I looked in the mirror, at least Lolita make up isn’t too complicated, bit of concealer under the eyes to cover my still baggy eyes, candy pink lippy, job done. Something nagged as being wrong though, silly plastic flower earrings – check, hair curled and pinned – check, no something else.
Then it hit me, my nose ring – not exactly Loli is it? I fiddled with my nostril decoration and eased it from my flesh. Of course now when I looked in the mirror my head said there was something missing. I suppose over the last couple of months I've got used to having the nose stud, it feels wrong without it, I searched in my jewellery box and found the zippy of stuff Jules gave me.
That's better, the tiny silver flower glinted from my nostril and I grinned to myself, quick spray of ‘eau de ten year old’ - well do it right, the slightly sickly strawberry sort of matches the look. I grabbed my wheelie case and headed downstairs.
"Nice look,” Mand suggested with more than a hint of sarcasm.
"Ha de har,” I sniped back – okay I suppose my trainers, pedal pushers and baggy T are a bit at odds with my hair and make up but I am so not travelling for over two hours in full Loli mode.
"Come on then or we’ll miss the Express.”
"Yes mother,” I mocked before grabbing my bag and following her out of the house.
We were down on the street before Mand spoke again, "So what’s going on, Gab?”
"Going on?”
"Don’t play all innocent, you looked like poo yesterday and your Dad looked like thunder all day, what happened on Thursday night?”
"Oh that ‘going on’.”
"There’s more?”
"Er no.”
"Well spill then,” she insisted.
I sighed deeply and gave her a quick synopsis of events, the gig, being sick, Fritzi’s involvement, Ralf’s part in things and of course the subsequent ‘rescue’ by Dad.
"Geez, Gab, you never do anything by halves do you?”
"It was only supposed to be a band, food and maybe a quick snog.”
"Gaby Bond! What happened to ‘not interested in boys’?”
"I'm not!”
"Apart from one in particular, take it he’s a good kisser?”
"Pretty good,” I admitted.
"Ha!”
"We only ever kiss right.”
"And my Dad’s a Dutchman.”
"Er I thought he was?”
"Oh yeah, wrong meta thingy.”
Our arrival at the bakery precluded more discussion, Steff and Con were waiting on the pavement one dressed in pseudo Japanese schoolgirl mode, the other in a reasonable facsimile of a Star Trek uniform.
"See you later,” Mand allowed giving a wave as she headed for the platform when the Rheintal Express pulled into Bonn.
"Yeah, laters!”
"So what’s she doing in Bonn?” Pia queried.
"Meeting a girlfriend from school I think.”
"Bit overdressed,” Bridg suggested.
To be honest I hadn’t taken much notice.
"Boyfriend more like,” Con suggested.
"Yeah, you don’t wear heels and hose to go do homework,” Nena grinned.
I caught sight of de Vreen on the platform, she did look more date ready than girl shopping, yeah, I guess they’re right, maybe she does have a boyfriend?
I tugged my case along the path, peering periodically down at the swirling brown waters of the Rhein. A train noisily passed on the nearest line, I let it disappear up the track before calling ahead.
"You sure we can get there this way?”
"Yes,” several voices chorused back.
I was even gladder that I'd decided to travel in mufti, there was quite a breeze on the Hohenzollernbrücke!. I'd assumed we’d get the train to the Messe and walk to the Lanxess from there but oh no, Bridg had walked from the Hauptbahnhof when she’d been to the ice hockey a bit back so we were walking. To be fair we weren’t the only ones heading for AniCon and I suppose it’s not really that far, I sighed and with another look at the river continued our crossing to Deutz.
Of course finding somewhere to change at the Arena had me wishing I'd changed either on the train or at Kӧln station but oh no, I had to wait. And of course I wasn’t the only one wanting to get into costume so the toilet facilities were sorely pressed. Eventually I got a cubicle, thankfully one of the slightly larger ones that are supposedly disabled friendly.
“’Bout time,” Con huffed.
"Sorree, you ever tried putting bloomers on in a cubicle? Where’re the others?”
"Gone ahead,” she offered as we started towards the arena space.
I spotted the cloakroom, hmm, "I'll leave this in the Garderobe.”
My BF did the eye rolling thing, "Whatever.”
Ten minutes later we were all together in the hall, half a dozen teenagers amongst the hundreds, thousands maybe of largely costumed attendees. It’s been a while since I've been to such a big event, the last couple have been fairly small events by comparison.
"Looking good, Gabs,” Steff mentioned.
"I try,” I grinned, "So what’s the plan?”
Well the plan was, well no plan. It’s only a one day thing so it’s less about the panels than about being seen and hitting the sales area. We set off into the meleé and soon enough were lost in the sea of bodies.
"What do you reckon?” I asked Nena.
"The job or the bag?”
"Duh!” I waved my hands, each with a cute handbag in its grip.
"The pink one matches your hair.”
"I won’t have pink hair forever.”
"You won’t? I think it suits you, sort of punkish and pretty at the same time.”
"And not my choice if you remember,” I pointed out.
"Still.”
To be honest I agreed with her on the bag front, the pink was maybe a bit nicer than the lemon yellow in my other hand.
"Okay,” I sighed, "Pink it is. So you thought about the job then?”
"Yes.”
"And,” I pressed fumbling in my purse for a twenty euro note to buy the bag with.
"Yes.”
"You just said that.”
"Duurr, yes, I'll take the job.”
"Er cool.” that's one weight off my mind, the downside of course is that instead of my pay being for six days it’ll only be five tops, I've kind of gotten used to having a sizeable wage packet the last few weeks – today is my first chance to spend some of it.
"So you gonna do the campsite still?” I asked as we wandered along again.
"Reckon so, it’s only a couple of hours, I can probably do it in the morning before going to the kiosk.”
"You’ll be rolling in it.”
"I wish, things are a bit tight at home, Claud and stuff.”
"Er right.”
I guess as a teen, you never really think about your friend’s financial situation – heck it’s not something I at least think of on a personal level. Oh we don’t have a new car or the latest big screen TV but neither do my friends, for the most part I'd say we’re comfortably off but not rich by any score. So when someone is so open about family finances it’s a bit, er unsettling. We hurried along to catch up with the others.
"Go on, Gab,” Steff agitated, "You said you were going to.”
"But no one else is,” I pointed out.
"We,” P stated, "Don’t stand a gnats chance, you on the other hand...”
I sort of had to agree, whilst they were dressed in the spirit of things they weren’t even close to some of today’s costumers. I guess if this is your thing you will take it further, some of the costumes must have taken ages to make and cost a fortune. My own dress was made by my cousin, I know it took quite a bit of effort so a full on Disney princess – yeah.
"Alright,” I sighed.
"Yes!” Bridg announced in victory.
"I suppose I'd best go and enter.”
"Already done,” Steff advised, "Eat your sandwich.”
"How’d you...”
"You’re kind of predictable, Gab,” Con smirked, "Any hint of competition and you’re there.”
I idly twirled my parasol as I waited for my turn to walk the stage, out in the audience my ‘friends’ were giggling at something, wouldn’t mind betting it’s something to do with me.
‘And next we have Momoko from Kamikaze Girls,’ the MC announced.
Oops, that's me. I climbed up and adopted my Momo persona before walking the walk. Yeah, it doesn’t matter how good your costume, if you don’t characterise you still won’t win, not that I thought I'd got much chance of that, not with some of the stuff I've seen in the hall. I ended my transit and joined the other Lolitas at the far end of the stage.
Another handful of Loli’s joined us before we all did a parade across and back for the judges. It’s all fairly quick, we’d barely reassembled before the result was passed to the MC.
‘Our Lolita winner today,’ the MC paused, ‘Momoko!, number twenty three, come on out!’
No one moved, I wondered who the other Momo was.
"That’s you,” the girl beside me hissed.
"Me?”
She lifted my hand bearing the card with my entry number on.
"Yep, you sure enough, well done.”
"Er thanks.”
I finally got my legs to work and went to collect my prize.
Of course winning my group meant automatic entry into the overall final which in turn meant having to wait through the Sci Fi and Disney competitions first. Some of those costumes – well spectacular to say the least although once you’ve seen one Snow White… Eventually however it was final time and I lined up between Mario and Cinderella.
We were all cheered across the stage but it was pretty clear that a mere Loli wasn’t in the same league as the more ornate stuff. I might not have picked the Gundam costume as winner myself but I reckon the lad was a worthy winner.
"Thought you were a shoe in,” Bridg moaned.
"How much?” I asked.
"Twenty,” she sighed.
Yeah, it’s not just me that’s competitive.
"Sugar,” Steff gasped.
"What?” Con enquired.
"If we’re gonna make the train we need to make tracks.”
"That is so lame,” Nen observed, “train, making tracks.”
"Seriously guys, we’ve got like half an hour to get the Rheintal.”
"Bum!” I allowed.
"Made it,” P announced as we slipped into the already almost full carriage.
We found a space halfway up the stairs, I pushed the handle of my case down and perched on the top.
"My feet are killing,” I suggested.
"Well put your trainers on then,” Con suggested.
Of course there hadn’t been time to more than collect my bag from the Garderobe so I'm still in my Loli stuff including the shoes – which were not designed for a thirty minute route march. And topping on the cake, it started to rain halfway across the river so we are all a little damp. Oh well, could be worse, some of my con outfits have been somewhat less suitable for public consumption!
Maddy Bell © 17.04.17
“Bonn all right?” I queried of de Vreen as I made supper.
"Okay I guess.”
"Only okay? what’d you do?”
"Er pictures?”
"Really? All in German?”
"And your point?”
"Just saying, I didn’t think kids at your school went for the whole native thing.”
"You don’t have to be English or Canadian or whatever to go you know, there are some German kids too.”
"And your friend, whatsisname is German I take it?”
"Might be, what’s with the hundred questions?”
"Nothing, just interested like.”
"Hmm”
The name might be Bond but I'm no good at this information extraction business, I'll have to get Ron on the case tomorrow.
"So where is this Königsforst place?” I queried as we rumbled up towards Düsseldorf.
“’Bout ten K east of Kӧln,” Dad supplied, "Should only take us about half an hour from the Grönberg's.”
This’ll be almost the last time we do this, collecting Ron and her mum on the way to a race that is. The end of an era I guess although I don’t suppose Dad’ll mind an extra hour in bed on race days! And of course there’s days like this when we are doing extra distance in the wrong direction – I'm gonna miss coming up to Mettmann.
I read through the race notes for the Königsforst Grand Prix, hmm, four laps, about seventy eight K starting at some place called Forsbach. Dad’s printed off a map, it looks pretty straightforward, not too much hill or corners to worry about. And no series jersey to make me a target either.
Ron and Angela were waiting for us when we arrived thirty minutes later and we were quickly on our way again, back down towards Kӧln.
Once at the HQ, the local junior school, us three girls went to sign on whilst the adults sorted out Apollinaris central.
“It’s gonna be weird not doing this,” Ron mentioned as we joined the queue to race.
"You still have to sign on at pro races,” I mentioned.
"Duh!” Mand opined.
“I meant coming to races with you guys,” Ron established, "And Mum not being about.”
"She’ll get to some races though?” Mand suggested.
"A few,” Ron allowed, "You’ll probably see her more than I will.”
"How do you figure that?” I posed.
"Your dad’s asked her to help with this training camp thing.”
"Won’t that be awkward without her driving?” Mand queried.
"She’ll stay at the house most of the time and it’s not that bad to get to on the Bahn.”
"Gaby!” A familiar voice trilled across the room.
"Looks like your number one fan’s racing,” Mand mentioned with a chuckle.
“Barb,” I greeted one half of the double act, "No Fran?”
By now Barbie Friebe had reached us.
"Ladies I think, didn’t expect to see you guys here today.”
"No big race this week,” Ron told our friend.
"Ah,” she nodded.
Back outside the grey morning was even greyer, a fine drizzle damping the ground, Dad had the turbo’s ready under the easy up.
‘...Be careful on the turns, especially turn four’ the Commisaire advised, ‘the lane is quite narrow and there is quite a lot of loose gravel. There is neutral service, if the race splits it will follow the lead group, you can take static service here in Feldstraße, there’s a marked zone.’
It was pretty much the usual stuff of course, just wish we can get on, I'm getting wet stood here.
‘The neutral zone ends at the de-limit sign, no racing before please.’
I looked along the line of riders, for some reason this event has attracted quite a few girls. Dunno why, despite the fancy name it’s not much more than a chipper but I guess the flattish parcour is attractive to less able climbers. The familiar Wülfrath and Sporting Düssel jerseys of Fran and Barb beyond Ron and Mand to my right, faces I recognise but don’t know to the left. We were lined up on the school playground, the local emergency services are apparently marshalling the junctions and we were now awaiting our police escort to give the signal to start.
A few cars flashed past the gateway and then a quick siren blast gave the signal and we were waved off.
I’m not sure what’s worse, starting in the rain or it starting during a race, the only good thing this morning is that it’s not heavy. Yes the road is wet but you can at least see where you’re going and so far there isn’t much in the way of standing water. We negotiated the gateway and soon gained a bit of speed, I don’t usually like being on the front too much but with that wet - well it’s pretty much the safest place to be.
Our escort cycled his siren again and a damp looking kid waved the green ‘race go’ flag – game on! There was an almost immediate movement of bodies and bikes, one, two, three – in the end seven lads went past. Of course this sort of thing happens a lot at these local level events, been there, done that.
"What do you reckon?” Ron asked.
"Dunno,” I admitted, “could be a ringer in there.”
"They do it every week,” Fran supplied.
"Does it work?”
"Not usually,” Barb filled in.
"Guess we just keep a watch then,” Mand suggested.
The road surface of pressed chippings made it a bit dead besides holding the wet. The escapees quite quickly opened a reasonable gap and it would be easy to panic and waste energy chasing them down. With the intel from Barb and Fran I was happy enough to let them have their heads and it seemed like the rest of the field were content to let the girls in blue set the pace.
We were around the first turn before there was anything like any movement from the rest of the peloton. This time it was a lad in the garish black and yellow strip of RS Düren, a lad I recalled from more than one recent event. Damn we’re gonna have to do something now.
He’d clearly moved up in advance of making a move, I gave the others a look, a nod, a move of the eyes, we had a plan. The road kinked right then as it dipped back to the left Düren boy made his move, we were at least ready, Mand was on his wheel before he was even clear of the front rank. Much like the initial escape this one quickly gained ground but this time there was a chance, albeit small that it could succeed.
The scene was set, a look around the remaining bunch confirmed that any more moves would be quite unlikely.
Ahead, the escapees advantage was now holding steady, through the next village we lost sight of both groups temporarily but after the next turn they returned to view. I certainly didn’t want to expend too much energy but sitting at the front of the bunch wasn’t exactly saving energy either. Although it bobbles up and down a bit, the road is arrow straight for about four kilometres, and today it’s four kilometres into the light wind and the rain it’s carrying.
Damn. I quick hand signal to Ron as a warning and I upped the speed from the steady twenty five to something closer to thirty five. Ron came through to share the pace but I was surprised to find about another dozen riders on her wheel including Barb and Fran. Well if they are going to work.
It was pretty, it wasn’t well oiled but from riding steady piano to quick rotation seemed to breathe some energy to affairs and we were now quickly eating into the leaders’ advantage. More importantly from my point of view, I wasn’t doing all the work, oh I was getting sprayed but it was bearable. Somewhere along the straight Düren and Mand overtook the initial break, it was therefore those chancer's we passed shortly before the dodgy turn four.
The narrower lane had a bit of a negative effect on our rotation, some of our number clearly a bit nervy. Behind though there was no longer really a bunch at all, our counter move having been enough to break the rest of the field into a string of smaller groups with single riders hovering between them. The leaders certainly had the advantage along the lanes length but a near hairpin turn five returned us to a wider, better surfaced road.
We started to reel Mand and friend in as we gained momentum, the damp breeze on our left shoulders. A couple of our number lost contact as the speed headed up towards forty, I was pleased to see the fan girls still doing their bit. It seemed barely a couple of minutes before we were making the turn into Feldstraße to complete the lap.
Düren boy and Mand returned to the fold outside* the school, three laps to go; hopefully three quieter laps. The group’s speed dropped back again, the general consensus being of job done. Well it works for me, it’s not like there’s a bunch of riders chomping at the collective bit.
Any sense of rotation was soon forgotten so we congealed into an amorphous blob of bikes and riders. The rain increased in intensity which did nothing to encourage action. It did however spark an idea.
We slogged around the lap, the wind on that straight causing something of an echelon to form. By the time we exited the lane for a second time the rain had stopped and the remaining band of brothers – and sisters, once again upped the pace. Our number was just about sufficient to ‘get lost’ occasionally, a chance to refuel as well as conserve a bit of energy.
The supporters were more enthusiastic this time through, no doubt buoyed by the let up in the weather’s hostilities. The heavier rain last time around left its own legacy, it might not be really raining but now we had puddles to dodge. Annoying and several times I got a face full of mucky water when a change of course wasn’t possible.
"We staying here all day?” Mand asked as we approached ‘the straight’.
"Wasn’t planning on it.”
She gave me a questioning look.
"Here next time if nothing happens before.”
"Don’t be surprised if that lad that went earlier tries something.”
"Wish he would,” I lamented.
We puddle dodged along, the rain holding off for now and there was a bit more enthusiasm within the group. Düren still looked the most likely to do anything worthwhile, I was therefore a little surprised when another lad tried his luck going into the lane – damn. I'd taken my eye off the action for a moment and missed the move, Ron on the other hand was in hot pursuit, Düren on her tail and another lad after him.
Mand set off as soon as she could clear the rest of the bunch leaving me still stranded at the back. Not good, not good at all, keep calm, girl, think. I took a chance as soon as the road straightened a bit, I dropped a sprocket and sprinted along the left hand gutter past the dogged progress of Fran, Barb and the other remaining members of our group.
Well it got me out of the box but the escape was well up the road. Nothing for it I guess, I put my head down and hit the turbo boost button, well I changed down a gear anyway. The others weren’t waiting for me, if I'm gonna get back in contention I'm gonna have to do it on my own.
I didn’t make any real progress until we were back on the downwind leg, my time trialling abilities just about overcoming their superior numbers. It took me all the way back to the HQ to get within touching distance by which time the rain was making another appearance. I gave Mand a dirty look when I finally got into the escape group, two can play at that game.
The rain intensified, still quite fine but wind driven forcing sheets of wet across us, as if we weren’t already wet enough. And then it was like the heavens had split, a cloudburst heavy enough to reduce visibility to our escorts red tail light. Yes! I stood up and sprinted forward, as the others were slowing, I was accelerating, I was soon alongside the Polizei motorrad.
As quickly as it started the rain was easing off but I was committed now, as the escort sped up I did my best to hold it. I resumed time trial mode, I reckon it’s about fifteen K to the finish, doable but any real chase could kill my chances. Will the girls work for me or chase me down, well I guess Dad did give us carte blanche today.
I flicked a quick glance under my arm as I turned onto the long straight, I’ve got some good road between us. One good thing is that I can pick my own line around the sizeable puddles, small delight. The key thing now is to not repeat Benrath, to not overreach, yeah I don’t want any kind of repeat of that episode.
Maddy Bell © 17.04.17
I took it steady into the lane, quickly returning to TT mode once clear of the corner. The hairpin turn almost caught me out, one moment I'm racing along with some gusto, next the motorbike in front has its brakes on and my brakes are struggling to slow me. Eventually stopping power kicked in and I negotiated the corner safely leaving the wind assisted run in to Forsbach and the finish less than five kilometres away.
Top gear was engaged and the metres whizzed by, I closed up on the Police bike a bit and actually slipstreamed for a few seconds before he clocked me – well a girl has to try. There might not be any proper climbing on this circuit but the slight drag here felt like riding in syrup. The back side of course is that the final couple of K loses a few metres in height, just enough to take the edge off.
The merest twinge of cramp shot through my right leg, not now! I kept pushing, hopefully I can ride through it, why now? If you’ve ever had cramp you know the signs, the muscle lock, the pain, the overriding desire to give in to it, I gritted my teeth and maintained my effort.
I risked a look under my arm as the road bent slightly to the left, the chasers looked to be gaining, my advantage looked less than last time I looked. But there’s the kilo marker, come on Gab, you can do it. Another shot of cramp spasmed through my calf, breaking my pedalling action for a moment, I freewheeled a moment to stretch the leg, seemed to work.
My escort stopped ahead, lights all a flash, I recognised the turn into the finish, not far now. Out of my aero crouch, cover the brakes, use the corner to stretch the leg again and go for it. The Feldstraße straightened out to reveal the finish two hundred away, come on.
The ‘crowd’ shouted encouragement, are they coming up on me? Dare I check? Another shot of cramp made that decision, a quick glance behind revealed they were close but surely not close enough, I mean I've got less than a hundred to go. Fifty, twenty five, my face in a grimace I stopped pedalling, sat up and gave a victory salute.
Shouting behind me suggested the minor placings were being hotly contested, I headed towards the kerb out of the way.
"You alright, kiddo?” Dad asked as I collapsed to the ground.
"Cramp,” I managed, my face contorted in a rictus of pain.
He quickly had my leg raised and started massaging the now rigid muscles.
“Alright?” an orange clad paramedic enquired from behind Dad.
“Just a bit of cramp,” Dad replied.
“Let’s get her somewhere a bit better, they’ll want to reopen the road.”
To be honest I couldn’t care less as long as the pain goes away. Dad ceased his rubbing and the medic picked me up.
“I wish all my patients were as light as you,” he grinned down at me as we started the short journey to the ambulance.
I managed a weak smile through my grimace.
I was still in my wet togs, albeit under trackies, for the presentation which was moved inside as the rain returned in a more determined effort at ark floating. There isn’t much you can do for cramp, relaxing the muscles reduces the pain but beyond that it’s trying to cover all the bases. So I've been sipping an electrolyte drink, keeping warm and stuffing my face with Angela’s triple choc cake – well okay that last isn’t for the cramp but I felt better for it anyway.
The clapping for Mand’s second place fell away. It had been a close thing, Mand, Düren and Ron were split by a wheel just a couple of seconds behind me.
‘And our winner today, riding for Team Apollinaris, Gabrielle Bond!’
I suffered the indignity of Dad lifting me onto the podium as I accepted the plaudits, admittedly I was still having issues with my leg. It might only be a local race but they were keen to do everything right, the podium, trophies for all three of us and even flowers. Oh there were ‘envelopes’ too, a generous hundred euros in mine for winning and being first girl.
The idea of racing on a girls’ licence hadn’t initially filled me with joy, my last connection to the old me being taken away. But I've gained by it several times now, keen to promote prize equality a lot of events offer girl’s prizes that match the overall and whilst some run the ‘one rider, one prize’ others don’t.
"You alright, Gaby?” Fran asked finding me out after all the hullabaloo.
"Er just about.”
"We saw you in the Kranken,” Barb mentioned appearing at her friends elbow.
"Bit of cramp,” I allowed with a shrug.
“I hate that,” Barb advised, "Boys don’t know they’re born.”
What is she on about?
"Er no,” I agreed on principle.
"So you guys at Iserlohn next week?” Fran enthused, "We got in this year.”
“Iserlohn?”
"The National League?” she allowed.
Come to think of it Dad did mention we would be missing one, "Er no, we got an invite to race in England, a three day.”
"Cool!” Barb opined, "Hey, that means we’ve got a chance, Fran.”
"You’ve always got a chance,” I pointed out.
"Not when you guys are racing,” Fran suggested, "But that's cool.”
"Yeah, you guys are an inspiration,” Barb added as I started turning interesting shades of pink.
"Get yourself showered, Gab then we’ll go get some food,” Dad suggested as he carried me back to the Hymer.
“I can walk you know.”
"Think of it as Dad’s prerogative.”
"Yes, Dad,” I sighed clambering into the camper.
At least we can have a shower, I wasted no time stripping out of my wet and dirty cycling clobber and luxuriated in the hot needles until a rap on the door hinted I should desist.
"Not fair,” I called through the door.
"You might not want to eat but others do,” Dad advised.
I turned off the water, “Finished.”
I was still in the bedroom dressing when we started our onward journey.
"Here, Ron,” I shook the envelope at her.
"What’s this?”
"Take a look,” I suggested sagging back into the sofa. Dad has apparently got us booked in to some place halfway back to Mettmann so we’re currently transiting the Bergisherland.
Ron squinted into the folder before withdrawing the notes, "Thirty euros?”
I shrugged, "Me and Mand both got something.”
"But...”
"Don’t look a gift Bond in the mouth,” Mand put in.
"Gab.”
"Think of it as the team prize,” I suggested.
"Hold on,” Dad suggested from up front. A moment later the Hymer swung violently upward as we entered the first of three steep almost hairpins out of the Dhünntal.
We jumped on the E1 for a junction, ten minutes later Dad was parking us up beside a couple of tourist buses at a place called Burg.
"Huh, I can see why we’ve come here,” I snorted.
"Enlighten us,” Mand suggested.
"Down the road,” I pointed.
"Schloss Burg,” Ron supplied peering out of the window.
"Daft name,” Mand opined.
"Bit like that thing in Wales, River Afon translates as river river.”
"Wales?” Ron queried.
"Bit stuck on the side of England,” Mand explained.
"They don’t speak English?”
"Mostly but some of them use Welsh, sounds like someone strangling a Schaf.
”
Mand stifled a laugh.
"What?” Ron asked.
"Erm,” I demurred, "Bit of an English joke, doesn’t translate well.”
"You lot coming?” Angela prompted.
At least the rain has stopped.
The restaurant wasn’t actually in the castle rather it was in the complex around the Burg. And the Schloß isn’t one of those ruins that dot the hilltops, according to Dad it’s been extensively renovated, it certainly looks impressive. We were seated at a table in a fully windowed area overlooking what Ron identified as the Wupper.
"This is all a bit posh,” Mand suggested fingering the white table cloth.
"No less than we deserve,” I joshed.
"Says her highness.”
"What’s that supposed to mean?”
"Nothing.”
"Girls,” Dad stated firmly, “play nice, eh?”
"Sorry, Dad.”
"Sorry, Herr Bond.”
A temporary truce.
“Interesting menu,” Ron offered.
And interesting is putting it mildly, wild boar and venison alongside more, er, cosmopolitan offerings and a smattering of more traditional German fare. Everything in the Speissekarte has some sort of twist and I’m not the only one struggling to make a decision. I'm all for trying different stuff but there’s a lot to be said for the old favourites, the schnitzel is served with croquettes so that's exotic right?
My Schnitzel Camembert wasn’t quite what I'd been expecting when it turned up, in fact I didn’t quite know what to make of it. I'm not one for all this ‘food as art’ business, as long as it’s eatable that's me, but this, between the squiggles of chocolate sauce and decorative raw vegetables looks, er, interesting. I poked at my food, not sure whether to eat it or frame it.
"What’s that?”
"Er, pear, melon,” I advised before tasting the berries, "cranberries.”
"Weird,” de Vreen stated as she sliced into her venison roulade.
"No kidding.”
Oh well, guess I'm stuck with it. I started into the melted Camembert and pork schnitzel, not necessarily a combination I'd recommend.
After eating we had a mooch around the assorted shops, not quite tourist tat, well unless the tourists happen to be particularly well to do.
"Gab,” Ron called across the handicraft store.
"What?” I asked turning my attention from the selection of colourful earrings.
"Baaa!” she waggled a somewhat leggy stuffed sheep at me.
"You should so get that.” I mentioned crossing to join her.
She looked at the tag, "Ten! don’t think so. So what’s with you and Amanda?”
What indeed? Do you know, I'm not really sure myself.
"Time of the month?”
"Come on, Gab, that's a bit low.”
“I really don’t know, boyfriend trouble?”
"She’s got a boyfriend?”
"Well she got well tarted up to go shopping with a ‘friend’ yesterday, you know, heels and stuff.”
"Mum gets dressed up to go shopping,” Ron stated.
"Yeah, but Mand doesn’t,” I pointed out.
"You two coming,” Dad queried from the doorway.
"Er yeah, be right there.”
From Burg it’s not a big distance back to Mettmann but it is a bit convoluted, not made any easier by our mode of transport. The twenty or so kilometres took us nearly three quarters of an hour, we got all the way down to Kӧln this morning quicker. Of course we stopped for coffee and lemon torte – no one in their right mind turns down Angela’s baking.
Maddy Bell © 18.04.17
The Hymer was pretty quiet on the drive back to Dernau, Dad had RadioNRW playing up front, Mand was fiddling with her phone on one seat, me doing the same on the other.
Beep.
I opened the message folder, Ron? Only just left her.
‘M w GF y2d
R’
It took me a minute to decipher the text speak, ‘Mand with girlfriend yesterday’, girlfriend? Oh well, maybe she dressed up because of the cinema. I typed a quick reply and hit send. I guess that's one mystery solved but not why she’s acting off, no that's still, well, a mystery.
I scrolled through the other messages, M. Davis? Best have a look I guess.
‘Hi Gaby hrd u guys r in gb nxt wk, hp 2 c u tn, Mary’
Mary, Mary? Ah, that girl from the York thing.
‘Hi yes, rdale3d G’
"Mand,” Dad called after us as we carted stuff up into the garage.
"Uh huh?”
I kept walking but stopped just out of sight to try to listen in. I missed a bit but Dad was still talking,
“...Caroline’s going to take you down to Croydon next week. You come back with BC at the end of the week, if that’s what you want.”
"Thanks, guess I'd best give ‘em a call then.”
She didn’t sound particularly happy about the arrangement but who can tell with her today? I shuffled over to the laundry room, I mean, if she wants me to know she’ll tell me right? And like I don’t want to admit to eavesdropping, it’s not like I'm a gossip or anything.
"Aaa-argh!” I yawned with an arm wrenching stretch. Yesterdays cramp just a memory, I slept like a log – well after I spent an hour making up various stories that’d explain Mand’s sort of secret trip home.
"You’re up early,” Jules mentioned between her very English toast and jam breakfast.
“Lot to do,” I checked the teapot, hmm still warm.
"Jules, you seen my,” Mand hesitated on seeing me, "Oh it’s you.”
"What you lost, Mand?” Jules oblivious enquired.
"My er Handy.”
"Not seen it,” Jules replied continuing to chomp toast and read the paper.
"You could ring it,” I suggested.
Ignoring me Mand went on, "It’s probably upstairs.”
"We need to go in like five,” Jules called after her, "You two fallen out or something?”
"Or something I guess. Did you know she’s going home next week?”
"She did mention something the other day.”
A clatter on the stairs announced de Vreen’s return, "Found it.”
"We’d best get then,” Jules suggested, “later, Sis.”
"Yeah, later, Mand.”
Dad came down a few minutes later.
"Morning, Dad.”
"Morning, spud, can tell your sister’s home,” he advised putting his copy of Berliner Zeitung back together.
"Tea?”
"Please, I suppose you want a lift?”
"You don’t have to, I could ride.”
"You’ll have to make your own way back, I've got some stuff to sort out for this BC thing. So are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Amanda?”
"Nothing as far as I know.”
"You know she’s going back to her parents after Ryedale?”
I tried to sound surprised, "No, why?”
"Didn’t say, thought you might know.”
"No, I mean she was okay Saturday but she seemed to have a chip on her shoulder at the race.”
"Hmm.”
"You won then,” Con suggested when she arrived at the Kiosk.
"How’d you know?”
"Well dur, you always sing the same tune?”
I hadn’t even realised I was singing, "Er what is it?”
"That funny song from The Queen, Der Radrennen.”
I had to think about that for a moment, der, “Bicycle Race.”
"That’s what I said, you sing it to yourself every time you win. So no crashes or other excitement this week?”
"Nope, well I had a bit of cramp,” I allowed.
"It’s never dull with you eh?”
"So Nen all set for the weekend?” I asked to change the subject.
"I think so,” Con allowed, “guess we’ll find out, eh?”
"I guess.”
We’re doing without Kristin today and tomorrow so she can work the weekend, as a result it felt pretty busy. The regulars come by rain or shine, it’s the tourist trade that's a bit more fickle and although dry so far, today's forecast is decidedly wet later.
"So Max coming for lunch today?” Con enquired in a gap between customers.
"No idea, not spoken to him since Friday.”
"Pah! You guys are so, so...”
"Not a couple?”
"Don’t start that again.”
"Well it’s true.”
"So anyway, I saw P yesterday, she said to tell you she won’t be at cheering tonight, family dinner or some such.”
“’Kay, we still working Wednesday?”
"At the Stube? Far as I know.”
Well that’ll sub my kiosk wages a bit at least.
"You want food?”
"Could do,” Max allowed.
"Pie or schnitzel?”
"Er pie please, you alright, Gabs?”
"Just busy, no Kris today.”
"So erm, your Dad say anything about Thursday?”
"Nope,” I supplied as I shovelled a pile of Frites onto the plate next to today’s pie, a fairly plain beef and onion example of the pie makers art.
"He came round to ours on Saturday.”
"He never said, what for?”
"I got a right grilling, he thought you were experimenting.”
"Experimenting?”
"Drugs, dimbo.”
"Drugs!” I nearly dropped the plate, "Why’d he think that?”
"You did look out of things when he picked us up.”
"I'd just,” I started to squeal.
"Shush, keep it down, Gab.”
"That idiot Ralf had just spiked my drink,” I went on in lowered tones.
"I know that, but your dad doesn’t, didn’t.”
"What do you mean, didn’t?”
"I er told them about Ralf.”
"What’d you do that for, we agreed.”
"I had to tell them, Gab, your dad was talking about sending you away and all sorts.”
"And spilling the beans cleared you.”
"It sort of cleared you too.”
"Sort of?”
"I think your dad still has doubts,” Max opined.
"I suppose it could be worse,” I sighed.
"Hasn’t he said anything at all?”
"Nope, here, you’d best eat this before it gets cold.”
"Er right.”
"What was that all about?” Con queried after Max had departed.
"Fall out from Thursday.”
"Sounded a bit serious,” she probed.
"Over protective father syndrome, Dad went up to Max’s to warn him off taking me to the ‘Rose. It’s not like it’s somewhere I want to go is it?”
"Depends who’s there I guess.”
"Or not.”
"Or not,” she agreed.
"I'm home!” I called out when I got home.
The Hymer is outside so I guess Dad’s using Mum’s A but Mand should be home by now.
"Mand! Jules!”
Silence was the loud reply, oh well.
"Only you?” Dad queried when I went out to meet him at the car.
He rang earlier to say he’d been held up so he’s not been indoors yet.
"Pia’s got some family thing and I've not seen Mand.”
"Hop in then.”
I clambered in and we set off for the Tanzklub.
"So what’s with the long face?” Hannah enquired as we waited for the girls to do their stretches.
"Eventful week.”
"Hardly news where you’re concerned,” she mentioned.
"Well more eventful than usual then.”
“Like?”
"Where do you want to start?”
"Highlights?” she suggested.
"Had a date with Max on Thursday which my Dad gatecrashed.”
"That it?”
"Oh that was just the topping, the ‘date’ was at the Goldene Rose, some arsehole spiked my drink.”
"Yowch.”
"One of Max’s mates,” I added.
"Double yowch.”
"You’re telling me; Dad thinks I'm on drugs, Mand’s going back to England, nothing’s going right, Han.”
Before I realised it I was sobbing into her shoulder, making a right exhibition of myself.
Maddy Bell © 18.04.17
"Feeling better?”
"Bit,” I allowed, "Sorry.”
"What are you sorry for,” Han asked passing me a packet of tissues.
"I've made a right exhibition of myself,” I suggested, "Bum, the girls, training!”
I made to get up, Hannah pushed me back into the chair. Somehow, I can’t remember the mechanics, we’ve ended up in the relative privacy of the office.
"They’re alright, Lisse is in charge for a few minutes.”
"Oh.” I sagged back into my seat.
"You want to talk?”
Do I? A very good question, I don’t even know what brought on my outburst.
"I'll be alright in a bit,” I noisily blew my nose, "Go on out, I'll be there in a minute.”
"You sure? We can sit or talk if you want.”
"I'm fine, probably just the ‘mones talking.”
"Hmm, well take as long as you want, we can manage without you for a bit.”
"I'll be out of a job!” I half heartedly joshed.
"Some hope, I've got you under contract,” she shot back.
"Really?”
"No not really, now sit, get yourself together eh?”
"Yes, miss.”
"On with you.”
There was a knock on the door before it slowly opened, "Gab?”
"Hey.”
"You okay?” Lisse enquired.
"Dunno about that, better maybe, don’t they need you out there?”
"We’re finished for the night,” she informed.
"Sugar!” that means I've been collecting soggy hankies for over an hour, best part of two.
"Don’t sweat it, we’ve cracked that second fall, anyway, we’re just packing the mats up.”
"I'll be out in a mo.”
"Good session?” Dad asked as we waited at the temporary lights in Mayschoß.
I shrugged, "Okay I guess, Mand home?”
"She rang and left a message while I was dropping you off, she’s staying with Jules at Boris’s tonight.”
"What for?”
"Something about an early exam.”
"I thought she’d finished now?”
"Just telling you what she said, "You wanting pizza tonight?”
Hmm, let me think, my ultimate comfort food, of course I want pizza!
"With extra olives?”
The lights changed and we moved off.
The rain pattering on the rooflite kept me awake – no that's wrong, I was awake anyway but the rain wasn’t helping. All my thoughts kept coming back to Thursday night, wherever I started led back to the Goldene Rose, Manda going home, Thursday, Ron moving to the senior team, Thursday. Yeah, illogical I know but paranoia isn’t is it, logical that is.
"Make sure you’re all packed for Thursday, we won’t have any spare time.”
"Yes, Dad,” I sighed.
"I mean it, Gab,” he went on between spoonfuls of yogurt, "We’ll be cutting it fine as it is.”
Thursday, yeah, we’re catching the overnight ferry to Hull courtesy of the weekend’s race sponsors which means a drive of over three hours across Holland. Not as bad as the others mind, the Luchow’s will be setting off at silly in the morning and the Grönberg’s have to get to Mönchengladbach where we’ll pick them up by the bahnhof. Oh well, I guess Mum has this sort of stuff all the time.
"Why don’t we leave earlier then?”
"I told you before, the time trial frames won’t arrive until Thursday morning.”
"What’s wrong with the others?”
"Nothing, they just want the world champion to have the best bike possible.”
Well I'm always up for a new bike.
My mood improved a little through the morning, largely due to the kiosk being fairly busy. The overnight rain cleared off quite early which seems to have encouraged the Trekkers out in some numbers, no doubt there’s a coach down at the Rhein somewhere.
"If you want feeding you’ll have to work for it today,” Con told Max when he arrived just after twelve.
“Con!” I spluttered.
"What?”
"What do you need?” Max queried.
"You could clear some tables,” Con suggested.
"You don’t have to, Max, we can cope.”
"It’s not a problem, liebchen.”
"Max!” I spluttered colouring up.
Okay, I'll admit another day without Kristen, a busy day, is stretching us a bit.
"What’d you do that for?” I asked my business partner.
"We’re run off our feet, Gab.”
How did things get to this, me and Max that is? Do I really want some sort of relationship with him? I suppose we’ve already got one, certainly I'm his go to girl for social events and I've gone along with that. On the other hand I'm not a hundred percent into the whole boy / girl thing, I might apparently be a girl through and through but there’s still a bit of me that thinks like my alter ego Drew, that thinks liking a boy is wrong.
I guess it’s not entirely one way, I mean it’s not like I’ve been chasing after him but I can’t deny some of it is pretty cool. Oh I know I grumble a bit but the weddings have been quite fun, I've met some cool people and well, I'll admit it, I enjoy the tonsil hockey with Max. Oh I don’t know.
"Here you go,” I offered as I plonked a plate of Pommes and Frikadel on the table.
“Cheers, you not eating?” Max asked as he unwrapped the eating irons.
"Not got time, I’ll grab something later. Sorry about Con earlier.”
“’S alright, I don’t mind, well worth it for some of your cooking.”
"It’s hardly Michelin Star is it?”
"Ahr star?” he chuckled.
"Get on with you, you’re daft as a bag of monkeys.”
He punctuated the conversation by pushing a couple of Frites between my lips, "So you doing anything later?”
"Dunno, might be,” I coyly replied after swallowing the potato fingers. "What you thinking?”
"We could go ‘round the fitness course?”
"Running?”
"Who said anything about running?”
"But I'm terrible at running.”
"I'm relying on it,” he sniggered.
"You like the cat with cream.”
"Hmm,” I allowed shaking Frite seasoning over the latest batch of chips.
"I'm guessing Max is involved?” she prodded.
"No.”
"So why was he smirking when he left?”
"I dunno do I?”
Clearly she wasn’t convinced, well I'm not exactly good at fibbing am I?
"How’d the exam go?”
"Exam?” Manda queried.
"This morning, the one you stayed over for?” I prompted.
"Er, oh that, okay I guess.”
Dad suggested we do the Königsfeld circuit this afternoon, apparently it’s a bit like where we’re riding this weekend, we rose as one as the gradient of Hardstraße started to bite. Conversation stopped until we cleared the Ahrweiler and a resumption of a more comfortable effort.
"That you’re last then?” I probed.
"Uh huh.”
"So you’ve finished school now?”
"Next week, same as Jules.”
"Right. Wonder what’s so special with the new bikes?”
She sort of shrugged, "No idea.”
"Something wrong, Mand? Have I said something?”
"Not really.”
It’s like getting blood from a stone. I didn’t get much more out of her for the rest of the ride, guess I'll find out the problem sooner or later.
"Where are you off to, young lady?” Dad enquired, his question halting my escape.
"Er nowhere.”
"So what’s with the er, athletics kit?”
Well I thought I'd best dress appropriately so I dug out the stuff from when we opened the fitness course last year, you know shorts and running bra. So okay I've added a layer of make-up and put my hair in braids, too much maybe?
"I um thought I'd go for a run, you know around the fitness course.”
"You hate running.”
"I can change my mind can’t I?”
He didn’t look convinced, "Take your phone.”
I patted the bum bag at my waist, "Here.”
"Be careful then, don’t break anything.”
"I will, won’t, laters!”
Max was sat on his mofa at the gate waiting.
"Hmm, nice,” he commented.
