.

We hadn't ridden that far before flashing lights ahead suggested something going on, turns out we had to do a U turn in front of the junction we'd come in to town through, to go back past the HQ for the start proper. I'm glad we were at the front, the nervous peloton had caused about three collisions before we even got back past the HQ! The race slipped past the race convoy, the Saab at the head of the team cars directly behind the neutral service and Commisar, then through the next junction to the start opposite the botanic gardens.

Yep, unusually we are going counter clockwise today, I suppose with the rolling closure it makes no real odds unless you are outside of the main race. Of course, I was expecting a huge surge of activity once we were clear to race, in the Jungere events there are always suicide attacks as soon as the flag drops. But there was nothing, well not quite nothing just a sort of swell towards the front, already this is looking different to what I'm used to.

Don't get me wrong, this was no procession, people were moving around the peloton and the pace was a quite respectable thirty kph as we headed through the industrial zone to the west of the town. What was missing was all the 'willy waving' that teenage lads do, I don't mean literally but there's a percentage of the lads that like to finesse, to show off to their peers. Doesn't impress me for sure but with a testosterone free race that aspect was completely absent.

We rolled along like one big, slightly messy social ride for a couple of kilometres before we reached open fields and the first climb of the day appeared ahead of us. As Neet had suggested, it was a long draggy affair, a low shoulder of higher ground really which put no one in difficulty, no doubt aided by the slight tail wind. Down, up, down, the road rolling across the open landscape now dominated by a proper hill off to our right covered in dark forest.

But that wasn't for us, instead we descended into a small town, Coppenburg or some such, the race turning left under what appeared to be the local schloss. A few locals cheered us through and still no one had even sniffed at the open road ahead. The five of us in cream were still fairly closely packed, well Ron and Mand had drifted back a few places, or rather theyd been displaced by others, it seems a bit weird not being totally dwarfed by half the field too.

Everyone, well those around us anyway, safely negotiated the village and once clear, on a typical tree lined Sachsen road, another dark mass loomed ahead of us.

Nita lightly tapped me on the back to get my attention, "First proper climb,” she supplied pointing with her head.
"Bad?”
"Maybe ten percent in places,” she allowed, "If I remember, the steep part is up into the forest then it rolls on.”
"Are all the races this quiet? I mean no ones tried anything since the start.”
"Its a long way,” she pointed out, "Whats the hurry?”

Well I can't fault the logic but I'm getting a bit antsy, this just isn't my style of racing.

"Mind if I have a dig up this?”
"Serious?”
"Just a leg stretch.”
"Go for it.”
 

The road, well country lane really I guess, was already climbing towards the next village. The fields of sandy soil stretching away in gentle rolls to either side were showing early signs of greening but without a hedge or wall in sight, it looked more like a patchy prairie than fields. Almost as soon as we passed the yellow name plate the road became more like a patchwork of tarmac complete with lumps, dips and broken road edges, hmm might be useful later on .

Rather than neat bungalows or strips of cottages this place was more like a collection of large farm buildings, scattered to either side, not always even aligned to the road which snaked slowly upward through tree strewn paddocks and gardens. As the buildings thinned the incline increased, another avenue now taking us more steeply upwards towards the forest.

I casually checked out the riders around the pointy end of the race, not knowing any of them meant my assesment was potentially flawed but no one came over as looking particularly 'better' than the rest. Like I say, these girls, well women are all new adversaries to me but you usually get a bit of a hint from peoples body language. This lot, well they are all obviously comfortable enough tapping along as we are but aren't we here to race?
 

The pace dropped as the slope started to bite so I took my chance and accelerated up the gutter. There were some muttered curses and gear changes as number one took position one in the race, I kept pouring on the power right into the sweeping right hander that now jerked uphill ever more steeply. I'll admit to being slightly overgeared but rather than change down I stood on the pedals to keep on top of things.

Trees crowded the road as the gradient eased into a draggy ascent, bobbling about a little but continuing to add metres of height. A surrepticous glance under my arm on the long left hander that followed revealed several groups giving chase, well following me upwards really, a few metres between each – it could quickly all end up back in one piece. There wasn't the urgency in the chase despite me having over a hundred metres clear tarmac, I suppose it might be different later in the race but this complacency I can work with.

The high point was marked by a sharp righthander before a less steep road continued through the trees. If i'd been seriouis this was the point i'd put the hammer down but instead I just rolled along, no point in wasting energy is there? It wasn't quite level by the time the trees gave out to more tilled prairie, the road cutting through the landscape in long straight avenues towards another village whose church tower stood proudly above the red tiles of the surrounding buildings.

I was very nearly in the village before the head of the peloton overtook me, they really hadn't been trying very hard had they? About twenty riders went through before a gap allowed me to slot back in just in time for the almost hairpin turn we had to make only a few metres later. We were now on a much bigger road but one that was headed almost directly into the wind and back up to the forest.
 

I'll be the first to admit it but the juniors are pretty bad when it comes to things like echelons – or working together at all. I hadn't therefore been quite ready for the quick assumption of a mutual windbreak formation as we started the grind into what was actually quite a stiff wind. If you aren't sure what I'm talking about, its essentially a derivative of through and off but instead of two neat lines along the road, positioning is all about everyone getting maximum shelter for as long as possible which meant today we were strung across almost the full width of the road.

Of course, you can't do that in one line of a hundred twenty riders so we were actually in four or five groups along the road. Find yourself in the wrong group and it could be curtains for your chances but as we moved back into the trees everyone came back together as the road changed direction and the woodland offered a good windbreak. There didn't seem to be a set summit this time, we just started tilting downwards before dropping towards what looked like a small town.

The descent was fast, protected from the crosswind by a large promontory, it was only as the road flattened out that we felt the wind again, not as strong but still niggling. Under what looked like an autobahn, we passed a sign for Hameln but continued up a rise into the town. At the top of the rise we turned into what looked like the main shopping street where there was a reasonable crowd lining the barriers defining what looked like a finish zone.

Spotting Ron a couple of riders away I moved up.

"Hi Gab.”
"Hey, so like what gives, I thought the finish was in Hameln?”
"Weren't you listening? There's a sprint here the middle two laps.”
"Right.” I really should listen to the commisars pep talks.
"So what do you think of the womens racing?” she asked reaching for her bidon.
"Not exactly how I imagined it, are they always this, this sleepy?”
"Depends on the route, sometimes its full gas from the gun but these longer races are often quieter until the last hour, guess thats why they put the sprints in, liven things up a bit.”
"Hmm,” I acknowledged stuffing a lump of flapjack into my mouth.