He could’ve made more effort, last seasons 1. FC Kӧln shirt, tatty shorts and grubby trainers hardly make a positive fashion statement but I guess he is a boy.
"So you ready, then?”
"After you,” he suggested gesturing me ahead.
I went through and started walking up the track towards the vines.
“Come on!”
"Hey!”
When he said go for a run I didn’t think he actually meant go for a run. I motivated the legs and flailed along in a futile attempt to catch him.
"Max! Wait.”
He turned and started jogging backwards up the gravelly track, “Come on then slow coach.”
"Huh!”
Every time I thought I'd caught up to him he upped the pace, after a couple of hundred metres I was panting like the Vulkan Express!
At the third attempt I grabbed his sleeve, "Got huh, to, huh, rest.”
"Thought you were super fit?”
All I could manage was to assume the recovery position to get air into my lungs.
Maddy Bell © 20.04.17
“Max...Max...hmm...Maaax!”
The vineyards are not famed for their grassy acres, we’ve had to come quite a distance up into the grapes to find a reasonable patch that’s not too public.
"Geroff!” I pushed at von Strechau's head.
"What?”
"That tickles.”
"It’s cute.”
The it in question is my nose stud, the lummox is licking at my nose and it tickles! I moved my attention to his lug hole.
"No, stop I give in!”
"No more nose?” I licked his ear in warning.
"Okay.”
"Promise?”
"Promise.”
With that he rolled over pulling me over so that I was sat on his stomach from which vantage point I set to on his lips once more.
"Fritzy, come here!”
There was something damp and cold sniffing at my ear.
"Fritzy, where are you?”
I batted at the mutt exploring my hair.
"Who is it?” Max whispered.
"Frau Holdorf,”I supplied putting a finger to my lips, I mean the last thing you need is the village busybody finding you making out in the vineyards. Our patch of grass isn’t exactly well hidden, particularly if you are headed down hill, "Shush!”
"Fritzy where are you you silly dog?”
She sounded quite close now, the danger of discovery increasing by the second.
"Fritzy, shoo!” I pushed at the over friendly dog.
"Wroof!”
"Fritzy! There you are.”
Sugar! I managed to sit up at least before she pushed through the vines into our little dell.
"Er hi, Frau Holdorf, I think Fritzy was doing a bit of exploring.”
Her surprise was brief, she barely paused before replying, “Ah Gabrielle and,” she peered past me, “Herr von Strechau.”
"Er hi,” Max allowed with a weak hand wave, "Er nice evening.”
"Indeed, sorry to disturb you,” she allowed, “come on Fritzy.”
"Bye, Fritzy, I gave the hound a quick head rub.
"Wroof!”
Mrs H almost had to drag her animal back through the greenery, he was clearly reluctant to leave us. I'm not sure who was the more embarrassed, us or her. We held our breath until we heard her moving off along the path at which point we both broke into hysterics.
"You reckon she’ll say anything?” Maxxie enquired once we’d got a grip again.
"You really have to ask, she’ll probably know what colour your underpants are.”
"She couldn’t see could she?”
I replied by snapping the exposed elastic of said garment, “Maybe.”
Max pulled me back down to resume the tonsil hockey.
The moment was dead though, the interruption spoiling the atmosphere somewhat.
"I should get back.”
"Really?”
"Dad thinks I'm running around the course, even I could’ve done it twice by now.”
With a sigh Max levered himself to his feet before pulling me upright, “Come on then.”
We made our way out to the path before tidying ourselves up, not much to be done about the grass stains but we didn’t look too dishevelled. Going back down was somewhat quicker than the up and we were soon back at the mofa.
"See you tomorrow?” I suggested as he kissed my forehead.
"Unless Dad collars me again.”
"Schnitzel?” I suggested.
"I could be turned.”
"Deal, look I'd best go.”
“’Kay.”
We exchanged one last kiss before I reluctantly set off home. I'd barely gone ten metres before Max called out.
"Gab?”
I turned whilst still walking, "What?”
“Can you wear that ring next time?”
"Ring?”
"In your nose, I never got to check it out last week!”
“Max!”
"Just asking, tschuss.”
"Tschussie!” I nearly tripped over my own feet as I turned back round then had to stop myself skipping along the lane back into the village.
"You were gone a long time.” Dad opined as I clattered up the stairs.
"Er yeah, got caught by Frau Holdorf, she was out walking Fritzy.”
"That woman never knows when to stop talking,” Pater allowed.
"No kidding,” I agreed continuing upstairs.
Well it’s not actually a lie, we did get caught by her and she was walking Fritzy.
"You seen my best mitts, Mand?” I requested poking my head around her door. "What are you doing with that lot?”
"What's it look like?”
Her bedroom looked like a bomb had hit, clothes and shoes piled everywhere, suitcases half filled adorning the bed.
"It looks like you’re packing everything you own, we’re only going for a few days.”
"I'm not coming back, I'm going home after the race.”
"To your parents?”
"For a visit, yeah?”
"Nope, for good.”
"But you can’t, you’re part of the team, you will come back right?”
She shrugged,”Maybe.”
"But why? Is it something I’ve done or said?”
"Nothing to do with you.”
"So why now?”
"Look I don’t want to discuss it right, your gloves are at the bottom of your stairs.”
I took that as dismissal so after locating the missing track mitts I returned to the eyrie. Apparently I'm not the cause of her departure but I'm no closer to finding out the real reason, guess I'd best let the others know so they don’t put their feet in it at the weekend.
I laid in bed and looked up at the white blankness filling my view of the heavens, fog, just what we need. I glanced at the alarm again, ‘nother five minutes, it’s gonna be a long day today. I waited to hear Mand depart before succumbing to time and the need to use the lav.
"You got washing, Dad?”
"In the basket,” his voice advised from the parental boudoir.
"I'll put it in with mine,” I allowed pulling his smelly socks and stuff out of the laundry basket.
There was one of Mand’s ‘school’ blouses in there too, it’s gonna be weird without her here, even weirder when we race, does this mean she’s dropping out of the BC programme too?
By the time Dad dropped me and Con off at the kiosk the fog was almost gone, it looks like it’s gonna be a return to last week’s hot sunny weather.
"Looks like we’re in for a busy one.”
"Yeah, I agreed.
"Ot oh, I recognise that look.”
"What look,” I enquired flicking the power on for the fryers.
"The ‘I'd rather be making out with Max ‘look.”
"That’s not a look!”
"Well it’s not constipation so I'm guessing you two, last night?”
"You’re worse than Frau Holdorf!”
"What are besties for? So come on spill.”
"Okay, okay.”
"I knew it,” she crowed, "So?”
"We only went for a walk.”
"Yeah and?”
"We might’ve kissed.”
"You hussy!”
"It was only kissing, Thesing.”
"For now, and what’s with the nose ring again?”
I shrugged, "Fancied a change?”
The warm weather certainly brought the Grockles out although mostly they wanted cold drinks rather than hot food. The English Global coach reminded me of this evening, the couple of hours of waitressing that awaits us at the Sebenschuh’s Stube. Yep, busy with a capital B.
“Here you go, mistress,” Max stated placing a stack of crockery on the counter.”
"Give over!”
"She means thanks, Max,” Con interjected.
"So you escaped your dad then?”
"Dad yes, Mum no, I'm on stable duty again.”
"Best feed you up then,” I smirked.
"Pity we can’t test this out,” he prodded my nose ring.
"Shush! You want this Jäger or Wiener?”
"You don’t,” he started.
I shook the jars of sauce at him, "Oma’s recipe.”
"Don’t fib, Bond,” Con put in as she cleared the plates.
"Okay, Con’s Mum showed me.”
"In that case, liebchen, Jäger.”
"Give over,” I handed him a cloth, “here you can wipe the tables down.”
"Yes, mistress.”
"So what was all that with the nose ring?” Con queried as Max’s mofa put, putted up through the village.
"Nothing.”
“Hmm.”
I said I'm a terrible fibber, "Okay, he likes me wearing it, alright?”
"What else does he like you wearing?”
"Nothing,” I shot back before realising what I'd said.
"I bet,” she grinned back, "I just bet he does!”
Maddy Bell © 20.04.17
I tugged at the top of my dirndl, either it’s shrunk at the cleaners or I've got bigger, whichever it is I seem to be more exposed than usual. Hmm, oh well, the image in the mirror was one of a typical German waitress, typical that is if you ignore the pink hair! That and the tourist pleasing clothing, oh well, it’s a job.
"Need a lift?” Dad called up.
Moving over to the door I called back down, "Nah, we’ll walk up, ride back’d be nice?”
There was no reply, he’s either ignoring me or didn’t hear – okay he’s ignoring me. Whatever, after a last check in the mirror I headed downstairs.
"What do you reckon, Mand, you think it’s the hair or the nose ring?” Con prattled as the three of us walked towards Rech.
"Con!” I moaned.
"Well it’s not your stunning conversation that’s for sure.”
I blew a raspberry her direction.
"Probably her kissing,” Mand suggested flatly.
"Hey, practice makes perfect,” I allowed.
"Thought you weren’t interested in boys,” Manda added.
"One boy in particular,” Con suggested.
"I can change my mind.”
"Lover boy’s at the kiosk for lunch every day, Mand.”
"Con.”
To be honest I hadn’t expected Mand to come tonight but she’d mumbled something about ‘promises’. Personally I just think she likes wearing the dirndl.
"Gaby,” Helmut called out as I returned from stashing my bag and cardi.
"Hello.”
"You alright doing drinks tonight?”
"Sure,” I agreed with a shrug, "No injuries this week I hope.”
"No, no, I've got another cellar tour after the coach people so Pia will do the bar.”
"Okay.”
"Get Pia to run you through the order pad, the bus’ll be here in ten minutes.”
Nothing like a bit of pressure, Helmut!
"Hello again,” the blonde smiled.
"Er hi, you want drinks?” I asked the bus crew.
"Just coffee for me,” the driver, Dennis I think it is, requested.
I tapped the screen, whoever thought this was easier than pen and paper should be made to use it.
"You have Weisbier?”
"Er sure, Erdinger?”
"Fine.”
"I'll bring them to your table, I think we’re about to serve.”
"We’ll go through then.”
"That it?” Pia asked as she deftly sliced the excess foam from the last bier glass.
"For now, guess we’d best give the others a hand.”
"They’ve pretty much done the soup, so what’s up with Manda?”
"She’s going home next week.”
"As in London?”
"Yeah, she’s going straight from the race.”
"She is coming back?”
"Dunno, she’s packed just about everything up.”
"Why now?” she queried loading my tray with alcohol.
"No idea, she just like turned at the weekend, I'd best take these out.”
"Julia said you’ve opened a snack bar?” the Global woman mentioned.
"Er yes,” I agreed, “up in Altenahr opposite the bahnhof.”
"Ah, I think we went past this morning.”
"Er yeah, I saw the bus going out towards Ahrbruck.”
"A new excursion, the glass place at Műnstereifel?”
I nodded knowingly, I think there’s a flyer on the rack at the kiosk.
"So business is good?”
"Can’t complain I guess.”
“Must be hard work?”
"Yeah but I've got a few days off.”
"Doing anything nice?”
"Er going to Yorkshire, my team’s racing there.”
"That’s a long way for a weekend,” Dennis opined.
I shrugged, "No worse than some here.”
"I guess so,” he agreed, "Where’s this race at?”
"Somewhere by the Yorkshire Moors?”
"You should take Jools for a look Neen.”
"Ha, get her out of bed on a day off, fat chance.”
"You want more drinks?” I interrupted.
"Phew!” Con allowed plonking herself onto a chair.
"They sure got through enough bier,” P mentioned.
"Tell me about it,” I agreed joining Con at the table.
"You’re quiet, Mand,” Pia suggested.
Manda shrugged, "Feeling a bit off.”
I exchanged a look with P, she still hasn’t really said anything about going home, it was Dad that told me not Mand.
"Bet you’re looking forward to England,” Con blundered on.
"Not really.”
"You’ll be able to have those pudding things eh, Gab?” Pia suggested.
"Possibly,” I allowed, "They don’t eat them all the time you know.”
"She threatened to do them for the kiosk,” Con supplied.
Mand managed a slight grin, "Eifel puddings.”
"Neat name, Mand, we could do them with Würst and Pommes,” I enthused.
"Don’t encourage her, Mand,” Con groaned.
"Looks like your dad Gabs,” Pia mentioned as the sound of a car reached us through the open windows.
"Best not keep him waiting,” I sighed.
"Have a good weekend, guys,” Pia told us.
"Er yeah, bye P,” Mand told her with an uncharacteristic hug.
"Thanks,” I added.
"Nite, girls,” Helmut added as we headed out into the warm evening, "See you next time.”
Mand winced a little at that.
"What time’s your boat, Gab?” Kirsten asked.
"Eight I think, we have to be there for like half six.”
"I've never been on a ferry.”
"You must’ve been across the river,” I suggested.
"I meant a proper like sea ferry.”
"They’re hardly a big deal.”
"I still want to go on one sometime,” she insisted.
"We want presents,” Con told me.
"It’s not a shopping trip, Con.”
She gave me a puppy dog look.
"Okay, I'll try.”
"You’d best get going,” Kris suggested.
"What time is it?”
"Don’t panic,” Con ordered, "It’s only ten to twelve.”
Dad thought I should take the whole day off so we could get off as soon as but I insisted I should work until lunch – well Max might call by.
"Gab!”
I slammed the anchors on, nearly standing the bike on its nose in the process.
"Thought I'd missed you,” Max allowed as he putted up beside me.
"I did say twelve yesterday.”
He shrugged, "Dad had me cleaning the range.”
"Let you off.”
"So you all set for England then?”
"Be better if you were coming.”
"Just have to make up for it when you get back.”
“Running again?”
"You’ll turn me into an athlete.”
"Fat chance porky,” I suggested giving his belly a poke.
"I'm hurt!” he hammed.
"Give over, come on you can give me a push home.”
"I get all the glamorous jobs.”
"There’s a kiss in it,” I hinted.
"There you are, I thought you were leaving at twelve?” Mand noted as I clattered into the kitchen.
"Got held up.”
"By Max no doubt.”
"Course not!”
"He’ll be jealous then, your lippy’s smeared across your cheek,” she advised.
"Sugar! Thanks, Mand, I'd best get changed,” I set off for the stairs at a trot.
"Your dad rang,” she called after me, "He’ll be back just after one!”
In the end it was nearly quarter past when the A Klasse pulled onto the drive stacked out with our new testing bikes.
"You’re late,” I called down.
"Best laid plans, stick kettle on kiddo, I'll just put these in the camper, grab a cuppa and we’ll leave.”
"Dinner?”
"We’ll stop at services after we pick up Ron and Ang.”
“’Kay.”
Well if I'm hungry I'm sure the others are, by the time Dad came up for his coffee I'd rustled up a couple of rounds of sandwiches each and a bag of fruit – we can eat on the go.
"Got everything, racing licences? Shoes? Passports?” Dad requested.
Mand went in her bag and retrieved her documents and waved them for inspection, my similar bag search only found my licence.
"Won’t be a minute!”
"Gabrielle Bond, you’ll be the death of me,” he called after me.
"She’d forget her head,” Mand added.
I knew where the passport was but of course it wasn’t there, a panicked search soon found it – along with my purse and Handy where I put them when I got changed. I know, I give blondes a bad name, guess pinkies are even dafter. We weren’t late leaving, just later, Dad put our behemoth in gear and we started our afternoon of autobahn trundling.
Maddy Bell © 21.04.17
"Where are you?”
"By the taxi stand at the front,” Ron advised.
"Taxis,” I passed onto Dad.
"Get them to go to the other end of the station, there’s a pickup area, we’ll be there in five minutes.”
"Do you hear that Ron? Go back through the station, we’ll be at the pick up in a couple of minutes.”
"Whatever,” she sighed, "See you in a mo.”
"On their way,” I told Dad re-stowing my Handy.
"Damn, we should’ve taken that one,” our chauffeur groaned.
"Can we go where that bus turned,” Mand suggested.
"Might have to pretend we’re a bus,” I joked.
Which wasn’t so far from the truth, we had to circle the bus station to get to the pick up area, arriving at almost the same time as the Grönberg's.
"Get your bags inside, we’ll stow stuff when we stop,” Dad instructed.
"Afternoon, girls,” Angela pointedly offered.
"Sorry, afternoon,” Dad belatedly greeted as Mand and I helped girl-handle the new passengers’ bags on board.
From Mönchengladbach it’s not far, about thirty minutes drive, to Venlo and the Dutch border and not much longer to the services at Eindhoven.
"We’ll eat on the boat later, can you manage on coffee for now?” Dad enquired as we navigated through the fuel pumps to the Mototel parking.
"We had Brötchen at the station while we were waiting,” Angela told us.
"Maybe some cake?” I ventured.
Dad checked the time, "I guess we’ve got time.”
It must be pointed out that Dutch motorway services are not the equal of those we’re used to at home, I'd say this one at least is more like an upmarket transport cafe in this case crossed with a motel just a good spit from the heavy traffic of the A2. We piled off, first stop the facilities of course, we might have a loo on board but that’s more for emergencies.
Dad was on the phone when we emerged, "Get me a tea, Gab,” he requested pausing his conversation.
"Tea?” Ron queried as we went into the restaurant.
"These English are so weird,” I advised.
To be honest I thought he was being foolhardy, these furreners just can’t make a decent cuppa. The cake options were a bit thin, some nasty looking pre-packaged Madeira type cake or the slightly more appetizing apple cake. - no contest really. We were installed at a window table before Dad joined us.
"Everything alright?” Angela enquired.
"Yeah, yeah,” he advised pulling an extra chair over to our table. "The others have made better time than we thought so we’ll meet at the boat rather than looking out for each other at Dordrecht.”
"So how much further is it, to the ferry that is?” I asked as I contemplated the cake on my fork.
"About an hour and a half, we’ll fill up before we get there.”
I grimaced, the apple cake was awful.
You ever been to Holland? Flat is being polite, the motorways straight, the traffic heavy – kilometre after kilometre of trucks presumably heading to and from the massive port facilities of the ‘Rijn’ delta. Not only that but they are mostly two lane which makes overtaking in the Hymer something of a nightmare. Tilburg, Breda then we were heading towards Dordrecht and Rotterdam, a feeling of relief amongst the passengers as the distances dropped quickly.
From flat open countryside we were now in an increasingly industrial landscape, the motorway dipping and soaring under and over railway lines, waterways, and vast complicated junctions. We stopped for fuel once we’d picked up the Europoort road, a short delay but with diesel more expensive across the water, a money saver. There was less traffic on this road and despite now being in the dock zone we were yet to see a ship!
In fact the first ship we saw was the ferry, ‘Pride of Rotterdam’ emblazoned across the front. We pulled up outside the terminal building where the others were stood around a people carrier rather than the usual minibus.
“’Bout time like,” Josh mentioned, climbing up after Dad and Angela exited to go sort tickets out with Dieter and Sonja.
"This thing isn’t as fast as that,” Mand suggested.
"Aye it’s a bit faster than the usual wheels,” he admitted.
"Hi guys,” Gret offered leading our last teammie up the steps.
"Heya.”
"So what’re we doing tonight?” Tal asked.
"What do you mean?” Ron queried.
"Well we’re sailing all night, according to the leaflets there’s like a cabaret thing and a cinema.”
"Sleeping might be an idea,” I opined.
"You lightweight,” Gret snorted.
"We are racing tomorrow.”
"In the night,” she pointed out.
Dad bounded aboard, "Okay guys back to the car, we need to check in, you come back afterwards.”
We drove around to the check in gates, Dad exchanging a coupon for a great stack of stuff before we followed the track around to join the queue of other waiting travellers. However we were called forward and sent to join a different queue for the ‘cargo’ decks, leaving the others waiting for the car deck. We didn’t wait long before we were loading, climbing a steep ramp to a deck occupied so far with two other campers and a Spanish coach.
Tali announced her claim, "Bagsy top bunk!”
"Geez, it’s a bit small,” Mand noted claiming a lower berth.
"It’s not like we’re spending much time in here,” I pointed out.
It could be worse, there’s only three of us in here, the men have another cabin with the Grönberg and Luchow women all together in a third cabin. Of course they’re steerage class, inboard to you and me, they do have facilities but you can barely swing a cat.
"Was your dad serious about the dresses?” Mand asked.
"Reckon so,” I sighed.
"Well I'm getting a shower,” Tal advised.
Apparently our travel sponsorship included the full meal package so we were waiting in the queue to be tabled. Talk about feeling overdressed, there's us girls in dresses and heels whilst all around us our fellow travellers sported shorts, sandals and various varieties of sportswear. To say we were getting some funny looks was to put it mildly.
Eventually we were led to a table by one of the stewards and seated.
"It’s a buffet?” Ron asked.
"Looks like it,” I agreed – well the queues of passengers clutching various plates and dishes was a bit of a giveaway.
"Don’t overdo it tonight,” Dad mentioned from down the table, "We get breakfast in the morning too.”
"Well ahm goin’ for a squint like,” Josh proposed.
"Hang on,” Tali told him.
I watched the two of them head towards the food, a pang of jealousy clouding my mind. What the heck am I jealous of, it’s hardly a secret they’re a couple and I do. Not. Fancy. Josh!
Fingers snapped in front of my face, "Earth to Bond,” Gret supplied, "You coming or what?”
"Er yeah,” I agreed.
It would be easy to overdo it with the food on offer, several main courses, soup, desserts, salad – even cheese and biscuits with soft drinks and coffee on tap. I was tempted by the curry but settled on a sort of roast dinner, mindful of Dad’s comment I instead filled up with ice cream and a plate of the aforesaid cheese and biscuits. I was pretty still pretty stuffed even so.
"What now?” I asked.
"Well we’re going to reconvene in one of the bars, you can join us or entertain yourselves.”
"Neat,” Luchow junior allowed.
"You’ve got your room keys?” Angela queried.
Keys! that’s a joke they’re not as sturdy as a train ticket and they don’t always work either.
"Yes, Mum,” Ron replied.
We ended up sipping beer from bottles as we waited for the cinema to open, I guess our dresses and stuff do have a use when you want to appear older. Of course the ferry is British so it’s UK drinking regulations, which means eighteen to buy booze. Anyhow, given the ‘cabaret’ was more loud than entertaining we opted to buy tickets for Cars – yeah I know, bit lame but the other option was some weird looking thing going by Borat.
It felt a bit weird sat in the near dark if the lounge, the six of us talking, for the most part, German whilst everything around us was in English – the TV, signs – the cabaret. Strange from another angle too I guess as three of us are at least English born – I really am more comfortable talking German, damn I've got those extra lessons when we get back too.
"Time,” Josh noted.
I squinted at my tiny wristwatch in the gloom, almost nine, we’ve been onboard for a couple of hours, eaten even and we’re only just about to leave port.
Josh had finished his beer but the rest of us took our drinks into the tiny cinema, we almost filled a complete row, I guess it could hold about fifty people. By the time one of the Pursers started stuff up there were maybe half the seats occupied, all bar two by adults. Apart from the lack of popcorn we got the full cinema experience, darkness, several trailers and then the feature.
"Ow!”
"Tal?” I mumbled from under my pillow.
"Hit my head,” she complained.
"You wanted the top bunk,” Mand pointed out.
"Put the light on.”
"It’s early yet,” I stated.
Bing bong!
‘Good morning and welcome to Yorkshire,’ a voice advised over the ship wide PA, ‘the buffet will open for breakfast in five minutes and we will start disembarking from eight o’clock.’
"It’s nearly seven thirty now,” Tal advised in something of a panic.
I checked my own timepiece, huh?
"You need to change your watch, Tal,” Mand informed Fräulein Schmidt.
"Change it?”
"English time is like an hour behind CET,” de Vreen pointed out.
"Guess we’d best get organised though,” I suggested.
The twin dining rooms were teeming with bleary eyed travellers when we descended on it, dressed more casually this morning. I nearly gipped at the first smell of the full English waiting in the counters, a cup of coffee settled my stomach as I looked out at the Lincolnshire countryside, well the murky flat bit adjacent to the Humber at least. When Josh arrived bearing a plate piled with black pudding, mushrooms, egg, bacon, beans, sausage, hash browns – well everything on offer, I made a dash for the loo!
I managed a bowl of fruit and yogurt followed by a round of toast, my stomach couldn’t manage anything else.
"Something wrong, Gab?” Angela enquired.
"Er no, just a bit, you know queasy, probably something from last night, I'll be alright when we get on terra firma.”
Something from last night alright, after watching animated cars saving the world for an hour we returned to the lounge where we er indulged in some more beer, two more bottles I think. How Josh could eat a cooked breakfast this morning is beyond me.
Maddy Bell © 22.04.17
Being on the ‘coach’ deck we were unloaded somewhat before the others, Dad parked us up outside the terminal to wait.
"If this time trial isn’t until this evening, what are we doing all day, before like?” I queried.
"Well I did think you could ride up to Scarborough,” Dad started.
"Really,” I sagged.
"But,” Pater continued, "I changed my mind, we can’t get into the B&B until this afternoon so we’ll drive up and you can have a ride this morning then after lunch we’ll check you all out on the new bikes.”
"New bikes?” Ron put in.
"Some fancy new aero bikes,” Mand advised.
"They only turned up yesterday,” I added.
"Kewl.”
“Looks like the cars are coming off,” Dad noted.
After Dieter found his way to the car park we used the terminal facilities before our mini convoy set off to drive through Yorkshire.
"Shouldn’t we go left?” I suggested when we turned towards Hedon.
"Only if we want to sit in a traffic jam through Hull, we’ll go out on the Brid road then cut across, should be quieter,” Dad supplied.
I shrugged, "Whatever.”
It was a bit weird of course, driving on the wrong side, strange road signs, it really is a foreign land. Oh I know we were over just before Christmas but I had more on my mind than the roads, today we’re in our own vehicle and there are few distractions. it’s not the prettiest bit of the country being pretty flat but Holland it isn’t, after a couple of miles of dual carriageway we turned onto narrower, twistier roads taking us into the Holderness countryside.
Most of the traffic was indeed going the opposite direction but on the first few kilometres we had several ‘passing’ issues, you could almost see the locals thoughts, ‘what are those daft foreigners doing on my road?’. After the fourth time I was asking myself the same. Anyhow we eventually joined the Brid road and although it bucks up and down a bit, the wider road allowed us to keep rolling and we finally seemed to be making some progress.
"It’s very flat, I thought you said Yorkshire was hilly,” Ron mentioned as we trundled along.
"It is, just not here, it is bigger than NRW,” I pointed out.
"You won’t think its flat later,” Dad chimed in.
"Its hardly mountains though is it,” Mand mentioned.
"There’s some steep climbs,” I suggested.
We turned towards Beverley, joining a stream of late commuters, the time now heading towards nine. After circumnavigating the city we picked up the Malton road and from billiard table our route started to climb into the Yorkshire Wolds. Most of the traffic was gone now which was just as well, the Hymer not being the greatest hill climber!
"Wetwang?” Mand exclaimed.
"Odd name, what does it mean,” Ron asked.
"No idea,” Mand offered.
"Probably a damp wang, whatever one of those is,” I surmised.
"I heard they’ve got a new mayor,” Dad advised.
"Wetwang?”
"Uh huh, when I was talking to Caro last week she said that weather bloke on Look North – you remember the one with the suits, has been made mayor.”
I searched my long forgotten memories of life in Blighty, "Paul Hudson?”
"Think so.”
"You English are so weird.” Ron suggested.
The next dozen miles beyond the village of humorous name, the road bucked up and down more violently until finally dropping into the twin town of Norton / Malton. We negotiated the narrow streets taking the Pickering road up out of the valley.
"How much further?” Mand asked.
"Ten, fifteen minutes,” Dad supplied.
"Guess I can hang on that long.”
And I thought I was the toilet queen. It was closer to the ten than I expected, Dad pulled us up as we entered Thornton le Dale.
By the time we’d changed and were ready to ride it was ten thirty, the earlier weak sunshine now hidden behind a grey blanket of high cloud.
"Okay guys, first bit’s along the main road so be careful, just remember to stay on the left,” Dad told us. "Okay, just ride piano, its just a leg stretch remember.”
We set off and once clear of the village settled into a steady twenty five Kph ride even if the tar and grit surface killed any enjoyment for the first couple of kilometres.
"Urgh,” Tali complained half an hour later, "Some leg stretch.”
"Its not that bad,” I offered.
"You have been to Cottbus,” Gret queried.
"Yeah,” I admitted.
"Well duh,” she replied.
She’s probably got a point, we’ve been climbing for nearly ten minutes and whilst its not steep we’re not at the top yet. When we did that ride over Gret’s way I doubt we climbed this much all day.
"Car up!” Josh called from the back of our little peloton.
We singled out and a hatchback sped past, kicking up muck from the right hand verge and disappearing in a cloud of dust.
"Madman,” I allowed as we reformed.
"Be some local,” Mand suggested.
"Aye,” Josh agreed, "Same when ah go oot Consett way.”
"Do all English drive like this,” Ron asked.
"Nah,” I started before Mand joined the chorus, "Some are worse!”
The road narrowed as we reached the brow and from a long steady climb we started a twisty, bouncy decent, bouncy as for every drop there was a corresponding, leg sapping up. Several times, Dieter, following behind us with Dad almost stalled the Sharan before we reached the end of the lane. A toot and wave turned us left onto a slightly wider but equally choppy lane which seemed to be heading into a narrow forested defile.
"Where the hell are we going?” Ron queried, "I thought this was a gentle leg stretch.”
"You were complaining it was flat earlier,” Mand chuckled.
"Doesn’t mean I want to ride up every hill in the country.”
Our route made a final drop before crossing a rivulet and suddenly the road widened, acquired an almost perfect tarmac surface and immediately tilted upwards.
"Bum!” I allowed searching for the right gear.
Josh muttered something somewhat stronger.
What did that board say? Dalby Forest – I recognised the name, but why.
The car tooted and flashed his headlamps before passing us, the driver shouting something foreign at us. Hang on driver? Oh sugar, I looked behind, the others were following my wheel but there was definitely something wrong with the picture. where’re Dad and Dieter? We continued to climb, whilst I'm leading the way I am taking things steady, the good surface making it almost enjoyable.
Beep! Beep, beep!
"Get over!” Dad shouted.
Huh?
"Gaby, wrong side!”
Wrong – oh sugar! That's what that bloke was tooting and shouting about. It was that tight corner at the bottom, I just took the best line – we’ve been on the wrong side of the road for at least a kilometre. I raised a hand to acknowledge the message and angled our string across to the left side again.
"You need to keep left guys,” Dad lectured after stopping us at the top of the climb, "They’re pretty keen on white line crossing over here, the race will be a rolling closure but there will still be cars on the road. Okay, lets get on.”
After the safety lecture we set off again. Then I recognised a picnic area, we’ve been here on holiday – ah of course, Dalby Forest – its where all the mountain bikers go, come. It wasn’t long after that when we reached the visitor centre, even on a Friday there were quite a few off roader's and their VW buses in the parking areas.
Another draggy climb took us out of the forest and back into stone walled farmland. And then we were speeding down off the edge of the moors, a panorama across Ryedale stretching away ahead of us. There was more traffic on this bit of road and that was exacerbated by the road narrowing as we reached Thornton again.
Angela and Sonja hadn’t been idle while we were riding, apparently they’d had a walk to the church and on returning to the camper had prepared lunch.
"So everyone okay?” Dad enquired.
There wasn’t anything more than a few grunts as reply, we were all too busy filling our faces with the chicken and pasta the mums had supplied. After essentially missing breakfast I was quite hungry – not that a big breakfast stopped Josh or any of the others from wolfing down more calories.
"Okay, slight change of plan folks, once you’ve eaten we’ll go along to Scarborough and find the hotel then we’ll head back to Pickering for a bit of down time. We should have time enough to check out the TT circuit, we’re booked into a restaurant with the BC team to eat tonight. Questions?”
"They do take euros in the shops?” Tali asked.
"Don’t be so soft,” Josh told his girlfriend, "Ah told yer before its pounds over here.”
"Well I didn’t know.”
"I'm sure we can lend you some money Tal,” Ron noted.
"Anything else?” Dad queried.
"We gonna have time to shower at the B&B?” well we hardly want to walk round Pickering all sweaty smelly do we?
"If you’re quick, we need to be at the race for six at the latest, five would be better.”
“’Kay,” I allowed.
The B&B wasn’t hard to find, parking the Hymer was more tricky but for our short stop we pretty much dumped it in the drive. The Moorings occupies a fairly big detached house maybe a ten minute walk from the town’s North Bay. Its a bit of a weird set up, but we all had beds and showers taken we were heading back towards Pickering in about thirty minutes.
"So what’s so great about this Pickering place,” Gret enquired having elected to ride the camper back.
"Dunno about ‘great’,” I mused, "Is that the place with the castle Dad, you know with the big wotsit?”
"Motte,” he supplied, "The same.”
"A castle,” Gret sighed.
"A nice castle,” Dad opined.
I scanned my memories of previous visits to the town, "There’s a Bahn with Dampflok, you know for the tourists.”
"Shops?” Mand suggested.
"Now you’re talking! Gret enthused.
"Okay,” Dad addressed his troops once we’d got parked. "Back here for four thirty then we’ll go out to the time trial circuit. Have fun.”
“Just over two hours,” Ron supplied as we headed towards the town centre.
"So what’re we doing?” Tal asked.
"Castle?” I suggested.
"Gab!” Mand moaned.
"What? We can get eis and sit in the sun.”
There was a mass examination of the sky, a few chinks of blue have appeared since Scarborough and its warmed up some too.
"But we’re doing the shops afterwards,” Gret insisted.
“Fine, I need to get presents anyhow.” I agreed.
Maddy Bell © 24.04.17
"This is nice,” Ron mentioned lying back onto the bank.
"Hmm,” I agreed taking a lick of my ice cream.
Of course last time I was here it was a family holiday, the rents always included stuff like castles in the entertainment. Not that Dad minded of course, we’ve been all over, I guess a lot of places other kids don’t get. With the rents a castle visit was ‘educational’. Today though, well after a quick poke about we’ve just chilled in the sun eating our Magnums®.
Except for Josh and Tali, not sure where they are but two guesses what they’re doing and its not studying thirteenth century Norman architecture!
"What you thinking Gabs?” Gret enquired from behind me.
"Bet I know,” Mand opined returning from the facilities.
"Oh?” Gret queried.
"I'm betting its got something to do with her bit of totty.”
"Gab?”
"Might be,” I allowed.
No might about it, of course I've got Max on my mind, this bank is at the ideal angle for making out! Mand seems in a better mood today, she’s actually been more talkative, certainly not the sullen moo we’ve had all week.
"We doing the shops?” Tali’s voice asked.
"Where you guys been?” Ron asked.
"Ah was showing Tal tha inner bailey like.”
"It was very interesting,” Tal supplied.
"That’s what you call it now is it?” Mand teased.
"I ‘spose we’d best make a move,” I allowed before giving my lolly stick a last lick.
Lets be clear, Pickering is hardly the retail metropolis of say York or even Scarborough so a mooch around the shops isn’t a long job. I located one of those boxes of ‘Yorkshire’ fudge with a postcard of Pickering stuck on the front for Con and a Gromit figurine for Max, yeah I know, a real taste of Yorkshire! The other German’s arrived back at our transport clutching assorted gifts for friends and family back home, Mand and Josh not participating beyond making stupid suggestions.
"Looks like we’ve beaten the olds.” Ron suggested.
"Only just,” Gret mentioned indicating the approaching group of adults coming from the tea room in the car park.
"Ready?” Dad greeted as they joined us.
"Not really,” I allowed with a yawn.
"Well we’d best wake you up then,” he stated opening the Hymer’s door.
It was literally ten minutes later that we arrived at the village hall in Little Barugh, event headquarters for this evening. We weren’t the first to arrive but there was plenty of space to commandeer for Apollinaris HQ. Once the camper was parked Dad borrowed the Sharan and we all squeezed inside for the course re-con.
Its not a long course, eleven kilometres of quite technical Ryedale lanes with a mix of surfaces from tar and chip to cow poop. We stopped a couple of times to inspect the road and discuss the best line, hey this is serious stuff! There were a couple of people sweeping the corners - it wouldn’t be perfect but they were clearly keen to make it as safe as possible.
Eleven kilometres, a bit shy of seven miles, we should be aiming at sub fifteen minutes. Its pretty flat and the roads are reasonably wide between, for the most part high hedges. Its looking like near perfect conditions, my mind at least is now focussed on racing. By the time we got back, the HQ was somewhat busier and we had to park the Sharan on the playing field – no real hardship as its not going anywhere until after the event.
“Dave! Guys, good to see you all,” Steve greeted us as we headed towards the hall to sign on.
"Steve, good to see you,” Dad shook his hand, "Thanks for sorting everything.”
"Well Caroline did most of it,” he admitted.
"She around,” I asked.
"She’s staying at home tonight, joining the fun in the morning Gaby.”
"Oh.”
"Anyway its me should be thanking you Dave, you’ve gone beyond organising the German stay.”
"Thank me later,” Dad grinned.
"Well lets get you lot signed on, bikes been checked?”
"Bugger,” Dad allowed, "I forgot we needed that tonight, be right back.”
Dad dashed off but returned moments later trailing Darren, one of the BC mechanics who went to Switzerland with us last year.
"That was quick,” Steve noted.
“Darren beat me to it.”
"Hi everyone, I saw Dieter is it? setting up your bikes, as we’re sort of team mates, I took them for checking as he got them ready.” he brandished a handful of raffle tickets.
"What’s this?” Ron enquired in my ear.
"Bike check, you can’t sign on without the ticket here.” I advised.
Its not that the bikes aren’t checked back home but its taken on trust rather than having to get a voucher – Dad and Dieter usually do it while we’re getting ready. With the tickets we headed for the signing table, Steve acting as liaison – our assorted of German and UK international licences causing some consternation.
"Last off,” I moaned as I pinned my number onto my skinsuit.
“You are the Weltmeisterin,” Tal pointed out.
"But still.”
"Coulda been worse like,” Josh mentioned, "Ah’ve got that Bradley kid starting behind me, ma uncle says he’s quite handy at testing like.”
"Worried English?” Gret teased.
"Be daft Deutscher girl.”
"Guys!” Dad called us to order, "Lets get these bikes set up, you can argue afterwards.”
The bikes were nothing if not spectacular. Carbon fibre of course, ultra short wheelbase and a really low cockpit. there’s no doubting that the Montello looks the bee’s, especially shod with the Campag Ghibli discs in the back. The team colours really look good too – the Telekom one they had in Radsport a few weeks back looks pretty drab by comparison.
Dad’s building and set up was pretty much spot on, the old TT bikes aren’t that different so it was mostly fine tuning. We were of course attracting some attention, our camper, the Easy up, our speaking German – yeah we’re the exotics alright! Whilst anyone, in theory could enter, the field is mostly made up of club teams supplemented by a couple of divisional teams and of course the BC squad, not mixed like us but all lads.
With our rather girl centric team, as far as I could tell we were supplying more than fifty percent of the female participants, the others all solo entries from the Yorkshire region. The circuit was closed to traffic and already the PA was bleating out on the road, they were certainly making an effort.
"Ow!”
"Well sit still then,” Angela pointed suggested.
She continued tugging at my hair for another couple of minutes.
"That should do it.”
I looked in the mirror, she’s tightly braided my locks, much tighter than I can ever get it, but the net result is it’ll all be under my aero lid.
"Cheers.”
"Go show ‘em how its done eh?”
"There chocolate cake?” I queried with a grin.
"Get on with you!”
I preened a bit longer, I don’t get much chance to wear my rainbow bands in a race and well, I don’t really need an excuse! I was a bit nervous mind, the elastoplasts over my nips are all I'm wearing under the skinsuit, look okay, I'm a narcissist! I checked my lid again and climbed back outside where Dad was polishing the Montello.
‘And here she is, the current junior world time trial champion, riding for Team Apollinaris, Gabrielle Bond!’
The crowd cheered and clapped in that somewhat reserved British way as I settled myself onto my new Italian speed machine.
"Ten,” the starter advised, “five, four, three, two, one, go!”
Already standing, I heaved on the bars and set myself into forward motion, the onlookers cheering me away.
I quickly sat back down and settled onto the tri bars, it seemed mere seconds to the first corner, I set myself up wide and to a few spectator cheers accelerated out of the turn. It takes some concentration to keep the breathing level, to keep the effort even and I'm pretty good at it. A whistle sounded and I was on the second turn.
Left foot up, dab the brakes, hit the in turn point, pedal. All the road was used, and with the temporarily closed road I stayed on the right to turn three which I was able to pedal through full gas. This leg is the longest of the circuit, essentially a long curve, I clocked into the twelve and pushed all the harder. Come on Gab, you can do it.
My minute person, well two minute actually, they’ve started the ‘stars’ at two minute intervals, came back at me like a ball on elastic and I shot smoothly past. The fog started to descend as I approached village four which provides the last turn. It was a wide junction that once again I was able to pedal through, time to engage full boost.
I kept focus on my breathing, the only bit of me moving my rotating legs, the breeze of my passing reacting not so well with my er, bits. Another whistle, the finish banner seemingly coming too soon.
‘And here she comes, showing us just why she’s wearing those bands, just look at this time! Come on give her a cheer!’
I made a show of standing for the last few metres before collapsing back down and freewheeling towards the HQ.
‘Welcome everyone to the Ryedale Junior three day race, sponsored for a second year by P&O North Sea Ferries and Ryedale District Council. So we’ve started off this evening with an exciting prologue on closed roads, thank you Ryedale for that.’ the MC enthused.
I tuned him out and fiddled nervously with a braid, what I really want to do is get cleaned up and fed, its been a long time since lunch – ice cream and a fig bar don’t really cut it! At least I managed to get something a bit less, er, revealing on for the presentation – well my world champ tracky top and baggies over the skinsuit. A hand waved at me, not that I could see who it was but I gave a smile anyhow.
‘So having blown everyone else away this evening with a master-class in time trialling, with a time of thirteen minutes eleven seconds, that's just over thirty one miles an hour folks, our first leaders jersey goes to Gabrielle Bond, Team Apollinaris!’
The assembled crowd of riders and supporters were quite vocal in their cheering as I made my way up onto the small stage. I hammed things up, with a very girly double handed wave and joined the MC.
"So Gabrielle, very impressive ride around our lanes, how did you find it?”
He held the microphone for me to reply, "Well it was a good evening, the bike felt good, I felt good, perfect storm.”
"Some of you will remember we had the senior race here a few weeks ago, young Bond here was faster here tonight than any of the men then.”
There was more clapping and cheering.
"So what do you think of your chances tomorrow?”
"Guess we’ll find out tomorrow, we’ve got a jersey to defend now so we’re expecting to see some action from the home teams. But we’re used to being marked back home.”
"What advice has your mum given you for this weekend? for those not in the know young Bond’s mother is double World champion, Jenny Bond.”
"Nothing really, just enjoy myself.”
"And did you?”
"I guess.”
"Well I won’t embarrass you any further Gabrielle, we can see your hair is already blushing, so Josie, can you do the honours please.”
What was that about? Anyhow a woman about Mums age came out and I was ceremonially jerseyed – one day I'll get to wear team strip in more than a chipper!
Maddy Bell © 24.04.17
"Where are we eating? I'm starving.”
"Some place in Pickering, Black Swan I think Steve said.” Dad advised.
We hadn’t really gotten to talk with the BC people at the event, I saw Gethin and Jamie, that Bradley kid came third in the test and Mand says Daz is here. No Cav though, I guess this weekend isn’t really cut out for him – sprinting is really his thing and from what Dad’s said the parcours this weekend is, er, interesting. What with the presentation and having to wait to get the camper out of the car park we were the last to arrive at the food stop.
"We're up stairs in the function room,” Steve told us, "Nice ride Gaby.”
"Er thanks.”
"We eating or what?” Gret hinted in German.
The meal it has to be said was unmemorable, chicken Tagliatelle with a Carbonara sauce and a ‘leaf’ salad. Eatable and I guess it ticked some fuelling boxes but it was a bit bland, the sauce clearly out of a packet and the pasta slightly undercooked. At least we got sticky toffee pudding for dessert – the ‘chef’ was obviously more in his comfort zone with that.
"That was some ride Gabs,” Jamie mentioned joining me at the self serve coffee table – its crap coffee by the way.
"New bike syndrome,” I allowed.
"New bike?”
"Yeah Pinarello sent us the latest Montello’s specially for today.”
"Wow, I guess that’s the power of the rainbow jersey.”
I shrugged, “I guess, it woulda been nice to have had a ride before instead of just the turbo.”
"You hadn’t ridden it before?”
"Well Dad only built them up yesterday before we set off.”
The Scot put down his cup before really taking me by surprise by dropping to his knees at my feet, "All hail the time trial goddess!” he announced supplicating himself at my feet.
“Get up you idiot!”
He was still climbing back to his feet when Josh turned up with Bradley.
"What’re you two up ta man?” Josh queried.
"You’ll not get in her knickers like that,” Brad added which earnt him a hard stare.
"These guys hadn’t ridden their bikes until tonight.”
"Thought you said you were out earlier big guy,” Brad posed to Josh.
"Aye, on the road bikes.”
"Their time trial bikes ya daft Cockney, the first time Gab’s rode that bike was the race.”
"Seriously? And I'm not a Cockney.”
"Whit ever, I needed three sessions to get used ta the position and Gab just gets on and smashes it.”
"You guys haven’t got new road bikes as well,” the Londoner asked.
"Worried Wogan?” I smirked.
"No,” he stated, "Why would I be worried by some short arse Barbie doll?”
"Tha’s fightin’ talk man,” Josh opined.
"Brad!” someone called from across the room.
"My presence is required,” he stated before beating a hasty retreat.
"Jerk,” I mentioned to anyone listening, "What’s his problem?”
"Bruised ego lassie, fancies himself as top dog,” Jamie told us.”
“I'll show him who’s top dog!”
“...called me a short arse Barbie,” I told my audience.
"Cheeky sod,” Tali mentioned.
Its the same three of us sharing a ‘family’ room as the cabin on the ferry, at least this time we’re on terra firma!
"Jumped up twerp,” Mand added.
“I suppose that means you want to take him down?” Tali queried.
"Oh yeah, big style,” I stated.
A knock at the door interrupted the war council.
"Hello?” Mand queried.
"You girls going to sleep,” Dad suggested, "Heavy day tomorrow.”
"Yes Dad.”
"Breakfast at seven thirty.”
“’Kay, nite!”
"Nite ladies.”
We did sort of settle down after that, once we doused the lights I lay in bed plotting the oiks downfall, its no longer about winning or defending the jersey, no its personal now, I'll give him short arse Barbie!
Saturday arrived in Scarborough replete with sea fret and a chill in the air, according to Yorkshire Coast radio its supposed to be warmer later. Breakfast was greeted somewhat more enthusiastically by yours truly this morning – no chance of getting a drink last night – or tonight I'll warrant. By nine we were ready and we set off towards today’s start some fifty kilometres inland.
The traffic was light and mostly heading out to the coast, we arrived in Helmsley a tad before ten and found the parking adjacent to the castle. Angela and Sonja walked with us to the HQ in the junior school where the toilets were free (unlike the car park ones) and we could do the signing on stuff. Angela has some English and with some translation from yours truly we picked up the stuff for the car too. We get to have a following car today which is cool, we aren’t reliant on neutral service.
By the time we returned to the camper Dad and Dieter had the awning up and were just checking bikes over prior to putting them on the turbo's.
"Sorted?”
"Yes Dad, Josh has taken the radio straight to the car.”
“I'll go sort it Dave,” Dieter suggested, “I need top put the vinyls on anyhow.”
"Okay mate, right you lot, get yourselves ready, there’s a presentation before the start so you need to do your warm ups a bit earlier.”
Urgh, presentation, lets make a target of the girl in the blue shirt.
"Thank you Team GB,” the MC chap paused whilst Jamie and co descended from the stage, “last but by no means least, all the way from Germany, Team Apollinaris with our race leader, World Champion Gabrielle Bond!”
We clambered up to the stage and followed the handshaking custom.
"One thing you might have noticed folks is that most of Team Apollinaris are of the fairer sex, so lets start with this young man, Joshua Waugh, Josh what’s it like riding with these ladies?”
"Hard, the boss doesn’t let anyone freewheel, these guys give as good as they get.”
"And we’ll move along to another ex pat in the team, Amanda de Vreen...”
And so it continued along the line, I think he was surprised that all the girls speak fairly good English.
"And finally we come to last nights winner and race leader, Gabrielle Bond,” he had to pause to allow the cheering to die down, “Gabrielle, great ride last night, you start today with a thirty one second lead, how do you think today will go?”
"There are some good riders here, we’ll be aiming to restrict our losses rather than look for the win.”
"Thank you Gabrielle, thank you Team Apollinaris!”
We returned to the road where we collected our bikes from the rails before taking our places in the first rank.
“I thought some of the presentations back home were drawn out,” Mand sighed as we waited.
Hmm, she called Germany home, so why is she talking about leaving?
“… the race is neutral until we turn off the A170, so no racing please, I will stop the race,” the head Commisaire concluded.
Aha, time for action, I re-adjusted my braids and clipped my right foot in, an air horn parped and we pushed off following the lead car through the town.
Geez, I was down in bottom gear on the climb away from Helmsley, a drag of an incline not helped by our low speed. The flashing lights pulled away as we made the B1257 turn off, with a quick check of my team mates positioning I gave Josh the nod. The green flag appeared out of the cars sun roof, we’re off!
Josh was off like a shot, he was almost on the cars bumper before the driver noticed his move. Being restricted to a single carriageway has its advantages one being an easy block of pursuits. Yeah its the good old UK, racing on open roads doesn’t often include closed roads or even a rolling closure, a bit of Police control at junctions is all we’re gonna get today.
I don’t think most of the peloton even realised we were free to race until we made the turn in Oswaldkirk onto the circuit. Josh was away, almost out of sight, its up to the locals to do the chasing, the rest of us just run a watching brief.
"That worked well,” Ron offered, we’ve decided to use German this weekend, I doubt any of this lot speak it, if they do it’ll be the ‘where is the water tap my uncle is from London’ school of holiday translations.
“Keep an eye out for the BC lads, once they realise our tactic they might well counter.”
Of course there was some consternation when it was realised the lead car was away up the road. Not sure if I mentioned before but the field is mostly made up of divisional teams supplemented by a handful of racing club teams and of course the BC squad. In theory these are the cream of British junior racers but given the absence of Cav and a few others I know of its not quite that.
That all worked to our advantage, we’re used to racing riders from the low countries and we’ve all done the international stuff – even BC are only racing two maybe three experienced internationals. We were on the drag up to the next town before there was any sort of reply to our move, a couple of lads took off after Josh. When our reaction was zilch I'm pretty sure it caused more consternation around us.
Through Ampleforth, a typical Yorkshire village town and then the roads became narrower and twistier. Up ahead, Josh was completely lost from sight – he was putting in a huge effort, the pursuivants had maybe ten seconds gap on us and not going anywhere fast.
"You not racing?” Bradley queried.
“I don’t want to get sweaty,” I told him as I flicked a braid over my shoulder.
"Stupid tart,” he muttered.
"Am not,” I huffed, “I came first in my make up class.”
Wind up? Moi? The obnoxious ‘I am’ muttered something else a lady shouldn’t hear let alone repeat before setting off in pursuit of the escapees.
"What was that about Gabs?” Gret enquired.
"Well I think he needs some anatomy lessons.”
"So we follow him?”
“I reckon we’ll have some help right about,” I paused, "Now.”
Sure as eggs are eggs, a motley group of riders forced their way through to do our job for us. We slipped into the body of riders as we navigated our way past some old Abbey place and onto an even narrower lane that started to edge upwards into a more wooded area. The chase was hardly organised, riders just blasting away until someone else went past, this combined with the narrow lane ensured the chase was making little impact.
The climbing didn’t come to anything, the twisty nature of the road prevented any real views of what was happening. We eventually broke out onto a bigger road, the threat of a climb reduced to a vista of rolling countryside and for the first time we got a clear view of what was going on ahead of us. Our fellow riders seemed to draw strength from the view, it wasn’t organised but the chase was on.
We took our turns at the front, Josh is well away but bringing back his chasers helps us. Bizarrely the BC riders seemed to be quite enthusiastic in their chasing down of Woggo – perhaps its not all happy families on the national squad. The road had the odd bounce but my over riding feeling was of a steady loss of height as we crossed the Yorkshire countryside.
Easingwold, I'm sure Dad said that's about halfway around the lap, its also where we’ve identified as the escape point on lap two, something like thirty kilometres from the finish in Helmsley. The escapees lost the battle as we made the turn onto the Helmsley road but there was no sign of Josh. In fact it was only when there was a bigger vista a couple of kilometres on that I spotted the flashing lights away in the distance, go Toon boy, go!
Maddy Bell © 04.05.17
I smiled and gave Wiggo a wink as he sank back through the peloton, I'm sure his impetuous chase wasn’t part of Steve’s team orders this morning. It was a slight headwind on the this northbound leg, I made a point of keeping off the front as much as possible. Of course me and the girls aren’t actually chasing Josh down but at the same time its politic to show our faces near the front of affairs.
The main climbs are on this leg too, a series of short, sharp inclines without any run in and even on the first it was clear that a lot of the bunch aren’t climbers. Useful to know for tomorrow. As we approached the second incline, I called ‘Tempo!’, Ron and Mand pushed the pace with Gret, Tal and me following closely behind. It wasn’t an attack but over the top a quick look back revealed a peloton blown all over the place.
Jamie rode up, "Not exactly Switzerland eh?”
"No Pellini either,” I observed, mention of my Swiss climbing nemesis brought a smile to the Scots face.
“I guess you’ll nae be chasing your man down?”
I gave him a look.
"Well I had tae ask,” he pointed out.
It was no surprise that shortly after the jerseys of Team GB massed at the front and the pace started to lift.
A quick count of the blue and white jerseys indicated someone was missing from the GB strength but they were quickly joined in their efforts by maybe a dozen of the more savvy riders. For our part it looks like an interesting time playing sea anchor, we can’t stop their effort but we can interfere with its success. The move pretty much sealed the fate of anyone behind, a few more came up to join in but from almost a hundred starters we were down to less than half that left in contention.
"What do you think?” Ron asked slipping back to talk.
"We should stick to the plan.”
"Feed in about five K,” she noted.
"T and G know? Remember they’ll be on the left.”
“Left? Why?”
“England remember,” I mentioned.
"Funny place,” she mumbled slotting in behind Daz Fox to move forward.
The last of these ‘climbs’ was home to the King of the Mountains points for today, clearly Josh has claimed max points but that doesn’t mean others weren’t in the hunt for points. From BC, Gethyn looked to be edging to make a move, he’s not a bad climber but not brilliant however today's point rely more on sprinting ability than climbing.
“Mand, zweiundneunzig!” I called over with a nod forwards.
She replied only with a small nod before starting to filter forward. Its not just the highest point of the circuit at about one seventy metres but its the steepest climb too. Indeed as we approached it looked like a vertical wall but the reality is a max gradient of just ten percent. Geth waited until the speed started to drop before launching but de Vreen was waiting and tailgating before they cleared the front of the bunch.
Of course this encouraged a few other lads to have a bash but it was too late to encourage seventy plus kilos into some speed when the escapees are a good ten kilos lighter – gravity and all that. I found myself dancing my own fifty kilos past the floundering bunch as we reached max gradient, ahead Mand easily out sprinted Geth as the few supporters cheered us through. Of course we aren’t attacking – yet so once over the line we sat up to wait for the bunch.
I caught up to Mand as we started to drop, exchanging a high five, these points might be useful for the KOM competition tomorrow, denying others points today is some insurance. The bunch, well most of them at least, came back to us quite quickly, job done we settled back into the mass of riders – I doubt most of them were even aware of the antics over the summit. However the general increase in pace has made some impact on Josh’s lead, he was clearly closer when I caught sight of the lights over the next small brow.
Its a climb up into Oswaldkirk, not steep but enough to slow things, the feed has been placed here with good reason. Ron and I rode wide, T and G collecting musettes for themselves and us, Mand only needed her own as Josh was away.
"Two thirty,” Angela shouted out as she and Sonja passed the bags out.
Pretty cool, he might go all the way if we can sit on any chasers.
Of course part of our supplies pick up strategy was a bit more pragmatic, although its accepted that you don’t attack in the feed zone, its not a rule and there’s always some berk trying to take advantage. And so it fell, a Central Division jersey took a flyer up the white line, narrowly missing Jamie as he moved out of the pickup lane. Tit, oh well, looks like a potential thorn, Ron however beat me to it and jumped onto his wheel.
“Gab’s,” Tali got my attention, “here.”
I grabbed my musette, “cheers.”
I sat up to transfer bottles and bars to cages and pockets before flinging the bag into the kerb. Ron’s missed the zone, we’ll have to pocket feed her. Ron and her motor were a couple of hundred metres away by the time we left the village, energy expended we didn’t need but there was allowance in Dad’s race plan for just such an eventuality. T, A, G and myself gathered towards the front of the reforming peloton which seemed less keen on the racing than their food supplies.
Eventually the GB guys got themselves organised, Wogan and Jamie at the forefront of affairs, Apollinaris now have two up the road so even more reason for us not to be too active. However we do need to be towards the front of affairs for those narrow lanes coming up. We were through Ampleforth before a proper rotation got going, the speed shot up, Ron and the bad mannered youth reeled in as we passed that Abbey ruin again.
The narrow lane prevented a great deal of speed which is just as well when we were greeted by a pair of horses – and their riders of course, pretty much blocking the road at the next junction. A squealing of brakes, some cursing and somewhere behind the sound of riders and their steeds parting company startled the already frightened equines even more. The resulting meleé delayed us somewhat but eventually the horses were calmed and the race passed by in less than good humour.
Riders were still chuntering as we returned to wider carriageways at Kilburn and the start of the rolling descent to Easingwold.
“Attack or watch?” Tali asked.
Of course, Easingwold is Dad’s preferred jump off point.
"Watch I guess,” I shrugged.
“Plan B?” Mand suggested.
"The KOM?”
“I'm game,” she informed us.
“You guys okay with that?” I checked.
“Unless anything else happens,” Ron agreed.
Okay, plan made, just wait for the spanner.
Clearly Dad wasn’t the only DS who’d picked Easingwold as the key launch point, a number of riders were nervously looking about the still fairly large peloton. With plan B enacted both Mand and myself will sit out any immediate reaction, but it doesn’t mean we don’t keep a watch. When the first shot came, just as we reached the town, I was wedged on the inside but Tali was on it and the BC guys threw some resource into the fray too.
Hmm, danger Will Robinson!.
“Ron?” I got my wing woman's attention.
“hmm?”
"What do you think?”
"That Wogan kid is still sat up there.”
“He’s the danger I think.”
“Best move forward, just in case.”
“Gret, Mand,” I motioned a movement up the bunch.
The first attack was contained by the time we had traversed the town, still a few metres clear but going nowhere fast. It was text book stuff what happened next, Daz however making the amateur mistake of glancing back before hitting the launch button. As a result it wasn’t exactly a clean getaway, the girls in blue aren’t the only ones watching and although it was a theoretically good move I don’t think the half dozen followers were exactly planned on. We however were waiting for part two and we weren’t disappointed when Woggo took the bait so to speak.
All that remains of the bunch quickly became strung out as the pace went up which actually made it easier for the Apollinaris panzer division to move up. Jamie made to jump onto Ron’s wheel, Tali pretty much elbowed him out of the line – not this time me ole mucker. Gret was gamely hanging in still so we are still theoretically in the driving seat.
The Wogan escapees had road but only a couple of tens of metres and with others now joining in the chase we didn’t need to invest too much effort. Out onto the main road and the light breeze from last time round felt somewhat stronger – a double edged sword – harder for Josh certainly but with the horse incident we haven’t seen him now since Ampleforth some thirty kilometres ago. The good thing of course is that the small group ahead of us weren’t organised enough to take advantage.
We on the other hand are and we started a fast rotation, a few others joined in including Geth from BC. The connection was made on the first ‘climb’, Woggo looked frustrated and more than a bit tired, for a second time today I preened as I passed him. There didn’t seem to be a lot of enthusiasm to continue chasing, BC have used up two of their now four remaining riders, Gret, still has something left but even without her we have the numbers.
Flashing lights ahead of us on the next climb suggested Josh was coming back quite quickly, bum. Well we’re running out of road now, it’s less than ten K from the KOM sprint to the finish and nearly all downhill. I spotted our car by the roadside, I thought they were behind but I guess they’ve been behind Josh, if they’ve been pulled we must be quite close to him.
As road captain, Ron checked the troops, gave me a curt nod and plan B went into action. Ron and Tal hit the front and started winding up the speed, stretching the remaining twenty or so riders into a tadpole. Geth is so predictable, going at exactly the same point on the climb, ahead I spotted Josh labouring away still some way off the summit. This time however the escape and subsequent chase by Mand and myself was aided by the pace setters immediately coming off the gas.
A bit of a dirty tactic but the effect was immediate, Gethin was really going for it but so was Mand, from twenty metres behind I couldn’t say who got it but after a quick look at the floundering bunch behind I hit boost and quickly joined them on the downslope. Both were breathing hard, not spent but not a lot left in the tank, it won’t need much though, Josh, although going again is less than fifty ahead of us.
With me taking the lead in time trial mode we quickly closed the gap to the toon, only easing enough for him to slot in for the small bit of shelter we offered. On the rolling road along to Oswaldkirk Mand came through and we started a rotation, Geth joining in grateful I think that we weren’t doing a number on him.
"Take a flyer when we hit that steep downhill,” I told Josh.
“You go, I'm cream cream-crackered.”
"Not what we agreed,” I told him, "We’ll look after Geth.”
“I dunno man,” he demurred.
“Just do it lummox.”
With BC and ourselves represented up here neither of us are going to give chase so once we joined the B1257 again we could back off slightly. a glance back revealed a German registered MPV a few metres behind, wow, we’ve gained a chunk!
“Madchen?” I called to Mand, “box.”
“Cracked it Geth,” I suggested,” who got the points?”
“Dunno, when did Manda learn to sprint like that?”
“Out training with the seniors I guess.”
I slipped alongside Geth even as de Vreen moved ahead of him, I gave Josh a tiny wave forward with my outside hand.
“You train with your mum and that?” Geth went on, reaching for his bottle.
It was the moment Josh needed, we were a bit early but he hit the blue touch paper.
Geth gave a double take, “shite!”
By the time Geth had re-stowed his bidon and extricated himself from our box it was too late, the Toon was gone. And of course Mand and I jumped on the BC rider and did everything within the rules to end his pursuit.
“Alright guys, I give in,” Geth sighed.
“Soz mate,” I allowed.
“Guys?” Mand motioned behind.”
Turns out the bunch were more interested in the finish than I thought, they were back and closing fast.
“Yours Mand!”
And with that she set off in pursuit of Josh – well sort of.
The sprint for third was brutal, I'm glad I stayed out of it! I claimed twelfth in the same time as the rest of the depleted bunch. Josh of course took his well deserved win with Mand ten seconds in arrears, third place, a lad from the Welsh CU, a further thirteen seconds back. Sometimes a plan comes together, sometimes not but with a two nil result so far for the visitors I think I like Dad’s ideas.
Maddy Bell © 05.05.17
"So what’re we doing for food?” I queried – yeah when its not bikes my brain quickly reverts to food as backup subject.
"I've promised Angela some real British fish and chips.” Dad advised as he passed Dieter one end of the Ezy up to stow.
"Really?” I'm not a great fish aficionado and even less so of the nasty batter its often served wearing.
"Don’t worry kiddo, Mrs Drake has booked us tables at some Italian place in the old town that does fish and the more usual stuff.”
"Pasta again,” I complained.
"Its going to be a harder day tomorrow, you all need fuelling up.”
"No chance of pizza then?”
"We’ll see.”
"I suppose we have to dress up,” I sighed.
The look he gave me was answer enough.
We were packed and ready to depart a mere ninety minutes after the finish and rather than go directly to The Moorings we found some parking overlooking Scarborough’s south bay.
"Back here at six,” Dad intoned as we descended to the slightly wind blown tarmac.
"Neat!” Gret stated, I'm not sure whether she meant our couple of hours of freedom in Yorkshires premier seaside resort or the view out over the still busy beach, harbour and the brooding silhouette of the castle.
"Oh and before you get started on the junk food, remember we are eating later,” Dad added with an accusing look at yours truly.
"Huh!”
"This place is amazing,” Ron suggested as we sat looking over the harbour partaking of some ice cream.
“’S okay I guess.”
"We don’t have anywhere like this in Germany.”
"What about on the Ostsee, we rode through those seaside places on the Hamburg race,” I pointed out.
"Pah, they’re nothing like this.”
"Its all fancy resorts up there,” Gret offered from the next bench over.
"Well you can hardly call Scarborough fancy,” I chuckled.
"I wouldn’t even call Brighton fancy,” Mand added.
"Have they even got sand down there?” I queried.
"Not much, you have to go out to Kent for that.”
“Kent?” Gret enquired.
"The bit nearest France,” Mand supplied.
"Can’t think of any seaside that’s exactly fancy,” I mused, "Certainly not Skeg Vegas.”
"That’s a real place?” Ron asked.
"Skeggy, it was our nearest seaside when we lived here, its actually called Skegness, miles of sandy beach and loads of slot machines.”
"Ah, the Vegas thing,” Gret supplied.
"You got it, there’s miles of holiday homes too, you know, big caravan things?”
"There were some when we went to Rügen1 last year.”
"We’re talking like thousands,” I noted.
"So what’re we doing now?” Mand posed.
"Slots are still open,” I suggested.
And so the four of us spent the next forty minutes trailing through the amusement arcades – oh how common! Where are Josh and Tal I hear you ask, well there was some muttering about a walk on the beach but if you believe that…..
"How’re we getting into town?” Mand queried as she slipped her shoes on.
I shrugged, "No idea.”
"I hope we aren’t walking, these shoes rub,” Tal opined.
"I've got some plasters,” I offered, "We ready?”
"Yeah,” Mand allowed standing up.
From North Bay to the old town isn’t really that far but its perhaps a bit far to walk, especially dressed like air crew and wearing heels.
"There you are, the taxis should be here in a minute,” Dad advised.
Well that's one thing sorted. When our transport didn’t head the direct route into town I thought they were having a laugh. In fact the ride along Marine Esplanade and around the headland made perfect sense for approaching the restaurant, a place called Tricoli on a lane just above the harbour where we had ice cream earlier.
It was certainly Italian, I reckon some of the staff might have even been there! The décor wasn’t anything I'd expect, a cross between ‘vintage’ Yorkshire and, to our surprise, a homage to Italian cycling. When it was revealed we were a cycling team the owner was summoned and to my chagrin he even knew who I was.
It got even weirder.
"My cousin Giovanni, he is in Lezzeno, I think you stay at his hotel last year?
"The Hotel Como?” Dad offered.
"Si!” our host beamed.
"Small world,” Dad allowed.
"You mind if we take the photo?”
And so before we’d even ordered we found ourselves posing for Julio’s camera – fame, who’d have it?
"So where’d you pair get to earlier?” Ron queried over our minestrone starters.
“Josh was showing me the sights,” Tal hedged.
"I bet,“Gret smirked.
"Well okay, we did have a sit for a bit,” Josh admitted.
I nearly spat out my soup, "First time I've heard it called that!”
Josh merely shrugged and Mand looked a bit uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation for some reason.
The food was good, the volume ample and the pasta cooked properly unlike last night. I actually had cheese and ham gnocchi in a Milanese sauce, after the minestrone, real Italian style, it was quite enough – well apart from the ice cream of course. Food finished, coffee served I found myself admiring the décor, reproductions of ancient photo’s of the likes of Coppi, Bartali, Moser and more I couldn’t identify, riding for the iconic Italian teams like Bianchi, Faema and GIS – now there’s a dream team, all the ice cream you can eat.
"Interesting décor,” Ron stated.
"Yeah, never expected this in Scarborough.”
"You see the cabinet by the toilets?”
"No? Should I?”
"Have a look when you go.”
Well that sounded intriguing, worth a trip even if I don’t really need it.
Said cabinet was something else, a homage to Campagnolo which included one of the boxed 50th anniversary sets along with some really ancient gears and stuff artfully displayed.
"Ah you lika the Campanola?” Julio asked joining me at the display.
"Its what we ride, only Record mind. And our bikes are Pinarello.”
"Ah like Battaglin eh, a fine combination.”
"You collect this old stuff?”
"A leetle, here and there, you know this?” he pointed to a lightly distressed but ancient looking rear mech.
I peered a bit closer, "Super Record?”
"Ah yes but not just any Super Record this is the Model 78, the first with the Titan bolts, they change hands for hundreds of pounds.”
"Really?”
"Only last year a collector offered me three hundred pounds.”
“Even with the scratches?”
My mind homed in on the thought of the boxes of old bike bits in the cellar, have to take a look when we get home.
"They are quite rare, this was on my race bike back before I move to England, see the levers and front dérailleur are the match. Today though even the Italian bikes they have the Shimano, it is not so popular the Campanola eh?”
"Well Dad likes it, it doesn’t break as much as the Shimano we had last year.”
“Quality, I see your father he looks for you.”
"Told you it was worth a look,” Ron noted as we walked up to the taxi rank.
"That old rear mech, the black and silver one? Apparently its worth like three hundred quid.”
"For something like that?”
"Its rare, from the seventies I think he said apparently he raced in Italy.”
"Accounts for the decorations then,” Ron opined, "So we now have to save every bit of old kit in case its worth something in like fifty years.”
"I guess I could look after it,” I smirked.
Back at The Moorings it wasn’t straight to bed, oh no, Dad wanted to go over tomorrows race first. The B&B has a lounge but a couple of other guests were in there so we headed out into the Hymer. The good thing with that was that Sonja made us Cocoa and Angela magicked some chocolate cake – don’t mind if I do!
"Okay everyone, I'll try to keep it brief then you can get off to bed,” Dad started once we were settled.
"Well done for today, it wasn’t entirely to plan but we got the result, we’re in a good position to clean up but tomorrows Queen stage will be much more difficult to control. Firstly they’ll all be looking for a repeat of today’s early escape so you’ll be more heavily marked and of course its a more technical course. I know it would be nice but winning tomorrow isn’t required to win overall, I reckon that there’s only about twenty riders with a shout and six of them are in this room. So here’s the plan...”
"What do you reckon?” Tali queried as we waited our turn in the bathroom.
"About?”
"You know, tomorrow.”
"I'd like it more if I didn’t have that stupid jersey on,” I motioned to the race leaders jersey on top of my bag.
"I guess, wish my climbing was better, I reckon me an Gret’ll get dumped on the first big climb.”
"You did alright in Switzerland last year.”
"But not brilliant and look at that thing on the Nurburgring the other week.”
"I thought you did well there.”
"I could hardly move the next day.”
I shrugged, "I don’t suppose any of this lot are really any better, Geth can climb a bit, and maybe Jamie.”
"What about, whatsisname, Woggle?”
"Wogan, dunno, doesn’t seem to have much discipline.”
"Done!” Mand announced, returning to the main room.”
"You next Tal,” I suggested.
“’Kay.”
"So what were you two talking about?” Mand asked as she towel dried her hair.
"Tomorrows plan., Tal's concerned about all the climbing.”
"Not the only one, that Rosedale Chimney sounds a right sod.”
I've no argument with that summation, the climb proper is just over a kilometre but its steep, 30% in places and averaging over 13% with a close set pair of hairpins on the steepest stretch. I've got the feeling some of our number will be resorting to a walk!
"I don’t think the one on the first lap will be much easier.”
"Its not as steep,” Mand pointed out.
"But its a lot longer and if the wind’s the same as today...”
"That descent will be mega!” I enthused.
Maddy Bell © 06.05.17
"That everything?” Dieter enquired when I plonked my bags down with the rest outside of the breakfast room.
"Yup,” I blearily allowed.
"Come on Gab,” Mand called out, “porridge is going cold.”
"Urgh,” just what I need, a bowl of glutinous oats.
The others were already making inroads into their breakfasts, guess who got halfway downstairs without her sports bra and had to go back and dress herself? I was distracted alright? Outside the windows it looked fairly grey again, the forecast is apparently similar to yesterday, hopefully not too windy mind – that big climb could be nasty otherwise.
"You not eating Gab?” Ron queried.
"Er yeah,” I re-engaged my brain and selected eat.
Around me the rest of Team Apollinaris were chatting and eating, that’s usually me too but today, well its a fairly serious days racing ahead of us, there are several tough, open climbs culminating in that Rosedale monster. Its something quite serious, a hundred kilometres of leg sapping Yorkshire lanes – my lead isn’t huge and a decent break could take the prize away. No, today’s going to be a hard day, I just hope Dad’s read it right.
We departed The Moorings for the last time this weekend – we’ll be heading straight to the ferry after the race, and started the journey to Kirkbymoorside, today's HQ.
"Quiet kiddo.” Dad opined.
"Hmm, just thinking, it’s gonna be a hard race today.”
"I expect so, you’ve ridden harder,” he suggested.
I shrugged, "Maybe but not the day after another big race.”
"What about Switzerland?”
"We’d been riding hard all summer,” I pointed out, "We must’ve been fitter.”
"You’ve got good form, you’ve all got good form, remember its no different for the rest.”
"I guess.”
"Look kiddo, yes its going to be a tough ride, I'll not say otherwise but you guys are the best, you’re winners, this morning its Team GB and the divisional teams who’re on the back foot, they’ve got to bring the race to us and they know it.”
Well I can’t argue that, but that means we’ve got to police things.
"But...”
"We talked about this last night spud, the only thing that can beat you from contesting things is you. You’re team mates believe in you, I believe in you, now you need to do the same.”
I sighed, it might’ve been intended as a pep talk but now I felt under even more pressure.
"Hello?”
"Max?” I pushed the bedroom door quietly shut.
"Gab? Where are you, what’s with the whispering?”
"Some place called Kirkbymoorside,” I supplied, "Just getting ready for the race.”
"How’s it going?”
"Okay I guess, I've got the leaders jersey, another hundred kilometres and its mine maybe.”
"I don’t know how you ride that far, so what’s with the call?”
What indeed, I feel…. well I I'm not sure what it is I feel.
"Just wanted to hear your voice.”
"Really?”
"Of course, I er missyou.”
"Whatcha say?”
"I miss you,” I repeated quietly.
"Miss you too, you’ll be back tomorrow though right?”
“’Bout lunch I think.”
"So what’s up?”
"Just needed to hear a friendly voice.”
"I have my uses then.”
"Of course you do,” I agreed with the beginnings of a smile.
"That sounds more like my girlfriend.”
"Girlfriend?”
"You are aren’t you?, I mean we like kiss and stuff.”
Hmm, stuff, the smile became a full on grin.
"You still there Gab?”
"Uh huh,” I allowed, "Just thinking about ‘stuff’.”
"Huh! You only want me for my body.”
"Its a nice body.”
"Gab! You ready yet?” Tal queried from outside.
"Er almost,” I called back.
"You’re dad wants you,”
"Okay!”
"Who was that?” Max asked.
"Just Tali, apparently I'm wanted outside.”
"You’d best go then.”
"Don’t want to.”
“For me?”
"Hmm.”
"See you tomorrow?” Max suggested.
"Now that’s something to look forward to Maxxie, the vineyard?”
"Maybe, oh and you’d better have the trophy or whatever it is.”
"Gab!”
"Coming!” I called back.
"You’d best go, good luck with the race liebchen.”
I made kissy noises into my Handy, "Later honeybunch.”
"Bye!”
"Tschussie!”
Max closed the call, I looked at my phone and let out a sigh.
"About time,” Dad mentioned as I joined the others under the Ezy-up.
"Er sorry.”
"Someone looks happy,” Ron observed.
"Can’t a girl be happy?”
"Happy or not we’ve got a race to win,” Gret noted.
"Okay people, apparently its a stiff breeze up over the moors so that first climb might be quite tough but at least the ride over Wheeldale is a little more sheltered.”
"We sticking to the plan like?” our Toon queried.
"I think so Josh, it’ll be the same for everyone after all. The feed is after you turn in Pickering, there’s a level crossing and a stiff little climb straight after – I've spoken with the organisers, you won’t be penalised if you drop musettes out of the zone but try to at least not throw them too far off the road?”
"Can we get bottles later?” Mand asked.
"There might be a chance before you drop into Rosedale but don’t bet on it,” he advised. "Any more questions?”
We all looked at each other.
"Er,” I started, "Do you think this lippy goes with my hair?”
"Gaa-ab!” everyone moaned.
"Hey everyone,” Caro greeted catching us we packed pockets with goodies, checked numbers and generally prepared to head to the presentation.
"Heya Caroline,” I allowed.
"Just wanted to wish you guys good luck, you’ve really shown the locals a thing or two.”
"Er thanks,” Mand opined.
"See you all later.”
"Later” I agreed.
"Whit wa that aboot?” Josh queried.
"No idea,” I admitted, "Definitely weird.”
"And lastly here’s our race leader, Gabrielle Bond!” the MC announced stepping past Josh.
I did the smile and wave at the small gathering in front of the ‘stage’.
"So Gabrielle, day three, still in the leaders jersey.”
"Er yeah.”
"A tough day yesterday but tougher today?”
I had to pull the mic a bit closer to avoid getting an eyeful, "It certainly looks tough on the profile especially that last berg.”
"You’re referring to Rosedale Chimney of course, the one in three penultimate climb?”
"Ja, I think maybe some will be walking there.”
"You think that will decide the race?”
"Maybe,” I hedged, "There are more climbs to the finish I think.”
"So folks, maybe there was a hint of tactics there from our race leader, its only a lead of thirty one seconds so its all to play for on stage three of the Ryedale Junior three day.”
We made our way back to the start grid of a noticeably smaller field for today’s race. I think we lost a couple yesterday to crashes and so on but I reckon a few more couldn’t face another drubbing across today's more saw toothed profile. Despite Dad’s reassurances and my conversation with my, yeah, boyfriend, I'm still feeling a bit nervous.
"Time,” Ron mentioned a couple of minutes later.
"Lets do it,” Tal enthused as the klaxon announced our start.
I looked up at the heavens, a raft of pale clouds from horizon to horizon with a few small wisps hurrying along below – I guess it could be worse. We moved off down the Market Place, we’ll be back in about four hours I guess but will that be to contest the finish? Of course the race was neutralised for a bit – today until we’d cleared the first junction with the A170 and started towards Pickering.
The green flag dropped and unlike yesterday nothing happened, no chancers taking a erm, chance like Josh yesterday. No, a look around the Peloton revealed a sea of nervousness, me and the girls eased ourselves to the leeward side and off the front – there are still enough he men to want to put the girlies in their place. Ha, doesn’t mean us ladies have to play by their rules though eh?
For four kilometres along the wide main road the bunch ‘happily’ rolled along, the main cause of discomfort being the tar and chip surface rather than the slightly rolling parcours. It couldn’t last of course, the narrower lane that we turned into almost immediately started to climb, not steeply but naggingly evenly. There was a bit of bravado from a few of the lads, pushing the pace enough to go beyond comfortable.
Before any real damage was done we made a turn for a fast swoopy descent into the valley that we follow to Rosedale. The road bobbles about a bit but always gaining metres in short kicks as the races pace stayed fairly constant at a bit shy of thirty K.
"We go up there?” Gret asked as the moors bloomed around us.
"Up ahead first I think,” I allowed.
"Hell,” she allowed.
"No kidding,” I agreed.
The little village of Rosedale Abbey came into view, Gret sighed, "Time I guess.”
"Glück!” I told her as she prepared to move forward to stir things up a bit along with Josh.
I mentally checked my own preparedness, we’ll be starting the first real climb of the day in just a few moments, for a second time in barely twenty four hours I need to contain my enthusiasm, trust to the plan Dad’s come up with. Will it work? Backfire? Deep breaths Gabs, deep breaths.
Maddy Bell © 08.05.17
We left the village and the climb to one of the highest points of the Moors, all of four hundred metres or so began. There was a palpable pause as the peloton took in the lower slopes a sharp kick of perhaps twenty percent. We crossed the cattle grid, Gret didn’t pause, I'll give her that, and easily rode off the front as others hesitated.
I kept wide to avoid getting caught amongst stalling riders and was able to see our Ostlander giving it some wellie, a motley selection of others giving some chase. The climb was already going to do some damage but Gret’s ‘attack’ ensured interested parties would be expending more energy than necessary. The art of course is to sit and climb at your own pace, well okay you need to stand on this sort of gradient but it’s the same method.
Gret is far from a great climber but even so we were almost over the steepest section before she was caught by the chasers. Time for part two, Josh engaged hyper drive and twiddled away up the slope. After yesterday our fellow competitors more fully recognised the danger and so already tired legs set off in further pursuit.
The promised northerly wind wasn’t too bad but nevertheless didn’t make things any easier and once over the next ramp the Tynesider sat up. Even so, the front of the peloton took a while to draw level with him, I gave him a pat on the bum as I passed – well it would’ve been his back but I can’t reach that, alright! Up here the road, whilst not flat, allowed some recovery and by the time we turned south pretty much all the field was together again.
That wind was now on our left shoulder and the pace quickly increased across the exposed moorland. Woggo started driving the pace and with the other BC riders, well those still taking part, pushed our speed beyond forty kph. It’s not properly downhill, nor flat which allowed most of the field to remain together over the next five or six fast kilometres before things took a decidedly more downhill tilt.
More gradient, more speed, the road with its undulations seemed almost familiar, it felt like the Kaltenborn road and I found myself actually enjoying myself. Flags and whistles warned of another cattle grid, I set myself wide, flexed my knees and with a push gained clear air, the rear wheel just clearing the steelwork, oh yeah, she shoots, she scores! I wasn’t therefore expecting to see sheep roaming the verges as we continued through Hutton le Hole.
I hope none of them decide the road is the direction to go! The road bounced through the village, gradually losing gradient before another cattle grid that I stayed ground based for. The lane narrowed as our speed returned to more sensible levels and soon enough we spewed out onto the A170 again, Pickering bound.
"That was fun,” Mand beamed, "Wouldn’t mind coming down there again.”
"Yeah,” I agreed.
"Nice bunny hop, lassie,” Jamie mentioned from the other side.
I allowed a shrug, “Saves the tyres.”
"Ah canna get off the ground,” he admitted.
"Practice makes perfect.”
"Aye, so they say,” the Scot agreed.
With the feed coming up I started to prepare by getting the contents of my pockets down my gullet and washing it down with copious amounts out of my bottles. So of course it was as I had my mouth full of flapjack that Wogan attacked, damn. Not only that but the rest of the national team were blocking quite effectively, we’ve been caught on the back foot and trumped.
"What now?” Tal queried.
"Let’s get through the feed,” I suggested.
"We should stick to plan A if we can,” Roni promoted.
"We all okay with that?”
"Let him kill his self, pretty sure we’ll get him back quickly inta the wind,” Josh opined.
"That’s the plan then,” I agreed, confident we’d have some assistance once we break the BC barrier.
"Forty seconds!” Sonja called out as I grabbed my musette.
Damn, that’s a fair chunk but it’s still a long way to go, we’re not quite halfway yet.
I hurriedly restocked my pockets and bottle cages and off handed my bag to Ron, we decided on a simple drop off as Dad suggested after the first climb. More flags and whistles alerted the bunch to the level crossing, no sooner had we crossed it than we were into the climb. A combination of the feed and the railway meant BC’s grip on the front of the race was broken and it was a more animated bunch that danced up through the trees before we were spat into a wide verged, straight lane with a nagging single figure gradient.
That wind felt stronger here and the front of the peloton formed into a slightly messy echelon as we ascended between the grey of the drystone walls. Then the light changed suddenly, the flatness caused by the clouds replaced by brightness and sharp shadows below our wheels. Up ahead the flashing lights of the lead car identified Woggo’s position on the straight lane, I used a telegraph pole to guesstimate his lead, thirty seconds.
Perversely the road tilted upwards a couple more degrees as we reached a village, a place of mean stone cottages, ducks on the pond and mud on the road. But also a source of shelter from the wind. The lane became quickly narrower, the walls higher and its course less straight.