It might be a rolling closure but that doesn't stop there being parked vehicles along the road.

"Recht!” someone ahead yelled.

The peloton swerved away from the kerb but I guess not quick enough. There was the unmistakable squeal of emergency braking before screaming and the sound of bikes and riders hitting the deck rent the air. Its human nature to want to investigate the fate of our fellow man or in this case woman, a few heads snapped about to look which almost caused a second accident.

I don't know how but I could sense that the mass of riders behind was no longer there almost straight away, I hope none of ours are in the thick of what sounded like carnage but its not like I can do anything about it. Ron at least, was still in the front group, a quick count suggested we were about thirty strong, besides Apollinaris, both the Trek and Aldi teams were represented, the balance appeared to be in second tier teams except for one girl in a RSV Magdeburg jersey. Question is, how do we take advantage of the situation?

 
Maddy Bell © 01.05.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
"With me,” I hissed at Ron as we safely negotiated a roundabout moments after the crash.

I moved up the outside of the group, not even checking for my friends presence, reaching the front as we departed Springe, the hopefully prophetically named town we'd just passed through. It was going to be a gamble, a big gamble, there is afterall still a hundred kilometres to go, but all this pussyfooting about is doing my head in. It looked like we were just moving up, least wise that was the idea but when we reached the pointy end of things I snicked up a sprocket and took off like magnesium pellets on a pond.

It was far from the ideal escape spot, into the wind, exposed open countryside, wide sweeping road but when has common sense come into anything? I got myself into an old school TT crouch and used my skills in that discipline to progress down the road, the road closure allowing me to take the best line through the long left hander before barely dabbing the brakes to turn onto a more main road again.

You could only describe the next couple of kilometres as a slog. The road engineers had clearly wanted to lessen the effects of the rolling Weserbergland countryside, a series of embankments and cuttings kept gradient numbers low, the downside was eratic wind patterns mitigated only slightly by roadside plantations. But I had clear road, sufficient to claim the neutral service shortly before the next turn.

A change of direction gave some relief from the wind as I skirted Bad Münder and started on a more rolling ride which felt less exposed even if the fields were still unbound by any form of windbreak. I risked a look behind as I approached yet another village, I still had the service but the peloton weren't too far behind. Question is, how far do I flog the horse?

Looking at the roadsigns i'd be joining the two one seven shortly, well I guess I should call it a day, its daft flogging away on these exposed roads. I was somewhat taken aback when the lead car took a right before the reaching the big junction. The road climbed up through the village then hooked a left to cross the dual carriageway by a bridge, before we turned onto a single track lane.

I could see the lane snaking along beside the main road, from being in a weak position tactically, I'm now playing with the full deck. Advantage Bond, a single rider can progress better than a bunch on roads like this, a grin took over my face as I settled down once more. The lane bounced over the countryside alongside the big road before it diverted to climb over a rail line after which another direction change lessened the impact of the invisible fiend.

After something like three kilometres the lane spat me out onto the main road, but not for long, my guides taking the next junction. Hey I recognise this, we came along here to get to Welliehausen last night which means we aren't far from Hameln. This new road started a very gradual climb, after a couple of K we turned left and started to climb more steeply up through some houses, it was only as I reached the top that I recalled Dad saying this was part of the circuit this morning.

I engaged hyper Bond, and quickly had my legs flailing around as I dropped back into Hameln. A few people cheered as I made my way around the town ring, I saw Kat but she was on the wrong side of the road so her words, I hope of encouragement were lost. One lap down, three to go, but am I going for the win or just some glory?

 
At least I'm not going into lap two almost blind like the first time around, I may not know all the little bits but I do have the lie of the land in my head. Not only that but I do now have the wind behind me, it wasn't as noticeable sat in the bunch but even as I traversed the streets of Hameln I could feel its presence. Ninety kilometres though, thats a fair way on your own, especially with a peloton who will no doubt be out for early season results.

Lets be realistic girl, sitting up now really would be a waste of my energies since that Springe place. On the other hand there is an intermediate sprint there, thats only about twenty kilometres which is entirely doable. Yeah that sounds like a plan, get to the sprint on my own then I can reassess things.

Decision made, I reached for more flapjack then took a sip from my bidon, little and often as my various coaches keep drumming away to me. Refuelled, I knuckled back down to the riding along the eastbound route one. Its strange what goes through your mind when you are out on your own like this, my mind drifted to geography lessons at Silverberg where Herr Bott did his best to teach us about such things.

Its sort of a European Route 66 between the Belgian coast and across to Poland and beyond all the way to Moscow, only the German bit which runs from Aachen, via Düsseldorf, Hameln and Brunswick to Berlin and on to cross the Polish border at the Oder is numbered One. Its not exactly a straight route but a lot of that is to avoid areas that in the past could be perilous and even difficult to cross, Upper Hesse for example would be a mare with horse drawn wagons. Of course, these days its been overtaken by autobahns but in places its still an important route.

I cleared the town and started the rolling ride towards the first climb of the lap, that draggy saddle. It might only be a two lane road but its still pretty wide and its trunk route status earns it regular maintenance, not least of which I was grateful for the road sweeping. Why you may ask, well the main carriageway is, whilst smooth, a quite open surface, inside the white line is much smoother, something I hadn't appreciated in the peloton last time along here.

I'm sure the chasers, I'm presuming I'm being chased, could see me on the wide sweeping bends at least, I didn't look, no point worrying at this point. The comp was reading forty, my heart rate in the low one eighties, which Dad reckons is a sweet spot, trying hard but not giving it a hundred percent, an effort you can keep going for a longer period.

The lump of higher ground crept closer, but with my elemental assistance I barely felt the gradient and remained, hands resting on the 'hoods, in as near time trial mode as a bike without tri-bars will allow. It didn't seem far or long enough but I was on the slight drop to that Copper, no Coppenbrügge place when one of the race motorbikes came alongside. Its not something we get often in junior races but I guess this is the big time, anyway i looked over at the chalk board and tried to decipher the message.

2 @ 1'07
pel +'34

In race speak it meant that I wasn't in immediate danger of being caught, the nearest riders being over a minute in arrears. Well thats good, if I can get over the big climb without losing too much I should get to Springe at the front. I gave the bike a nod of thanks and allowed myself a few metres of freewheeling before the turn under the schloss.

The contrast from Route One is pretty stark and being on my own as the route navigated the village explained why there was some bunching last time. No such issues this time as the Polizei waved me through the junctions which always brings a smile to my face. What are they thinking as they hold the traffic for maybe one or a swarm of bikes to safely pass?

 

I was soon back in my stride and riding along the avenue towards Patchdorf, well thats what I'm calling it anyhow. I've left smooth tarmac behind for a while – not that I'm dodging potholes exactly but L roads are just not maintained to the same levels. My speed dropped a couple of klicks, a combination of the slight incline and road surface, but I was still comfortable enough.

Two kilometres, slightly under three and a half minutes and the avenue was replaced by the first of the big farm buildings that dominate the village of Patchdorf. It might be patchy but the road is quite smooth so I dropped into a smaller sprocket again and had a bit of a dig through the village streets. This time through I actually saw a few people watching, I gave a little wave back to the three youngsters who were shouting themselves hoarse when I passed.

There was method in the effort, the twistier village roads meant i'd potentially be out of sight of the 'pursuivants', a couple of extra seconds will keep me out of sight longer when things do straighten which, and its not guaranteed, may deflate the chase a bit. Anyhow, I settled back down at the top of the village and dropped a gear to keep my momentum on the long ramp to the climb proper. Last time around I was just playing, this time its for real.

Somehow I held my nerve until almost the end of the straight but then I succumbed to a good look behind. I couldn't see the break, only the service bike marred my view but there, at the start of the avenue, was the peloton, definitely smaller than it started, I wonder how many that accident claimed. They were too far back to identify jerseys, it was just a mass of bodies backlit by flashing lights.

Is that one minute, two minutes, can't be more can it? I dropped into the small ring, double changing to keep the revs steady and set to on the climb. There were a few more spectators up through the trees, mostly what looked like cycling enthusiasts, probably club riders come to support local favourites or perhaps friends. Anyhow, they were generous in their encouragement but even so, the climb seemed to go on for ever.

But there it was, the sharp bend that marks the summit, I rolled through the corner before sitting up for a splash of liquid down the gullet, not that I had time to rest but its easy to end up choking if you are drinking while giving it some! Been there, got the t-shirt. I slipped the depleted bidon back in the cage and returned my attention to the task in hand.

The road rolled through the forest then burst into open farmland and another long straight which, if I recall has a tight turn at the end. Click, click and I was churning a bigger gear around, the comp suggesting I was doing about fifty kph with the last hurrah of tailwind. I think I caught the lead car a bit unaware as I was almost on his bumper when we got to the almost hairpin turn.

A couple of houses offered a little shelter before the wind found its mark, my speed dropping to mid twenties as i hunkered down to present as small a target as possible. It doesn't help that its a draggy climb either, I could almost sense the riders behind eating into my lead. A quick glance when the road turned gave me more confidence though, they actually seemed even further in arrears than before.

If memory serves, theres only a few kilometres to go to my target and some of that is downhill, yeah, I think I'll make it. The forest drew closer offering a little protection from the invisible menace as the change in road direction took the wind from almost direct head to something closer to full side and even on my left shoulder. The descent was nicer on my own, once again my smallest sprocket was employed, there was a dodgy moment when a gust through a field entrance caught me but I managed to hold it even if I did ease off a tad.

Under the dual carriageway then up into Springe, I could hear the PA system before I turned into the Marktplatz, news of my arrival being relayed to the watchers who had at least doubled from our first visit this morning. I sat up and tugged my jersey a bit straighter before crossing the line with an arm raised – we might not get the win today, well probably not but we wont leave empty handed.

 
Now what, do I press on or wait? What am I thinking, press on of course, for now at least. The next few kilometres though, were murder, the wind seemed stronger than last time, a combination of open fields and nagging climbs took their toll, there is no way I can keep this sort of effort going for even another half lap let alone two full circuits. The motorbike with the slate came up again, – pel +27, the end is nigh.

I wound my effort back a bit but even so i'd almost reached the singletrack before the rest of the race caught up to me, they must've been as glad as me, the speed dropped almost immediately or was that because of the sandy lane ahead?

I felt a hand on my back.

"Nice effort youngster.”
"Cheers.”

A couple more riders came through before Neet came alongside.

"Well that shook things up a bit.”
"You think? The others still about?”
"For now, it was quite a chase after that pile up, Gret was on elastic until we got down to Hameln.”
"She okay now?”
"Well she's sitting at the back of the group still but so's Amanda.”
"You got any flapjack left?”

 

The singletrack prevented too much movement in the bunch although those at the pointy end were driving us along at a goodly lick. As a result, when we hit the dual carriageway it was like everyone wanted to be at the front. Well i've had a good dose of that so I found myself trading revs with Gret and Manda.

"Thought you'd be away to the finish,” Mand opined.
"Too windy.”
"I don't believe it, Super Bond admitting she's human afterall,” Gret grinned.
"If I get cut do I not bleed – well something like that. So how're you two doing?”
"Could've done without that crash,” Gret noted.
"Neet said you were chasing for a long time.”
"Yeah, everytime I got on the back someone had a go at the front, nightmare.”
"I heard a few grumbles when they heard someone had attacked,” Mand stated, "You'd think it was a Sunday ride.”
"It is, sort of,” I pointed out.

We made the turn towards Welliehausen and the race tadpoled, time to get back towards the front. By the time we started the circuits last draggy climb the three of us were more safely in the middle of the fifty or so strong peloton, of the rest of the race I hadn't seen any sign. I hadn't seen Ron since I was returned to the pack but there she was, up at about fourth, fifth wheel, riding smoothly amongst her peers.

I reckon everyone was having similar thoughts as we descended into rat city, food. Riders were busily moving bottles and jersey contents about in anticipation of the feed, a health and safety violation if ever there was when you are careering downhill at over forty k's. Somehow everyone got to the bottom in one piece, the mass of two wheeled womanhood sweeping easily onto the ring to complete the lap.

 

Some things we practice seemingly ad infinitum, feeding is at the top of that list. On the face of it, its a simple job, helper holds up bag, rider grabs it, the problem comes when there are dozens of riders all trying to grab specific bags and all without losing the race momentum. And today, just to make things even easier, Kat has five of us on her own – nightmare.

We turned around the tourist information building and there they were, a forest of arms and bags waving at us, just finding the right arm will be a big enough challenge.