We had more respite when the road ceased climbing temporarily and I took the chance for a drink and to check the remaining bunch. We’ve lost a few bodies coming up from Pickering, but the race is remarkably intact still. I gave Ron the signal and checked that I was ready for action.
Up into another village and as we climbed out Manda shot out the front like a champagne cork. Of course that caused a reaction, Daz and Geth at the forefront of the action, Team Apollinaris sat tight behind them. It was of course another false attack but it served its purpose in getting others to do our work for us.
The clearly quite recently tarmacked road started to roll downwards as the BC lads brought Mand back then made the mistake of easing up. Josh and I didn’t need an invite, we powered through with several of the more astute competitors following us. This is it, Plan A in all its glory.
The road suddenly dipped, and from full gas, it was full anchors to negotiate a short but sharp descent complete with hairpin and of all things, a ford!. Fortunately there was barely a trickle of wet here and we were quickly climbing out of the little dell. Another animal retention barrier and a long descent with woodland continuing to shelter us from the wind.
Josh continued to push things, I allowed myself a look behind, the field is strung along behind us, a straggling mess. The road jinked across another ford, this one elevated keeping us out of any damp flowing. It was too good to last, as we started to climb again the wind caught us and I found myself fighting to stay on the tarmac.
Our pathfinder swung off inviting some assistance and a messy rotation started as we ploughed our way over Wheeldale Moor. By the time we reached the summit we not only had a great view towards the coast but a small core of about a dozen riders sharing the workload. Not only that but the distance to Wogan is considerably reduced, his escape looks to be terminally short lived now.
"For heavens sake,” Ron allowed.
I was thinking about the same as the next climb came into view, a strip of tarmac slicing up the opposite hillside at a silly angle. Dad did warn us last night and again this morning but somehow the reality trumps the words. Not only that but the Rosedale climb is worse than what we could see coming up in our next few minutes of racing.
First though was an equally steep downhill and another ford! I wanted to carry as much speed as possible into the ascent so let my brakes off and let the speed rise, dabbing on a last corner and then – shite! The other fords were effectively dry but this one isn’t, a constant stream of wet was clearly flowing over the roadway.
"WET!” I screamed as I jammed the anchors on.
"You okay Gab?” Dad yelled from the car.
"Wet,” I allowed in near panic as I spotted my steed sinking into the waters.
I dragged my bike out of the river with a bit of help from a spectator and after putting the chain back on remounted and tried to get moving again. I wasn’t the only one to take a ducking but fortunately the rest of the German contingent remained upright, Ron the only one getting more than splash wet as she stopped in the stream to check I was okay. Plan A has gone to pot – or has it?
The adrenalin was pumping, and I found both Josh and Roni waiting for me just around the bend, a string of riders ahead picking their way up the 20% climb.
"The others all went through while you were fishing your bike out,” Josh told me.
"That’s something,” I allowed squeezing my gloves out in disgust.
"Let’s get back in the action, girl,” Ron suggested.
In case you are in any doubt, climbing is hard, climbing when you are wet through to the skin is hard and horrible. I was thankful to be out of the saddle for at least a few minutes on the climb but also thankful for the sunshine balancing the chill from the breeze a bit. We picked our way through the remains of the bunch and by the top the leaders weren’t too distant, the fact that the others were waiting for us a bonus.
We quickly organised ourselves into team trial mode and resumed our pursuit of the race leaders. Over the moor, another grid and into narrow lanes down into Egton Bridge, a sharp turn and within metres we were once again climbing onto the moorland. It felt good to be surrounded by my friends, the wind on our backs, steadily grinding up into the open countryside once more.
It must be catching, the others, despite the workload, were exchanging happy grins.
“I can see the lead car,” Mand offered.
“Really?”Tal queried, standing up on her pedals to see up the road, "Looks like there’s about twenty riders up there.”
Well that kinda made sense, we’ve only passed one of the BC team, one of the newbies and the other lads we were with pre dunking are still ahead of us.
Enthused by the nearness of the flashing lights we pushed on up the incline.
“Sugar!”
"What’s up now?” Gret asked.
"Anyone got a spare bottle? Must’ve lost mine in the river.”
I'm sure there was one there when I dragged the bike out of the wet – oh well.
Tal pulled a bottle out, “Here, princess.”
"Cheers,” I allowed taking the offered bidon, I took a swig before stowing it in a cage – I had to rescue it as my downtube bottle cage was broken, damn. I slipped it instead into the seat tube receptacle - I guess that explains the loss of one bottle.
The gap across to the leaders closed, we finally made contact as the road started to dip down towards what I'm guessing is Rosedale again. At least we can have a short breather before the big climb.
"Cheers guys,” I offered as I stuffed half an energy bar in my mouth.
"You’d better finish the job now,” Tal instructed.
“Guess we’ll see you guys at the finish,” Gret added.
I'm not sure the front runners realised we were there until the hairpin just above the village when both myself and Mand braked late and rode around them.
"Feck!” Wogan supplied.
And so it was that I followed Mand into the lower slopes of Rosedale Chimney at the head of an already tired peloton.
Wogan came up alongside as we crossed the animal inhibitor and the three of us exchanged pedal strokes into the first corner. Mand dropped into bottom causing a slight acceleration as we headed for the second corner, no one else is coming, this is it, Plan A. The lead car was long gone, although we could hear it straining away somewhere above us.
We took the wide line around the wrong side of the road on the turn, then when you thought it couldn’t get any steeper it ramped up, bum squared! Mand, still leading the way, hesitated slightly and I angled to pass her, I was conscious that Woggo was still at my shoulder. Turn three is wider and we were pretty much abreast as we took the turn and got our first look at the final corner.
There were quite a few people cheering us up the climb, a good number of club riders precariously balanced on their cleats.
“Up, up, up!”
“Dig in, girls!”
"Not far now!”
Then it was just me and Mand, Wogan just disappeared.
“Go, Gabs!”
I glanced over at the last speaker and recognised Mary, the girl from the BLCA, I offered the merest nod of acknowledgement. I pushed the paddle and waited for the gear to change into bottom but nothing happened.
“Ease,” pant, “off,” my teammate gasped.
Of course, I quickly sat and repeated the move momentarily easing the pressure on the pedals. With a clatter the change was made and I was on the way again. I drew level with Mand again, a flutter of fingers as much as I could offer in way of acknowledgement. And then we were there, the 33% turn, steeper on the inside by far, my companion let rip with an expletive and I was on my own.
I ground the cranks around and finally the gradient slackened – oh not flat but a good few percent less than the last turn. If I'd been training I’d’ve been tempted to stop about now but this is a race, a race with no more than a dozen kilometres left to run. Over another lump and it eased further and the lead car was waiting twenty metres further on – has to be a good sign.
The views south are wide from up here but my attention has to be getting over the top. I clicked up first one then another gear, a grouse croaked as it flew barely a couple of meters to the side of me before gliding out over the heather. I allowed myself a quick look back as the road curved gently to the left up the hillside, Mand was already a long way back and Wogan not in sight, I'm truly on my own.
Having engaged the big ring just before the summit I set to in time trial mode, I built the speed quickly and as we approached Hutton again got to practice flying again before turning hard up the climb we descended earlier. Finding my borrowed bidon I took a slug as I passed the five K board, you can do it, Gab. The marshal waved me left and I was soon on another short but fast descent then up the other side, a glance across the valley revealed the pursuit maybe a mile astern.
Through a tiny village and it’s downhill all the way to the finish in Kirkbymoorside. No silly mistakes now, Gabs, I swept down the lane and there it was one kilometre to go and the buildings of the town. The lead car pulled off the road and I was into the finishing straight on Market place, I sat up, straightened my jersey and gave a two handed air punch, a grin plastered over my face as I crossed the line to a fair amount of cheering and MC excitement.
Maddy Bell © 09.05.17
I rolled to a halt and was engulfed by Angela, "You did it!”
"Water,” I gasped.
Sonja gave me a bottle and I took a swig before realising it was actually recovering drink.
"And it looks like its going to be a German one two,” the MC excitedly told the small crowd of onlookers.
We turned to look up the road, the gallop wasn’t huge and from the front almost impossible to identify anyone. An arm thrust skywards, an arm attached to Manda.
It turns out Mand wasn’t part of the sprint but rather she’d stayed away after Rosedale, her last minute sprinting keeping her a few lengths clear of the chasers. The rest of our lot came in a few minutes later along with Wogan who’d clearly blown big style on the Chimney. BC got a consolation prize mind, Darren won the gallop.
"I think you’ll all agree we’ve been treated to an excellent weekend’s racing, so a big thank you to our organisers, Ryedale Council and to all the volunteers who’ve made it possible.”
There was a polite round of applause.
"So, onto our race results for today, in third place, riding for British Cycling, Darren Fox!”
Daz climbed onto step three and accepted his prize, I gave him a bit of a cheer, he’s alright is Daz.
"In second place after a very gutsy ride on the Rosedale climb, riding for Team Apollinaris, Amanda de Vreen!”
I smoothed my Apollinaris shirt out and checked my braids as the crowd showed their appreciation. Well I had to get tidied up a bit after my ducking.
"And our winner today after an eventful day on, and off the saddle, for Team Apollinaris, Gabrielle Bond!”
I gave my usual wave and cheesy grin, exchanging greetings with the lower steps before climbing onto the top step. Oh yeah, this is what it’s all about!
The overall had some surprises, Josh taking the climber’s prize by a single point from Wogan after Saturday’s solo effort, I came joint third with Geth and Mand. It sounds like an Apollinaris whitewash but as you know we had to work damn hard for the result.
"And so we come to our overall podium, in third place at two minutes forty eight, for British Cycling, Jamie Wilson!”
It was actually quite close for the top ten, only a dozen seconds splitting second to tenth.
"Second overall just one second faster, for Team Apollinaris, Joshua Waugh!”
I did say it was close.
"And our overall winner, having won two out of three stages, for Team Apollinaris, Gabrielle Bond!”
I couldn’t shift the grin on my face as I received the winners jersey and my imposing trophy – gonna have to get a bigger trophy cabinet!
Of course there’s a penalty to pay for success, the press and sponsors all want their pound of flesh. So once the presentations were over there was another twenty minutes of posing and even a short interview with a guy from the Comic . I did manage to slip away eventually to get a shower, my shorts are getting a bit whiffy!
"You got everything, Amanda?” Dad asked.
"Think so.”
"Ready Mand?” Caro enquired joining our little farewell gathering.
"Sure, Caroline,” she allowed, "So I'll see you guys next week, don’t eat all the schnitzel, Gab!”
"Ha, as if!”
She gave me a hug and then she was gone, following Caro across the car park.
"Right then, folks, if we’re all ready?” Dad enquired.
"Let’s roll!” I enthused bouncing into my seat.
Dad put the Hymer in gear and our journey home to Germany began. We took a direct if not necessarily fast route south through the Ryedale lanes culminating in following the long straight drive past Castle Howard – not that you could really see anything. We joined the A64 towards York and started to make better time being a couple of hours ahead of the Sunday coast traffic.
"Anyone fancy a look at York?” Dad suggested as we approached the bypass.
"Could fancy a coffee,” Angela suggested.
"We can do that here, I was going to stop on the way down to Hull anyhow,” Dad told us.
And so we headed into Ebvracvm for a short stop, Dad seemed to know where he was headed – we have after all been here a time or two in the past. We got parked just outside the Walls and Dad led the way to Bootham Bar and through Petergate to the Minster where we headed into the familiar stop for the family Bond of Bennet’s Cafe.
"We gonna have time for a quick look around, Dave?” Sonja queried as we waited for our coffee and cake.
He checked his watch, "We can probably manage half an hour or so, we’ve got about an hour to the port, don’t really want to be there last minute.”
"Cool!” Ron enthused beside me.
"It’s not that exciting,” I told her.
"Not for you maybe, but I've never been before.”
Well she’s got me there I guess, I was even here just before Chrimbo.
After coffee our party split into two, Dad acting as guide to the adults, me the er, younger element. Dad headed for the Minster, I headed for the still open shops.
"The shops are open every Sunday?” Gret queried as we peered into a boutique’s window.
"Better believe it,” I allowed.
"Weird,” Tali observed.
I shrugged, having lived in Germany for over two years now I'm used to not having any shops bar the bakery open on the seventh day, I can’t say as I really miss it after all I'm racing most weeks anyhow and the shops are usually open late in the week anyhow.
Of course there’s a lot of stuff in York, a new visitor to the place could easily sink a couple of days, a full day will just about do the main stuff. It’s not the prettiest of places and it’s all but flat but history it can do in buckets, Romans, Vikings, Medieval besides more modern attractions like the National Railway Museum. So where can you get in half an hour? Certainly not in anywhere like the Jorvik centre, I made an executive decision and almost dragged them past the shops.
It was a fairly express tour of central York, a quick look at the Shambles, a loop round through the market place, through a couple of snickelways and back to the Minster where we met the adults before returning to our transport. Phone cameras were pressed into action at various random spots and in the end even I wanted to look in a couple of shops. Indeed, by the time we found the rest of our party even Josh was carrying some sort of souvenir in a bag.
We found a passing Grockle to take a couple of photos of our group in front of the Minster and then it was back to the camper. Dad took the long way around the city, encircling the City Wall on the ring road so our visitors got to see most of the interesting sites even if it wasn’t too close up.
It’s only about forty miles from York back to the ferry, the road is fairly quick and straight so it had only just turned six when we joined the queue of coaches and campers waiting to load onto the Pride of Rotterdam. My last two trips to the UK have been long weekends, both as it turns out, to Yorkshire, I'll have to get back to Warsop sometime.
"I thought we’d have the same cabin,” Tali mused once we reached our deck ten accommodation.
"It’s a different boat,” I pointed out as I attended to getting some slap on.
"We gonna do the bar again?”
"Let me think now – erm, yes.”
"Alright, smarty pants.”
"You can’t see them can you? I'm not tucked in?” I dropped a hand to check my dress wasn’t caught in my knickers.
"Geez, Gab, how much are you putting on?”
"Enough, look done,” I announced slamming the brush back into the massy tube.
“’Bout time.”
We have of course got the full package again, multi course buffet dinner and breakfast, being fairly early loading we managed to get to the restaurant not too long after it started serving and so scored a couple of window tables overlooking the Humber and the northern tip of Lincolnshire.
"Can we have a couple of bottles of Pinot,” Dad requested when the drinks steward came round, “on each table.”
Oh yeah, free booze!
Once the steward had departed Dad addressed our table, “Don’t get too used to it, but you’ve all done the team proud this weekend, we’ve come away with the major silverware and from what I've seen and been told everyone over here has been impressed not just by your riding but by your professionalism on and off the bikes.”
"Except Woggo,” I suggested.
"Who?” Dad asked.
"Tha new BC guy, man,” Josh volunteered.
"Wogan,” I filled in.
"Well apart from him, all the race people have been impressed. So wine with dinner, don’t spoil things in the bar later, eh?”
There was an exchange of guilty looks.
"Er no, Dad.”
I decided to go with the curry this time, to be honest I cook a better roast than this lot anyhow, then after a reasonably large mixed portion of chicken Madras and prawn Korma with all the accessories I took my time working through desserts, cheese plate and finally coffee. To be fair, all our party were taking their time this evening, it was close to sailing time when we left the restaurant.
"I'm going up top,” I mentioned.
"What for?” Ron asked.
"To say goodbye to England,” I offered, "There’s a bar too.”
"Now yer talking, hen!” Josh enthused.
We headed to the lift which zoomed us up to the ‘Sun Lounge’, we weren’t the only ones making the journey for pretty much the same reason.
PRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPPP!
The ships horn nearly deafened us as we reached the open deck, we’re on our way. The others found the bar while I found a space at the railing pulling my cardi closer as the wind a dozen storeys above the river whipped about me. It’s not the most spectacular departure from the UK but I was glued to the rail watching Yorkshire, Lincolnshire and indeed the land of my birth slipping away behind us.
"Here you go, Gab,” Ron pushed a bottle of Belgian beer into my paw, "Sorry to be leaving?”
Am I?
"I know it’s a bit weird but not really,” I admitted.
"Not even a little bit?”
“Maybe a smidge but apart from my Gran there’s nothing here for me, Germany – well Dernau’s home now, it’s where my friends are, where I went to school, where I work.”
"Where your boyfriend is?” Ron added.
“Okay I'll admit it, where my boyfriend is. It’s nice to visit England from time to time but I can’t ever imagine living there again.”
"Wow, you have caught it bad,” Ron stated before taking a pull on her own bottled beverage.
"What about you? Ever fancy moving somewhere else?”
"Why would I?”
"I dunno,” I admitted with a shrug, “University?”
"There’s a university in Düssel, why would I go anywhere else? I travel, will travel all over with the team after all.”
The Humber opened out and we slipped past Spurn point as we headed out into the North Sea.
Maddy Bell © 09.05.17
I wasn’t ill at breakfast, two glasses of wine over dinner and two bottles of beer didn’t have quite the effect that all that beer had on the outward journey, it was Tali who needed encouragement to get up and at it Monday morning. It’s a bit strange really, the boat is docked before you even go to breakfast – I think they unload the trucks and stuff. Anyhow the camper was once more on terra firma somewhat before Dieter’s hired MPV.
"Okay guys,” Dad called our impromptu meeting to order, "I'll keep this short, I've already spoken to George this morning, he sends his congratulations to everyone by the way, long story short, we’ve decided that you can have next weekend off racing – it’s not compulsory, if you want to race you can, you’re all gonna be coming to Neuwied in ten days or so we thought you might want to kickback for a few days, I'm sure there’s stuff you all need to do before coming over..”
"Cool,” I enthused.
"Don’t get carried away, I still expect you to train, don’t want the BC lot showing us up, eh?”
"We mashed ‘em this weekend like,” Josh mentioned.
"So they’ll be out for revenge when they come over,” Dieter pointed out.
"Right then, I know Dieter’s keen to get on the road, I'll see you all next week.”
A few minutes later, after a round of goodbyes, the Hymer trailed the people carrier out of the terminal car park. We followed out to the main road east at which point Dieter gave a toot before putting his clog down and we were soon distanced. There was a fair bit of traffic about, late commuters, commercials departing the port area but we suffered no real hold ups.
We stayed on the A15 rather than taking the Breda road only changing roads as we reached Nijmegen. The Dutch motorways aren’t always joined up sensibly and it took three junctions and two changes of direction before we picked up the E31, the road that’ll take us all the way to Düsseldorf.
"We’ll stop at the next services, I need to get fuel, coffee?”
"Sounds good, Dave,” Angela agreed stifling a yawn.
And so we pulled off the concrete strip into the services where we filled the camper’s fuel tank before finding a spot to park amongst the commercial users of the service area – well we don’t fit in a car parking slot.
"More food?” Ron queried.
I paused, undecided as to whether to have the apricot Danish or the almond croissant, “Breakfast was hours ago.”
"Less than three,” my friend suggested.
I loaded both onto my plate, "Time for elevenses then,” I grinned.
"You really are something, Bond,” she sighed.
"You’ll miss me when you’re hobnobbing with the seniors.”
"Yeah, I will,” she agreed quietly.
"You two coming?” Dad enquired from the till.
Ron picked up the tongs and swiftly added a chocolate croissant to my plate.
"You two stopping for some lunch?” Angela queried as we turned off the A3 motorway for the last few kilometres into Mettmann.
"Gab?” Dad asked.
"Got nowhere to be ‘till later,” I noted.
"In that case, yes please, Ang,” he allowed with, I'm sure, a thankful sigh.
"The girls can put the washing through while I sort the food.” she hinted.
"Mu-um!”
Drew wouldn’t’ve got landed with domestic chores, there again I'm not Drew am I? As far as Angela’s concerned I might have answered to Drew but I've always been a girl, Gaby is just a different label on the same product. I guess it’s a job less when we get back to Dernau. Still sucks.
"Dad!”
"Hmmph?” he allowed, returning to consciousness.
"Food’s on the table.”
"Must’ve fallen asleep,” he admitted.
Not much, he’s been sawing away for nearly an hour.
A Grönberg ‘light’ lunch still runs to three courses, today she whipped up tomato soup, ‘octopus’ Frankfurters1 with potato salad and a leaf salad fresh from the garden. Oh, and a slice of strawberry torte with our coffee.
"So I'll come up Thursday,” Dad confirmed.
The conversation over lunch has been largely logistics for Ron joining the senior squad and Angela spending several weeks based at the house in Neuwied.
"She’ll be ready, Dave,” Angela stated.
"Mu-um,” Ron moaned, "I am seventeen.”
“And act like seven sometimes.”
I had to stifle a laugh as Ron made a very juvenile pout.
"Well thanks for lunch, but we need to make a move if we’re to miss the rush hour traffic,” Dad suggested.
"See you soon, Gabs,” Ron mentioned as we hugged.
I was failing to keep the tears at bay, she’s been a part of my life almost since I arrived in Germany, we’ve raced together, argued, shared rooms, shopped, bitched and, well become pretty close. Oh I know we’ll see each other but it’s not going to be the same is it? We won’t have the same races, same experiences to share.
“Best go before I start properly blubbing.”
"You are such a girl, Gabs,” she stated dabbing at the wetness on her own face.
"Takes one to know one.”
"What’re you thinking?” Dad asked as we crawled past Kӧln, roadworks at the A4 junction.
“Nothing really.”
"You coulda fooled me, kiddo.”
"Just thinking about Ron.”
"Yes?”
"Guess I'm a bit jealous,” I admitted.
"Whatever for, spud? In case you missed stuff you’re the one with the rainbow jersey, you’re our team leader. So what’re you jealous about?”
"Her joining the seniors and all I guess.”
"You’ll get your turn, luv, if you want to. So any idea why Manda’s changed her mind?”
“None, she never told me why she was leaving in the first place.”
"Well I'm glad she’s staying with us, I've only got to fill one slot instead of two,” Dad grinned.
We got home just after four thirty, Dad left me with our bags and the damp washing to hang out before heading down to team HQ.
Brrrrp, brrrp. Brrrrp, brrrp.
“Bond,” I allowed when I found my Handy.
"Where are you?” P demanded.
I cracked an eye to check, "The lounge?”
“At home?”
"Yeah,” I cautiously agreed.
“Brill, you are coming to Cheer tonight?”
"Guess so, have to ride up though, Dad’s down in Neuenahr.”
“’S no prob, Ingrid’ll take us.”
"Really?”
"She has her licence now, she needs the practice. So we’ll see you in like half an hour.”
"Half an hour!” I exclaimed, "What time is it?”
“Quarter to six.”
"Shitza!”
"What’s up?”
“Er nothing, see you in a bit, tschuss.”
"Tschussie!”
I sat properly up, I must’ve fallen asleep after putting the washing out on the drier. Well at least it’s only Cheer, I hurried up to my eyrie and started hunting for stuff to wear.
The girls were a bit early which put me in a twiddle, I nearly went bum over chest trying to put on a trainer as I short cutted across the grass to the Sebenschuh’s car.
"Whoa, Gabs, take it easy, girl,” Ingrid suggested as I slid to a halt.
"Soz, I fell asleep, you woke me up when you rang, P.”
“Asleep?” Pia queried.
"I was up early,” I told them in my defence. Well not really that early but it felt early, you know, after last night.
There was a horrible crashing noise as Ingrid attempted to get us moving.
"It’s in here somewhere,” the elder sister offered.
“Er right,” I allowed hastily putting on my seatbelt as we kangarooed away from Chez Bond.
"So why were you up early?” Pia asked.
“Breakfast? on the boat?”
"I thought you said you were getting the ferry last night?”
"We did, it sails overnight.”
"To where?” Inge asked.
"Rotterdam?”
"So you came from Holland today? It took all day?”
"Yeah, the camper’s not exactly fast and we did stop for lunch at Mettmann. So what’s so exciting, P?”
“Exciting?”
"You were bouncing when you rang?”
"Was I? Oh yeah.” she agreed.
"Well spill then,” I demanded – she can be so infuriating at times.
"Dad’s signed up two more coach groups,” Ingrid advised before her sister could reply.
"Inge!” Pia moaned, "I wanted to tell her.”
"So that’s good, yeah?” I opined.
"Definitely,” P enthused, "First one’s tomorrow.”
"You can do it, Gab?” Inge queried.
Talk about getting dropped in it! I mentally looked at my diary, Tuesday so it’s early start so I can go training, guess without Mand I could go straight from the kiosk.
“Er I guess, can probably be at yours just before six? You do remember Mand’s not here this week?”
"I told you,” Ingrid supplied.
"I thought she was just talking about the weekend,” Pia sighed.
"I suppose we’re in Kostüm?” I asked.
“Er yeah,” P confirmed.
My mind raced, we can cope with a body less but it makes it hard work, who can we get to help? I had a light-bulb moment.
"I might know someone who could help out.”
"Who?” Ingrid queried.
"I'd best speak to them before I say,” I hedged.
"They alright wearing Kostüm?” P enquired.
"Yeah, pretty sure they are, it’s only the one night after all, right?”
Maddy Bell © 11.05.17
"So how was the weekend?” P enquired as we sat on the wall outside Mayschoß bahnhof feeding our faces with pizza.
"Was alright,” I allowed.
"It’s like getting blood from a stone,” Ingrid noted.
"So did you win?” P pressed.
"Might of.”
"Ga-ab,” my friend complained.
I finished my slice of double pepperoni, "Okay, I won, satisfied?”
"You can be infuriating you know, Gab,” Pia supplied.
Says she.
"You both done?” Inge asked swinging the car keys.
"Done here,” I allowed closing the box on the three slices reserved for Dad. Well I could hardly not take him some, it’s his Monday treat as much as mine.
"Max,” I hissed into my Handy.
"Gab? why’re you whispering?”
Why indeed? Dad’s down watching the telly and there’s no one else in the house.
"Er no reason,” I admitted.
"You won yesterday?”
"Uh huh,” I admitted.
"Thought you were gonna be back earlier?”
"We were but I fell asleep and then it was cheer.”
"That’s your story,” his voice had a smile to it.
"It’s true, so what’re you doing tomorrow?”
"Going to the kiosk for lunch?”
"Apart from that.”
"Dunno,” he started, "Stables most likely.”
"What about in the evening?”
"Evening? You suggesting we get together?”
"Sort of.”
"Weather forecast is looking dry,” he hinted.
"What's’ that got to,” then it clicked, "Oh right, no not like that.”
He sighed, "What were you thinking then?”
"I've got a waitressing gig at the Stube tomorrow night.”
"Really?”
"Really, anyway with Mand away we’re a bit short handed and I sort of wondered whether, you would like fill in?”
"As a waitress?”
"Duh!” I allowed, "Much as I think you’d look cute in a dirndl I was thinking more your Landeskostüm.”
"What the whole lot?”
"Shirt and trousers would do,”
"Why the kostüm?”
"If I have to wear a dirndl you can wear your smart trousers anyway it’s a coachload of tourists, we’re supposed to be giving a traditional German experience.”
"There’s no yodelling is there?”
"You volunteering?”
"You’re the singer in the family.”
Family? "What’s that supposed to mean?”
"Nothing, just that, well you can actually hold a tune, I'm tone deaf.”
"What?”
"I said...duh!”
"Gotcha!”
"If you say so,” he sighed.
"So you up for it?”
"What’s in it for me?”
"Well it pays like thirty euros?”
"Hmm?”
"And you get to walk me home,” I suggested.
"Well in that case I'm in.”
"Cool! You want gravy tomorrow?”
"Gravy?”
"On your pie, should be steak and kidney.”
"Ah, whatever, if you like,” he paused a moment, "Gonna have to go, Gran’s shouting for me.”
“Bum, give her my love I guess.”
"Will do, what about me?”
"What about you?”
"Don’t I get anything?”
I noisily kissed the side of my hand.
"Now you’re talking!”
"No, Max, that’s kissing.”
"Details, details, have to go, see you tomorrow?”
"Nite, honeybunch,” I purred.
"Night, liebchen, Wiedersehn Freddy!” he finished loudly.
Hmm, hopefully we can catch up on some of the tonsil hockey we’ve missed this weekend.
"Here you go,” I told Con as I passed her the Edinburgh Woollen Mills bag.
"Oo, goodies!” she gleefully stated before peeking inside, "I’ll open it later, so, good trip? I'm betting you won?”
"Only two stages.”
"Out of?”
"Three,” I casually allowed, “Josh won the other one.”
She rolled her eyes. I think I've said before she might be my BF but her interest in my sporting activities really does go no further than win or lose, she just switches off if I start describing stuff in more detail. Now if we’re talking boys….
"So I guess P told you about tonight?”
"Yeah,” I agreed, "I've sorted someone to cover for Mand too.”
"You have?”
"Yep,” I confirmed slightly smugly.
"Well who is it then?”
"You’ll find out later,” I smirked.
"Ga-ab,” she groaned.
"So how’s it been here?” I requested to turn the conversation to safer subjects.
Apparently where we had a dry weekend it rained here Saturday which kept the punters away but Sunday turned out well as even if it wasn’t sunny it was dry. I felt a little guilty at not having been around but on the other hand, well racing is still more important to me. Oh I've got a muggle career sort of mapped out but what I really want to do is race bikes, I might not have the Grand Tours to aim for but that doesn’t mean I can’t be the best.
"Hmm, nice pie,” Max allowed as he finished his lunch.
I used a napkin to catch a drip of gravy on his chin, well I could hardly lick it off out here, in public, could I?
"Herr Thesing seems to have them cracked now, some of his new fillings don’t work so well.”
"Yeah, that sausage and Sauerkraut was a bit, er, edgy,” he agreed.
"Here,” I slipped a slim package across the table out of sight of my wardens.
"What’s this?”
“Prezzie from Angleterre.”
"You didn’t have to get me anything.”
"I wanted to, go on open it.”
He slit through the tape with his lunch knife then withdrew the small box.
"It’s a money clip,” I advised him, "You know for notes, that's the Yorkshire Rose.”
"Er thanks.”
"You don’t like it,” I suggested, slightly miffed by his reaction.
"I do,” he placated, "It’s, a, um, unusual. And I wasn’t expecting anything.”
"I'll give you your main prezzie later.”
"Hmm, I'll look forward to it.”
"So six o’clock, right.”
"Six,” he confirmed.
"See you later,” I leant across the table and gave him a peck on the nose before gathering the dirty crockery and returning to the kiosk.
I could probably have got away without training today but it didn’t feel right even contemplating that so I set off towards Ahrbrück and the climb up through Kesseling, past Mart’s place. I don’t feel bad enough to do a long session so it’s only over to Ramersbach and home via Ahrweiler, it’s still about fifty K so a couple of hours steady riding but I wasn’t going that steady.
After a couple of days riding on the wrong side of the road it felt a little weird riding on the er right again. Not weird weird, I'm sure Dad and Dieter had more issues in Yorkshire being sat on the blind side of our vehicles but nevertheless it was odd pulling up at junctions and stuff. Anyhow I gave the climb some welly, it’s longer than any of the English climbs at the weekend, maybe being based here does have some race merit?
"You ready yet?” Con called up the stairs.
"Yeah, yeah, just coming.”
I clomped down the stairs, grabbed my baseball boots before sitting on the stairs to become shod.
"We’re gonna be late,” Con fretted.
"Not by much.”
She sighed theatrically, “Bye, Herr Bond.”
"See you later, girls,” Dad called back.
I grabbed my bag and found myself pretty much dragged out of the door.
"Thanks for the scarf,” Con told me as we walked up to the Sebenschuh kingdom.
"Wasn’t sure what to get you, they really do have some tat in the tourist shops.”
"Well it’s very nice,” she pulled me into a half hug and then we were there.
It really isn’t far up to Rech, about a kilometre and a half from Schloss Bond to the Stube, so about fifteen minutes determined walk along Zaungartenstraße. We were late, not a lot, Pia was already setting out cutlery and Max was being instructed on operation of the order pad thingy by Inge when we arrived.
"Ah good,” Herr Sebenschuh greeted us, "Max will help me with the drinks, you girls know what you are doing at table. It’s a different menu but nothing difficult to serve, okay? Coats off, they’ll be arriving at half past, can you do coats please, Gaby?”
"Er sure,” I agreed. Dang I won’t get much chance to talk to Max.
"That was sneaky, Gaby Bond,” Con huffed.
"What?”
"Getting Max to work tonight,” she extrapolated.
"Well he works table at the Schloss and he has Kostüm,” I mentioned.
"And he’s your boyfriend,” Pia chuckled as we set about completing the table setting business.
I shrugged, "He was available.”
"As a waiter or boyfriend?” P smirked.
“Both?” I coyly suggested.
Maddy Bell © 11.05.17
"Nite guys!” P called as the three of us set off down the driveway.
"Tschuss!” I called back with a wave.
What an evening! The Brits we had for these do’s are like puppies compared to tonight’s load of Nederlanders, not enough of this, too much of that – well you get the idea and they’re terrible tippers too. Oh and there were a lot of them, a full coach, the Brits are usually a few seats short of a full set.
"I'll walk you back to Dernau,” Max proclaimed when we got down to the road.
"Oh we’re fine,” Con started, I made some rapid signals at her to desist that line, "But it’ll be nice to have an er man about?”
"You’d better,” I exhorted, before pointedly placing my hand in his.
"See you guys later,” Con told us when we reached Schloss Bond.
"Er yeah, laters.”
"Nite Con,” Max added.
I checked that we were out of sight of the house and after Max lifted me onto the wall proceeded to check his tonsils out. I had to do a thorough job and receive reciprocal treatment, to be honest I didn’t even notice the light going.
"You two want coffee?”
Talk about jump, I’m sure I was several feet out of my skin.
“Jules!”
"Evening Max,” my sister continued from her vantage point above us.
"Er hi Juliette,” he managed.
"How’d you know we were here?”
"Used it myself dumkopf – and I saw Connie waving to you.”
"Sugar,” I sighed, "Dad know?”
"He’s not daft sis.”
"Guess not,” I agreed.
"I'll put the kettle on.”
"I er ought to be going,” Max suggested.
"Oh no you don’t lover boy,” Jules told him, "You don’t escape that easily, two minutes.”
"She’s worse than Mum.”
"Well if we’re going before the firing squad might as well have a last cigarette.”
"Huh?” I managed looking at my lip buddy.
"You know, last request? Oh sod it, come here.”
When we broke for air I think I had the general idea.
"Guess we’d best go in or Jule’s’ll have the search parties out.” I sighed.
"If its not Hansel and Gretel,” Jules chuckled when I dragged Max into the kitchen, "Nice legs Maxxie.”
“Jules,” I complained.
"You’re no fun Gab, you’d best go through, you can save Bo, Dad’s been grilling him for the last half an hour.”
Boris, he of the kinky boot fetish, hmm wonder if Max…. No, don’t want to go there!
"Come on Lips, lets rescue Boris,” I sighed tugging my boyfriend further into the house.
"Hiya Dad, Max walked us back from the Stube, hi Boris.”
"Hi Gab,” my sister’s man allowed with a thankful tone to his voice.
"Is it that time already,” Dad queried with a look at his watch, "Hi Max, thanks for bringing her back.”
"Er, evening Herr Bond,” he awkwardly replied.
"So what’re you two talking about?” I enquired ushering Max towards the sofa.
"I was just telling Boris about the weekend.”
"Been there, done that,” I quipped.
"So er, why are you guys dressed like Bavarians?” Boris queried.
"Been working up at the Stube, the tourists like their food with a side of culture.”
"Don’t you get any ideas Boris Appelroth,” Jules stated arriving with a tray of coffee stuff.
Max didn’t stay long, I guess its a bit off putting when your girlfriends sister is sat on her boyfriends lap as if it was just ordinary and you, well its awkward. Anyhow, we managed a quick goodnight kiss before he headed back to Rech, a passenger in Boris’ banger.
"Okay guys, what’s going on?” I demanded when I returned to the living room.
"Nothing,” Jules suggested.
"Tell your sister,” Dad instructed.
"Oh alright,” she grinned.
"You’re pregnant,” I offered.
"Am not, we take precautions! I got a place at Sheffield.”
"The University?”
"Dur! Not the paddling pool, of course the University.”
"Er congrats, hang on, isn’t that where Boris is going?”
"Might be.”
"Tell her the rest Jules,” Dad prodded.
"I'm getting there, Bo wants us to get married!”
"Married?”
"Well not like straight away,” she advised.
"Dad?”
"They virtually live together already,” he shrugged.
"Does Mum know?”
"We rang her earlier,” Jules advised, "She’s not exactly celebrating but she sort of gave her blessing.”
I bet.
"I'm not gonna have to wear a meringue am I?”
"I'll find you the biggest, frilliest one around.”
"You would as well,” I sighed, "Wondered why you were here mid week.”
"Well you were away at the weekend and Bo wanted to ask Dad as soon as.”
"He’s brave,” I muttered.
"We’re gonna get a flat together in Sheff, we’re gonna go stay with the Peters in a couple of weeks to sort it all out.”
"He get you a ring?”
"Not yet, its hardly a priority.”
"So when’s the bun fight?”
"We’ll wait till after Uni, give Dad time to save up.”
"Thanks,” Pater sighed.
"Married?” Con reiterated. She might not be working today but it doesn’t mean I have to wait to tell her the big news.
"Yup,” I confirmed, "They’re going to the same University in England too.”
"Never thought your sister was the marrying kind.”
"Me either,” I agreed, "Have to go, we’re getting a bit of queue.”
“’Kay, laters.”
"Laters.” I agreed ending the call.
"Frikadel,” I stated delivering a plate of Frites and German burger to my kissing partner.
"Er thanks, so what’s this news?”
“Jules and Boris are tying the knot.”
"They are?”
"Uh huh, my turn to drag you to a wedding.”
"We both got invites to Ana and Sara’s do’s,” he pointed out, "It’s not another shotgun is it?”
"Not yet,” I smirked.
"How’re we fixed for this evening?”
"Hmm, I reckon I could do with a bit of cross training, maybe a run, say half six,” I proposed nicking one of his chips.
"Ring?”
"Maybe,” I teased – well I can’t give in straight away, a girl’s got to have some standards.
"Running again?” Dad queried, "I thought you hated running?”
"Well, it adds a bit of variety to my training programme, too much riding makes Gaby a dull girl,” I proffered.
"Hmm, well don’t over do it, we don’t want any pulled muscles or twisted ankles do we?”
"Er no,” I agreed adjusting my sports bra.
"Hut hum.”
"Oops, sorry Dad.”
"I hope you don’t do that in the street?”
"No, course not.”
"Never know with you, got your phone?”
"I'm only going up the vineyards.”
"Even more reason to take it.”
"Okay,” I sighed before digging my Handy out of my bag, "Satisfied?”
"You always wear make up to go running?”
"I er don’t want my face getting dry, it gets all flaky, horrible.”
"Remind Max to lock his bike, there’s been a few stolen recently.”
"I will!” I chirped – oh bum, busted! "That obvious?”
"Might as well have put a sign on your back.”
"Dang!”
"You are more devious than your sister mind, it was always extra homework with her.”
"I'll go get changed.”
"I'm not stopping you going kiddo, you’re mother and I, we were young once you know. All I ask is that you’re sensible, I don’t want to be a grandpa just yet, I’m you’re Dad, I don’t want to know all the details, just that you’re safe.”
"We’re not doing anything,” I supplied turning an interesting shade of puce.
"That’s for you to decide not me, you’ll do what you want whatever me or your mother says.”
How can he be so, so reasonable?
"Well go on then, don’t keep him waiting, he’ll be waiting for his run, oh and he’s invited to supper, nine o’clock sharp.”
I sighed again, "Yes Dad.”
"We’ve been busted,” I advised as I joined Max by the gate into the vineyards.
"Busted?”
"Yeah, Dad saw through the running, you’re to come for supper.”
"Sugar, now?”
"Nine o’clock,” I grinned back.
"Time for a bit of a run then.”
"I've put the ring in,” I hinted presenting my pierced nostril to him.
"Hmm, might just have to investigate that a bit closer.”
"Have to catch me first!” I darted off onto the fitness course, Max following behind.
Maddy Bell © 12.05.17
For some reason I decided to check my emails after Max left, I'm not the most regular computer user, I'm not one of those, what is it Luddles,1 but away from school stuff I've usually got too much going on to spend time sat in front of the screen. Oh I check for emails maybe a couple of times a week but I tend to use text on the Handy more these days.
How many? I clicked down the list, junk, junk, maybe, junk, junk, huh?, junk. By the end of my first pass fifty emails were reduced to six that weren’t promoting Viagra, breast enlargement or other equally unwanted services – where do they get my address from? The remaining mails were at least worthy of a look tonight.
Mary Davis, who she and how did she get my email? BLCA, oh it’s that girl!
Let’s see now,
Dear Mary, thanks for your email, it was a great weekend, we really enjoyed the trip and winning was an added bonus. Were you on the Rosedale climb? That was really tough, the cheering really helped. Hmm, what else? Oh right, I hope you are having some success with your riding and get some PB’s – she rides time trials mostly if I remember rightly.
Hmm, think that’ll do, I signed it and hit send.
The other two mails were actually sales junk from a book seller I got some manga from and a flyer for the next Con – in Manchester! Remember that trip with Mad and Aunt Carol? Geez that seems like forever ago – well I guess we were still living in Warsop then so it is quite a while back. Oh well, I closed the computer down and got ready for bed.
"You want a lift this morning?” Dad offered when I stumbled yawning into the kitchen.
"Hmm, please,” I replied opening the fridge, “need to go shopping.”
"If you can drag yourself away from your boyfriend for a bit we can go this afternoon.”
Oh yeah, now that was embarrassing. Last night, Dad and Max, talk about cringe, poor Max got the full on lecture about dating a Bond girl. When he started with that ‘I don’t want to be a grandpa yet’ stuff I nearly died, I mean Dad was just about saying we should, you know, do the sex thing.
I may be okay with kissing, a lot okay in fact, even a bit of er groping about but ‘third base’ - that is so not happening! Max stoically sat through Dad’s presentation, he was nearly as pink as me by the time he excused himself to ride home. I'll have to apologise when I see him later.
"Er okay,” I agreed.
"Things all set for Saturday?”
"I think so, Eva and Christina are bringing the crepe trailer, Hen’s dropping stuff off tomorrow, all the girls’ll be working, should be good, kinda wish I was riding.”