"I'll get 'em,” Mand volunteered.
"Be my guest.”

Gret and I moved across the road, out of the way, even then a stray bottle nearly took me down. There were riders heading all directions but somehow we cleared the pickup zone intact, Manda joining us with our lunch. Its not officially neutralised but its thought bad form to attack during this process and the womens peloton seem to be very keen on such traditions so, whilst we'd moved up the bunch during the process, everyone was sorting out their supplies rather than actually racing.

Neet and Ron? well they'd collected ahead of us mere jungere.

 
"Everyone okay?” Nita asked as the whole group cruised through Hamelns industrial zone after joining Route One again.
"I'll be better on the outside of these sandwiches,” Mand admitted before taking a chunk of Nutella® sandwich.

Yeah, its not all healthy sports nutrition, sometimes nothing but carbs and calories will do.

"How'd you think it'll go now?” I queried.
"Gut,” our captain started, "Probably stay together until the last lap, action on that hill then.”
"Thats how it went last year,” Ron agreed.
"Think I can manage that,” Gret stated.
"Works for me,” I added.
"Gab, can you let me know if you are doing something again, can't cover if we don't know.”
Thats me told off, "Sorry it was a bit spur of the moment, you know, when the crash happened.”

The five of us remained fairly close together, towards the front of affairs, as we headed along the tarmac of Route One, no chance of the smoother shoulder as part of this rolling carnival. After my eyeballs out effort a lap ago, it was verging on pleasant as we bowled along, heck, the sun was even threatening to make an appearance. Our speed was, according to my comp, a few kph slower than my solo lap but nevertheless, time seemed to pass more quickly.

 

The status quo remained intact all the way out to patchwork dorf when, with the circuits biggest climb looming ahead, a couple of girlies made a break for it and neither of them was me. There was a bit of hesiitation around us, one of the duo was with Trek so they wouldn't be chasing, the other had 'Krombacher' emblazoned across her backside so that rules out another couple from the bunch.

"Ron,” Neet called out .

Grönberg set off in pursuit which prompted one of the Aldi Sud girls to follow as well as a trio of others keen to either be in the move or close it down.

"Gab, Mand, watch the Trek.”

I'm usually on the receiving end of such support, it felt a bit weird not being the one heading into the fray. I couldn't really tell what was going on ahead, well I was doing my hawk and shadow stuff wasn't I? With the beer and bikes doing an anchor job, the escapees and their immediate pursuers soon had a reasonable gap but this wasn't supposed to happen until the last lap.

Of course, the roadblock can only last so long, and this ones breaking point was the steeper ramp into the forest. It was like ants on a honeyed stick, riders spread the width of the road giving their best to crack the blockage. The leaders now had their own anchors to contend with, if i'd been up there i'd have put another effort in but clearly these ladies were one shot wonders, by the summit corner the gap was down to a few bike lengths, the writing for this move was on the wall.

I caught Neets eye, "Sprint' I noiselessly mouthed.

She nodded and gave me the okay sign.

 
Maddy Bell © 04.05.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
I'm sure you all know the story that made Hameln famous, the rats, the Piper, the broken promise and the Pipers revenge. I remember, when I was little, being scared witless when the teacher read it to us, I don't think I even knew what a 'Pied Piper' was but I knew I didn't like them. I know its only a fairytale except, like many of the Grimms tales, it does have a kernel of truth in its origins.

Anyhow, thats by the by, the thing that always stuck with me was the whole piper leading the rats & children away from the town, the latter, if we are to believe the experts, into the same hills of the Weserburgerland that we are riding through today. What is she waffling on about I hear you ask, what drugs is she on, okay I'll get to the point. Last night, when we hashing through our options, which didn't include my solo lap by the way, we did come up with a set piece, ostensibly for the finale but who says we can't do a dry run now.

Neet variously signalled my team mates, who each eased their way forward as we headed for that tight turn. Around us, our peers seemed quite happy to have contained the escape attempt, from what i've gleaned over the years of following Mum's career, in the womens ranks once there is a successful escape the rest of the riders pretty much shut down their efforts, if the attack isn't over in a handful of kilometres, it'll likely succeed. Yeah, I know my solo attempt lasted over a lap but is was me failing rather than the rest chasing me down.

Anyhoo, we had this plan and we we're gonna give it a whirl for the second intermediate sprint. By now the sun was strong enough to cast shadows across the road, every ten metres a dark stripe angled across the road as we bowled towards the kick off point. I took my chance to take a decent pull on my bidon, hmm, might have to drop back to Dad to replenish once we've tried our skulduggery.

There was a general easing of effort as we entered the village, the rest of Apollinaris Mercedes were sitting top ten with me a few wheels adrift. I was still in the turn when Roni took a flier from the right hand kerb, yeah I was expecting it but those around me weren't, result consternation and panic. The other three jumped in behind her quickly followed by the more astute competition, by the time we returned to open fields, Roni truly was a modern day Pied Piper, a long string of bike riders strung along the road behind her.

To an outside observer, it would look like I was just along for the ride, tucked in about twentieth wheel as the race chased my friend towards Springe. In one sense I was but there's method in my positioning, keeping our light under a bushel, hiding in plain sight or any other metaphor you can think of, the competition will be worrying about whats happening at the pointy end, not back here. A couple of riders slipped backwards but tellingly, no one was moving forward, our tactic seems to be working.
 

The open fields kept the race in a long echelon, when I glanced behind I was apparently the tail, a gap had formed and the next group were already several metres in arrears. Whilst I couldn't really see what was happening at the front, I know what we discussed, the others would each be putting in big efforts to keep the speed high and the competition worried. Indeed, when we reached the bend at the top of the avenue, the pace increased a bit as the troublesome wind took on a more sidewards aspect.

I think the move was puzzling most of the opposition, they clearly needed to cover the Apollinaris 'attack' and they seem to be quite good at letting someone else do all the work. However in their excitement in getting a free ride they all seemed to have forgotten me sat at the back. Perhaps it was just an oversight, maybe they thought I was spent after my lap long escape, whichever it was it'll be their funeral as Dad would say.

It was only as we dropped towards the pseudo autobahn again that 'my' girls lost complete control of the front, however those that took over the lead were really just playing into our hands. I used the shelter of the peloton to take a few places free of effort on that descent, it was probably only when I lit the blue touchpaper as we started the rise into Springe that some of them cottoned on to our tactic.