"Marshal’s regret.”
"Eh?”
"That’s what your mother calls it, you get roped into helping out at an event, marshalling or something then it turns out perfect weather or you’ve been pinging all week.”
"I get it, still.”
"You can’t ride everything, kiddo,” he pointed out, "You training straight from the kiosk?”
"Was going to.”
"Finish your Fruhstück, I'll put your bike in the bus.”
"I kid you not.”
"Seriously? I can’t imagine papa doing that,” Con stated.
"When he went on about, you know," *I made quotation marks in the air before going on, “’being careful’, I wanted to crawl under a rock.”
"I bet.”
“As if I'm ever doing that!”
"What, ever?”
"You’re still a virgin?”
"Well duh! Although technically I'm not, you know with the ‘reconstruction’ stuff.”
"TMI.”
"If Max thinks we’re gonna do that stuff he’s got another thing coming.”
"Gott, you sound like Maria,” Con opined.
You won’t know Maria, she was like the class pariah, claimed to be a lesbian, spouting all this stuff about how bad lads are all the time.
"Do not, I'm not lesbisch.”
For some reason a flash of cuddling up with Soph popped into my head, okay that was, er nice but I've nothing to compare it with, well not properly, not exactly.
The subject of my ‘affections’ putt putted up to the kiosk just after twelve, I had wondered if Dad had maybe frightened him off.
"Hi guys,” he greeted having waited for the counter to clear.
"Max,” Con offered with a weird look.
"You got something in your eye, Con?”
"Er no, I'll leave you two lovebirds to it.”
I rolled my eyes, Dad’s frankness is clearly catching.
"So you eating?” I asked feeling somewhat awkwardly.
"Er, I guess.”
“Look sorry about Dad last night.”
"It was a bit… I dunno, unexpected?”
"Him offering his youngest daughter’s virginity would be a surprise.”
Max coloured up nearly as quickly as I do.
"Er yeah, about that, I was thinking...”
"Well think again,” I snapped before he could finish.
"Perhaps I should go.”
"Perhaps you should.”
He turned and left without a word. Why the hell did I say that? What was I thinking?
"You handled that well,” Kristen suggested with just the merest hint of sarcasm.
"Urgh! Flippin’ Dad!”
I was in less than a good mood as I headed up towards Effelsberg. Since Max’s truncated visit at lunch I've done nothing but bitch about Max, Dad, the weather, Max, customers, Max. How dare he suggest – hang on, he never actually finished what he was going to say did he? I rode on autopilot, arguing with myself, anyone passing must think I'm a right loon.
At the roundabout I ended up doing a full lap, I didn’t fancy going to Műnstereifel or down Schuld way so I headed north towards Rheinbach. Urgh, I've mucked things up with Max now, I pretty much accused him of wanting to rape me, well maybe that's a bit strong but – oh I don’t know what I mean.
It seemed like just a couple of minutes before I arrived at Rheinbach where I picked up the Ahrweiler road tracking the A61 motorway. I took out my frustrations on my bike, the supposed steady ride became a thrash, I covered the twenty K to Bad Neuenahr in thirty minutes. At least I felt a bit calmer now, it was me over reacting that was the problem, Max never got his say, Dad’s only trying to look after his daughter – of course he didn’t suggest we have sex, that’s all in my head.
"Everything okay?” Dad asked cautiously as I banged around the kitchen making a shopping list.
"Guess.”
"It doesn’t look very okay to me.”
"I'm fine.”
"If you say so.”
"I broke up with Max,” I blurted out.
"You have? I thought you liked him?”
"I do, but last night.”
"Was just me letting you know that me and your Mum are okay with you two dating, you have been sort of together for quite a while after all.”
"I know,” I admitted, "But I sort of over reacted and told Max to take a walk earlier.”
"Whatever for?”
"I don’t know, Daddy,” I found myself hugging Dad and fighting back the tears.
"It’s okay spud, it’ll sort itself out,” Dad told me, it was the holding rather than the words that started to calm me though.
I felt like a wreck pushing the trolley around Aldi, in my head everyone was pointing and making snide comments - ‘there’s the girl who can’t keep her boyfriend’, but it really was just my imagination.
“Onions?” Dad queried.
"The Spanish,” I tonelessly advised.
Oh I sort of got the anger and guilt out of my system – well a bit at least but I'm still miserable. Somehow I've got to fix things with Max but what if he doesn’t want to fix things? I pushed the trolley along without really taking much note of our progress around the store.
"What’s this, Gab, tam und tuche?”
"Erm, let’s see,” I requested reaching for the list, one glance solved the mystery.
"So?”
Am I really stood here doing this? "Er lady things?” I hinted.
"Tampons, why didn’t you just put that,” he loudly announced to the store.
"Dad!”
"What? You think I don’t know about this stuff, I've a wife and two teenage daughters.”
"But you don’t have to shout about it,” I suggested colouring up.
"Go get what you need, kids,” he sighed clearly unfazed.
"Where’re we going?” I asked as Dad drove straight past the turn into the village.
"You’ll see.”
"Hmmph!” I still haven’t forgiven him for embarrassing me in the supermarket.
When we turned across the river into Rech it was however fairly obvious where we were headed.
"Da-ad!”
"I've already spoken to Max.”
"When?” I demanded.
"When you were cleaning yourself up earlier., you young lady need to make an apology.”
"But...”
"But nothing.”
We bounced into the Schloss’ courtyard and came to a halt by the family door.
"Go on then,” Pater cajoled.
I checked my reflection in the vanity mirror, red eyes, frizzy hair, no make-up, oh yeah, I'll make a great impression.
I knocked on the door, it seemed like an age before I heard the sounds of someone coming to the door, if it’s Gloria or Wilhelm I'm just gonna turn around and leave. It wasn’t, no it was Maximilian Maria von Strechau in person.
"Gabs.”
"Er can we talk?”
“About what?”
"Please, Max,” I almost begged.
"You’d best come in then,” he allowed moving to one side for me to go inside.
I looked back at Dad sat in the A Klasse, he gave a nod so I turned back and squeezed past Max.
Maddy Bell © 13.05.17
"Max!” I moaned as I writhed under his touch, his lips gliding from place to place across my breasts, his fingers tracing an intricate pattern in other more delicate areas. I arched my back in reply to his delicate touch, anything to continue the intensity of the moment.
My eyes snapped open, I was disorientated for a moment but after wiping some of the sleep from my eyes I recognised my eyrie, sunlight, if not exactly streaming in, at least amply lighting things. I laid my head back against the pillow, outside workmen called to each other, it sounds like something big is being delivered for the building site. Must’ve been something out there woke me, damn, just when the dream was getting interesting too.
Last night was, well embarrassing, I ate humble pie over hot chocolate in the Schloß kitchen, Max sat listening impassively as I tried to explain myself.
"Am I forgiven?”
"You were always forgiven, Liebchen, I was just waiting for you to calm down,” he cracked a grin.
"Why you,” I slapped ineffectually at him, a move he easily dodged and which threw me off balance. "You let me say all that?”
He shrugged awkwardly having caught me, "You seemed to want to say it all.”
"Oooo!”
"Come here.”
"What about your rents?”
"I don’t want to kiss them.”
"You know what I mean,” I stated moving closer and lacing my fingers behind his neck.
"They’re cool, probably plying your Dad with Châteaux Sebenschuh by now.”
We kissed for a bit, just held each other for a bit and – well that was it really.
A stupidly loud crash outside brought me back to the here and now, why do they have to start with the noise so early? Hang on, I sat up and looked at the alarm clock – sugar, slept through again.
"Sleep well?” Dad enquired.
"Er yeah,” I allowed through a mouthful of hair grips as I attempted to put my hair up.
"No drama today, eh?”
"I'll try not, any tea in the pot?”
Yeah, today feels like a tea sort of day.
"Well you look happier this morning,” Con noted as we waited for her Dad to drive us up to Altenahr. "I take it things on the Max front are back to normal?”
"Might be.”
"Might be?”
"Well okay, they are, we got things sorted out."
"Thank the heavens, another day with you bitching about everything is not on my to do list.”
"Yeah, about that, look I'm sorry, Con.”
"Best apologise to Kristen, you really had a go at her, she was quite upset after you left."
"Really,” I winced.
"Really. If it was anyone else I'd say they were on but you’re on the pill.”
"Erm, I'm due a cycle so not this month,” I advised.
"No wonder you’ve been a moody cow.”
"Sorry.”
"Come here, you daft bint,” my BF pulled me into a hug, I could get used to all this hugging stuff.
"One more,” Hen stated as he added yet another box to those already stacked in our store room.
"So they get a bag in exchange for their token?” Con confirmed.
She had to wait for an answer as Hen was dragging the last box out of his car’s boot.
"Er yeah, one bag per rider.”
"So they’ll be getting back from, what half ten?” I suggested.
"There might be a few a bit earlier, I'll get the guys at the feed to give you a bell when the first riders get there. Anything else? The beer and water’ll be dropped off in the morning”
"Okay, Eva’s bringing the crepe stall up tonight so we should be all set and ready for you,” I advised, "We’ll be ready for coffee from seven.”
"Thanks for doing this, girls, you pretty much saved the event.”
"Just putting something back in.”
"Well it’s much appreciated, look I'll have to get on, I'm supposed to be picking Uwe up to do the signing in ten minutes.”
"We’ll see you in the morning,” I supplied.
"Tschuss!”
"Bye.”
"I can’t believe I agreed to be here before seven,” Con groaned.
"I told you, me and Nen can cope first thing and my Dad‘ll be here.”
"You’re not getting me like that, Gaby Bond.”
"What?”
“Dad’s doing a double order for us,” she went on.
"Hope we get rid then.”
"Can always feed the pigeons.”
"So I was wondering,” I started as I force fed Max another Frite, "Could you like come and give us a hand tomorrow?”
"Give over,” he managed before swallowing the potato already in his mouth, “doing what?”
"This and that.”
"You don’t want me in Kostüm?”
"Now there’s an idea,” I grinned, "Nah, although you’ve given me an idea.”
"You and your ideas,” he mentioned as he dipped his würst into the mustard on his plate.
"So?”
"Tomorrow, guess so, what time?”
"We’ll be here from about seven, there’ll be free crepes,” I promised.
"You don’t have to sell it, I said yes.”
"Cool!” I bounced up and kissed him on the nose.
"What do you think?”
"It’s not a teensy bit over the top?” Con opined.
"They did it at that event I rode over near Berlin.”
"Wasn’t that some huge thing though, I remember you said there were like thousands riding.”
"So? Well I'm gonna wear mine.”
"Just you and me?”
“Uh huh, we’ll hand out the goody bags, make it a bit special.”
"Go on then.”
It’s not ‘my’ event, I'm not riding it but I'm getting a bit giddy over it.
Strangely I enjoyed Garde more than usual, despite the very regimented actions and moves it was somehow quite relaxing, I guess it took my mind off all the rushing about and preparation for the RTF. Sometimes it’s just doing a different activity that lets you switch off from the intensity of something, whatever it is I felt better for it.
It was of course silly o’clock when I got up Saturday morning, I wouldn’t be up at this time if I was taking part in the Ahrtal Eifel RTF! Somehow Dad had got involved with offering pre ride bike checks so as he was taking the camper up I dressed in my denim Capri's and a t shirt, I'll get changed later. As it happens Con had decided on a similar programme, we picked Nena up on the way and found Max sat on his mofa when we arrived.
Dad commandeered Max for ezy up assembly and assistant mechanic, the kiosk doesn’t take too long to get up and running so with the arrival of Kristen we soon had tables out, umbrellas up and the coffee machine primed. Hen and the registration team were over by the Bahnhof and the first riders were already collecting numbers and route maps. I took a guess and made half a dozen takeaway coffees, loaded a tray and headed over.
"Morning, guys, thought you’d like some coffee.”
"Cheers, Gaby,” Hen allowed, "People, this is Gaby Bond from the kiosk.”
"Heya.”
"Morning!”
"Not the Gaby Bond?” a youngish woman enquired.
"Possibly,” I allowed, "I'm certainly this one.”
"Sorry Gaby, yes, Sabine this is that Gaby Bond,” Hen put in.
"Oh my god,” Sabine allowed, "Can I get an autograph?”
"Er sure,” I agreed, my mind running silly again, "Pop over to the kiosk later, don’t want to lose it, eh?”
"Good point,” Hen suggested.
"Well I'd best get back, if you want more coffee just send someone over.”
Hen joined me as I started back.
"Everything okay?” I asked.
"Organiser’s nerves.”
"Well I think we’ve got this end sorted for you.”
"Alright, Hen?” Dad asked when we got to the Hymer.
"You kidding, between you guys you’ve turned an impending disaster into something pretty classy.”
"Well it’d be pretty poor of us to not get involved,” Dad suggested.
"I'd best get back, I'll see you later, yeah?”
"We’ll be here.”
Hen hurried off back to registration.
"Am I okay to keep my son in law here?” Dad queried.
“Da-ad!”
"Well after last night I thought you were ready to beat your sister to the altar.”
"As if!”
"In that case I'll keep him over here out of temptation’s way.”
A few early arrivals drifted over for coffee, the Foch's arrived and started preparing the crepery for action, the water and beer arrived from the Trinktmarkt and the sun broke through the morning mists. By seven thirty riders were already staking their places in the starting pen – crowd barriers currently decorated with sponsors’ banners behind an inflatable start / finish arch. As start time approached a couple of Polizei cars arrived to marshal the start and at five to eight through traffic was stopped.
Dad fetched me over to where Hen was checking his megaphone.
"What’s going on?”
"Hen thought you should start the event.”
“Ut uh,” I supplied and made to depart.
However Dad’s bigger than me and Hen was already addressing the assembled peloton.
“… okay, we’ve got a special guest to start us today, a big cheer guys and gals for one of today's sponsors and current junior World Champion, the Ahrtal’s very own Gaby Bond!”
I was a bit taken aback when there was quite a cheer from the waiting assemblage.
What to say? What do they usually do at races? Hmm, "Good morning everyone, Hen surprised me with this just now so there’s no speech,” as you might expect that raised a few chuckles. "The weather is looking good for you, I hope you all have an enjoyable ride today and don’t forget to come for a coffee afterwards. That’s the shameless plug in, so we’d best get you started.”
Hen was watching the station clock then started the countdown.
“Five, four, three, two, one, go!”
Hen made a long blast on his air horn and the three hundred or so sportive-ists started streaming past and out onto the road.
Maddy Bell © 13.05.17
We stood and watched as the stream of riders set off, old, young, men, a few women and almost exclusively on some sort of road bike.
"Bet some of those bikes cost more than your race bikes,” Dad suggested as an old chap teetered past on a pristine all Campag Colnago.
"Yeah,” I agreed, reminded as I was of some of the bikes that turned up at the Cuckney ten’s. I was probably as bad, I used to spend my winnings on the latest bits, new bar tape, a fancy saddle. Oh don’t think I paid for all my bikes, the Bank of Mum and Dad financed most of my kit, but I used to clean and polish that old bike after every ride, it really was my pride and joy.
Now of course I get to ride team bikes, they aren’t actually mine, I haven’t got the same investment in them, Dad cleans and maintains them, they regularly get new bar tape in ‘regulation’ sky blue – well you get the idea. But these guys setting off for their ride around the Eifel, riding and their bikes are as much their lives as professional racers. Wives, girlfriends, children and pets were cheering their own ‘heroes’ away, they might not be riding themselves but this is part of their lives too.
Which for ‘Connie’s Kiosk’ was an added bonus, by the time I'd made my way back there was already a bit of a queue of supporters in need of coffee, cola and even at this hour, cake. I wish we’d thought about this earlier, Eva’s sold a few crêpes, I bet we could’ve sold some Fruhstück sandwiches – next time.
"You girls okay?” Dad asked some twenty minutes after the last riders departed our tiny corner of Germany.
"Yeah I reckon so,” I allowed pausing from table wiping.
"Well in that case I'll get off, you got anything you need in the bus?”
"Going? I thought you were staying?”
"I was hoping to give the bus a clean up.”
"Oh,” I sagged some, “couldn’t it wait?”
"I found a pair of your knickers in the bedroom yesterday, well I presume they were yours.”
"Erm, possibly?” I allowed, "What if Max gave you a hand later?”
"What are you planning Gabrielle Bond? And don’t you think you should ask Max before volunteering his services?”
"Ask me what?” von Strechau junior enquired joining us.
"My daughter is volunteering you for cleaning the camper later.”
"Hmm,” my beau thought a moment, “reckon that’d be worth at least a roast dinner Herr Bond.”
"At least,” Dad agreed, "It is a big camper.”
"I can’t believe you traded cooking Sunday lunch just so we could change in here.” Con chuckled.
"They cornered me.”
"We could’ve changed in the kiosk.”
"You’ve got to be kidding,” I shot back.
"You do it when you come on your race bike,” she pointed out.
"That's different,” even in my muddled head I could see I was losing this argument.
So what’s all the fuss about? Well its something I've seen at several events here in Europe, they get some girls or women to wear local costumes to present the prizes. It adds a bit of colour and makes for more interesting pictures and Hen’s got a photographer covering the event – RTF riders like getting their pictures taken apparently.
So anyway, as we’ve already agreed to hand out the goody bags at the kiosk I thought we could do the Kostüm thing and give things a bit of razz. Hmm, I bet Mand’d go for this.
"Is that really necessary Spud,” Dad posited as I readjusted my blouse.
"Is what necessary?”
"Showing quite so much, er chest?”
"These little ole things?” I teased, "Its how you wear it.”
"I don’t recall you having quite so much in that department earlier.”
I had debated whether to wear the Unterbrusthalter or not, I guess vanity won out over, er propriety and anyway we do wear them at the Stube although I guess our uniform Dirndls are a bit less, um, in your face. Anyhow, I'm dressed now and I think I, we look the business.
By mid morning the fastest of the short route riders were starting to arrive and the kiosk team prepared for action. All the riders get either a crêpe or frikadel with either a bottle of water or beer, fries, coffee etc. they pay for. The Foch’s and the kiosk get paid by the event for doing this, a discount rate of course but its worth doing for the add on sales.
You wouldn’t think handing out bags could be so tiring but by lunchtime we were both suffering from sore feet and sore faces from the continuous smiling.
"You okay for a few?” I asked Con when there was a bit of a lull in returning rider traffic, "I need the lav.”
"Don’t be too long eh?”
"I'll be straight back.”
It was even just a relief to walk a bit, I headed around the back to our loo, there’s not one in the kiosk, instead we have a deluxe portaloo type thing, not brilliant but better than traipsing over to the Bahnhof all the time.
"How’s it going?” I enquired at the crêpe trailer.
"Not too bad,” Eva allowed.
"Think about half of them are back so far,” I offered.
"So what’s with the fancy dress Gab?” Christina asked.
"Thought the riders’d like a bit of local colour, the tourists at the Stube like it so I thought why not.”
"The Stube in Rech?” Eva asked.
"You know it? At the Sebenschuh vineyard?”
"Never been,” Eva admitted.
"As in Pia Sebenschuh?” Chris queried.
"Its her parents place, a couple of us wait there from time to time,” I told them.
"You wear Kostüm to serve?”
"Like I said, the touristo’s seem to like it.”
"Maybe we should try it at Der Mühle.”
"I am so not wearing that stuff,” Chris stated.
"Gaby and her friend look so nice,” Eva proffered.
"See what you’ve started now Gab.”
"I'll er just go to the lav,” I mouthed slipping away.
It was nearly half two when Hen appeared.
"The last few are on their way in.”
"That's not bad,” I suggested.
He shrugged, "Its not a race, we had a couple last year finish close on four.”
"Bummer,” Con opined.
"So how have things been at this end? Like the dresses by the way.”
"I've never posed for so many pictures,” Con told him.
"Think its gone quite well, you want a drink?”
"A coffee would go down a treat thanks Gaby.”
"I'll get it Hen,” Con offered – any chance to escape the carrier bags.
"Nearly forgot,” Hen started, "We all meet in The Anker later, few drinks, Freddy’s putting some food on for us, unwind after the event like, you’re all invited.”
"Er thanks, not sure what people are doing but I'll let them know.”
"Your Dad not around?”
"He’s taken the bus and my boyfriend,” I'm getting used to saying that, “up to the car wash.”
Con returned with Hen’s coffee, "Here you go.”
"Thanks, I'd best check what my crew are up to, if I don’t see you before I'll catch you later.”
"Later?” she enquired after Hen had departed.
"Hen’s invited us all to the post event bun fight over in The Anker.”
"Bun fight?”
"You know, food and drink? Its a cycling tradition.”
"What? Everyone?”
"Not all together, we usually stop along the road somewhere.”
“’Kay,” Con allowed.
A rumble from below my dirndl hinted at a growing need to eat.
"Not sure I can wait to eat.”
"You had that Nutella® crêpe earlier.”
"Half,” I pointed out, "Max nicked the rest when we had the busy bit.”
"You and your stomach.”
With Nena, Kristen and for some of the time Max we’d mostly kept things under control around the kiosk. However it still took us until after four to get the place cleaned up, litter picked, crockery washed, tables and chairs locked up. Eva needed to get back to Ahrweiler to prepare for Saturday night at Der Mühle so once Con and I had changed and the kiosk was shut up the remaining six of us walked across the bridge to The Anker.
"Before you all start disappearing,” Hen called over the hubbub on the Anker’s terrace. We aren’t a huge group, thirty tops, things quieted down surprisingly quickly, "Firstly I'd like to thank you all for your time and efforts today, I know I had to do a bit of arm twisting with one or two of you, I and I'm sure the riders really do appreciate it, I think you’ll all agree its been a good day, the weather held for us and we’ve had no problems out on the roads.”
He paused before going on, "Some of you will be aware that it nearly didn’t happen this year, some long term supporters withdrew at fairly short notice, by chance I stopped across the river here for coffee after a training ride. The rest as they say is history, young Gaby over there,” he waved in my general direction, "Offered to help and not only did the girls act as event HQ but she got the crepe trailer to come along and her father offered to come along to do pre ride bike checks. Dave, girls, we couldn’t’ve done it without you.”
Embarrassingly the Wielersport people cheered and clapped.
"Lastly, thanks for the spread Freddy, mine’s a Weisbier!”
That gained some ribald comments before conversation returned to the general chatter that preceded Hen’s short speech.
Its always a bit awkward when you aren’t really part of the main group but after some initial awkwardness helped in part by Sabine actually being Kristen’s cousin or something, Max knowing someone else in the Wielersport – well by the time things really started to break up we were all getting along like the proverbial house on fire.
"Thanks again everyone,” Hen mentioned as the bulk of us got ready to depart.
"I think everyone’s enjoyed it,” Dad suggested.
"You guys really did make the difference, I spoke to a few of the riders, they’re already making plans to ride next year.”
"Apollinaris are keen to be involved Hen, they don’t want to take over but a bit of support with printing and stuff, few banners and so on,” Dad hinted.
"I'll make sure you’re on the list when we start planning in the autumn. Well I'll let you get on, enjoy what’s left of the day, I think some of my lot’ll be here for the duration.”
Outside Kris headed off through the town towards Chez Jägger while the rest of us headed back over to where the camper was parked.
"Four o’clock,” Max confirmed.
"If you want to eat,” I advised.
"See you tomorrow, tschuss!”
"Night,” I allowed as he headed for the mofa.
"I'll say this Gaby Bond, when you decide on something you go full steam,” Nena stated.
"Oh yeah, its gone from the ice maiden to lovesick puppy,” Con added.
"And there I was, just about to invite you to dinner too,” I mock huffed.
"Don’t listen to her girls,” Dad interrupted, "You’re both invited, Kris too if she wants to come.”
"Hey! who’s cooking this dinner?”
"You are!” the three of them chorused.
“Just checking,” I piously stated.
Maddy Bell © 15.05.17
"Gabs?”
I couldn’t quite place the voice so answered cautiously, "Yes, it is she, who is this?”
"It’s Mart.”
Dur, course it is, "Soz, its been a long day, been at the Radtourfahrten all day.”
"Ah so that’s why there were bikes everywhere.”
"That’ll be it, so what’s up?”
"You know Bern’s coming tomorrow?”
"I'm pretty sure she’s mentioned it.”
"Well mum wondered if you’d like to come to pick her up with us.”
"From the airport?”
"Airport? No they’re coming by bus, its cheaper and less hassle with Drea, we’re picking them up from Kӧln.”
Well I'm not racing so I'm about, "What time we talking?”
"They’re supposed to get in about nine.”
"In the morning?”
"That’s okay, I've got half the valley coming for dinner tomorrow afternoon so as long as I'm back by about one I'm in.”
"Cool, pick you up half seven?”
Urgh, another early start, I might get a lie in one of these days.
"Yeah sure.”
"See you in the morning then, Abend,”
"Yeah, tschuss.”
"Everything okay Spud?”
"I guess, Mart just rang, I'm going up to Kӧln with him in the morning to meet Bernie.”
"I thought you were going for a ride?”
"Sugar, I knew there was something I forgot, I'll ring back and say I can’t go.”
"You’ll do no such thing,” Dad stated, "It won’t hurt you to miss one days riding.”
Yes! I mentally pumped my arm in victory – not an actual victory but you know what I mean.
"So what time are you out? Do you need me to do anything for dinner?”
"They’re picking me up at seven thirty, you could do the taters,” I hinted.
"Okay, do we need the dining table out?”
"The lovebirds coming?”
"I take it you mean your sister, she said so.”
"Might be a good idea then, it’ll be a squeeze getting eight round it closed.”
"Okay, you wanting to watch this?”
"Yeah, likely,” I snorted, you’ve seen German TV right? in case you haven’t, its pretty dire and Saturday night’s are the worst even if de Vreen does like it, terrible game shows and poorly dubbed American cop shows. "Think I'll get an early night.”
Beep, beep!
"That’s me,” I told Dad before leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.
"See you later kiddo.”
I grabbed my bag and skipped down to where Mart and his mum were waiting in their ageing people carrier.
"Morning!”
"Hi Gaby,” Erika Preiser offered.
I clambered up into the cabin and turned to slide the door shut.
"You got enough space there?”
"Er think so,” I allowed perching myself next to the baby seat taking up half the middle row of seats. It took a moment to locate my seat belt by which time Erika had us in motion.
"There’s a good girl,” Bern told the bundle snoozing in the sling on her mothers chest.
Outside of the window it was lashing down across the Belgian, or is German now, countryside, a grey dawn to a forecast grey day. The woman sitting next to her shuffled in her seat, yeah maybe not the most comfortable journey but it had cost less than half the airfare without all that caper with airports. Bern pulled her cushion up so she could lean against the window without being vibrated to bits.
‘I hope there’s toilets at the coach station, Drea’ll need changing too – and feeding.' Bern mused as she watched the barely changing scenery outside.
Traffic had been light pretty much since leaving Calais – well when she’d been awake at any rate. Drea had fussed a bit when they’d stopped at Lille, then again at Brussels where the current occupant of the aisle seat replaced the eight year old girl who’d been there since London. It was a long stop there, over an hour as coaches arrived from and departed to destinations across Europe.
The baby had finally settled into a deeper sleep as they’d departed the city and apart from a few minutes when the coach stopped at Liege she’d been asleep until a couple of minutes ago. A change in engine tune suggested they were slowing down for some reason, they swung around a junction then moments later stopped at some traffic lights. They turned right into some woodland, two more sets of lights later and she recognised where they were, Kӧln river front.
Drea smacked her lips, it wouldn’t be long before she was demanding food, Bern looked at the coach’s clock, seven fifty three, they weren’t due until nine. At eight o'clock on a Sunday morning the traffic was light and the remaining distance into the centre took barely five minutes, through a tunnel and left at the lights. Suddenly the whole bus came alive just as if an alarm had sounded.
“Kӧln, Cologne, KeлъН!”
By the time they’d swung into the bus station half the coach were stood, dragging jackets and bags from the luggage racks. She waited until the press of humanity eased off before sliding out herself, gathering her belongings and following the other passengers off the bus. The driver was pulling bags out of the lockers on one side, his mate the other, she spotted her case already on the platform but where’s the pram?
"Er excuse me?”
The driver was either purposely ignoring her or hadn’t heard.
She searched her memory for the German, "Enschuldigen mir, haben sie mein Kinderwagen bitte?”
"Moment,” the driver chap replied in a somewhat short manner.
"English?” a tall chap in tan slacks and a black leather jacket asked.
"Er yes,” Bern allowed, wary of his interest.
"Thought so, you are after your case?”
"The pram, he doesn’t seem very interested.”
"Just a moment,” he poked his head into the locker and started complaining in some foreign language she didn’t recognise. There was a bit of back and forth but then Drea’s pram appeared and the stranger was putting it up.
"Er thanks.”
"No problem, you just need to know how to handle these Hungarians.”
"No wonder my German didn’t work.”
"Hmm,” he allowed as the pram locked into its upright position, “there we go, your German, it is maybe not so easy to understand. You are on the holiday?”
Bern was feeling a bit fearful and isolated, "Visiting my fiancé, he should be here anytime.”
"Well enjoy your visit.” and with that she was alone with a case, pram and daughter collecting damp in an almost deserted Kӧln bus station.
She pushed the pram with its load of their suitcase into the railway station, suddenly she recognised things, she’d been here with Gab last year, now where are the lavs?
"Bitte?”
"Er Mc Muffin® Sosidge unt Eir.”
“Pommes Frites?”
"Er ja, mittel.”
"Getranke?”
"Um Café bitte.”
"Vier fünfzig.”
Bern passed over a ten euro note, she’d check how much it actually was later. Her breakfast arrived in short order, she claimed a table by the window and sagged into the seat – so far so good. Drea of course chose that moment to fully wake and start fretting for her own breakfast.
At least Maccy D’s have microwaves for heating baby food, or in Bern’s case the last bottle of expressed milk she’d brought. She might have been breastfeeding for almost a year but even so she wasn’t comfortable doing so in public. Of course the baby lost interest halfway through her milk allowing her mother to eat the now stone cold chips and breakfast burger – at least the coffee was still scalding hot.
Erika seemed to know where she was going when we reached Kӧln, as I usually come by train I was lost almost as soon as we left the waterfront.
"I'll wait here,” Frau Preiser told us once we were parked.
"Okay mum,” Mart agreed, "We’re a bit early so we’ll be like half an hour.”
I climbed down and straightened myself out a bit, somehow these pink Capri’s always ride up.
"You alright Mart?” I queried as we made our way out of the car park.
"Sure, course I am, why wouldn’t I be?”
"Meeting your ‘family’ again Daddy,” I joshed.
"To be honest Gab, I'm not sure what I feel, all this stuff with the baby in England, its just all a bit you know,” he shrugged.
"Weird?” I suggested.
"Yeah,” he allowed as we emerged onto the street below the Gallery and Museum on Roncalliplatz.
"How do you think Bern feels,” I posed as we strolled across towards the Dom.
"Dunno,” he admitted.
"I bet she’s feeling pretty much the same, she’s committing pretty much everything on you and her, well you know.”
"I know but I can’t help feeling I've been manoeuvred.”
I grabbed his hands, "Mart, she loves you, not like me and Max, that's just lust.”
"I thought you and Max weren’t?”
"Well we sort of are,” I told him, "But its not the same as you and Bern.”
"Do I want to know?”
"You’ll find out in time, come on, lets find your girls,” I grinned dragging him down the steps towards the Hauptbahnhof.
There were quite a few people about in the station I hung onto his arm so we didn’t get separated when we were engulfed by a crowd of Girl Guides and their camping gear.
"That looks like it,” I suggested as we crossed over towards the bus station, a coach with ‘Eurolines’ across the windscreen being stood on a stand.
‘They look happy,’ Bern mused as she watched the passing travellers. The pair in question, a tall blonde lad and a petite girl with a thing for pink, well she was wearing pink trousers and her hair was a slightly paler shade, were joking about and clearly comfortable with each other, she gripping his arm firmly as they crossed towards the coach station.
"Daddy’ll be here soon pumpkin,” she told the now sleeping contents of the pram, "Come on Mart, where are you?”
It was indeed the London coach now loading for its onward journey to Frankfurt, of Bern there was no sign.
"I'll ask the driver,” Mart proposed.
“’Kay.”
He headed over to who I guessed was part of the crew and started a conversation. There was a bit of gesticulating and shrugging then Mart came back to where I waited.
"They got here at eight o’clock.”
"Eight? That's nearly an hour ago, does he know where Bern is?”
"Nada, he thinks they went into the Bahnhof.”
"Guess that makes sense, I bet she hasn’t got her phone either, come on, lets see if we can find her, she must be there somewhere.”
We headed back to the railway station.
‘She looks a bit like Gab,” Bern mused as the couple headed back towards her, the lad was looking down at his girlfriend, ‘well if you discount the pink hair and it looks like something glittering in her nose – its a wonder Gab even wears anything other than cargo shorts.’ The girl skipped towards her dragging the youth forward.
Marty and Gabs, together. Bern’s heart sank, she’d got the vibe from Mart there was something up, she’d never have guessed that something was her best friend, a best friend she hardly recognised.
Maddy Bell © 17.05.17
"So where first?” Mart asked as they entered the concourse.
"I'll go up this side, you go around the far end, meet by the main entrance?”
"Kay,” he agreed before diving through the crowds towards the toilets and waiting rooms.
Pity Bern’s phone doesn’t work here properly, oh well. I glanced into Mc D's, almost empty, then set off to check out any other likely waiting spots.
Bern watched the girl –she looked like Gab, sort of, anyhow she peered into the food outlet but she hadn’t spotted the Rose’s now close by the door. What now though? She wasn’t exactly flush, the suitcase was mostly full of baby stuff, nappies, food, clothes so Drea was okay for now but she’d have to get a room at least for tonight.
She checked on her daughter then manoeuvred pram and case out into the busy walkway. The pink haired girl disappeared into a shop further up the slope, right lets do this girl. Except pushing a pram and pulling a case at the same time does not make for rapid movement.
"Bern, there you are, we’ve been looking for you,” I exclaimed almost walking into her as I left the paper shop.
"Gab?”
"Dur!”
"What happened to your hair?”
"Hair?” I pulled my loose braid forward to look at it.
"Its pink? And could we do English?”
"Oh that, thought I'd told you, we need to find Mart now, we got to the coach and the driver said you’d left so we split up to look for you.”
"We got in early.”
"Here, let me have the case,” I flipped my bag open and found my Handy, quickly hitting Mart’s speed dial.
"Mart, Gab... yeah found her... by the front doors… two minutes.”
"So er how are you and Mart getting on?”
"Same ole, what with work and stuff we don’t talk very often, he surprised me last night suggesting I came up this morning.”
"He did?”
"Yeah, what’ve you got in here, it weighs a ton?”
"Er Drea’s stuff mostly.”
We arrived at the front of the station first and I went round to peer at the child I helped into the world.
"Has she grown?”
"I hope so,” Bern advised.
"Well I don’t know do I, I've not seen her for like months.”
"Bern!”
Marty ran over and literally swung Bern off her feet – no small feat, she’s not exactly frail.
"So where were you?” I queried following along with Bern as Mart proudly steered ‘his’ daughter through the already fairly populous tourists.
"I got a drink and stuff in Maccy D’s.”
"I looked in there.”
"Must’ve just missed us when I went to the ladies.”
"Surprised Mart didn’t see you, he went looking that way.”
"Well you found me eventually eh?”
"Yeah,” I agreed, hmm there’s something I'm missing here, she’s been a bit weird with Mart too.
Erika must’ve seen us as she had the boot open when we reached the car.
"Bernie!” Erika gave her a hug, "Good trip? the baby was okay?”
“Frau Preiser, thanks for having us again, er the coach was okay, the baby she sleep.”
Clearly Bern needs to brush up her German.
"Well lets get you all loaded, Martin, case and Kinderwagen.”
"Yes Mum.”
"Here, I'll take Drea,” I offered, "Get in Bern and I'll pass her up.”
"So you guys got anything planned the rest of the day?”
"Have we?” Bern asked her boyfriend.
It was like pass the parcel as Mart went on to make the same query of his mother.
"Dunno, hang out?” Mart suggested.
"You fancy dinner at ours,” I offered, "Half the Ahrtal are coming already, extras aren’t a problem.”
"Dad!” I called out, “Jules!”
"Lounge.”
"Visitors!” I called back, ”come on in guys, the pram’ll be alright there.”
Rather than have anyone back and forth taxiing babies and their parents about I suggested the ‘young Preiser’s’ stay at Schloss Bond until this evening. That seemed to work for everyone, Erika gets a last baby free day, I can catch up with Bern and Dad can brush up his Grand-parenting skills.
"Who is it?” Jules queried coming through, "Bernie!”
"And a baby,” I added, Mart proffered someone in need of either food or a clean botty or maybe both.
"Max,” I whispered into my Handy having hidden in the downstairs loo.
"Wassup?”
"You fancy coming down a bit earlier, I've got Mart here and he’s looking a bit uncomfortable, even Dad’s gone baby daft.”
"Baby?”
"Drea? Bernie’s here.”
"Thought she was staying at the farm?”
"She, they are, they’re here for dinner.”
"Right, guess I can come in a few, er what meat we having?”
"Meat? Sugar, I forgot to get it out of the freezer!”
"Whoa, calm down Gabs, its not twelve yet.”
"But its got to defrost, it takes hours,”
"What’re we having?”
"Er lamb?”
"Right I'll bring a white, get the meat out, it doesn’t need to be in the oven for at least two hours, if need be we can micro it for a bit.”
"We can?”
"Trust me, its an old chefs technique, run it under the hot tap for a bit then leave it in a bowl of hot water to thaw out.”
"Right, see you in a bit, oh,” I made kissy noises into my phone, "Laters.”
I gently bounced my sort of niece on my knee.
"Coochy coo, coochy coo, whose a pretty girl then?”
"That’ll be her aunt,” Bern opined.
"Ger off with ya,”
"Its either that or the c word.”
"Okay, I give in, you feeling better,” I queried as the baby chuckled.
Dad pretty much insisted she go lie down for an hour, its not like there weren’t plenty of ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles’ to keep watch of Drea.
"So, you and Max?”
“Just friends,”
"Don’t listen to her Bernie,” Con stated coming in behind me, “friends with benefits maybe.”
"Now this I must hear,” Bern suggested.
"Con,” I moaned.
"Kris and Nena are just coming but I need a wee, be right back.”
"But you only live two minutes away,” I mentioned.
"Yeah?” she allowed closing the toilet door behind her.
"Same old Connie,” Bern noted.
"I swear she’s getting worse.”
"Who’s Kris? Nen’s boyfriend?”
"Oh you don’t know her, she does cheer and works for us at the kiosk.”
"I can’t believe you guys have your own business.”
"Kinda, its really her parent’s,” I admitted.
"But you two run it.”
"Yeah.”
"Bernie!” Nena exclaimed, "I didn’t know you’d be here.”
"Sort of a last minute change of plans,” Bern advised as they exchanged hugs.”
"Come in Kris, you don’t need to stand on ceremony.”
"Er right.”
"The red head is Bernie, Marty Preiser’s girlfriend and this,” I hoisted the still chuckling infant upwards, "Is their daughter Drea.”
Bern gave me a look which I ignored.
"Er hi,” Kris mentioned.
"Bern, meet Kris.”
Okay I'm not brilliant at the social niceties but I get the job done right?
"Max? Give me a hand,” I hinted from the lounge doorway.
"Duty calls,” he grinned passing Drea back to her Dad – Mum and the girls having escaped to the patio where we’re eating if I ever get it cooked.
"So its a duty is it?” I queried pulling his head down for a quick smooch.
"Hmm,” he managed as I pushed him against the table.
"You need any help Gab?” Jules started, "I guess not sis.”
I quickly put Max’s face down, "Er I think we’re okay.”
"You might be, what about dinner?”
"Sugar, the Yorkshires!”
"There’s something different about you Gabrielle Bond,” Bern opined as we waited for Erika to come collect the pocket Preiser family.
"The hair?”
"Hair withstanding, there’s something else, you’re more, I dunno, girly.”
"Girly?”
"Old Gaby wouldn’t be rockin’ that outfit and more importantly wouldn’t have spent dinner eyeing up Maximilian von Strechau, he wouldn’t’ve had a look in in front of the food, nope, I'm afraid you’ve got a terminal case of lovestruck.”
"Get on with you! How do you make that out?”
"Mothers intuition.”
"Drea’s not even one yet,” I pointed out.
"End of the week, and stop ducking things. You and Max are doing it.”
"We are not, that is just so gross, there is no way that's ever happening.
"Second base it is then,” she knowingly grinned.
"He’s a good kisser,” I allowed.
"And good with his hands?”
"Maybe,” I coyly allowed.
"Lets find mummy and auntie Gaby,” Mart cooed to the babe in his arms.
"She must be ready for bed,” Bern posited.
"Mum’s just arrived,” Mart advised, "I'll take the baby if you can bring the pram.”
"Nite Drea, see you again soon,” I offered chucking the babe under the chin before bestowing a kiss, "See you later Mart.”
"Later Gab.”
"This morning Gab,” Bernie started, "I saw you and Mart at the bus station, I thought, well you looked like a proper couple, I er thought you two were… when I realised it was you I hid, when you found me I was actually trying to hide from you guys, I was gonna go back home.”
"You thought me and Mart?”
“Uh huh, I'm insecure I guess, what does he see in me?”
"He sees a lovely young woman who’s survived some nasty stuff whose biggest concern in life is ensuring her daughter gets to have a good life, me and Max, pure lust, you and Mart, as far as I can see that's love.”
"I'd best go, they’ll be waiting.”
"It’ll work out Bern, he’s a good man.”
"And you’re a good friend Auntie Gaby,” Bern told me pulling me into hug.
Maddy Bell © 19.05.17
I stared at the moon through my skylight. Some day huh? Fetching the female component of the ‘Kleines Familie Preiser’, Sunday lunch and then there was Bern’s departing confession. Am I really that girly? Nah, not me, the way she was talking you’d think I'm all Barbie and unicorns – mind you there was a nice one in Puppenkönig the other week – just kidding!
Seriously though, am I really ‘girly’? Okay I'll admit to occasionally wearing a dress and skirts, well shorter ones at least, are cooler to wear than shorts or jeans. I don’t spend all day in front of the mirror playing with make-up, reading fashion magazines or swooning over boy bands. Nope, I'm more likely to be reading Radsport and listening to Dad’s old rock albums.
Do people really see me as girly? – okay I'll admit my current hair colour doesn’t exactly lend gravitas to my appearance but seeing as I have the full compliment of X’s I'm kind of glad I look like a girl. No scrub that, I am a girl so I don’t look like a girl, oh you know what I mean, I can live with being ‘pretty’. Anyhow, the pink is growing out a bit now, by Christmas I'll probably be back to normal!
"Kinda makes you a bit clucky,” Con suggested – she’s not actually working today but her dad forgot our pies so she brought them up,
"Eh?” I allowed as I concentrated on cleaning and filling the coffee machine.
"Bernie and the baby.”
"Lost me, sugar!” I wiped at the milk now decorating my Capri’s.
"Here,” she handed me a cloth before continuing, "You know, they’re so cute.”
"Bern? Cute?” she may be many things, cute isn’t one of them.
"Drea dummy, makes you want your own.”
"Oh yeah, just what I need in my life, pass us that milk, no sleep, dirty nappies, no life.”
"How’s that different to you and your bikes?”
"You mean apart from I get to sleep, do stuff and no nappies? Well for one I've got some choice in the matter,” I supplied closing the machine’s door.
"Iv'e seen you get all squidgy when you see them, you were just as in to as the rest of us yesterday.”
“Nen,” I called out to the garden.
"Wassup?” our assistant asked coming over to the kiosk from her table clearing duties.
"Do you want a baby?”
"Of course, when the time’s right, who wouldn’t?”
"But you wouldn’t, you know, have one because babies are cute would you?”
"Course not, you’re not expecting are you?”
"As if, it’d have to be a virgin birth!”
"She says,” Con scoffed.
"Talking of which, that sounds like a mofa,” Nena suggested.
"Hey!”
Indeed the subject of my lust arrived in short order.
"You’re early,” I mentioned.
"Couldn’t wait to see you any longer.”
Nen made gagging noises.
"I'm gonna get off, shopping to do, television to watch,” Con told us.
"Such a glamorous life,” I proffered.
"See you guys later.”
"Bye,” Max offered.
"Yeah, thanks for the pies Con,” I added.
"Tschuss!”
Con skipped off towards the Bahnhof to get the Express back down the valley.
"Pie?” I queried.
"You’ll turn me English,” he grinned.
"You don’t have to come for lunch,” I proposed.
"Who said I was coming for food?”
"Really Strechau,” Nen moaned.
"So what’s in today’s pies?”
"Er curried chicken I think.”
"Sounds interesting, go on then.”
With only the two of us, that’s me and Nena, working today I couldn’t join Max outside for lunch so he propped up the counter instead. The downside of course is that the exchange of sweet nothings was er, inappropriate so our conversation was a little thin on content. Max was just about ready to depart when I remembered something that Jules offered last night.
"Remember the band, at the Goldene Rose?”
"Yeah, BlauHaus or something, how could I forget that night?”
How indeed, not an evening I want to repeat, cheap beer, terrible food and Ralph with his ‘date rape’ drugs, yeah I want no repeat of that but the music wasn’t bad.
"BlauHase,” I corrected, "They’re playing in Bonn next Friday? Jules asked if we wanted to go.”
"Bonn? how’d we get back?”
"She said we could crash at Boris’, come back Saturday morning?”
"What’s your dad have to say about that?”
I shrugged, "He likes Boris, he’s sort of okay as long as we have them as chaperones.”
"I'll need to check with my rents, they weren’t best bit pleased last time.”
“’Kay,” I sagged a bit, I really do fancy going.
"I'm sure it’ll be okay liebchen, come here.”
I leant out exchange a chaste lip lock.
"Get a room guys,” Nen complained.
"Talk later,” Max supplied after we broke apart.
"Yeah,” I agreed.
"So you guys going on another date?” Nen queried.
"Might be.”
"Thought your dad grounded you last time?”
"Sort of, but he seems to have come round a bit since we sort became official.”
"Who’d a thunk shy little Gaby Bond would snag herself the most eligible lad in the valley,” she teased.
"Give over Nen, we’re just friends.”
“’Official’ friends though.”
"Okay already.”
"I suppose I'm running the taxi tonight,” Dad suggested when I gave him his tea, well sandwich.
"It is Monday,” I pointed out.
"Oh, Bernie called when you were changing, can you give her a bell?”
"Okay.”
"Everything okay?”
"Er yeah,” I allowed, "I asked Max about Friday, he’s checking with his parents.”
"Look kiddo, I don’t mean to be an ogre but after last time...”
"It wasn’t Max’s fault.” I interrupted.
"I know Spud, but you’re precious to me and your Mum, we worry about you and your sister.”
"I know but its sort of embarrassing having a chaperone.”
"I don’t suppose your sister’s too mad on the idea but it was her idea.”
"It was?”
Maybe Goth Gurl isn’t so bad a sister.
“Just a reminder girls,” Hannah started as the girls put the mats away, "We’re at Adenau in a fortnight, if anyone can’t make it let me or Gab know toot sweet.”
"Is it a competition?” Lisse asked coming over to where Han and I were stood.
"Afraid not,” Han advised, “just a couple of routines to entertain the crowds.”
"I might have a problem,” Pia mentioned, "Garde?”
"Shouldn’t be a problem, Mandy should be back right Gab?”
"Should.”
Indeed there’s a thing, I think she’s coming with Caro this week but I've not heard anything from her since Yorkshire, she might’ve changed her mind again. I really should give her a call, I've not exactly been a great friend have I, on the other hand pre Ryedale she was acting a bit weird and catty.
"Dad?” I asked as we waited in the A Klasse for Pia to return with the pizzas – she fancies a lad in there so volunteered to fetch our supper.
"Hmm?”
"Manda is coming back?”
"As far as I know, I'm supposed to pick her and Caro up on Friday, the others are arriving by bus on Sunday.”
"Aren’t we racing Sunday?”
"Don’t worry, its all in hand. Did you ring Bernie earlier?”
"Bum, forgot.”
"You’d best ring her now,” Pater suggested.
"Yeah,” I agreed.
I got out of the car and went and sat on the wall so we can talk in some privacy.
"Preiser.”
"Er hi Herr Preiser, its Gaby Bond?”
"Oh hi Gaby, what can we do for you?”
"I think Bernie was trying to get hold of me?”
"Hang on, I think she’s in the kitchen with Erika.”
"Thanks.”
I heard him clomp off then some muffled voices.
"Gabs?”
"Heya,” I allowed, "What’s up?”
"Well nothing really, Erika took us into Adenau for coffee earlier.”
“Nice.”
"Yeah it was,” she agreed before going on in a whisper, "I think she wanted to show Drea off to her friends, I think we ended up in every shop.”
"Guess she likes the idea of being Oma.”
"You don’t think.”
"So what did you want me for?”
"You fancy coming up for tea tomorrow?”
"I guess.”
"Can you make five?”
Good question, I need to go training, hmm if I go up the ring.
"I could come straight from training? Otherwise it’d be closer to six.”
"I probably have something you can change into.”
“’Kay, five it is.”
"So what are you up to?”
"Waiting for P and our Pizza, think she’s got lost.”
"Pizza?”
"Its a sort of post cheer tradition, P comes down to ours and we veg out on double pepperoni.”
"My body’s a temple,” Bern quoted.
"Well it needs a bit of down time, ah, she’s just coming.”
"I'll let you go then, can’t stand between you and pizza, see you tomorrow then.”
"Yeah, should be there just before five, tschuss!”
"Tschuss.”
Maddy Bell © 21.05.17
"We should all get together before she goes back,” Nena opined as I sorted myself out.
"It would be good,” I agreed, "I'll float the idea to Bern, I don’t know what they’ve got planned.
"Er Gab?” Con waved something in the air, "Lost something?”
I tried to focus on what she had in her hand, "Where’d you get those?”
"You dropped them,” I was informed as she waved my clean knickers about.
"Oh come on Con, I need to get off.”
"You’re no fun Bond, what do you need them for, I know you don’t wear any when you ride.”
"I can’t have tea at the Preiser’s in smelly bike kit, Bern’s lending me something to wear but I still need undies.”
"Not sure they qualify,” Nena chortled, "I have dolls with bigger pants!”
"Huh! We got a placky bag anywhere?” I asked snatching my admittedly tiny underwear from Con’s grip.
I finally left the kiosk, spare underwear stowed in a jersey pocket and headed up the valley towards Adenau. The bad news however was drifting over from the west, grey clouds looking to deposit their contents, just hope I can get around to Staffel before then. I started humming to myself, it helps me get in the zone and it doesn’t seem to make much difference what it is, this afternoon its The Chain, pretty much guaranteed to get the tempo up.
Other than the threat from the skies, the afternoon was pretty good for riding, mid twenties, light wind and not too much traffic. I tapped along at a reasonable pace and easily reached the circuit a bit shy of four, not a lot of leeway if I go up to the GP circuit mind. Instead I took the Hohe Acht turn and started the five kilometre plus climb up the mountain.
I was probably a couple of kilometres in when the first spots of rain darkened the asphalt, the precursors to a determined cloudburst, shitza! I stopped and quickly extracted and donned my race cape. I was barely moving again before the torrent went up a notch, the drains already overflowing now spewed floods of wet across the road every few metres.
The problem with race capes is that they stop the wet getting in and out, its often not worth putting them on if its warmer. So of course I ended up unzipping my jacket to vent some of the heat, its not like I could get much wetter than soaked to the skin. I didn’t like the look of the Kaltenborn road – or the thought of dropping to Kesseling in the wet to then climb up to my destination.
Fortunately there is an alternative so I continued out to the ‘Ring road and sloshed onto the four one two. I got into a crouch and splashed along to the Cassel road, okay its not the best and there’s still some climbing but the downhill is minimal and the forest sort of offers a bit of protection over the top. From Niederheckenbach its only a couple of kilometres to the Preiser’s farm, I've never come by bike before so the lane from the village came as a bit of a surprise.
It was like riding ‘cross, the dips full of wet, the surface a bit loose for comfort in places. Once at the farmhouse I parked my bike and knocked on the door almost at the moment the rain ceased. Wunderbar.
"Geez Gab, what happened?” Mart queried as he allowed me inside.
"Rain?” I suggested.
"Its rained?” he asked peering outside at the now blue sky.
"Just a bit.”
“Mum!” he called out, "Take your stuff off here.”
"What do you...oh my,” Erika Preiser got out.
"Er hi Mrs P.”
"Up to the bathroom with you, get a shower, leave your clothes outside, we’ll sort you something to wear.”
"Thanks, sorry about your floor.”
"Pish, it’ll mop, now go before you catch your death.”
I dripped up to the bathroom and quickly divested myself of my sodden kit, so wet I rang it out before opening the door a crack and dropping it outside. It hadn’t been my intention to shower here but girl, I'm almost glad its rained, I smell pretty rank. The bathroom door opened letting a cool breeze into the shower cubicle.
"Gab,” Bern’s voice got my attention, "I've put you some dry stuff on the sink.”
"Cheers B.”
"I was going to do tea but you can have coffee if you like.”
"Tea’s fine, there any shampoo I can use?”
A hand snaked around the partition with a bottle of hair soap.
"Cheers.”
"Ten minutes?”
"Yeah, be right there.”
You might recall that Bern is, how can I put it politely, well she’s bigger than me in every measurement so anything I borrow from her is gonna be voluminous. Well the frock is probably just below the knee on its owner, on me its ankle length – just as well given I ended up going commando, Bern’s grandma pants having no chance at hanging on my slimmer hips. At least her sandals are only a little big so I made my way down to the kitchen at least semi decent.
"Tea’s just mashin’,” Bern advised.
"Cheers.”
"I've put your cycling clothes in the washer,” Erika told me.
"Thanks, sorry to be so much trouble.”
"It was going on later anyway, I'd forgotten how much washing babies generate.”
"Well thanks anyway, er did you find my wallet and Handy?”
"They’re on the dresser, bit soggy I'm afraid.”
"So erm, Mart and his dad not joining us?”
"And ruin a good gossip, the boy has taken the Kinder for a walk.”
It felt a little bit awkward, my friends mother and my friend, her almost daughter in law waiting for the tea to brew.
"So how is your kiosk?”
"Doing okay I guess, things have settled down a bit now but we’ve got some regulars.”
"That’s good, I'll have to stop some time.”
"Sure,” I agreed, "How’re the stables doing?”
"It won’t make us rich but its okay.”
"Tea’s brewed,” Bern enthused.
"I'll leave you to it then, I've got a client due in ten minutes.”
"I thought she was staying,” I allowed.
"Just us for a bit,” Bern filled in.
"Doesn’t this feel a bit strange, you know, in someone else’s house like this?”
"A bit I guess.”
"Drea okay?”
"Course, why wouldn’t she be?”
"Dunno, I guess you get fed up of people asking.”
"It does get a bit tired, its like I don’t exist, all everyone wants to talk about is Drea’s health.”
"Well I don’t.”
"So what is happening in Gaby land?”
We caught up on the stuff we couldn’t on Sunday, news from Warsop primarily.
"Nen suggested we have a girls night,” I mentioned.
"That sounds cool, I might be able to get Mart to babysit.”
"I'll ring round when I get home, see what we can set up.”
"Remember I'm stuck up here.”
"No problemo, that cake going free?”
"Some things never change Bond.”
"I'm a growing girl,” I defended as she slid the slice of chocolate torte onto my plate.
"Stefan’ll take you home Gaby,” Erika advised returning to her kitchen at that moment.
"Er sure,” I allowed.
"I'll get your clothes.”
Well I guess that’s a fairly strong hint that our time is up.
"I'll get your dress back to you,” I advised, "And I'll let you know about the other thing.”
"Okay, I'll have to get a phone for over here.”
"Yeah,” I agreed as Drea tried to grab my finger, yeah Con, babies are great as long as they’re someone else’s.
"Ready Gab?” Mart queried.
"I guess, night guys,” I allowed rescuing my finger and giving Drea a peck on her forehead.
Stefan Preiser is a friendly enough chap, he’s rescued me and my bike more than once but we rode in silence almost to Ahrbrück.
"What do you think of all this Gaby?”
"Sorry?”
“Marty, the baby, Bernie,” he supplied.
"Dunno really,” I admitted, its not really something I've given a lot of thought to, "I'm pretty sure they love each other.”
"Love? Strong word.”
"They’re different to like me and Max, they’re not all over each other, they really care about the other and Mart’s really good with Drea.”
"So you think they’ll stick together?”
"As much as anyone could say, Bern’s different when she’s with Mart.”
"So you and the von Strechau lad?”
"Lust, pure and unadulterated lust.”
We both chuckled and had a more normal conversation for the rest of the journey.
Dad raised an inquisitive eyebrow when I got to the lounge.
"Long story.”
"You break anything?”
"I've not been off, I just got drowned on the way, think the bike might need some oil.”
"And a clean I'm guessing?”
"Probably,” I allowed.
"So how’s the munchkin?”
"Still chuckling.”
"I spoke to Wilhelm earlier.”
"Oh?”
"Don’t look so worried kiddo, you can go Friday, Gloria will take you up to Boris’ place after you finish at work.”
"Er okay, you eaten?”
"Just a sandwich.”
"You fancy some Leberknödelsuppe?”
"Go on then, I'd best take a squint at the bike I suppose.”
“’bout fifteen minutes?”
My mind was determined to not shut down, I lay in the dark for a good thirty minutes not really having much connected thought but still wide awake. I say not connected but I guess it is sort of, the strongest thread being Bern and Mart’s relationship. Not for them dubious gigs in dingy venues, more like watching the telly with the parents over a cup of coffee.
Other questions interwove with that scene, will they get married, move away, have more kids, indeed, will they stay together? I eventually fell asleep dreaming of a wedding, not even sure who’s but I was a bridesmaid in a rather awful bright pink meringue, now even Bern has more taste than that – I think.
Maddy Bell © 23.05.17
"I suppose you want a lift this morning?” Dad proposed when I joined him in the kitchen.
"Er please,” well the rain outside is doing the stair rod thing, not bouncing but falling with a determined effort.
"You working this evening?”
"As far as I know,” I confirmed dropping a couple of slices into the toaster.
"Don’t you think you should ease up on some of these ‘extras’?”
I had to yawn before replying, "I enjoy doing them.”
"I wasn’t suggesting you didn’t but I don’t want to see you wearing yourself out, good rest is important whatever you’re doing.”
"Yes, Dad.”
"I mean it, Gaby, you can’t burn the candle at both ends.”
I peered out into the gloom for the umpteenth time, as you might expect for an essentially outdoor facility we’ve hardly seen a customer all morning. Well the Apollinaris dray driver stopped for his usual coffee and there were a couple of tourists who stopped for currywurst about an hour ago – not exactly busy. There’s no point in three of us sitting here all day so we sent Kris home – she has done a lot of hours the last few weeks, so anyhow it’s just me and Connie Thesing sat bored to death.
"It’s supposed to clear up later,” Con repeated once more without looking up from her Stern.
"Whatever time ‘later’ is.”
"What was that wedding you went to the other week?”
"In Stuttgart?”
"You’ve been to others?”
"Course not, Sara Taxis, why?”
"You’ve made the news again.”
"Where?”
She passed over her magazine opened at the ‘society’ pages, you know the sort of thing, celebs in restaurants, actors in Waitrose. I quickly scanned the pictures, the wedding although low key rated several shots, the wedding party, parents of the bride and for some reason a view entitled ‘Maximillian von Strechau with mystery girl’. Joy.
I read the longer paragraph on the nuptials, I know I was there but you have to read the report right? ‘...once again Maximilian von Strechau was escorted by the pretty blonde we first saw him with in München last year. (If you know who she is contact….)’.
I sighed, "Don’t they have anyone better to chase.”
"Could be good for business,” Con suggested with a smirk as she snatched the rag back, "I wonder what the reward for finding you is?”
"You wouldn’t.”
"Split it seventy thirty?”
"It’s not up for discussion,” I huffed.
"Sixty forty?”
"Con!”
"Spoilsport.”
The rain finally desisted shortly before twelve and Ahrweiler changed from a dreary place with minimal traffic to a bustling metropolis as people emerged to fetch shopping, get lunch, walk dogs and all the other stuff that a downpour delays. We went from thumb twiddling to wishing Kris was still about in the space of ten minutes. In fact when Max turned up I made him earn his lunch by wiping down tables and chairs.
"You were late today,” I probed.
"It was raining pretty damn hard,” he pointed out.
"Your dad rang mine yesterday, looks like we’re on for Friday.”
"Yeah, I got a right lecture, you alright with Mum taking us?”
"Guess so, it’s not like we’ve got a choice.”
“’Spose not, you working tonight?”
"Uh huh, you?”
"Might be,” he suggested.
"Walk me home?”
"I suppose I might be able to.”
"You can walk me too,” Con put in.
"I wouldn’t miss that opportunity fair maiden,” Max hammed.
"As long as I'm the only one you’re kissing.”
"Of course.”
"See you later,” Con suggested.
"Yeah,” I agreed before hurrying on back to Bond Acres, I've got stuff to organise before tonight.
"You all set?”
"Yep, doesn’t suspect a thing.”
"Cool, can’t wait to see her face.”
"Have to go, I can hear them coming.”
"Laters!”
"Come on, Gab!” Con called upstairs.
"Ow!” I had a second stab, literally, at getting a hair grip to actually do what it’s designed for. I wish Mand was here, she’s ace at hair stuff. I set off downstairs at an un ladylike gallop.
“’Bout time.”
"I couldn’t get my braids to stay put.”
"Let’s have a look,” she sighed motioning me to sit at the table, "Grips?”
"Right hand top drawer.”
She started fiddling about, re-pinning, adding extra grips and tucking stray strands into place.
"There, not perfect but it should last the night.”
"Thanks.”
"You really should learn to do it yourself.”
"I'm trying,” I defended.
“Very,” Dad opined joining us temporarily to deposit his coffee cup.
"Da-ad!” I groaned.
"Shouldn’t you be going somewhere?”
"Sugar! Come on Con or we’ll be late!”
At least it’s still dry.
"About time,” Max managed before I assaulted his face.
"Max,” Con allowed, "Come on, Mata Hari, you can snog him to death later.”
"So what kept you?”
"Someone was doing her hair, I wonder why?” Con pointedly queried.
"It’s practical for waiting on.”
"So it doesn’t have anything to do with the Baron here then?”
"No.”
Of course we’d planned this earlier, Max came to ours on his Mofa, later he can ride home – hopefully without a Dad inquisition.
"So, who’s the hunk?” Julia, the English tour guide asked consiprationally as I served the coach crew their soup.
I looked over to where Maxxie was talking to Helmut at the bar, "Max?”
"If Max is tall, blonde and good looking, that's the one.”
"He’s er filling in while Manda, the English girl is away.”
"Methinks someone is more than a temp?”
"Might be, well okay he’s my boyfriend,” I admitted.
"Respect girlfriend, he’s quite a catch.”
Of course I coloured up.
"Leave her alone, Jule, you’ve embarrassed her,” the driver, Matt I think it is put in.
"I er, should get back to your passengers.”
"Thanks, Gaby,” Matt mentioned.
Of course, we’re a well oiled machine now, we’ve been doing this for a couple of months now after all. It helps that the English passengers are less demanding than the Dutch last week, I hope Helmut doesn’t book too many of them. It seemed to be a given that Max would do drinks and P, Con and myself the food, not that I'm complaining, I get to see him much more this way.
"You guys set for tomorrow?” I asked as we cleared the table.
"Inge is gonna take us up, we’ll pick up Bridg and Nen on the way,” P advised.
"Steff’s coming with me,” Con added, "You sure you don’t want a lift, Gab?”
"Just my bag, I'll go direct from training again.”
"You have to love someone that dedicated eh, Maxxie?” P prodded.
"Er yeah, so what’re you up to?”
"Girls’ stuff, Big Boy,” Con stated.
Of course we had Connie as gooseberry again on the walk back to Dernau.
"You coming for lunch tomorrow?” I asked, my arms still draped around Max’s neck.
“Probably, so what’s so secret tomorrow?”
"That’d be telling,” I teased tapping him on the schnozz, "We made the papers again.”
"The kiosk?”
"No dumkopf, we as in you and me.”
"In the papers?”
"Well Stern to be more accurate,” I advised before moving in for more tonsil hockey.
"Mmmm,” he pulled away, "Stern, I guess we’re talking Sara’s wedding?”
"Uh huh,” I agreed turning my attention to his ear, “picture and reward.”
"You should claim it before someone else does.”
“’S what Con said.”
"So why don’t you?”
"And get plastered all over the newsstands?”
"Why not, I quite fancy having a cover girl model for a girlfriend.”
"Tell me when you find one,” I huffed.
"I was meaning you.”
"Hmm.”
I guess the idea does have merit, I don’t suppose the ‘reward’ is worth a great deal but at least I won’t be bothered by the paranoia of waiting to be outed.
"I should get home,” Max suggested.
"What time is it?”
He checked my watch, "Ten thirty.”
“Bum, Dad’ll be waiting.”
"I'm glad I'm not a girl.”
"You’re glad? I wouldn’t fancy you if you were a girl, so I'm more glad.”
"Really?”
"Really and I couldn’t even borrow your clothes.”
"You’re daft, Gabrielle Bond.”
"Daft enough to fancy you,” I suggested before launching a renewed attack on his face.
It was almost eleven before I waved the mofa off up the Rech road, my lust temporarily sated. Now all I've got to do is face Dad, I unpinned my braids before heading inside, well it doesn’t hurt to play the innocent card sometimes and braids are sooo innocent!
Maddy Bell © 23.05.17
Thursday arrived dry and bright, hopefully I won’t have a repeat of Tuesday’s wet ride. I’ve dropped off my bag of stuff for later at the bakery, Con’s gonna take that up for me, yep we’re all sorted, it’s gonna be so cool! Of course the nice weather brought people out so we were quite busy from mid morning onwards even having a queue a few times.
"Hi guys! Surprise!”
My head snapped round, “Bern? What are, how did you?”
"And it’s nice to see you too isn’t it Drea, say hello to auntie Gab and auntie Con,” she waggled her gurgling daughters puddy at us.
“Kris!” Con called out, "Can you look after the shop for a mo?”
"Er you want a drink or something?” I offered.
"Coke?”
I grabbed a bottle on my way out, by the time I joined B, C and D in the garden Con was well into entertaining the baby.
"So to what do we owe this visit?”
"Well, to be honest,” Bern told us, "I needed to get away from the farm for a bit, it’s not exactly action central and I really wanted to see this place, it looks well cool.”
"Warsop's hardly a happening place either,” I mentioned, "So how’d you get here? You can’t’ve walked.”
"Dur!”
"Don’t be daft, Gab,” Con added.
"Well I don’t know do I?”
"I caught the bus down to Ahrbrück then the Express, Mr P’s gonna pick me up from the station a bit later.”
"Didn’t know there was a bus,” I observed, "Never seen one.”
"It’s like a minibus? once a day each way,” Bern advised, "Goes round the villages from the station to Adenauer, it stops at the end of our lane.”
"Right.”
"Here,” Con suggested, "I'll take Drea for a bit.”
Geez, talk about clucky.
"Cheers, Con,” Bern allowed handing the baby off to ‘Tante’ Connie.
"So what’re you doing after here?”
"Dunno to be honest, look in the shops maybe?”
"Thought Mart would be with you,” Con suggested.
"Working,” she sighed, "Erika’s taking us to Koblenz tomorrow.”
"Something to look forward to,” I proposed.
"I guess,” she allowed, "I was hoping to do something with you guys though.”
I exchanged a glance with Con, "Er yeah, maybe Saturday?”
In the end Bern stayed for nearly two hours, Con and I taking turns with actually doing some work, even Max when he arrived getting dragged into baby care. It was good to see her of course, distracting and keeping the lid on the conversation was awkward at times. Despite the isolation of the Preiser’s place she actually seems quite happy despite what she said, Drea anchoring her more securely than any lack of mobility.
“Phew!” Con allowed after we’d waved the girls off.
"Yeah,” I agreed, "I think she smelt a rat.”
"Well we weren’t exactly encouraging were we?”
"It’ll be alright later.”
"I hope so,” Con opined.
"So I'll see you later,” I told Con as I pulled my mitts on.
“’Kay, safe ride.”
"Cheers.”
I engaged a pedal and after a glance behind for traffic, pushed off to start my Effelsberg circuit.
Some days it’s just good to be out riding, the conditions perfect, the bike 100%, you feel fit – you soon have a grin on your face. By the time I turned at Kreuzberg I was singing away to myself, Sheryl Crow today and memories of the Leeds festival when the American exchange guys were over. They were some great times and going to the States after, wonder what the guys are up to? Must admit I've sort of lost contact since I came to Germany, maybe I should look everyone up.
I made light work of the Binzenberg climb, over the top and … what the heck? Noo! I know the road had a few holes but really, tar and chips? Out of all road surfaces tar and chippings has to be my least favourite, it’s slow, loose, slippery and, well it’s just horrible.
My speed had to remain low, there is no way you can tell the embedded grit from the inevitable piles of loose stuff. Stones were pinging off my wheels in all sorts of directions, the one that hit my calf really stung and then for some reason my gears slipped a couple of times. I pushed through that and into the rise past the village, finally running out of chippings just before the roundabout.
At least I can get back some time down to Mahlberg, I cleared the island and rammed the gear paddle down, there was a grinding noise and I was suddenly spinning on the road to nowhere. I looked down, oh sugar! Bum, bum, bum!
Unclipping I coasted to the curb and stopped to survey the damage. there’s one certain thing with bikes, without a chain they take you nowhere and a walk back up the road revealed mine laid quite neatly in the road twenty or so metres back up the road. Ha, I hear you say, a simple job to fix – yeah if you know what to do and just as importantly have the right gear, I have neither tools nor the knowledge.
"Dad, I need rescuing,” I bleated when he finally picked up.
"It’s gonna be a while, kiddo, I'm at the house in Neuweid with Angela, what's up? you’ve not come off?”
"Nah, chains snapped.”
"Snapped? Look it’s going to be a good hour to get there, where are you?”
"Top of Effelsberg.”
"Can you start freewheeling down, I'll meet you as soon as I can.”
"If I do that I can probably get home before you get here,” I sighed, "Alright, I'll do that.”
"Can you bring the chain with you?”
"Really? What for? It’s all mucky.”
"Well I'd like to know why it broke.”
"Okay, see you later.”
I closed the call and stowed my Handy in a pocket, best laid plans and all that.
The chain ended up stuffed up the leg of my shorts and other than a scooting a bit to the top of the climb I managed to freewheel okay. In fact once on the steeper grades I got moving quite well although it got a bit sketchy once or twice – being able to pedal really does make a big difference. Once off the steep bit my progress stagnated a bit, in fact at times I was almost at a halt, when I rolled to a halt on a slight rise I checked the time, damn, the party!
“Max, help!”
"Wassup?”
"I kinda need a favour.”
And so I found myself forty minutes later riding side saddle behind Max on his Mofa up to Staffel. My saviour met me at the kiosk, I didn’t have my keys of course so Max lifted my broken bike into the bin shed and without further ado we mounted the scooter and set off.
"So this is what you were plotting yesterday?” he shouted above the whine of the motor.
"Yeah, the others are supposed to wait in the village for me so we can arrive together.”
"Guess you’re a bit late.”
My Handy buzzed with an incoming text, I slipped it out of my pocket to take a look,
‘?r u, c’
I quickly sent a reply, ‘On way, G’
"How long do you reckon?”
"Twenty minutes?”
Bum.
"Finally!” Bridg allowed when I reached the other Angels.
"Soz, I had a technical with the bike.”
"Come on then,” Ingrid suggested, "I need to get back, some of us are working tonight.”
And so we set off, a motley convoy of two cars and a Mofa along the lane out to the Preiser’s farm. It was horrible on a bike the other day, if anything it was worse today hanging onto Max for grim death as the bike bucked and bounced along. Mart was looking out for our arrival diving into the house as we decanted.
"You want me to hang on?” Max asked.
“Mart might want some company,” I suggested.
"Okay.”
We were cut off by Bern’s voice in the farmhouse, "Can’t it wait, I'm supposed to be helping your mum.”
"Come on Bern, she can cope for two minutes.”
"Oh alright, let’s get it over with.”
"SURPRISE!” we all shouted as she emerged.
She was stunned to silence for a moment but soon found her voice, "What are you all doing here?”
“Party?” Steff suggested.
"Well it is Drea’s birthday tomorrow,” I offered, "Thought we’d er kill two birds?”
"You know about this, Mart?”
"I er.”
He was cut off by a hug and lip lock.
The guest of honour made a short appearance for present and card giving, I think she was a bit overawed by the attention to be honest. We took some pictures then ‘Daddy’ was given responsibility for her welfare.
"He’s really good with her,” Nen mentioned as we watched the ‘men’ return to the house.
"Nice bum too,” Bridg opined.
"Hey, hands off, he’s taken!” Bern stated.
“Just saying.”
"I can’t believe you managed to keep it quiet earlier, Con.”
"I can keep secrets you know,” Con huffed.
"Sometimes,” P chortled.
"And the Preiser's too,” Bern continued, "I thought it weird when Mart vetoed going to the flicks tonight, his mum was going to babysit and everything,” she did a head slap, "And of course his parents knew about this too.”
"Yup,” I grinned.
"Come on, let’s party,” Steff suggested.
We’d brought food of course, there might have been a bottle or two of Châteaux Sebenschuh too but between seven of us it didn’t go far. We chatted, had a bit of a boogie, well you know, generally caught up with things, I've not seen Steff for weeks, or Bridg for that matter so it wasn’t all about Bern.
"Er, Gabs,” Max called from the barn doorway.
"Wassup?”
"I er really need to get off, I promised Dad I'd give him a hand in the restaurant later.”
"What time is it?”
"Coming up to nine.”
"Really?” We’ve been here almost three hours, where’s the time gone?
"We can give you a lift back,” Pia suggested.
Damn, I want to stay but I also want to go with Max.
"Thanks P, that’ll be cool.”
"I'll get off then, night girls!”
"Night, Maxxie!” they chorused back.
I followed Max outside and over to his Mofa, "Thanks for bringing me up.”
“’S okay, I've had a good time.”
"What have you two been up to?”
“Xbox, Mart’s got Bundesliga 06, well cool!”
I rolled my eyes, football. "See you for lunch tomorrow?”
“Maybe.”
Maddy Bell © 25.05.17
It’s just as well that things didn’t go on much after Max departed as I needed to get ready for Bonn. Oh my overnight stuff is easy enough but what to actually wear to the gig is the big question. Do I want to be ‘sexy’ rock chick or go for the grunge junkie look?
I eventually came up with something that I think’ll work, found my ‘Gothy’ earrings, a handful of bangles and my lacy ‘tattoo’ choker, the one that Mum got so het up about last year. Yep, I reckon I'll be rockin’ it tomorrow night.
"Good night, eh?” Con mentioned as we prepared for another onslaught, the forecast suggesting another warm day.
"Not bad, wouldn’t’ve minded a couple more bottles of plonk.”
"You, Gaby Bond, are getting to be a right lush.”
"There was hardly enough to wet the baby’s head,” I complained.
She rolled her eyes, "No doubt you’ll make up for that tonight.”
"Might,” I allowed, "Depends on the supervision.”
I seem to be building up my alcohol tolerance, I'm not out after one drink at least.
Dad picked my bike up this morning when he dropped me off so after a tiring day I joined Con on the Express down to Dernau. Which of course put a hole in my plans, Max and his mum were waiting when I arrived home. No time to change or shower so I quickly changed my shoes, grabbed my bag and ran out to the Cayenne.
"That was fast,” Gloria noted as I clambered in.
"Planning,” I suggested.
"Anyone would think you were in a hurry to get there,” Max opined.
"Not exactly a hurry but some of us have to get ready before we go out.”
Gloria just shook her head before selecting drive and setting us in motion.
As you know, Bonn isn’t far from the Ahrtal, within thirty minutes we were outside Boris’ place.
"Come on, Jules, pick up,” I mumbled into my handset.
"You could go, Mum,” Max suggested.
"I'm going nowhere until I know you’re going to be safe tonight.”
"We’ll be fine.”
"Hmm.”
My sister,s phone rang on, and on, don’t ruin this Jules, please. Like most city dwellers here in Germany, Boris lives in one of the numerous apartment blocks that fill the sub shopping zone. Which of course has an entry system for the outside door, a system that we need my sister to operate.
"Heya, guys,” a familiar voice enquired, "What’re you doing out here.”
Oo I could kiss you Boris!
"Waiting for my sister to answer her phone.”
"Probably in the shower, come on up.”
I gave Glo a wave and hoisting my bag followed Herr Appelroth into the apartment block, Max trailing along behind.
"How long you been outside?” Boris asked as we climbed the first of several flights of steps.
"Fifteen minutes,” Max puffed.
"It’s not like we’re on a tight schedule, there’s plenty of time before we have to go, you both like paella?”
"I guess,” I allowed.
"Cool, J calls it my signature dish, nothing like your English roasts tho, eh Gab?”
"I'll risk anything once, I thought we were going straight out?”
"Food first, couple of beers eh, Max,” Bo supplied climbing ever higher, "Band’s not on till late.”
He stopped outside the last door and fished in a pocket for keys, a moment later we were inside.
"J!” he yelled, "Company!”
"Coming.”
Max and I followed him awkwardly into the main room.
"You guys want a drink? Tea, coffee?”
"Tea,” I suggested.
"Sit, Jule's'll be out in a minute I expect.”
I parked my bags and took a pew.
I looked around my temporary accommodation, fascinated to see what kept my sister here most of the week. To be honest it’s a bit dull, quite tidy, piles of schoolbooks on the dresser and table, TV, piles of washing – well pretty normal stuff really. It’s actually quite spacious, not the poky hole I was expecting.
"Hi guys,” Jules offered, arriving, I guess, from the bathroom.
"Sis,” I allowed.
"Hi, Jules,” Max added.
"You just get here?”
"We were outside for a bit.”
"Why didn’t you come up?”
"You didn’t answer your phone.”
"Soz, I was in the shower.”
"We can see,” I pointed out, she was dressed in a bath towel, her hair up in a turban to dry.
"You want a drink, babe?” Boris called through.
"Whatever’s going, I'll just get some clothes on as my sister’s such a prude.”
Jules strutted out as our host arrived with the tea.
"She always parade around in a towel?” I enquired.
"Nah, only when we have company, usually it’s less,” my brother in law to be chuckled.
"Even with your parents about?”
"Parents? Oh you thought they live here too?”
"Well don’t they?”
"The odd night,” he shrugged, "They live out at Meckenheim.”
"You live here alone?” Max put in.
"Well not exactly alone, there’s Felix, wherever he’s got to.”
"Felix?” well I had to ask didn’t I?
A moment later a streak of something vaguely feline slunk into the room.
"Gab, Max, meet Felix,” Boris told us.
"I see you’ve met Felix,” a hastily clothed Juliette mentioned returning to the living room.
"I'd best get dinner started,” Bo suggested standing for my sister to sit.
"Do Mum and Dad know?”
"Don’t be daft, sis, Dad’d have a hairy.”
"So you,” I started.
"Yes we sleep together, oh don’t be such a prude.”
"I thought I was sharing with you tonight.”
"Smoke screen for Dad, you two are in the spare room.”
"Both of us,” I squeaked.
"I can crash on the sofa,” Max put in.
"How long’s dinner, love?” Jules called out as she stroked Felix.
"Half an hour or so, can make it longer?”
“’S fine, come on, Gab, I'll show you your room and you can get showered then the guys can have it after dinner.”
"Right, I've put you some towels on the chair, bathroom’s next door, you might have to let the shower run a bit to get warm. Okay?”
"Er sure,” I allowed dropping my bag onto the double bed.
"Just put that stuff back on to eat, we’ll change after eating.”
“’Kay.”
Well Bo’s ‘signature’ dish was excellent, bright yellow, full of chicken, shrimps and lumps of some smoked fish of some sort. It was followed by one of Jule’s trifles, I felt a bit stuffed to be honest and no we didn’t have beer or wine, ice tea being the tipple of choice. The table was cleared, Felix fed his own portion, Boris put some music on.
"Come on, Gabs time to get changed, look after Maxxie, Bo.”
"Yes dearest,” he chuckled as Jules dragged me from the room.
We commandeered the master bedroom, it was kinda weird seeing my sister’s stuff mixed in with Boris’ and I found myself staring at the bed.
"Yes we do it on there,” Jules stated.
"Er soz, it’s just a bit...”
"It’s what people do Gabs, you’re sixteen and by your reaction earlier I'm guessing still a virgin.”
"Not gonna change anytime soon!”
"Sorry, kiddo, I thought you and the Baron were past the kissing stuff, come on, times a wastin’”
The lads of course have it easy, T shirt, jeans, trainers and they’re done – well okay black jeans and a carefully selected band T but you get the idea. As a result, by the time my sister and I had primped and painted and preened our partners were already armed with bottles of Krombacher.
"Hey, where’s ours?” Jules pouted.
"Coming up, liebchen,” Boris grinned.
I went and sat on Max’s knees and nicked his beer.
"Hey,” he complained.
I took a swig from the bottle before rubbing my nose purposefully down his cheek.
"Hmm, Nasenring.”
"Later, big boy,” I promised.
"Tease.”
"Here you go,” Boris handed the sisters Bond our own bottles.
"So when do we need to leave?” I asked.
Boris and Jules exchanged some facial movements, "We’ll go after this, it’s not far.”
My idea of not far is clearly different to Herr Appelroth’s, we walked, well it felt like miles, into the maze of streets behind the Hauptbahnhof eventually arriving at our destination, a nameless bar on a nameless street. Boris and Jules were on at least nodding terms with a few of those inside, did I ever feel like a little kid as we made our way through the hairy bikers, uber Goths and other assorted weirdo adults. We paid the cover fee and headed inside.
Compared to the Goldene Rose this place was crammed, we eventually found a spot to stand off to one side.
"I'll get some bier,” Boris told us.
"Can I get a Kolsch?” Jules requested.
"Guys?”
"Er yeah,” I agreed.
"Max?”
"Not fussy.”
"Be right back.”
"Erdbeere, you came,” a voice stated a couple of minutes after Boris returned.
I looked around, someone called me that before.
"It is you, thought so,” Stefan, the singer from BlauHase came into view.
"Er hi,” I squeaked.
"You, blondie, I know, think I've seen you guys around too.”
"My sister and her hubby, Jules and Bo.”
"Nice to meet you Erdbeere’s sister, think I can borrow her later?”
Jules made some strange faces then shrugged "I guess.”
"See you later, kiddo,” Stefan grinned before winking and heading into the crowd.
Maddy Bell © 26.05.17
"What was all that about?” Jules enquired.
"I dunno.”
"Oh?”
"He probably wants me to sing, which I am so not doing!”
"Sing?” my sister pressed.
"Gab did a storming rendition of Run to the hills last time,” blabbermouth Strechau told them.
"Cool!” Boris enthused.
"So what's with the Erdbeeren stuff,” Boris queried.
The Dark One grabbed one of my bunches and waggled it at him, "Dur!”
Any further conversation was halted as the PA system screeched into action and Stefan's voice rent the air, ‘Hello Bonn, we are BlauHase!’
And so the evening’s entertainment got going, I even sort of recognised some of the self penned stuff, happily joining in with the many others tunelessly singing along. It’s certainly not disco music, not stuff you exactly dance to, think more bouncing up and down loosely in time to the band. I grinned across at Max who seemed to be having a po-going competition with my sort of brother in law, yeah this is good fun.
‘Okay folks, I need a bier, back in fifteen!’
The enthusiastic crowd clearly had similar thoughts, I nearly got crushed in the rush! Jules dragged me to the side as the lads headed for the bar.
"Good gig, eh?” Jules enthused dabbing at her fevered brow.
"Yeah,” I agreed fanning myself.
Indeed what had started out as a comfortably warm room was now like a sauna despite a couple of industrial grade fans trying to circulate the heavy air. It seemed like an age but the guys returned with liquid fuel which I gratefully necked.