The MC was going bananas when I turned into the Marktplatz, he'd got the crowd at a good boil, slapping the barriers and yelling encouragement. Not that I was taking a great deal of notice, all my thoughts were on getting to the line first. I sensed rather than saw someone coming up on my left, to tell the truth, my legs were on fire but I kept pushing, the bike bouncing a bit over the setts.

There was no margin for celebration – sprinting one oh one, never celebrate until you are certain of the result, even seasoned pro's have been known to fall for that one. The body, one of the Trek riders, came past me but not until I had taken the prize, oh yeah, Gaby Bond two, the rest nil! I let my momentum carry me for a bit as more riders came through, some clearly not realising the duplicity of Apollinaris even now.
 

"So?” Neet enquired as we regrouped on the road out of Springe.
"The Trek girl,” I paused to gulp from my bidon.
"Damn!”
"Let me finish.”
“'kay.”
"She was close but I had her for half a wheel!”
"So we shan't be leaving empty handed wahatever happens now,” Nita sighed.
"Well I'm pooped.”
"Not the only one,” Gret got out as she came alongside.
"What now Cap'n?” Mand chimed in from the other side.
"Get to the finish?”
"I'm up for that,” I allowed.
"Well I think we pulled a lot of fangs and no one's gonna be brave enough to attack with over forty K to go,” Ron opined.
"Or daft enough,” I mused.
"Come on Bond, what you thinking?” Manda chivvied.
"What if we sort of slowed things down on the singletrack, maybe someone or a couple of someones could slip off the front?”
"Okay,” Neet whispered across, "I'll buy it, you and?”
"Ut uh, not me i've done my time, how strong you feeling Ron?”
"Okay I guess.”
"Any other volunteers?” Nita enquired.
"I'm game, I guess,” Mand offered.
"Okay,” Neet stated, "Now all we need is to get back on the front.”

 
Of course, having a plan and being able to execute it are not always mutually acceptable, our success at putting this one into action was far from assured. We had a few kilometres of exposed road before the lane and I think it was a combination of the almost hundred kilometres in everyones legs and the desire to let someone else do the graft that turned things in our favour. We didn't do the swamp move that we had for the prime, instead we just integrated our selve into the loose rotation that was moving the race forward.

By the time we turned into the village that marked the start of the narrow section, things had calmed some and we were all pretty much together around third wheel. There seemed to be a fair bit of worried looking around in front of us so when I underbraked to turn over the dual carriageway, there was no real reaction. Like I say, get someone else to do the work.

We turned into the lane and started to ease the speed down, Ron and Mand sat in the more sheltered right hand wheel track, the rest of us doing our best to make it look like we were trying. I checked behind as we reached a low crest, the race was strung away behind us, neither the Aldi or Trek jerseys were in any profusion, it looked like the chance of a bit of rest was too good an invite to miss. Ron moved over which allowed Neet to drop in behind Manda, Gret taking her place.

The scene was set, on the next rise we put the plan into action. From behind us you'd be hard pressed to see that something was happening, with Gret and Neet supplying a reasonable block of the view ahead and me perioiodically swapping sides, the other two simply slipped off the front. A length, then two, the gap increased steadily until any pretense of elastic disappeared.

It was a bit spur of the moment, I flung my arm up, the universal sign for race service.

"What's up?” Nita requested.
"Front tyres getting a bit soft.”
"You want mine?”
"Nah, I'm shot anyhow.”
“'kay.”

The road is of course, barely wide enough for three bikes let alone any other traffic, my service requirement caused issues behind almost immediately as half the race needed to pass me in the space occupied by the rest of the race. Its not like I could get off the road, there was a good half metre high bank where I came to a halt and struggled to get off. The front group were finally past and when the service bike started to slow I waved him through.

Two smaller groups came through before the caravan reached me, when Dad stopped it effectively blocked the road.

"What's up,” Dieter asked as he clambered out.
"Slow front.”

He grabbed one of the spares and was quickly fixing it in place, I had already removed the original.

"There you go, be careful.”

Dieter pushed me along far enough for me to get clipped in, from car stop to moving, thirty seconds max.

The stoppage tho, gave me a chance to get my breath and the narrow lane gave me a helping hand to get back in the fray, whilst I couldn't get past anything, I could reasonably get a tow in the race traffic until I could get past. The railway bridge provided the opportunity to move up, being an extra half a car wider so I slipped through and within a few more meters was on the back of group three. And so my efforts to get back to the front started in earnest.

"She alright?” Dave asked as Dieter jumped back into the Saab's passenger seat.
"Seemed to be.”
"Well she's made an impression, so she shouldn't be too disapointed. What was up with the wheel?”
"Said it was going soft, feels okay to me though,” Dieter observed.
"Have to take her word I guess.”

They caught up to race number one, now tucked in behind the Aldi Sud team car, unable pass on the narrow road. Dave watched his daughter, she had to be tired but she was riding smoothly, certainly comfortably and whilst he'd followed her riding many times before, today she looked more, perhaps mature wasn't the right word, maybe supplese. In the cream senior team jersey she really did look like a smaller version of her mother, same stance on the bike, almost identical pedaling action, there was no doubt that she was her mothers daughter.

 
There wasn't really any neccesity for me to make the effort, to even finish the race, my competitive spirit however wouldn't have it any other way. I stayed in the 'back' group until we got to the Welliehausen road then set off on the wider, flatter tarmac to bridge the gap to the second, middle group. I had thought someone might join me in the effort but clearly none of them were interested.

The gap wasn't huge but it had increased through the single track lane, I could see them in the distance, perhaps as much as two minutes ahead, I got myself comfortable and dug in. I didn't seem to be making much impression but I was at least holding the gap along the valley, it was only when we turned onto the lap's final ascent that I seemed to make up some ground.

But not enough, I was still maybe four hundred metres adrift when they disapearred over the summit. Even amongst a field of women I'm still one of the smallest in the race, going downhill is never going to be my forte, unlike going up where less weight is good, going down I'm at something of a disadvantage. By the time I hit the level I'm sure i'd lost some ground again but I could see them further around the Ring when I reached it.

No musette this lap but I was able to grab a new bidon from Kat who shouted encouragement at my back. Last lap then, thirtyish kilometres, about an hour or so's riding. With the wind behind me I got into a tuck and snicked into a smaller sprocket, the gap to the thirty or so riders ahead started to come down quite quickly, well they weren't going all out whereas I was pretty much.
 