"Hey steady, sis,” Jules suggested.
"Don’t worry,” Bo mentioned, "We got extra.”
"Bo, she’s only a kid, a tiny one at that, she doesn’t do alcohol well.”
"I've been practising,” I protested.
"I'm supposed to be keeping you out of trouble,” she pointed out.
"Ah, there you are,” Stefan opined joining us for a second time, "You ready for your fifteen minutes, Erdbeere?”
"Hmm?”
"Go on, girl,” Bo encouraged.
"This I have to see,” my sister added.
"Pretty please,” the BlauHase singer appealed.
"Whatever,” I agreed, secretly enjoying the attention.
"Okay folks, I hope you’re ready to rock?”
The crowd cheered back in agreement.
With that the band started ten minutes of assorted Lizzy and metal covers pretty similar to last time, I was bouncing with the best of them but this time from the side of the tiny stage. The music trailed off and Stefan grabbed the microphone.
"You all happy?” he didn’t wait for a reply before going on, "We’ve got a treat for you tonight, a special guest I'm sure you’ll love as much as I do ever since I first heard her, please welcome Gabrielle Erdbeeren!”
It wasn’t my idea, honest. I strutted out onto the stage having removed my jacket, well might as well distract them all from my singing. Stefan passed me the mic and with more confidence than I felt I stood at the front of the stage, the band started the crowd pleaser’s first bars, I sing it to myself out training quite a lot. Everyone recognised the first bars and a lot joined in the first spoken stanza.
Hast du etwas Zeit für mich?
Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich
Von 99 Luftballons auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont
Denkst di vielleicht grad an mich?
Dann singe ich ein Lied für dich
Von 99 Luftballons und, dass sowas von sowas kommt.
The music’s pace picked up and I started my solo warbling,
Von 99 Luftballons auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont
Hielt man für Ufos aus dem All
Darum schickte ein General ‘ne Fliegerstaffel hinterher
Alarm zu Geben, wenn’s so wär
Dabei war’n dort am Horizont
Nur 99 Luftballons
Well I'm sure you all know the lyrics so I won’t repeat the rest here, buoyed by the reception I got I gave Stefan the signal we’d agreed that I was okay to go on and they segued into the much more restrained tones of Amerika.
Meine Koffer sind Gepackt
Paar Minuten, bis ich geh
Es tut mir jetz schon weh
Ich steck das Bild von euch ein
Es soll bei mir sein
Bis wir uns wieder sehn
Ihr guckt mich so traurig an
Und eure Augen fragen wann
Bist du wieder da
I was getting well into it now and by the lack of jeering as I went on suggested the audience were okay with it too. Someone was working the stage lighting and dimmed it right down as I finished the ballad. I got my breath in the moments before the lights came up and Stefan sang the first words of my last song.
Lena?
Nee, heute nicht Lena, sondern Gaby!
Hey that's not right, he’s changed the words!
Augenringe erzählen die Nacht
Fremdes Hotel, bist fröstelnd aufgewacht
Mit nem Gewisse, das dich ständig beißt
Oh, du fehlst mir so
… Nena, wie ‘n klarer warmer Wind
Wenn die Tage stürmisch sind
Lass ich mich zu dir trieben
Seelen aneinander reiben!
There was some cheering and whooping as I got my breath back and Stefan rejoined me at the mic stand.
"How about that, folks, our very own rock Goddess, Gabrielle Erdbeeren, we know she can sing the girly stuff, how about some proper metal, Gaby?”
"Go for it,” I agreed stretching up to the mic.
The strains of ‘Run to the hills’ sounded around me and I was soon lost in a duet with Stefan
Soldier blue in the barren wastes
Hunting and killing their game
Raping the women and wasting the men
Run to the hills, run for your lives
Run to the hills, run for your liiiivesssssssss
I was really enjoying myself now and so were the audience, I was really a bit disappointed when the set finished.
"Thank you everyone and special thanks to our guest singer tonight, Gabrielle Erdbeeren!”
I gave the audience a theatrical wave and soaked up the applause.
"More!”
"Absheid!”
"Another,” Stefan whispered.
"You guys know Bo Rhap?” I suggested.
"Who doesn’t, give us a minute.”
A moment later the drummer who has more than a passing resemblance to Animal from the Muppets started tapping the base line and I took the mic off the stand, the crowd quieting down seeing something more was afoot.
Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality
Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor girl, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low
any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me, to meeee
The band were enjoying themselves, I was enjoying myself and I guess the audience were happy enough as a few joined in here and there. But finally even the encore was over and my fifteen minutes had run to best part of forty five.
"Mein Gott,” my sister allowed meeting me from the stage, "You girl, really are something else.”
Then it dawned on me, something that’s been niggling all evening, she’s speaking very good German.
"Your German’s improved.”
"I should hope so in two years.”
"But you always use English at home.”
"So?”
"We hardly ever do these days, even Mands.”
"Why not?”
"Dunno, never thought about it, I mean we use German everywhere else.”
"Here,” Bo thrust a bottle in my hand.
"Hmm, my girlfriend the rock star,” Max added as he somehow managed to hook his tongue in my nose ring.
"Geroff, that tickles!”
"Gaby!” Stefan called out, "You forgot this.”
‘This’ was my jacket. He came over and returned it to my custody.
"Cheers.”
"Sure I can’t interest you in some regular gigs?”
"It was kinda fun tonight, Stefan but I’ve got other career plans.”
"My sister is a cycling World Champion,” Jules proudly supplied.
Stefan chuckled, "No wonder you’ve got a good set of pipes, I mean it though, if you want to hook up for some gigs give me a bell.”
"I will.”
We stepped out into the cool night air, I was still buzzing from the gig, the others more from alcohol.
"Where are you off to?” Jules asked.
"The flat, it’s this way right?”
"It’s far too early for going home.”
"It is?” my watch reckons it’s like eleven thirty.
"Of course,” Boris chimed in, "We can get Frites at Ulli’s Kellar.”
"Count me in,” Max grinned.
Ulli’s Kellar? Sounds a bit of a dive.
"Oh come on, Gabrielle Erdbeeren, let’s party,” my sister insisted.
"Okay, I could fancy some chips.”
"You know what? I played in that band for over a year and never had a stage name, you’ve already got one, that must be some sort of omen.”
“Urr,” I managed cracking an eye open.
It took me a moment for my head to supply any useful information from my senses, although to be fair the signals were a bit mixed. Something nearby is snoring, something else is laid on my kidneys and my tongue feels like a dried out flannel. A few random bytes of information swam into my consciousness, Bonn, bier and singing?
The snoring ceased as something, an arm maybe landed across my shoulders, "Mornin’, Gab.”
"Max?”
"Hmm?”
"Why are you in this bed?”
"Trying to sleep.”
The weight on my kidneys moved and a moment later I was staring into a feline face.
"Meow.”
"Hello, Felix,” I managed.
The cat leapt off the bed and out of sight.
I quickly ascertained that I was wearing nothing beyond lacy knickers and a BH, I glanced at my apparently naked bedmate, we didn’t did we?
"Morning, sis, good night, eh?” Jules greeted me far too chipper given how I feel.
"Er yeah.”
"You want breakfast? I’m doing us a fry up.”
"Max is in my bed.”
"Lucky you.”
"I erm think we might have done it.”
"My little sis has become a woman, toast or fried bread?”
"But we weren’t meant to.”
"Mum said you’re on the pill right?”
"Er not this month, Jules I can’t get pregnant from once can I?” I started to panic.
"Bugger, good ole mother nature, yep once is enough, sis.”
"But I can’t be pregnant, I can’t even remember doing the deed,” I started to sniffle.
"Come here, you daft bint,” she pulled me into a hug.
"Everything okay?” Boris queried as he joined us in the kitchenette.
"Girl stuff,” Jules advised him, "Can you finish breakfast, liebchen?”
"No sweat.”
"You been bleeding?” Jules asked as I shivered under the shower.
"No, is that good?”
"Well there’s usually blood the first time, you know when your Hymen’s broken.”
"I never had one remember?”
"Well that’s no help then, you sore down there?”
"Not especially.”
"Let’s not panic, I'm supposed to be the daft one.”
"Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
"Right, we’ll go get a testing kit after breakfast.”
"Can they tell this soon?”
"Dunno,” Jules admitted.
"Okay then, now can I panic?”
Maddy Bell © 27.05.17
When Max surfaced the only expression on his face was one of tired over indulgence, there was no hint that we’d been, well intimate.
"Morning.”
"Its nearly afternoon,” Jules observed which got a chuckle from Boris,” there’s food in the oven.”
"Oven?” he shrugged and headed for the kitchen.
"You guys coming up to ours?” I asked.
"Dunno, Bo?” Jules queried.
"Guess so,” he agreed, "We need some shopping though.”
"Okay, me and Gab can do that while you two do some ‘bonding’.”
Bo gave her a strange look before shrugging, "Whatever.”
"Come on sis, stuff to do.”
"How you feeling?” Jules asked as we descended to street level.
"Still a bit hungover,” I admitted, "What time did we get back to the flat?”
"Dunno, two, half past,” she suggested.
"Urgh. So where are these shops?”
"In the next street, we can get you know what in the Apotheke while we’re free of the boys.”
Yeah that, after everything I've said, I'm gonna join Bern as another teen statistic.
The shops, a small Penny, a bakery, ladies hairdresser, slot arcade and the Chemist occupy the ground floor of a modernish block containing some sort of health centre and other stuff above. I trailed my sister around the tiny food market as she shopped for the stuff on her list, I wonder how they manage for money? I picked up a bag of comfort food and dropped it into her basket.
"I'll give you the money,” I hurriedly told her raised eyebrow.
"Didn’t think you were still into them, there’s a factory shop down Godesberg somewhere, I think Bo knows where it is.”
"Just need a quick fix.”
A few minutes later and we were waiting to be served in the Apotheke which unlike the British largely self service format was typical German counter serve pattern. Give me good old Boots®2 any day, we could’ve picked what we need off the shelf, paid and out of there, minimum embarrassment. No, instead we have to queue and ask for what we need.
"Morning ladies, how can we help?” the Apothekerin enquired as we shuffled to the counter.
"I erm,” I mumbled.
The Dark One sighed before addressing the woman, "My sister needs a test kit please.”
Talk about mortified, it might be the truth but nevertheless its not something you want broadcasting to half of Bonn. Okay, that might be a bit of an exaggeration but you know what I mean, everyone’ll know I've had s e x. the woman’s expression didn’t change although I'm sure she was judging me.
"We do a single for five euro or a two pack is seven.”
"Best have the two,” Jules decided, "Be prepared eh?”
"Jules!” I complained under my breath.
"No point doing this today,” my sister advised reading the packet as we walked back to the flat, "It takes a week or so for anything to show.”
"I've got to wait a week?” I almost wailed.
"Its not gonna make much difference is it?”
"But if I'm pregnant it’ll ruin everything!”
"Its hardly the end of the world.”
"Not for you maybe,” I snatched my pack of sweets and started a gummi bear binge.
"You were a long time,” Boris opined when we got back to the flat.
"There was a queue,” Jules supplied.
"You want a drink before we go?” Bo offered.
"I need one,” my sister suggested, giving me a Paddington stare.
"I'll sort my bag,” I mumped heading for the room I shared with Max last night.
"You alright Gab?” Max asked following me through.
"Shouldn’t I be?”
He shrugged, "Guess not, some night eh, Boris said we can come up again if we want, maybe just go clubbing.”
"Whatever, you seen my tights?”
He glanced about, "By the dresser.”
They were indeed, why they were over there, on Max’s side, I've no idea. Why isn’t he saying anything? I mean, I can hardly bring the subject up, ‘did you enjoy the sex Max’, grr, how can he be so casual about it?
It was after twelve by the time I climbed out of Bo’s dilapidated Polo at Schloss Bond having come the long way round to avoid the climb out of Bonn. Even then the asthmatic thing struggled to get much above fifty kph. I'm not complaining, its saved an hour and two trains – well okay time wise it hardly made any difference but it has been door to door.
"You staying?” Dad enquired when Boris pulled, he was armed with a hose and brush, I guess cleaning the dripping camper behind him.
"We don’t have to,” Jules replied, "I've brought cake?”
"I was just going to suggest you park up by the garage,” Dad mentioned in riposte.
“’Kay.”
Boris coaxed the car up the drive and once stopped I wasted no time pulling my bags out and heading inside.
"Gabs! Good time last night?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the voice, "Geez Mand, don’t do that.”
"Soz, you want coffee?”
"My room, stat.”
To be honest I'd forgotten Mand was back, other things, well one other thing has been distracting me today. Once up in Gab’s eyrie I closed the door before crashing onto my bed.
"What’s up?”
"You sure you did it?”
"We must have, we were in bed together.”
"And Max never said anything?”
"Not a word, I got these,” I pulled out the testing kits to show her, "But they won’t show anything for like a week.”
"Can’t you get like that morning after pill? You know from the doctor?”
I did a head slap, "Why didn’t I think of that? But they’re not open till Monday.”
"I'm sure you don’t have to take it literally in the morning,” Mand suggested.
"I'll go Monday morning,” I decided, "So how was Croydon, did you get everything sorted out?”
"How long you got?”
We actually returned to the kitchen to make that coffee for everyone before I got the lo down on Mand’s fortnight at home south of London. Clearly it had gone better than Christmas when she came back to Dernau a week early, she hadn’t had a blazing row with her mother this time. In fact it sounded like she enjoyed herself even riding a couple of local evening races at Crystal Palace and doing quite well.
"So what was all that about, before Yorkshire?” I asked.
"Me being daft.”
"About what?”
"Everything?”
"Like?” I prodded.
"Well you were getting up close and personal with Max, I mean really going on about it.”
"Soz,” I allowed.
"I probably would be too,” she admitted before going on, "Anyhow it sort of came to a head that week you went to the comic thing.”
"You went to Bonn?”
"Yeah and got dumped.”
"Dumped? I didn’t know you were even seeing anyone, you never said anything, we coulda double dated or something.”
"Yeah well its not quite that simple.”
"What is?” I bemoaned, "So what happened?”
"Well if you remember I rode the train up to Bonn with you guys….”
I listened agog, well listened anyway to her tale of desire, lust, stolen kisses, furtive phone calls over the best part of six months.
“….Parents didn’t exactly approve of me, guess it got too much. So anyway we went to the cinema, you know the one on Markt?”
"Think we went once,” I confirmed.
"Anyhow we got the tickets then we got in a fight over popcorn and she just stormed off.”
Yeah She, Mand’s kept that under a bushel, I really thought she was into boys, not that she’s ever really said she fancied anyone, guess she was using it as cover.
"So anyway I catch up to her and she went off on one, said it was all over, she was just experimenting or something and she was seeing Phillip Barnes Hansen anyway.”
"You okay?” I asked resting a hand on her arm.
"Yeah, it really hurt though, I just wanted to die there and then, I really thought she was the one, you know like you and Max.”
"Huh! So you came straight back then?”
"You kidding, I paid for those tickets and the popcorn, I went back inside and sat through Final Destination 3, which by the way was terrible and badly dubbed, on my own, sobbing into my popcorn.”
"Eurgh, soggy popcorn.”
"I wouldn’t recommend it.”
"Why didn’t you say anything?”
"I was embarrassed and angry, you were all lovey dovey with Max, I wanted to talk but there was never a good time so I lashed out. Then your dad suggested I visit home and I thought I'd make a clean break from Sarah, from Germany, from everything.”
By now I was holding her tight and my tears were joining hers.
"So what changed your mind?”
"You did, well you and the girls, when we were in Yorkshire.”
"I, we did?”
"Yeah, I realised that the people I want to be with are here, well that and I don’t think I could give up the racing,” she allowed with a forced chuckle.
"Does Dad know all this?”
"Yeah, well the bare bones at least.”
"He never said a word.”
"I asked him not to, do you forgive me?”
"For what?”
"For being a moody cow, and a lesbo.”
"And I'm not,” I replied, "Well moody cow, not the lesbian bit of course.”
"So?”
"Course, nothing to forgive as long as you don’t go all butch on me.”
"No chance, I might like girls but that doesn’t mean I want to be a man!”
"Well that’s that sorted, we’ll just have to find you a nice local girl to hold hands with.”
"Think I'm done with romance for now, you and Max provide enough entertainment without adding my own drama.”
"Huh!”
"So apart from sleeping with lover boy how was your visit to Bonn?”
"Oh right, I never told you about the gig did I? So Glo dropped us off at Boris’ flat….”
And so I started the story of the BlauHase gig and the evening that followed.
Maddy Bell © 29.05.17
"We’re going for a ride,” I called through to Dad.
"Thanks for fixing my bike dad,” he suggested by way of reply – bum I forgot about that.
"Er thanks,” I belatedly offered poking my head into living room, "What was it?”
"As far as I can see you picked up a stone which got jammed and riding with it burst the side-plate off.”
"They’ve just tarred the Effelsberg road,” I supplied.
"That’ll be it, where’re you off to?”
"Thought we’d pop and see Bern?”
"Well don’t be too late back, we’re out for dinner unless you fancy cooking?”
"What about Goth Gurl?”
"Got some work at the Schloß then she and Boris are going to the cinema.”
"So its just the three of us?”
"What are you cooking up young lady?”
"Er nothing, well maybe nothing.”
"Go on,” he suggested.
"I was just thinking we could take Bern out? They go home on Monday and well, it’d be nice?”
"Hmm, if its okay with the Preiser’s, give me a call.”
"Kewl!”
"You coming Bond?” Mand called up from the lower deck.
"On my way,” I returned, “laters Pops!”
"I'll ‘Pops’ you!”
I beat a hasty retreat and headed for Mand and my bike.
"Ah, this feels so good,” Mand opined as we headed up the valley.
"Really?”
"Yeah, no traffic to talk of and someone I can talk to.”
"Where?”
"Dummy,” she allowed batting my shoulder.
We weren’t exactly doing a full blown training ride, no we were taking the easiest route up to Staffel, up to Ahrbruck then through Kesseling.
"Hi guys!” Bern called from where she and the babe in her arms were watching Mart and his dad doing something with cows.
"Heya,” I returned, concentrating as much on avoiding cow pats as anything else.
"Weren’t expecting to see you guys today?”
"We needed to loosen the legs before tomorrows race,” Mand supplied, “my, hasn’t she grown!”
Whilst the lure of bovine poo and moo-ving cattle was tempting the prospect of a pot of tea won out and we headed to the farmhouse.
"Oh hi girls,” Erika greeted as Mand and I clacked into the house behind Bern who went ahead to put Drea down in the pram.
"Hi Mrs P,” I offered, "Er can we steal Bern tonight?”
"Steal her?”
"Well not exactly steal, we’re going out for dinner and we thought it’d be nice for her to come, Mart’s invited too,” I added.
"We aren’t keeping her prisoner you know.”
"You don’t have anything planned?”
"I'm sure Stefan’s got some bier lined up.”
"Dad’ll run taxi.”
Bern was keen enough to join us so after calling Dad, arranging a collection time and doing a quick goss update Mand and I headed back down to Dernau. I say down, we went over the top to Ramersbach and back via Ahrweiler which at least gave us a bit of a work out.
"Where’re we going?” I asked Dad from the landing on my stairs whilst doing my best to pat my hair dry.
"The Krone?” he suggested through his bedroom doorway.
"Really?”
"Well where do you suggest?”
"That place by the ferry?” I suggested, "They’ve got a garden on the river.”
"The Anker, on the corner at Kripp?”
"Uh huh, that's the one.”
"I didn’t really want to go that far.”
“Please?”
"Go on then,” he sighed, "I'll ring for a table.”
"Yes!” I pumped an arm in the air which resulted in a bare boob moment as my towel made a break for freedom.
The drive from Staffel to Kripp was interesting to say the least, maybe twenty K as the crow flies, half as much again by the time you add in the twist and turns and in the Hymer not the quickest roads either.
"I feel overdressed,” Bern stated as we walked from the camper to the hotel.
"You look fine,” which she did, well maybe a bit Mumsy, but its not like a ball gown or something.
"No ones dressed up,” she noted looking around the restaurant as Dad went to announce our arrival
"Tell her Mart,” I requested.
"You look great liebchen,” the subject of her desires stated giving her a totally uncalled for peck on the cheek.
I guess I did get a good fill on that stuff last night. Last night, yeah, that's not for public consumption or my procreative state. I know I shared with Mand earlier but somehow further dissemination doesn’t seem like a good idea. Oh I know Bern would keep schtum but she’d worry and I don’t want to lay that on her. And I guess Dad was listening earlier as the waiter chappie led us back outside and across to the riverside terrace where we were seated beneath a parasol at least as big as the team ezy up.
"Drinks?”
"A carafe of house white,” Dad suggested.
"Er can we have a jug of water too please?” I requested – well you aren’t supposed to drink if you’re pregnant are you?
"Yeah, best stay sober with us racing tomorrow,” Mand added.
Dad raised a brow at that, its not like I've got the best track record for pre race sobriety but seriously I had enough last night to float a battleship.
"So you had a good week Bernie?” Dad asked between mouthfuls of Spätzle.
"Yeah, I reckon so, I think Drea’s enjoyed it too.”
"She’s only one,” I put in.”
“but very clever,” Bern replied.
"And happy,” Mart added, "Thanks for inviting us tonight Herr Bond.”
"You ever won an argument with my daughter?”
"Da-ad,” I moaned.
"Well thanks anyway, its nice to get away from the farm for a bit.”
"And from Drea for a couple of hours,” Bern admitted.
Gott, I'm gonna be such a terrible mother!
“Bern says you’ve been singing again Gab,” Mart suggested.
"Oh?” Dad enquired.
Bern!
"Well you know what its like at gigs right, everyone gets a bit carried away.”
"I'd say doing it on the stage is a bit more than carried away Gab,” Mart continued, oblivious to my mental messages to drop the subject.
"The stage?” Dad’s interest was piqued good and proper.
"She was up with the band and everything right Bern?”
"This I have got to hear,” Dad invited.
It was a secret Bern, its a good job I never mentioned you know what to her.
"You really are something,” Marty chortled once I finished a very abbreviated telling of my part in the BlauHase gig last night.
"Isn’t she just,” Dad added in a tone of voice that suggested I haven’t heard the last of it though.
"Well just don’t burst into song over the coffee,” Bern giggled.
"I'll try not to,” I dryly replied.
I might have been on the H²O this evening but it was nice to sort of kick back with my friends. Okay Dad’s sat across the table but apart from my rendition of the Bonn gig story he’s kept out of things. They might’ve only had a couple of short meetings before tonight but Mand and Bern seem to get on okay, you kinda forget they haven’t known each other forever.
"What’s up Bern?” I asked seeing her fidgeting with her watch.
"Er nothing really, just don’t want to impose on Erika too much.”
"She’s fine with Drea,” Mart stated.
"It doesn’t feel right,” Bern replied.
"Honestly liebe, she’s bonding with her grandchild, she’s happy enough.
I wonder how Gloria will feel about being a granny in the New Year?
"I think we should go home, please Herr Bond?”
"Well I'm done,” Dad agreed, "I'll go and pay, meet you guys at the camper.”
"Think I need the little girls room,” I opined – well its probably gonna be best part of an hour before we get home right?
Wisely Dad took a longer but easier route back to the farm.
"In case I miss you on Monday,” I handed Bern an envelope.
"What’s this?”
"Extra present from Tante Gaby.”
"Thanks Gab,” Bern allowed stifling a tear as she pulled me into a hug,” you take care girl.”
"And you, have a safe journey home.”
"We’ll try, I'll be back soon enough.”
"If you see the others tell them hi,” I requested.
"Of course but its a big if.”
We hugged some more, I didn’t want to leave but Dad and Mand were waiting in the bus and I could hear the Preiser household doing sort of bedtime stuff inside the house.
"September,” I stated.
"We’ll be here,” Bern confirmed.
We separated and I forced myself to walk to the waiting transport and climb inside.
"You alright Gab?” Mand enquired as we jounced along the lane back into Staffel and civilisation.
"Yeah, I just miss them.”
“But they’re coming back in the autumn right?”
"I know but that's like months away.”
"You’re soft Gaby Bond.”
“Can’t help it,” I stated in my defence.
"I wasn’t dissing you Gab.”
"You weren’t?”
"Its just sometimes Gab, well you’re such a girl, the next hard as flippin’ nails!”
© Maddy Bell 01.06.17
Something disturbed my slumber and I peered through the wet assailing the camper’s windscreen.
"Hope this wet gives up,” I opined to anyone listening.
"Forecast is better later,” Dad advised, "We’ll have a coffee stop at Spessart.”
"How far’s that Mr B?” Tal queried.
“’Bout ten minutes I think,” he called back.
Of course I've not said have I, the guys came down to Neuweid yesterday to join the BC lot who are in their bus behind us. Without BC tagging along we’d have come down yesterday afternoon but instead here we are on the autobahn this morning after setting off at silly o’clock from home. This is a race I missed last year because I was in Manchester but no such get out for the journey this time.
Where are we off to I hear you ask. Well apparently its about twenty kilometres west of Nürnberg, some place called Dietenhofen, not sure why but it sounds familiar. Anyhow, according to Dad’s notes its four laps of a twenty five K circuit, nothing too spectacular on the climb front, it’s likely to end in a sprint – not good as one M. Cavendish is in the bus behind.
With BC having seven riders and us five we’ve co opted Geth onto the Apollinaris roster, he’s playing cards with Josh in the back somewhere. Who else is here? Well Claire, Laura and Sal, Cav of course as well as Jamie and Daz, then there’s boss lady Caro and Mike’s here as their mechanic. It’ll be interesting to see how things pan out.
We pulled off into Spessart Services a few moments later, Dad managing to get us stopped and parked close to the entrance.
"Half an hour,” Dad advised.
“’Kay.”
"Mine’s a Milch Kaffee,” he suggested.
"Yes Dad,” I sighed slipping into my rain coat.
First things first of course, I followed the others inside and down to the lavs.
Sal yawned as she plonked herself down at the next table,” are all the races here this far?”
"Nah, some are further,” Mand gleefully advised.
"What did she say?” Gret queried.
"She was asking if we travel this far to all the races.”
"Coulda been worse if we were based up north,” Tal suggested.
"This one of those series races Bond?” Cav queried as he pulled himself a seat.
I had to think about what he said – oh and translate it!
"Er yeah, the Jungere League, sort of national series, all the top under eighteens ride them.”
"Anyone any good?”
"A few, there’s some good riders coming through,” I hedged, after all I don’t want to spill all my intel, I want to win today.
"If its a series there must be a leader,” Mark pushed.
"I think all the legs have been won by the same rider.”
"They got a name?”
Mand nearly had kittens.
"What’s so funny?” he went on somewhat affronted.
I managed to keep a straight face, "Er nothing.”
"She’s winding you up Man,” Josh interjected, "She hasn’t won all of them quite like.”
"Eh?”
"Weren’t you listening to Caro last night dumb cluck,” Daz asked.
"Sort of.”
"Well think about what she said, ‘we’ll be racing with the best in Germany?’”
"Yeah?”
"She’s sitting in front of you,” Claire put in.
It was like watching a clock change the hour as the cogs finally engaged.
"Bond?”
"That’s me, reigning champeen and current series leader,” I smirked.
"But you’re a...”
"Short arsed sprinter, correctomundo.”
"I was gonna say girl,” he admitted.
"But that would be sexist,” I pointed out.
The translation for Tal and Gret had to wait until we were on our way again as thirty minutes in the services slides away oh so quickly. We were of course all awake now and despite the Hymer’s inability to trouble speeds over a hundred K we arrived at the race HQ a mere five hours after leaving home. I guess theses places are much the same the world over, a sports club or school as host, family and coaches outnumbering the competitors and today would be no different.
"Right,” Dad started once Team Apollinaris were all giving him their attention, "First things first, we are not riding as one team with BC. That doesn’t mean you don’t race with them but the idea as far as you guys are concerned is to get one of you over the line first, I'm sure they’ll be having a similar conversation.”
He paused to let that sink in and for Josh to finish translating for Geth.
"So race plan, four laps, feed at start of three, neutral service. Good chance it’ll come down to a sprint if left to itself, Gaby is our sprinter of course but there are a couple of danger men today, that Degenbold lad from Chemnitz and of course the Cavendish lad next door. We need to distance them both if we can, I doubt we can blunt them with a train. So here’s what we’re going to do….”
"Is it always like this?” Gethin asked as we waited our turn for the introductions.
"Well we don’t usually have the reigning world champ riding but otherwise, pretty much.” I advised.
Well you didn’t think Cav would miss an opportunity to wear his rainbows, I certainly don’t. Unfortunately you only get to wear them in the discipline you won them in so I'm restricted to time trials but that doesn’t mean I get to wear team strip today. Nope I get singled out with the series leaders jersey making me every bit as much a target as Cav in his stripes.
The usual hullabaloo followed, Commisaire instructions, waffle from sponsors / local dignitary then finally we were away. Spots of damp were not enough to warrant caping up but annoying enough to keep eye wear off the face. The green flag waved as we passed the derestriction sign and we headed out into the countryside.
No one in the peloton seemed too keen to make much effort, typical of league events really as everyone is assessing the competition. We rolled on up the valley on a good wide road for a few kilometres before a short sharp climb took us onto a narrower lane that bucked up and down somewhat over the next few K. I guess if you’ve ridden here before you’d be prepared but the next bit of climbing caught more than a few out as it angled steeply upwards.
Up into the village, round a tight corner then a steadier rise towards the head of the valley. It was as we made the turn into Hainklingen that a familiar red, white and blue jersey went off the front. I think it was Jamie making a break for it but Apollinaris aren’t the only ones out to win today so the lone rider barely got twenty metres before a concerted chase followed him into the steepening climb through the village.
Its not long and not really even that steep, maybe ten percent at its steepest but I was still glad when we turned into the main road at the top. The pace picked up quickly on the wider, better surfaced road and although there are a few short climbs is overwhelmingly downhill back to Dietenhofen. I looked for Ron, it was only after a frantic minute not finding her that my brain engaged and I slid alongside Josh instead.
"What you reckon?”
"Has to be that narrow climb man.”
"What I thought,” I agreed.
"Next time then?”
"Aye, best tell the others.”
With no Ron, Josh has taken on the mantle of road captain, oh I'm team leader but the captain is the one tasked with making the plans work.
"Alright Bondt?” Innerthausen queried as we bowled back towards the HQ.
"Yeah,” I allowed, "Action?”
"Count me in.”
"Climb on the lane next time.”
He nodded understanding.
We’ve worked together a time or two, he’s a pretty strong rider but no sprinter of course so getting him on side is almost always a plus to our plans. We slipped apart, no point in alerting anyone else to our impending plot, not just yet.
The bunch never really thinned out, the speed was good but not uncomfortable, well not until we swung through a roundabout and the road tilted downwards a bit more. It certainly caused us to string out a bit, it was a long ribbon of riders that returned to Dietenhofen where it flattened out enough to keep our speed low enough to take the final corner at a still elevated velocity.
However it was an almost complete peloton that passed through the finish area four hundred metres later. The damp was now just a memory, the roads now mostly dry and the sun requiring the eye protection be broken out. It was pretty clear that the BC lot were being marked quite heavily, anytime they moved forward even Sal had a shadow or six!
For our plan to work we needed to get forward but not too forward, not yet. Around me the rest of the team were well placed, the girls well versed in this sort of thing only Gethin a bit of a wildcard. But Dad had co-opted him from BC for good reason, he’s a terrier and follows instructions, the fact he was on my side added some comfort.
Our plan was almost derailed however as a rider in the strip of Münchener Sport-Club took a flyer on the approach to the lane. However Mand went off like a you know what and got his wheel, he now had a passenger he’d struggle to unload. There was a lot of looking about at the front of the bunch but no one else seemed in any mood to chase them down.
They never had more than about a hundred metres lead but they were still out front as the launch site approached. I checked everyone else was in place, yup, Paul was sitting just off Josh’s right shoulder, everyone looking quite relaxed. I took a pull on my bidon and casually checked my shoes, don’t want to pull my foot out do I?
As the road started to ramp I gave a shout, "Beans!”
I know, Dad’s half baked idea, but it did two things, announced launch to my team mates and distracted the rest of the riders, even for just a second. The road was clear ahead, I made good my escape before the gap was closed down and kept the pressure on up into the village, only easing to get around the tight corner near the summit. There was of course a reaction, I was banking on it after all, as I overtook the leaders I had a string of chasers behind me.
Innerthausen came round me, Josh on his wheel, I let a couple more go through before pushing into the line. I allowed myself a check behind, nine of us seem to have clear tarmac on the main bunch, one of which I wryly noted was Daz. Paul and Josh shared the effort across to Hainklingen where I had another dig on the climb up through the village.
Oh I wasn’t trying to get away, no it was to keep the pressure on, it seemed to work. We lost one on the way but once on the top road we reassembled and it didn’t need much encouragement to get a rotation going. The speed increased taking us from comfortable to almost heavy breathing, you know, about ninety percent, a hundred comes later.
Everyone was holding their own so far, Daz was looking strong – I shouldn’t be surprised after the Ryedale trip. I didn’t know the others which I took as a good thing – you’d expect I'd recognise them if I'd crossed wheels with them before. I soon recognised the bypass approach to the traffic island, wow, nearly the end of the lap.
We swept down towards the finish at something around the fifty K speed limit and once again let the flattening road scrub some speed before turning towards the line. Of course this time through its the feed.
"Keep it going!” Dad shouted as I grabbed my musette.
Well duh!
It was only on this third pass that I noticed the factory off to the left, there was obviously some sort of event going on there too. The name plate caught my attention, no wonder I’ve heard of Dietenhofen, its home to Herpa, my favourite model company! Cool.
Anyhow, back to business. I quickly finished transferring the contents of my bag to my jersey before selecting the lump of Angela’s flapjack to munch as we started the long climb back out to the top of the circuit.
"Hopefully have the service up in a minute,” Josh suggested the next time we crossed.
“Uh huh.”
"We need to lose any do you think?”
"Not yet at least,” I opined.
No, for now every pair of legs here are an aid to our eventual success.
© Maddy Bell 03.06.17
The ride up the valley this time was a more serious affair, eight of us sharing the workload, really this lap we need to consolidate our lead. Josh was holding back a bit and perhaps I wasn’t taking as long a turn as some of the others but no one was complaining. Daz just followed through, I'm pretty sure he doesn’t have a plan beyond being here.
"Pretty intense huh?” the English suggested.
Hark at me, you’d think I wasn’t British too if that makes sense.
"Still a long way to go,” I allowed.
"So what’s the plan?”
Yup, he doesn’t have a plan. Well I know Dad says we’re different teams but a bit of cooperation is okay right?
"Big lad in the black and red, he’s the most danger here, watch his wheel,” I suggested.
"On it.”
Josh joined me after the pre lane climb, "Daz in the fold?”
"A willing volunteer.”
"Lad in green’s the weak one.”
"Push up the climb again?” I suggested.
By now our little group had attracted the service bike, our lead is out over the thirty seconds, I reckon we need a couple of minutes by the end of this lap to be safe but getting a time check today – not happening. We started the climb that started things last time around, Josh took the initiative and kept a high tempo up the grade, not letting up until we’d cleared the Dorf. A quick check confirmed my wingman’s thoughts, green shirt was struggling at the back of the group, the last thing we need is a passenger.
To be fair, once we were over the top of the circuit everyone resumed a good work ethic, we had a chance for a breather, well to ride at a less intense level at least.
"How’s it going?” Paul asked as we were sucked along the main road.
I gave my assessment, “reckon we can hold this.”
"My sister is a big fan of you.”
Where did that come from?
"Didn’t know you had one.”
"She is like fourteen, a pain most of the time,” he allowed.
"So does she ride?”
"Hates bikes with a vengeance.”
"So how come she’s a ‘fan’?”
"Dunno, she keeps on about you rockin’ the Families.”
"Eh?”
“You did look pretty hot in Stern the other week.”
“You read that rag?”
"Hardly,” he shot back, "But Angelika, she insisted on showing me the ‘hot Fräulein’ I should date, it was you eh?”
"Bit hard to miss with this hair eh,” I allowed.
"I recognised your smile.”
"Ot oh,” I broke the conversation, "Looks like time for work.”
Indeed, there was action ahead of us, an attack by the lad in green would you believe. He only got about twenty meters before Josh had him pegged but like a terrier, he held doggedly on through the island turn and into the descent to Dietenhofen. I know its a race but seriously, attack at the top of the only significant descent on the circuit?
We were strung out line astern as we turned into the finishing straight, the slight grade being enough to kerb the move. Indeed, by the line we were back in a single lump of riders and machines.
"One forty!” Dad yelled.
"Go Apollinaris!” Angela added.
"Up, up, up!”
"Hang in there Daz!”
"Beans!” I added loudly.
I flicked my Ergo and stood on the pedals, darting past the others at a velocity that gave me twenty metres before there was any reaction. Time trial mode was engaged as I passed the Herpa factory, not sure where Dad got his time information from but its not a huge lead, any mucking about and it’ll be down the pan, especially if the sprinters teams get a sniff. I kept going full gas through the next village only easing off a touch as the road joggle up and down a bit.
My move was sort of planned but not quite so soon, twenty five kilometres is a fair way to be on your own. It was however a pre emptive move, green shirts move may have been daft but I reckon it presaged more attacks this lap. I took bite of energy bar and a swig from my bottle before re-engaging the turbo so it was with a little surprise that I realised I wasn’t alone.
"Wasn’t sure you’d come up Josh,” I gasped out.
"Its not Josh,” Innerthausen’s softer tones advised.
Bummer, of all of them in the group he’s the one I want to contest the finish with least. Oh well, at least he’ll work. The comfort is that of the six behind, two will be blocking for us, well I'm pretty sure Daz will follow Josh’s ‘example’.
Clearly you can’t ride in the same way as a duo as you would in a larger group, it doesn’t mean you don’t co-operate, you just do it differently. We managed a fast rotation until the first climb up which it was every man – and woman, for themselves. Once onto the lane however and two gain a road space advantage over a bigger field, my only worry now was a mechanical.
For a fourth time we hit the slopes of the Obernbibert, a climb we took more steadily this time. I risked a quick glimpse back as we reached the turn, the others were just in sight behind, we have maybe thirty seconds advantage. Its not a huge gap but I reckon if we get over the next lump at Hainklingen with at least half that we can hold out on the faster, down sloping roads back to Dietenhofen.
I dropped a sprocket and looped past my companion out of the village, giving it full gas all the way to the climb. Paul took over as we started the climb but by halfway up I could hear gears being changed behind us, dang! I stood to keep on top of the gear and forced myself upward at one hundred and ten percent.
By the turn out onto the main road my vision was blurring, my thighs burning and my breath ragged. I sat and concentrated on getting the legs round quickly but without unduly adding to my fatigue. A quick check revealed Innerthausen a few lengths in arrears in a similar state, so its not just me being a girl!
But Paul wasn’t the concern, that was the chasers. I took another tug on my bottle as I waited for my companion to reconnect, once he did it was back to the job in hand. With any luck there’ll be at least Josh running interference behind but there's no place for complacency. Paul might be taller than me by some way but we sort of compliment each other in this situation, I get more shelter, he gets more KPH.
The Neudorf church spire, a marker for the roundabout we turn at, came into view, I so wanted to look behind but daren’t. Instead I did my best to keep things rolling smoothly, the five to go board was already history, we have ten minutes racing tops remaining. I might have the technique but Paul has more grunt which makes him dangerous at this point, each time we rotated I was having to fight to make his wheel as he powered through.
The big yellow sign announcing the junction hove into view then took an age to reach. I wanted to be at the back on the run in but I was leading into the island, bum. Well I guess that can be fixed, I didn’t touch the brakes but instead took a wide line into the Dietenhofen road, Paul couldn’t help himself, diving through the inside into pole position.
Two, mostly downhill kilometres to go. I'm pretty sure by his body language he knew he’d been duped back there but to give him his due he kept going, I think we both knew that any games at this point could lose the race for both of us. Through the chicane into the town and as the gradient ran out the kilo board taunted us.
I have a plan, of course I do, whether it’ll work is another matter. Innerthausen’s best chance as a non sprinter is to go for a long one, he won’t expect me to do the same – I hope. He glanced briefly behind as we approached the last corner, the turn into the finishing straight.
His expression told me a lot, any thoughts of delaying my launch went out of the window. We swooped through the corner and I lit the blue touch paper, well engaged the twelve sprocket at least. He was expecting me on the outside, I didn’t disappoint going well wide on the closed street.
Have I blown it? He came back to me, drew level even on the rise to the line but at two hundred he blew. There was still no chance of letting up as the cheering from spectators confirmed more riders astern, I only sat up to claim the victory with ten metres to go.
"Another fifty,” Daz bubbled at me as I hung over my bars collecting my breath.
"But there wasn’t another fifty,” Caro observed passing him a bottle, "Well done Gaby.”
"Cheers,” I managed to get out before hawking a gobbet of bile into the gutter.
I heard rather than saw the rest of the bunch come in, there certainly wasn’t as much as two minutes between my finish and theirs. The result? Well apart from me of course, Paul got overhauled for second by Daz, apparently the best of the rest in a sprint. It was a good result for the newbies even if Cav came in with a face like thunder – hey you do what you need to in this game!
"Done,” I announced as I left the shower cubicle.
"Cheers,” Tal allowed, we’re using the camper, as usual the girls changing is a bit lacking, one port a shower thing outside the ‘changing room’ whilst the lads get the full tennis club facilities.
I dressed in shorts and a camisole and headed outside.
"Where are you off to?” Dad enquired.
“Just a short walk, they’ll be in the shower for ages yet.”
"Got your phone?”
I patted the rear pocket of my Daisy’s, “yup.”
"Don’t go too far.”
"I won’t,” I could see my target barely two hundred metres further up the road.
Okay, call me sad but I was quite taken by seeing the Herpa factory, the actual place where those tiny jewels of my desires are actually made. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do once I got there but that's not important is it. I skipped out to the road, crossed to the path and walked out towards the low building.