Even so, I didn't tag onto the tail of things for another couple of kilometres, and almost as promptly slipped off again on the first 'proper' climb along the One. Not a great place to be but I regained contact when they eased their effort over the top, making the extra effort to move several places away from being tail end Charlie. This lot did seem more interested in taking part, there was a bit of through and off going on at the pointy end of things, the difference between these and the front group was more luck than intent.

I checked my pockets, hmm, bit of flapjack, few dates, two gels, one energy bar and, yes, a dozen or so gummi bears, add in just over a bidon and a half of water and I should get back. Flapjack then, it might be a bit old school but its tasty and gives a steadier energy release than the dates and bars. It was still in my maw when, for the last time we turned off Route One to start the approach to the main climb once again.

The pace was comfortable, not that I had any intentions, but certainly, with the wind behind it would be a difficult job to escape this group. Along the avenue and into Patchdorf the pace remained just the wrong side of comfortable, it was only when I inadvertently found myself on the front, as we left the village, that I caught sight of the 'leading' group. I say leading, with any luck, Roni and Mand are still ahead, at worst they are in there with Gret and Neet.

Things always seem to concertina on the uphills, we seemed to gain rapidly on the bottom of the ramp and for sure, we did close the distance quite a bit, time though was probably much the same at perhaps ninety, a hundred seconds. It was only as they turned onto the steep incline into the forest that the first signs of doom or was it hope appeared. First one, then a second rider slid out the back, the pace and effort having proven too much for them.

A similar thing would no doubt impact our group shortly making it imperative to keep away from the back of the pack, however tempting it might be. Of course we quickly ate the road between the drop off's and ourselves, I was pleased that Gret wasn't one of them, climbing is not really her best ability, living and training on the Northern Plain doesn't give her, or Tali for that matter, much serious climbing practice.

Those going backwards caused group two to splinter as we ascended through the forest, someone picks the wrong wheel and suddenly you have a gap. At this distance I still couldn't identify riders but I could see some Apollinaris cream mixing with the smorgasbord of colour further up the road. As the grade eased towards the summit the distance stretched again, we aren't going to bridge yet, if at all.

 
Meanwhile just over a kilometre along the road.

"Can you see 'em?”
"Nothing,” Ron stated as she moved back across the road, "Its all down hill from here.”
"Hardly,” her companion scoffed, taking a slug from her bottle.
"Metaphorically,” Ron allowed.
"I never thought we'd actually stay away,” Mand mentioned.
"You couldn't bet on it, one week they'll chase anything into the ground, the next they just seem to forget there's anyone away, its much more aggressive in the low countries and the Italians, are...”
"Italian?”
"You know what I mean.”
"I though Gab might come up to us,” de Vreen noted.
"She's probably well tired after that lap on her own.”
"I'm not feeling that fresh myself.”
"But there are two of us. Come on, less talk, more riding.”

 
We were never going to make much impression on the wind assisted descent to 'that' corner of course, it might not be steep but its fast. We could see them ahead, like us, bums in the air, milking the road of every milligram of speed. Even here though, on the downhill, a few were being tailed off, if they are reduced enough, it gives us more chance of closing the gap.

We made the turn and for the last time formed echelons as we raced almost directly into the wind. I desperately wanted to fish in my pocket for a fig or two but I didn't dare the way the wind was buffeting us. Finally, after what felt like hours we turned, the flatter road some relief even as the wind continued to trouble us. The gap to group one was smaller but a solo crossing would be a big ask – even if I was fresh and after all, I don't need to be up there, do I?
 

"You think Gab's in there?” Gret queried as Neet came back through.
"I'm sure its one of our jerseys I can see.”
"Probably spitting feathers if I know Gab.”
"If she's there or not, she's had a good race,” Nita stated.
"Yeah, proper Rattenfänger!”
"I hope the others are okay,” Nita mused.
"If they get to the single road they'll bag it,” Gret whispered back with some confidence.
"Lets hope they get there then, Anna Koslowski is looking a bit itchy.”
"Who she?”
"Aldi Sud, long black hair?”
"Best make sure she doesn't get to scratch the itch then,” Gret grinned.
"I'll watch your back.”
 

Dropping into Springe was less frenetic this time, still fast but there was a more controlled purpose within the pack rather than chasing to stay in contact. The crowds on the Marktplatz were a little less vociferous this time, it was certainly more relaxed for me. Its still a good run to the finish so around me riders were taking on the last of their food stuffs, I finished my figs, there were only three, and crossed my fingers that they wouldn't do a repeat of that race last year – yeah I know, too much information.

I'm sure, when we were crossing those open fields again, that I could see the flashing lights at the head of the race. If it was, and if it was still Mand and Roni, they've got a significant lead, I won't say unassailable, that'd be tempting fate but i'd be reasonably comfortable with it at this stage in a race. On the other hand the dozen or so in the front peloton looked to have a less certain future, we outnumber them almost two to one, we just need to get our metaphoric fingers out.
 
Maddy Bell © 05.05.2021

Gaby Book 26 On The Edge by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2021 Madeline Bell Seventeen - it's a birthday overshadowed by its predecessor and successor and Gaby's looks set to follow that pattern. There are however big decisions to be made, should she grab life by the horns and experience everything it has to offer or take the more conservative, safer route through life. This volume, the 26th in the Gaby series has all the elements of classic Gaby, bike riding, teenage angst, developing relationships, grist to the mill for our heroine as life in the Ahrtal ticks on.

 
There were a lot of jaded faces when I looked around, well I wasn't exactly full of energy myself. The gap up to the front group had eroded a bit but seemed to have stalled after we made the next turn, we didn't seem to be riding any slower so it was probably those ahead reacting to our approach. Unless we are pretty much up to them by the single track I think our race will be all but over.

I rescued a couple of gummi bears from my pocket, hmm the bears might not consider it a rescue given they were straight into my mouth. Some riders prefer jelly babies but I don't like the sort of floury texture, but that aside, a couple of Haribo® 'bears' provide a nice little sugar kick thats easily carried and handled. A couple of other 'girls' were taking on supplies, that indicates that they might be up for a bit of action, well Gab's, nothing ventured.

There was a slightly sheltered stretch of road coming up so I manouvered myself further forward to make use of the geography. Well they say great minds think alike, just as I commited to go, two others took off from behind me along the leeward side of the bunch. As I was already out of the saddle it didn't take me much effort to tag on the back, by the sounds behind, others were keen not to be left behind either.

This would never succeed if we left all the work to one person, our loose alliance quickly fell into a rotation, when I slid back after my turn I was happy to see we were seven in number. The added impetus saw us close the gap quite rapidly over the next kilo or so, enough that we were under a hundred metres adrift when we turned off for the single lane road. I couldn't identify individuals but I could see two, and only two cream Apollinaris shirts up there, so Roni and Manda must still be away.

One of the prime movers in this last assault was the girl from RSV Magdeburg, her more traditional white, blue and yellow strip easy to recognise amondt the trendy single colours and fades currently in favour. I guess it was a case of nothing to lose, everything to gain. We might be almost in touching distance but we could still fail in our mission, I dropped a gear and made a last big effort through the village. Magdeburg came through as we turned to cross the bridge over the dual carriageway, keeping our momentum going when those ahead eased to turn into the lane.

I was almost on fumes now, rubbery legs flapping around, well thats what it felt like but with just two of us we were quicker than the pack ahead on the narrow lane, the final few metres were crossed and I mentally sighed in relief. A look behind revealled the carnage of this last effort, our former companions were dangling, still about fifty metres in arrears, the rest of the group turned into the lane maybe a further two hundred behind. It had taken pretty much a full lap but I was back at the sharp end, well the tail end of it at any rate.
 

There were a couple of accelerations as we negotiated the narrow section, but each time things settled back to comfortable. It was difficult to see from the back but I'm guessing they were escape attempts, to be honest I was too tired to do anything other than follow the wheels in front. We popped out onto the main road for the last time, you could see the tension lifting from shoulders, the wider roadway allowing the double thickness string to become a tighter, wider group.

"Hey,” Nita greeted, "You made it.”
"Eventually,” I allowed, "I didn't think i'd end up quite so far back.”
"It happens, so you okay?”
"Apart from lead legs? Yeah, I'll get there, Ron and Mand are still away I guess?”
"Yeah, I think we closed a bit coming through the lane but the last time check was one fifty.”
"There's only ten to go.”
"Best not count our chickens.”
"Indeed,” I agreed, "Best keep a lid on this lot then.”

Ten kilometres, one last draggy ascent then its the fast drop into Hameln, the last half kilometre through the old town and then it'll be over. With three riders from the fourteen in the depleted peloton we were number strong, Trek and Aldi Sud each having two along with another outfit sponsored by Paulaner Bier, the rest being singletons like my 'friend' from Magdeburg. Gret was looking like I felt but she managed a grin when I joined her on escape watch.
 

"I've had it,” Mad gasped,
"Don't give up now, its nearly all downhill now,” Ron encouraged, truth be told she was running on reserve herself.

They'd worked well together, encouraging each other, Mand pacing them on the hills, Ron keeping the pace going on the more exposed roads. Its fair to say that most of their advantage was gained on this same climb last time around, then it was Ron struggling to hold Amanda's wheel. From a maximum of nearly four minutes, they'd been losing ground since that Springe place, at the bottom of the hill the board suggested it was under a minute and a half, they had to keep going.

"Seriously Ron, you go on, we don't want to both be caught.”
Roni made her decision, "Okay, look, hang on to my wheel as long as, it might give you enough to stay in front.”
"Maybe,” Manda allowed, mentally preparing for one last effort.
 

If it was me, i'd be looking at making any last gasp attack on the final climb, its not but looking around, others were working from the same game book. The three of us riding in cream can hopefully marshall some attacks but we're not superhuman, there's a chance someone could break free. I reached for more gummi bears, a mental boost more than a physical one, even Haribo doesn't work that quickly!

The first challenge came almost immediately, Gret supplied the anchor to the Trek rider, barely had that been contained and both the Aldi girls went. Neet chased after them, when Gret blocked by drifting across the carriageway they faltered. But it wasn't over yet, two more attempts were made, I sat on one and Nita thwarted the next but it was all for nought, neither one of us could answer when Magdeburg made her effort.

I think its fair to say that we were all running on fumes by the time up became down, the escapee was long gone, all we could do was cross our fingers and hope. Of course, as I'll be the first to point out, its never over until the fat lady sings (other size women are available!) so we hung in with the remains of the peloton on the descent. There's one long straight bit on the way down where we could see the assorted flashing lights at the head of things but of the three riders between us, there was no real clue to position.

Several girls had been tailed on that last climb which left just six of us, Gret was doing yo-yo off the back and my legs were somewhere between my hips and feet and still going around, more by momentum than my volition. We reached the valley floor and crossed the Ring into the Altstadt, it wasn't super technical but there were plenty of tight turns before we hit the pedestrian zone and our way became hedged by crowd barriers. The crowd were loud, the PA even more so, not that I was taking that much notice, just getting here was enough.

One last turn then the finish arch was in sight. Can you believe it, the remaining Trek rider started finessing, I mean come on, the podium is decided, we're looking at minor placings at the end of an attritional race and they're playing pat a cake? Well if you are going to muck about, on your heads it is.

I was at the back of the group so when, with a hundred metres to go I launched, they weren't expecting it. It felt like I was riding in quicksand, my legs complaining at this further abuse as I headed for the line. The red mist started to cloud my vision, I really am on the limit here, my senses shutting down, blocking out everything except the diminishing tunnel I was heading into.
 

"Gaby, can you hear me?”

Someone gently slapped my cheeks.

"Ungh.”
"Here,” a can of something was pressed to my lips.
I took a gulp and almost choked as the fizzy cola erupted in my mouth.

"Whoa, steady girl, sip.”

A deep breath then another try, better this time.

"She okay?” another voice, Nita maybe, enquired.
"I think so,” I think it was Kat replied, "I'll get the race doctor to check her out.”
 

Its a team Apollinaris tradition that we all eat together after a race, Dad says it builds team moral, I think its because its an extra hour or so before someone has to drive. Whatever the excuse, its a tradition I quite like, and today I am starving, well not in the literal sense but sat here with a plate of beef roulade, pommes and sauerkraut, I'm struggling to lift my fork. Yep, I really did empty the tank today, was it worth it? Hell yeah, two primes and fourth on the line.

Of course, you don't know the result do you? Well the girl from RSV Magdeburg, after dropping us on that last climb had descended like the devil herself, catching and dropping Mands just before they reached the ring. Ron had seen her coming, it was a good thing she had looked behind to see where Mand was, it meant she pushed on, crossing the line about ten lengths ahead of the chaser. Of course, Mand held on for third so whilst it wasn't a clean sweep, we did get three in the first four, Neet was sixth and Gret held on for ninth – I think George will be pleased.
 

"So what do you think about senior racing?” Nita asked as we headed back to the cars, stomachs replete.
"Interesting but a bit disapointing, I thought it would be more, I dunno, organised.”
"These domestic races are often like this, the big internationals are better.”
"Yeah it was like no one wanted to stick their neck out.”
"George calls it reactionary riding,” Ron, still on a high from her success,“ mentioned.
"Well I think you can safely say that they'll all remember this years Rattenfänger Grand Prix,” Neet opined.
"Wonder how they've got on in Me-hico?” Mand mused.
"Probably still racing,” Neet offered.
"What? At this time?” Gret exclaimed.
"Time difference, they're five or six hours behind Europe,” Kat supplied.

Its easy to lose track of time on race days, we finished the race a couple of hours ago but its only six now.
 

"Dave,” Ron called over to where Dad and Dieter were talking, "I spoke to mum, you want to stop off in Mettmann for coffee?”

Hmm, that probably means some of Angela's torte, please say yes Dad.

"If she doesn't mind an invasion, I'm sure the girls would appreciate a comfort stop.”
"I'll take that as a yes then,” Ron almost giggled, "Nine o'clock?”
"Maybe a bit before if its a clear road.”
"I'll let her know.”

Yes! If there's one thing i've missed since Ron moved up to the senior squad, its Angela's cake after the races.
 

Dad decided to take the more northerly route back, we'd pick up the autobahn network much quicker and on a Sunday evening, with no HGV traffic, even down through the Ruhrgebiet would be pretty quiet. Not that I got to see much of it, we bade our farewells with Gret and her father, we'll see them again next weekend of course. I elected to sit in the back with Mand and the luggage, by the time we'd followed the Weser out to the motorway my eyelids were drooping, I was in the land of the faeries shortly afterwards.
 

'Riding through dust clouds and barren wastes
Galloping hard on the plains
Chasing the redskins back to their holes
Fighting them at their own game
Murder for freedom the stab in the back
Women and children are cowards, attack

Run to the hills
Run for your lives
Run to the hills
Run for your lives'

I was belting out the Iron Maiden lyrics at the top of my voice, behind me Stefan and the guys were enthusiastically providing the musical accompaniment, the video wall had a manga style interpretation of the songs 'story' running and I was bathed in the light of two Super Trooper spotlights. I shook my mane of poppy red hair to the interlude beat as Stefan did his guitar solo, drops of sweat splashing onto the legs of my skin tight shiny PVC leggings, legs slightly askew for better balance in the stupidly high spike heeled ankle boots. The monitor at the edge of the stage was counting down, five, four, three, two, one and...

Soldier blue in the barren wastes
Hunting and killing's a game
Raping the women and wasting the men
The only good Indians are tame
Selling them whiskey and taking their gold
Enslaving the young and destroying the old

Run to the hills
Run for your lives
Run to the hills
Run for your lives

Yeah
Ah, ah, ah, ah

The crowd were singing as loud as the speakers were putting my voice across the arena, a wall of noise.

Run to the hills
Run for your lives
Run to the hills
Run for your lives

Animal went into his big drum finale, the other band members stopped playing, I nodded my head in time with the last two bars before the final beats ended our rendition. The lights went up, the crowd were going potty.

'BlauHase, Gaby, BlauHase, Gaby, BlauHase, Gaby, BlauHase, Gaby.”

The noise and stamping feet were sending vibrations through the stage, through the whole place, the tremors getting more violent as the seconds passed.
 
"Gaby, Gaby,” more shaking, I had to hang on to the Mic stand to stay on my feet, such was the shaking.
"Gaby!”
"What? Where?”
"Wake up, we're at Roni's.”

Roni's?

"Eh?” I mumbled.
"Come on,” Mand chivvied giving me another shake.

My brain finally engaged drive, allowing me to sit up and take in my surroundings, it was dark beyond the glass, the reflection from the Saab's interior preventing a view of anything beyond a couple of vague lumps of light. A cold breeze rushed in as Manda opened her door causing me to involuntarily succumb to a deep shiver with associated 'brrrr!'. Dad and Kat were already out of the car, seems like I'm last – again.

I searched the pile of clothing I was nested in for my jacket, you know, the nice warm down ski jacket from Austria, scrabbled on the floor for my bag then braved the cool March evening of the Düssel valley. It was actually not as inky black as it looked from inside the car, the tinted glass cuts out most of the streetlights output and even the glow from Düsseldorf that lights the sky to the west. I quickly shrugged into my coat and shut the door before heading towards the Grönberg's tidy home.

There was a chirp behind me as the remote locked the car, "Come on kiddo,” Dad called from the doorway, "Good sleep?”
"Er yeah,” I allowed, shielding my eyes from the bright interior.
"Here she is,” Angela stated having spotted my arrival, "Go on through, coffee's nearly ready.”

The mere mention of coffee alerted my bladder, I headed for the downstairs facility rather than the noise of the family room.

 
"I didn't think I was gonna make it, that Stevens woman was coming up like a Panzer,” Ron regaled to her audience.

Of course, her and Mand had relived their adventures to the rest of us over 'dinner' earlier, this telling was for Angela and Marcus, her parents. She was still on a high, after all its the biggest win of her career and her first in the salaried ranks, yeah she's got every right to be bouncing. By the look on Nita's face, their shared journey to Mettmann had been heavily laced with the 'telling' of the race in every minutae.

"We should make a move,” Dad hinted.
"I guess,” I sighed, "College in the morning, no rest for the wicked eh?”
"Thank's for feeding us Angela,” Kat mentioned.

Well you didn't think we'd escape with coffee and cake did you? I didn't see anyone turning down the Gulaschsuppe even if we did eat a good meal back in Hameln. We bade our farewells, Neet was staying with the Grönberg's for the night rather than driving home to Venlo, the four of us reluctantly returning to our transport for the last leg back to the Ahrtal.

Despite two cups of coffee at the Grönberg's, I was still a bit drowsy and I joined the already gentley snoring de Vreen in the land of slumber before we reached Köln. This time it was the slumber of the exhausted, no dreaming, no half measures, one minute I was looking at the strobe from us passing streetlighting, the next, nothing. We obviously made good time on the quiet roads as I was prodded back into consciousness in time to see the car clock roll from 23:59 to 00.00.

 
Maddy Bell © 10.05.2021