There was definitely something going on, they had a ‘Herpa’ ezy up and there were a load of what looked like ‘classic’ cars parked along the front of the building. I pulled out my phone and took a pic, it might not be high quality but its better than nothing. I continued along to where the buildings entrance appeared to be, a huge name board and the familiar stripes standing boldly by, I reckon this is worth a selfie!
“You are a fan eh?” a voice enquired from beside me.
"Er sorry,” I hadn’t realised anyone was nearby, "A bit, I saw it earlier and had to get a piccy, what’s with the autos?”
"A club from Ingolstadt, they come for a visit during a weekend to Rothenburg.”
"Some nice cars,” I allowed.
"So what brings you to these parts? By your accent you are from the en ar vey? oh Claus by the way.”
"Er Gaby, bit south of Bonn," I didn’t know I had an accent, "the race, four times around the block,” I offered pointing down the road.
"Ah yes, if you go about as much as I do you can spot them, so you have a good result?”
I blushed, "Er I won,” my hand nervously playing with a lock of hair.
"Well that deserves a reward, you want to come inside, to the museum?”
Museum? There’s a Herpa Museum?
"I shouldn’t, its a private thing.”
"And I'm inviting you to join me, as my guest.”
Oh – my – god! Should I, shouldn’t I? Well it would be churlish to turn it down and who knows if I'll get the chance again?
"Er yes please!”
I followed him past an old Trabant emblazoned with the company name and across to the glass facade. He waved and exchanged greetings with a couple of people as we went inside then led the way up stairs. It felt a bit weird, naughty even to be here but upstairs there were a few people about amidst the cabinets and displays.
"Our history,” he proudly pronounced, "Go explore, its not big but neither are our models eh?”
"Er thanks, this is super.”
"I need to mingle, I'll find you in a short while eh? If you need anything Reinhold over there in the red, will look after you.”
I nodded in agreement, a grin plastered across my face.
© Maddy Bell 05.06.17
It didn’t take me long to get lost, not physically but metaphorically in the world of Herpa models. I drifted from the first room into the warren of displays next door totally enthralled by what I was seeing. It wasn’t just cabinets of models, that would get old quite quickly, however the series of dioramas captured my enthusiasm.
The model archive was quite revealing and the various displays for their aircraft range took up valuable car space! I spotted a lav and made a side trip – well never waste an opportunity, that's my life rule and I'm sticking by it. When I emerged the ‘museum’ seemed strangely quiet and indeed a retrace of my route revealed not another soul about.
Bzzzt, bzzzt.
"Hello?”
"Where are you?” Dad demanded, "We’re waiting to get off.”
Bum! I forgot all about the rest of them.
"Er just up the road?”
"How far is ‘just up the road’?”
"Not far, honest, five minutes?”
"Five minutes,” he confirmed.
I pocketed my Handy and after a last wistful look at the cabinets headed down the stairs back to the entrance.
"Ah Gaby, I was just coming to find you,” Claus stated as he came into the building, "You seen everything?”
"Yes thanks, there’re some really cool models up there, makes my collection look pretty poor.”
"You don’t have to have a lot to have a satisfying collection.”
“I guess not, it would be nice to have a few more though,” I sighed, "Anyway I need to get off, the rest are waiting for me, thanks for letting me look round.”
"No problem, to be honest those car buffs can be a bit of a bore, wait there a moment.”
"Er okay,” I allowed, well may as well be in strife for ten minutes as five.
Claus disappeared behind the reception area, I heard voices, a laugh and then he returned.
"For brightening my day and winning your race,” he presented me with a carrier bag emblazoned with ‘Herpa’.
Whatever it is I can’t accept it, “I can’t.”
"Of course you can, I insist,” he told me.
"Herr Wagener, you’re needed outside,” a young woman in a Herpa shirt called from the doorway.
"Oops, looks like I'm needed again, take it please and have a good trip back to Bonn.”
Well gift horses and stuff, "Er okay, thanks again for letting me gatecrash.”
"No problem,” he winked and headed outside.
I took a deep breath and followed.
It was tempting to check the contents of the bag but Dad’ll be chuntering so I did a speed walk past the row of old cars and onward to where I could see the Hymer already out on the road.
"Where have you been?” Pater demanded as I climbed in.
“I said, just up the road.”
"Hmm,” he allowed starting the beasts engine.
Angela was up front with Dad so I seated myself on one of the comfy chairs in the back.
"What you got there like?” Josh enquired.
"Dunno yet, not looked.”
"Herpa, don’t they make those toy cars you collect?” Mand suggested.
"Uh huh,” I agreed, "Their factory was just up the road, where’s Tal?”
"Having a kip in the back,” Josh supplied.
"So how’d you get the bag, bin surfing?” Gret opined.
"As if!”
"So?” she pushed.
"They had some sort of event on.”
"And you just happened to drop in,” Mand added.
"No! Well sort of, I just went for a look and this chap invited me in, they’ve got a museum, well brill.”
"Only you lass,” Josh stated, "So what’s in the bag.”
"Dunno, Claus, the chap who I was talking to, insisted I have it.”
I tipped the contents out onto the floor between my feet.
“Gott, it looks like you raided a Spielshoppe,” Gret mentioned.
And indeed it did there must’ve been half a dozen cars, a plane, a stack of brochures, a cap and a t shirt.
"Wow!”
"Toy cars?” Geth enquired.
"Yeah, Gab collects them,” Mand filled him in.
"Used to have a load of Matchbox®, nothing like these though,” he supplied scooping a wayward model from the floor, "Not even sure what this is.”
"Lets see,” Josh requested reaching for the model, “BMW 2002 tii.”
"How you know that?”
"Says on the packet,” Josh smugly advised, "What else you got Gab?”
And so we spent the first part of our journey north checking out my swag.
Our route back wasn’t that we used on the way down, instead of going Würzburg – Frankfurt we headed across to Heilbronn and on to the Rhein basin. we’d been going for about two hours when we departed the autobahn.
"We stopping?” I called forward.
"Only if you want to eat.”
"Where are we?”
"Speyer.”
"Where we stopped when we did that Hockenheim chipper?”
"The same,” he agreed as we pulled up at a set of lights.
"We going to the same restaurant, Die Münz or something?”
"Possibly, why?”
"No reason, just enjoyed the food.”
It only took a couple more minutes to cross the Rhein and in short order we were parked across from the Dom.
"We all eating together?” Caro asked as she joined us at the Hymer.
"Tables booked,” Dad supplied, "They’re expecting us in ten minutes.”
"Now that’s what I call organisation,” she stated.
“Gab, can you go on ahead and let them know we’re on our way?”
"Er sure, where is it?”
"That one you were on about, Zur alten Münz, its booked under Bond.”
"Neat!”
“I'll come with,” Mand offered.
So whilst the rest of our party were corralled the pair of us set off into the town.
Dad stood at the head of our table and waited for everyone to settle down, "This isn’t going to be one of Mr Brailsford’s lectures, I'll keep this brief.”
There was a bit of nervous laughter from the BC camp.
"So firstly, I want to welcome the BC contingent to Germany, sorry its all been a bit rushed this weekend and that you got dropped straight into the fray today, we’ll try to be more organised over the rest of your stay. Whilst I'm nominally the Boss, Caroline will be doing most of the day to day stuff in Neuweid not just for the BC riders but for Apollinaris people too. Tomorrow I'll be down and we’ll start putting a programme together, work on getting you all in tip top condition for Spain in August.”
"Spain?” Tal asked after Josh translated for her.
"We’ll talk tomorrow Tali,” Dad advised in German.
“’Kay.”
“Right, in that case lets have a toast,” he proposed.
We all raised our glasses of assorted beverages.
"To success!” Dad offered.
"Success!” we all chimed back with a clink of glassware.
By the time we were done at the restaurant it was closing on seven, its gonna be late getting back to Dernau.
"What the heck’s that?” Cav queried as the Jumbo jet at the Technical Museum came into view.
"What’s it look like,” Mand asked in turn, having already been tipped off.
"Well yeah but how er why?”
“Big museum place,” Josh supplied, “guess you didn’t see the Concorde away back down the motorway man?”
"Er no,” Mark agreed.
"The other part of the museum.”
"So you been then?” Geth enquired.”
"Nah, bit far from home.”
"So how come you know about it, them,” Jamie asked.
"Leaflet I picked up last time we raced down this way.”
“Is there always so much driving to the races,” Daz queried.
"We usually stay over if its more than a couple of hours but I don’t know now,” I allowed. Indeed hotels beds for a dozen plus will cost a bomb.
"Probably tents on some scabby campsite,” Geth opined with a hint of humour.
We got a better view of the Jumbo on our departure, it would be good to visit the place when its open sometime.
The remaining journey up to Neuweid took a little over two hours, the last of us had a further half an hour or so to finish our journey to Dernau.
"Anyone want hot chocolate?” I asked as we pulled onto the drive.
"After I've changed,” Mand suggested.
"Dad?”
"Eh?”
“Chocolate?”
"Er no, think I'll head straight to bed once I'm done with the bikes.”
"You need a hand?”
"No, I'm only unloading them tonight.”
“’Kay.”
Clearly the long day has been tough on Dad too, we did leave home early eighteen hours ago.
Somehow despite being knackered when I got to bed I couldn’t sleep so I found myself reliving the days events. The race was harder than i’d’ve liked but I grinned to myself as I re-lived my stunning attack and then the final sprint, put that in your pipe and smoke it Cavendish! I reckon I've tied up the Jungere League again after today, Innerthausen will probably hang on to second after today as Josh only scored two points.
Getting in the Herpa museum, now that was well sweet! I didn’t even know there was a museum let alone that its in the same town as one of our races. And that Claus whatsisname, oh yeah Wagener, I guess he must be some manager or something, the other Herpa people seemed to be pampering to him. To get that goody bag too, now that was really neat with a capital N, there must be like fifty euros worth in there.
Hang on, that girl called him Herr Wagener, isn’t that the people who own Herpa? The light went back on, I have to investigate. I shuffled through the pile of brochures in the bag, there was a copy of Der Maßstab amongst them, sort of like Herpa’s own modelling magazine. I scanned through, there was an article on some exhibition and a picture, yep Claus Wagener, the text indeed confirmed his identity and position, Managing Director – cool! Somehow that knowledge helped settle my mind and no sooner had I got the light off again and I was out like a lamp myself!
© Maddy Bell 07.06.17
Monday morning and I feel like poo! Somehow Dad’s as chipper as usual, maybe its because he’ll have a helper elf, I mean Manda here today. Yeah, while I'm sweating over a hot er hotplate, de Vreen is done with school until September so she’s free to have a lie in and fully connect with the BC ‘training camp’. Its not sour grapes, I enjoy being at the kiosk but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to be with the guys like last year.
But less of my moaning, Dad brought me and the baked goods up to Connie’s Kiosk before whizzing off to look after his new charges – okay I'm jealous, I'll admit it. And then there’s my impending visit to the clinic this afternoon.
"What’s up with you?” Nena asked finding me staring into space for a third time, "You look like you lost ten euro and found ten cents, you not win yesterday?”
"Er yeah.” I allowed.
"So what’s up?”
"Nothing.”
"Come on, spill,” she pursued.
When I told my friend it sounded unbelievably stupid of course.
"So what happened in Bonn?”
"What didn’t?”
"Oh?”
"Well you know we were going to stay at Boris’ place, well it turns out he and my sister are playing house.”
"They are engaged,” she opined.
"Yeah but like the Rents don’t know.”
"You gonna tell them?”
"Course not, well anyway Boris cooked dinner….”
My discourse was interrupted several times of course, we are running a business after all.
"You Gaby Bond have more adventures than anyone I've ever known.”
"I don’t.”
"You do so, you go to see a band and end up singing with them, that would never happen to me.”
"It could,” I protested.
"No it couldn’t, you know I can’t hold a tune.”
"There is that,” I allowed, "But you still get to do stuff.”
"Nothing as exciting as you, I'd best clear those tables.”
"Er yeah, right,” I agreed.
Maybe she’s right, I do always seem to be in the right or is it wrong place.
"Hiya!”
"Bern, wasn’t expecting to see you today, you come on the Express?”
"No, Erika and Mart are over in the car.”
"Didn’t think your bus was until this evening.”
"Half six, we’re doing Kӧln and dinner before I go, thought we’d stop and say bye to Tante Gaby didn’t we Drea?”
The baby gurgled at me.
I went around to the garden, you can’t say goodbye over the Frikadel can you?
"Wish you were staying longer.”
"Be careful what you wish for.”
"Why so?” I queried as I chucked a giggling Drea under the chin.
"Well I know we got stuff sorted but I still want to come move out here.”
"When you’ve finished school though?”
"Me and schools don’t exactly get on do we Gab’s?”
"But I thought you wanted to be like a kindergarten teacher?”
"I thought I did, but lets face it, with my record I've got no chance, who wants an ex druggie single mum looking after their kids?”
"But that isn’t you.”
"Maybe, maybe not but its on my records, nope, I've done my GCSE’s, that's me done.”
"So what are you going to do?”
"Not sure Gab’s, I can’t sponge off mum and dad forever, something’ll turn up.”
"Yeah,” I agreed with a sigh.
"Look, I need to go, the Preiser’s are waiting, I'll ring when I get home.”
"You’d better,” I scolded giving them both a hug and Drea a kiss on her bonce. "Have a safe journey Bern, hang on a mo.”
I sprinted back into the cabin, grabbed a couple of bottles and a Frikadel sandwich from the fridge, bagged them and returned to the travellers.
"Here, for the journey.”
"You don’t have to Gab.”
"Hey, what are friends for?”
"Thanks Gab,” she pulled me into another hug before departing, both of us leaking from our eyes.
"We talking today?” Max ventured some time later.
"Shouldn’t we be?”
"Well you weren’t exactly talkative on Saturday,” he pointed out.
"I er had stuff on my mind.”
"Sorry for you know the bed thing, not sure how I ended up in there, think I was three sheets.”
"No kidding,” I agreed.
"Well you were hardly sober.”
With that I can’t argue but it didn’t make our er intimacy situation any less traumatic.
"So, chicken pie?”
"Hi Gaby,” Fritzi greeted me after spotting me in the waiting room.
"Er hi.”
"Not here for anything serious I hope?”
"No er just routine stuff, you know,” I pointed to my nether regions.
"So you been to any more gigs?”
"Went to see Hase again on Friday, in Bonn with my sister.”
"Become a fan eh?”
Well almost a member of the band actually, "Sort of, Jules was on about going to see Nina Hagen next month.”
"Interesting taste your sister,” Fritzi allowed.
“Gaby Bond, room five,” the receptionist called over.
"That’s me, see you soon.”
"Not on a professional basis I hope,” the nurse suggested.
"Hello Gaby, what can I do for you today?” Dr Martin enquired, “please take a seat.”
I gingerly sat, where to start? Well in for a penny.
"I think I'm pregnant.”
To give her her due her expression never faltered.
"Well you wont be the first young woman I've seen with child,” she started, "So what makes you think you are expecting?”
To be honest, for the second time today what I told someone'd sounded stupid even to me.
"I'm being silly aren’t I?”
"Not in the least, there’s nothing wrong with being cautious, pop behind the screen and put the gown on, I'll get the nurse in and we’ll take a look eh?”
And so, willingly for a change, I suffered the indignity of an internal exam.
I finished making myself decent and rejoined the Doc at her desk.
"Well, everything looks in order, no tearing or abrasions.”
"Is that good?”
"Well I know you’ve dilated in the past but most women suffer some damage their first ‘natural’ time, either some tearing or I guess you’d call them friction burns and often some inflammation.”
“’Kay.”
"If I had to give a snap answer I'd say you hadn’t been penetrated.”
"Not,” I mumbled.
"But,” she went on, "Because we want to be certain, we’ll do some bloods.”
"Okay, but you don’t think I'm pregnant?”
"I think it unlikely, especially given your history.”
My history, the fact I didn’t have the right plumbing, or wrong as far as I'm concerned, until last autumn. But not being with child is good, yeah, most definitely.
“Gaby?”
"Er sorry.”
"I'll ring you with the results, probably Thursday.”
"Er okay, Mum doesn’t have to know does she?”
"Well I'm not going to tell her,” Doc Martin advised, "How is your mother?”
"Okay I think, she’s been away racing for a couple of weeks.”
"Tell her hi when you see her.”
"I will, er thanks.”
I got in from my medical excursion in better humour and a few minutes before Dad and Mand returned.
“Are you going cheering tonight?” Dad enquired.
"Er yeah, we need to work on stuff for next week, you coming Mand?”
"I guess,” she allowed – I think she enjoys it more than she lets on.
"Well in that case,” Dad went on, "I'll just grab a sandwich now then.”
We spent the session going over our non competition routine, we’ll be doing a couple of shows so we’ve split our proper offering in two to give the audience a bit more to watch.
“P za?” I asked with a chuckle as we gathered outside the clubhouse.
"That is just so bad Bond,” Pia mentioned.
"Thought it was pretty good.”
"No Gab, that was so awful its not even funny,” Mand added.
"So you girls all okay for Adenau?” Hannah queried joining us after locking up.
"Should be,” Mand stated, "We’re racing on Saturday so unless we fall off.”
Hold that thought Mand, I so do not want to crash again this season.
"Will you have transport do you think?” Han added.
“Probably,” I'll have to ask Dad I guess.
"Inge’ll probably take us,” P suggested.
"Okay, I'll see people at Garde on Friday?” Hannah suggested as Dad arrived in Mum’s A.
“Unless we get a better offer eh P?”
"Nite girls!”
"Bye Han!”
"Tschussie!”
"You gonna fetch them Gab?” Dad suggested waving a twenty note in my direction.
"I'll go Mr B!” Pia offered, grabbing the money before I could react. She was gone like a rocket.
"What’s that all about?” Mand asked.
"You really don’t want to know,” I proposed.
"What am I missing?”
"Oh alright, she fancies one of the lads in there.”
"This I have to see,” Mand opined getting out of the car.
"Did I miss something?” Dad queried.
“Just girl stuff,” I advised as I followed de Vreen to the pizza shop.
© Maddy Bell 09.06.17
"See you later,” Mand called down into bike central.
"Yeah,” I absently replied as I retrieved my bike from the rack.
I did the usual checks that Mum and Dad drummed into me when I first started riding, tyres and brakes, make sure its in a sensible gear, takes seconds but will generally show up any issues. Of course with Dad looking after the bikes they are in theory in A1 condition anyhow but old habits die hard. I opened the garage door, mounted up, clicked a foot in, pushed off down the drive and started my ride to work.
Its a pleasant morning, my mind clear of anything in particular, well okay I'm still a bit anxious over the pregnancy thing, but I found myself riding along, a grin like a Loon plastered on my face. Bern and the baby will be back in London by now, hope they are okay, its a long time on the coach and the ferry too. I've ridden up the Rotweinstraße that many times that I do it on auto pilot, swerve around that pothole, change gear at this point – well you get the idea.
Thirty minutes later and the coffee machine was warming up and I was in the stockroom changing out of my bike gear – there is no way I'm wearing bibs and a sports-halter all day. My assistant arrived as I pulled my shoes on.
"Another day at the grindstone,” Kris offered.
"Yeah,” I agreed as she stowed her bag.
“’brellas?”
"Nah, lets see how it goes,” I decided passing her the keys.
And so the scene was set for what developed into a busy day at Gaby’s Garten. Max of course came for lunch but it was otherwise uneventful until just before four when Mand turned up.
"Am I first?” she queried after parking her steed at the fence.
"First?”
"Thought the others would be here by now?”
"What others?”
She gave me one of those ‘you’re kidding’ looks, "The Neuweid guys?”
"What about them?”
"You really weren’t listening this morning were you?” she sighed.
"Yeah, were going up to the Ring right?”
"At least you got that much, are you getting changed or what?”
"Er yeah.”
By the time I'd exchanged Capri’s and Keds for bibs and Sidi’s, Mand wasn’t the only cyclist waiting outside.
"Heya Gab’s”
“Mark,” I allowed flatly
"Not what I was expecting when your dad said we were riding from ‘Gaby’s snack bar’.”
"Its not exactly mine.”
"Yeah, I thought it’d be some skanky burger trailer.”
"Thanks,” I allowed.
"Congrats on Sunday by the way, pretty classy move.”
"Just improving the odds.”
"I was a bit miffed on Sunday, thought we’d all be riding together.”
"Yeah well, you know what thought did.”
"Okay people,” Dad called for our attention, "Right, two groups, girls and lads, Gaby you’re with the lads today.”
Great.
"We’ll be following the lads in the minibus, Mand, you girls get ten minutes start, we’ll reconvene at the Schnitzel place okay?”
"By the castle yeah?”
"That’s it, okay ladies, off you go.”
That meant the rest of us had time to kill.
“Daz, leave the staff alone,” I requested.
Kris pouted and batted her eyelashes when Darren returned to our group.
"Okay people,” Dad got our attention again, "I just want a rotation going up, I want you all together so no racing, Gaby knows the way, right on your way.”
It was only then that I realised my bike was still in the bin shed.
I ended up having to chase the others down, it was the Kreuzberg junction before I got onto the back of the group.
"Where you been man?” Josh asked as I got my breath back.
"Would you believe I forgot my bike?”
“Man, you were daft as a blonde, youse worse with the pink!”
"Huh! I'm still blonde underneath.”
"TMI Gabs,” Geth chortled.
Urgh, boys!
It was weird riding the familiar road in a group like this, even if we aren’t ‘racing’ the speed is higher than when its just me and Mand. On the other hand it feels so much easier than usual too despite reaching Adenau in a super quick fifty minutes. Of course the gradient starts to bite from there and the speed rapidly dropped from around thirty to twenty as soon as we crossed the circuit at Breidscheid.
"Is that the girls?” Geth asked as the road opened up a bit.
"Think so,” Jamie concurred.
"We should catch them,” Cav proposed.
“Dad said no racing,” I pointed out.
"Its not racing if we just up the pace a bit is it?”
Well its a technicality I guess, I glanced behind, the minibus was about fifty metres back, the Mayen bus coming up behind it.
"When the bus comes past then.”
Looking up the road, the girls have probably still got best part of five minutes on us, the gradient is deceiving in terms of time taken to climb it, if we’re gonna catch them we are gonna have to really give it some. Josh started to wind things up a bit so when I shouted ‘now!’ we were already doing twenty five again. The girls however were having their own ‘competition’, at the Quiddelbach turns they were still well ahead of us.
"What’s that?” Daz asked.
"What?”
"That noise, there it is again.”
I guess you get so used to these things you ignore them, the noise was an engine dopplering in the forest somewhere out on the circuit.
"Someone out on the circuit I guess.”
"Circuit?” Jamie queried.
"The Ring.”
"As in Nurburgring,” Josh added.
"Really?” Mark queried.
"No, I just made that up, of course really,” I advised with an eye roll, “left after the bridge.”
By now our speed had dropped back again as we made the upper reaches of our route, the ramp onto the two five eight causing a universal dropping of gears.
"Can’t see the girls,” Geth mentioned as we turned onto the long straight past the GP circuit.
"They must’ve turned the juice up,” I suggested, I know why we can’t see them, Mand will have taken the short cut through the circuit.
"How much further Gab?” Mark queried.
"Couple of K,” I suggested trying hard to hide my grin.
We got back into a rotation and made short work of reaching the village turn, Geth nearly fell off when something loud and fast went over the circuit bridge just as we reached it. Then the restaurant hove into view, the girls just turning into the car park below the castle. The pace fell off as parked cars and traffic prevented our rotation continuing.
"Okay ladies and gentlemen,” Caro addressed us as we gathered ourselves in the car park, "Sprints, Gaby, if you take yourself down to the roundabout set people off at fifteen seconds until your dad gets there please, you’ve got about three hundred metres up to the sign where Dave’s at now, I want a hundred percent effort, we’ll do three sets, okay?”
Well this is different, not done this sort of stuff for a while.
"Right, lets get on,” she chivvied.
Dad arrived in time for me to join the sprint fest, setting us off TT style. Its hard work if you give it everything, the rest between sprints was minimal, by the time we’d slowed, turned around and return to the start we had perhaps thirty seconds to spare before the next set. I was last in of course and I freewheeled into the car park already sucking on my bidon.
“Good effort people, steady ride back to where we started,” Caro advised, "Your Dad says you know a different way back Gaby?”
"We can go over Kaltenborn,” I suggested.
"You know the roads girl, so it isn’t a race so steady please.”
We set off just as Dad arrived, “Kaltenborn!” I called over.
You might remember this route, along towards Kempenich then over the top and down to Kesseling, yeah that road. it’s a fairly logical route and one which I can show off on. Our bigger group trundled along like a Sunday club run, occasional rotation but nothing formal, riding just below piano.
"This that road we used the other week?” Tal asked.
“Might be,” I allowed.
"Caroline said not to race,” she mentioned.
"Who’s racing?”
I signalled to Mand as we dropped through Kaltenborn who nodded back, time for some mega fun!
It’s ten kilometres of fast roller-coaster downhill, a road I know ever lump and bump of. I dropped a couple of sprockets and sprinted forward, Mand flicked out behind me and we took off to a chorus of yells from the others. It was of course inevitable there would be some reaction and sure enough a glance behind revealed a pursuit.
Mand took over pace setting for a bit but I wanted clear road for the Herschbach jump so I retook the lead. My speedo was showing almost sixty five through the village and I prepared myself to catch some air. Into the dip, flex the knees, push and……..wheeeee! There was a slight wobble as I touched down but then its into a tuck and get the momentum back up.
Geth came up to us as we slowed a bit for Weidenbach, "Yee-haaa!”
"Easy through the village,” I called after him as he accelerated ahead.
"Best catch him before the bottom,” Mand opined coming alongside.
"Yeah!” I agreed, "I'll get Geth, you look after the others.”
"On it,” she agreed.
I dropped it into the twelve and started to chase him down. Its about four kilometres down to Kesseling and it took me three to catch up to him.
"Need...slow...down!”
“….for?”
"Junction.”
"Bum!”
However you look at it, slowing a bike from seventy K takes some distance and effort, we just about reached zero velocity at the T junction as a logging truck did its best to break the speed limit on its way up towards Staffel.
"Some ride,” Geth allowed as we rolled across the junction, "You must have cleared ten metres on the jump.”
“More like twelve,” I suggested, I measured the road there, if I reach the marker board its twelve metres.
"You’re mad.”
"And you’re not?”
“Guilty as charged.” he allowed with a grin.
© Maddy Bell 11.06.17
To be fair, the rest of them weren’t much behind, by the time we passed the sawmill we were back together. From here its not far back to Altenahr, down to the main road at Ahrbrück then less than five from there along the valley.
"This the road we went out on?” Mark asked as we passed the rail terminus.
"Uh huh.”
"Thought so, recognised that car back there.”
"Car?”
"Some sort of old Porsche I think, right bit of kit.”
"I know someone with a Porsche.”
"Nice, what model?”
"One of those four wheel drive things.”
"Pah! That's not a real Porsche, if its got more than two seats its a Volkswagen,” he espoused.
"Whatever, its got a Porsche badge on it, I suppose the tractors aren’t real either?”
"Only one seat, classic Porsche!” he stated with an almost straight face.
"Next right!” I called forward as we approached the Kreuzberg turn and the run in to Altenahr.
"Last sign!” Mand shouted as we approached the garage.
Bum, I was hoping to get the drop on Cav. Well its not over until its over as they say, I do at least know where the sign is, the others will be sprinting blind. A quick glance behind, clear, clunk, clunk and go.
"Go on Gab!”
"Get her Mark!”
The comments were partisan to say the least. It wasn’t a long sprint but it was fast being slightly downhill, I gave one last thrust forward and sat up. Mark whooshed past, another couple of metres and he’d have had me despite my head start, I'm gonna have use every trick in the book to best him when we’re racing.
Moments later we were back at the bahnhof, the rest came in in dribs and drabs, seems other than me and Cav only Mand, Tal and Daz made any effort for the sign. We were already drinking and comparing boasts when the minibus pulled in behind Josh – I wondered where he’d got to.
"Wassup Geordie lad?” Jamie queried.
"Puncture man, just as we came off the main road.”
"Gab beat Cav,” Sal advised him.
"Only just,” the Rocket pointed out.
"She still beat you,” Claire mentioned.
Dad came over to where we were stood by the Hymer.
"Okay folks, good session now if you want to eat I suggest we get the bikes stowed.”
Bike riders and food – there was no need for a repeat request.
"See you later,” I suggested.
"Where are you off to?” Dad queried.
"Home?”
"You not wanting to eat?”
"Yeah,” I allowed, "There’s some ham and pasta in the fridge.”
"Or you can come to Neuweid and join the rest of us for one of Angela’s dinners.”
"I'm in,” Mand enthused.
"If you put it that way,” I added.
“Best get sorted then,” Dad suggested.
There seemed to be a natural selection with the transport, BC in the minibus and Apollinaris in the camper – except for Geth who we’ve sort of adopted after the weekends exploits. The journey to the Rhein and across to Neuweid took best part of an hour, there really isn’t a quick route. Its my first visit to the training hub and whilst we’ve been saying its at Neuweid its not, well its just outside the town, a place called Niederbieber, Neuweid is easier to say!
Anyhow it wasn’t quite what I was expecting, I had some vague ideas of a huge ranch with loads of rooms, what it actually is is an old apartment block which has been used until quite recently for college boarders – I guess a bit like university accommodation.
"Right, showers, dinner in thirty,” Angela told the arriving masses in passable English.
"Er what about us,” Mand queried.
"You can use room eight,” Angela advised.
"Wish I'd known, I don’t fancy putting this stuff back on,” I opined, I was even in just socks as my Keds are locked safely in the kiosk.
"You not got any kit?” Angela posed.
"We weren’t expecting to be coming down here,” I pointed out.
"Your papa! Right, go shower, there should be towels in there, I'll see if I can rustle something up for you to wear. No shoes either Gaby?”
"Erm,” I managed.
"On with you.”
Which is how I found myself wearing Claire’s slippers and other donated clothing from the girls in the house. Not stylish but not smelly either. By the time I reached the dining room the rest were already digging into the buffet that Angela has put on.
"Nice outfit Bond,” Cav grinned.
I shrugged, "We can’t all be runway models.”
There was a bit of chuckling and at least one person choking, Cav is a bit particular about what he wears.
"Its an interesting look lassie,” Jamie offered.
To be honest, that's being kind, a pink T with some glittery inscription topping lime green shorts, well given a choice of this stuff or smelly bike kit what would you do? I headed over to the food and started loading a plate with annoyingly healthy looking food, no Pommes, no würst, or even Frikadel. Instead there was four bean salad, fish, chicken and pasta, urgh!
"What’s that?” Mand queried.
"What?”
"In the tureen thingy.”
I lifted the lid, "Now we’re talking, Stroganoff!”
"This is all a bit healthy,” I suggest after finding a seat at the communal table.
“’s not bad,” Geth pointed out.
"Caroline says we’re on some sort of performance diet,” Sal supplied from down the table, "Pass the water jug Josh.”
"I guess that rules out roast dinners then.”
"Gab does great roasts,” Mand supplied.
"Nothing wrong with this, better than mums cooking,” Daz offered.
"So you work at that café place then Gabs?” Laura enquired.
"Sort of a manager,” I got out around a mouthful of the Stroganoff.
"Manager?”
"My friends parents own it.”
"I can’t imagine working like that,” Claire opined.
"Its not so common in the east,” Gret put in.
"Most of my friends have jobs,” I noted.
The conversation moved on to other things, it was gone nine by the time eating was done and the table mostly cleared. I sort of felt obliged to help with the clear up, its hardly fair to leave it to Angela.
"You two ready?” Dad enquired.
"I guess,” I allowed adding more cutlery to the bucket.
"Already,” Mand sighed.
"It’ll be ten before we get home,” Dad pointed out.
"I guess,” she allowed.
"I'll just have a wee first,” I suggest.
"I'll see you outside,” Dad promised.
"So what do you think?” Dad asked as we headed down to Neuweid and our river crossing.
"What about?”
"The house?”
“’S better than Manchester.”
"You can say that again,” Mand added.
"It’s better than Manchester,” I repeated.
"Well?” Dad pressed.
"Are they really on a diet?” I queried in turn.
"Not as such, just a bit more balanced than some of them are used to, no fry-ups, more green stuff, less red meat, maybe we should get you on it?”
"As if!”
"We’ll have to see how they get on at the house.”
I didn’t like the sound of that, next he’ll be banning cake!
"What’s up with you,” Con enquired as we waited for Mr T to return from the apartment, we’re catching a ride with our bread delivery this morning, we’ll get the Express home later.
"Nothing, just feeling a bit, you know, offish.”
"You want something?”
"Pflaumküchen?” I suggested.
"That’s not what I meant.”
"I know, but it always cheers me up.”
"Whatever.”
Therese chuckled, "Go on Gaby, I'm sure we can afford a slice.”
I brightened immediately, "Thanks!”
Con rolled her seeing orbits.
I hummed along to the radio as we spluttered up the valley.
"Max said you were singing on Friday night,” Con stated.
"When’d you see Max?”
"Sunday, he stopped on the way up to the stables.”
"Right, he never said.”
"So what did you sing?”
"I just sort of joined in for a bit.”
"Not how Max told it.”
"Okay, I did some Nena,” I admitted.
"You have a fine voice Gaby,” Herr Thesing suggested from up front.
"Not really,” I replied, the colour rising in my cheeks.
"I bet you did Luftballons,” Con mentioned before croaking the first line, ”Hast du etwas Zeit für mich?”
I couldn’t help myself, I slipped straight into the rest of the opening stanza,
I ended singing all the way through, which earnt some funny looks when we stopped at the roadworks.
"You sing better than most of that rubbish you girls listen to,” Mr T stated when I finished.
"Its not rubbish.” Con pouted.
"I do not!” I added.
"Yes you do!” both Thesing's told me forcefully.
"It was just a bit of fun,” I mentioned without too much conviction.
And so started another day of culinary non adventure, nothing to see, nothing healthy here!
© Maddy Bell 14.06.17
"You doing anything later?” Con enquired.
I shrugged my shoulders, "Dunno, not given it much thought.”
Well that's not exactly true, I've been giving it quite a bit of thought but there are some things that even your BF shouldn’t know before the event.
"You fancy going to Steff’s?”
"Maybe?”
"We could go after tea,” she suggested.
To be fair, I've not seen Steff for a bit what with one thing and another, not what I was thinking about but there are worse things than chilling with friends, "Er okay.”
"I'll give her a bell then.”
“Frikadel with curry sauce please,” a deep voice requested.
"Moment,” I allowed without turning.
"I've a mind to take by business elsewhere.”
"Er sorry,” I turned to find Con and my boyfriend in hysterics outsides.
"Why you...”
"It was Con’s idea,” he offered in his defence.
"Hmmph!”
"You were humming again,” Con supplied – not sure what that has to do with anything.
"You don’t really want Frikadel with curry do you?”
"Exciting as it sounds I think I'll stick to a Grillwürst.”
“Pommes?”
"You need to ask?”
"Well you could be on some health kick.”
"That’s great coming from the Fritekonigerin1,"Con opined rejoining me inside the cabin.
"Huh, I resemble that remark!”
"Go sit,” I instructed my man. Geez, what am I saying, I sound like some old hausfrau, I'll admit to boy friend but really Gab’s, get a grip!
"Cheers,” Max allowed as I plonked his lunch on the table and took the seat opposite.
I nicked a chip, "So what’re you up to today?”
"Horse and some more whitewashing.”
"More?”
"Gran thinks we should do the whole place.”
"Good luck on that, oh and thanks for telling Con about me singing Friday.”
"No problemo.”
"That’s not what I meant.”
"I didn’t tell her about the bed,” he pointed out.
"Nothing to tell,” I hurriedly put in.
"Yeah, but I didn’t tell her.”
"Why you...” I grabbed his sausage and took a bite, hmm not bad though I say it myself.
"Hey, no fair!”
"What’s it worth?” I dangled the food in front of him.
"Er, a fumble in the bike sheds?”
"Ew! That is so not nice, how about the vineyard?”
"Hmm, doable,” he allowed.
"Done!” I pushed the würst into his mouth, "Tonight?”
"Er o atin?” he queried around a mouthful of processed pork.
"Nah, its usually once a fortnight.” I supplied.
"Tonight it is then, seven?”
"Sounds good to me.”
I smiled to myself, a proper make out session, you can’t count Friday can you?
Another dry day meant we were kept fairly busy all afternoon, we seem to be the go to stop for most of the Dutch Trekkers who are at least more pleasant than those on the coach the other week. It was a bit of a rush to get everything sorted to catch the next Express, we had to run across to the station after hearing the level crossing closing! We claimed a pair of seats and sank gratefully back for the short ride home to Dernau.
"I spoke to Steff,” Con advised.
"Yeah?”
"I'll come round for you about seven?”
“’Kay.” I allowed, "Take it we’re riding?”
"Well duh.”
"Just checking.”
There was something niggling about seven tonight but what? Never mind, I'll no doubt remember later.
"Sugar!” I complained to myself when I finally realised my stupidity as I threaded the ring into my nostril, well he seems to like it, its not as pervy as Boris and those boots is it?
I snatched up my Handy but then was brought up short, who do I cancel? I made the decision and hit the speed dial. The number rang a couple of times before going to voicemail;
"Er hi, Gaby, er something’s come up, can we postpone tonight, call me.”
With a sigh and a shrug I got back to dressing for the evening.
I slung my bag and cardy into the Schauff’s basket before getting the behemoth into motion, Gott it weighs a ton!
"What’s with the look?” Con enquired as I joined her on the driveway.
"Nothing, I can’t stay too long tonight though, I've got to do some reading for my English classes.”
"They’re not for ages yet are they?”
"Couple of weeks,” I told her, "They’re on the calendar at the kiosk.”
"Take you’re word for it, come on then, time’s a wastin’!”
It’s good to see Steff at any time, she might not be my BF but she is my oldest friend here in Germany, well excepting Kat but I didn’t do school with Kat. No, without Steff I probably wouldn’t have ended up being friends with the other Angels. We convened outside on the ‘patio’, I use the name loosely, its really just a paved area with garden furniture at the back of the Oldberg house.
"Hmm,” Con allowed after taking a slug from her glass.
"Tante Anita’s home made,” Steff supplied.
"Who cares, its definitely drinkable.”
"Go easy Con, we’ve got to ride back,” I reminded her.
"Loosen up Gab.”
"I am,” I huffed taking a sip from my own glass.
"So what’s new?” Steff queried.
And so it began – catching up with each others lives that is.
"We so should!” Steff almost squealed.
"What about tents?” I asked.
"We can borrow some,” Con suggested, "Loads of people have tents.”
"No parents,” Steff almost sighed.
"Some hot boys,” Con added.
"Like who?” I enquired.
"There’s bound to be some at the Campingplatz,” Steff told us with some certainty.
"Why do we have to complicate things with boys?”
"Well some of us don’t have boyfriends,” Con stated flatly.
"S’not my fault.”
"Yeah its not her fault she grabbed the hunkmeister Con,” Steff noted.
"A...” was all I could manage as a reply.
I'm not sure where the idea of a camping trip came from but it does sound pretty cool, just us girls, on a campsite partying for a few days, no ‘rents, no timetable, do what we like when we like. Quite when we can fit it in is another matter, we‘ve all got different stuff going on – well we can dream. Anyhow it was time to adjourn, I've got ‘stuff’ to do.
"See you tomorrow.”
"Yeah,” I agreed, "Nite!”
"Tschussie!”
I turned into Zaungartenstraße but instead of heading home I did a U turn and watched for Con to ride out of sight. I waited a minute more just to be sure then headed back out to the turning to the fitness course through the vineyards. And there he was listening to something on his music pod thing.
"Boo!”
"Geez,” he pulled his ear buds free, "You’re late.”
"We got talking, I'm here now though.”
"Well that deserves a reward,” he suggested.
I parked my steed before following him through the gate.
"At least Frau Holdorf and her crazy dog won’t be about.”
"That's a definite plus,” he agreed as I caught up and dragged him to a stop. I reached up and planted my lips on his, now this is what its about. We snogged for a bit before breaking for air.
"Come on,” I suggested tugging him along.
"I wish this could go on for ever.”
"What, laying here in a vineyard?”
He’s so romantic – not!
"No dummy,” I slapped at his arm, "You and me, summer nights, snogging.”
"I can do two out of three,” he suggested turning towards me and moving in for some more tonsil hockey.
"That tickles.”
"What this,” he waggled my nose ring with his tongue – again, before moving to that most delicate of erogenous zones, my ear. Grrr!
"I should get home,” I suggested a while later.
It might be June but it does still get dark at night and at ten thirty its fast closing in. I know we’ve sort of got Dad’s approval but I don’t want to push my, our luck.
"You’re probably right,” he allowed sitting up.
"Well we could probably get another five minutes.”
"Hmm!”
We rode slowly around to Chez Bond where we resumed our snogfest.
"So,” I started between eating Max’s face again, "You coming for lunch tomorrow?”
"Expect so.”
"Curry Frikadel?”
"That’s not funny, I'd best go, someone’s in your kitchen,” he observed.
They’d been there awhile, I saw the light come on just after we arrived.
"Yeah,” I reluctantly agreed finally letting go.
He slipped his helmet on and hit the starter, the tiny motor kicking into life at the second attempt.
"See you tomorrow!”
"Nite liebchen.”
"Nite honeybunch.”
The motor revved and I watched him crawl away into the night.
© Maddy Bell 16.06.17
“Mum!”
"Wotcha kiddo,” she replied as I grabbed her in a hug.
"I didn’t think you were back until next week?”
"Bit of a change of plan,” she admitted waving a bandaged arm.
“Mein Gott, what have you done?”
"Its nothing too serious, nothing broken at least, more of a bad sprain, but less of me, what about you? I'm guessing that was Max outside?”
Sugar!
"Erm yeah,” I allowed.
"Sit, kettles on, I want to hear everything.”
"I'll pick you up at four, be ready please,” Dad told me as I climbed out of the A Klasse.
"Yes Dad,” I sighed.
"Everything is in your kit bag?”
"Yeah?” I suggested, the stuff I borrowed on Tuesday is in there too.
I went round and opened the hatch to retrieve the day’s baked goods.
"Hmm, okay, remember your mother is coming up later,” he called back through the car.
"I remember,” I rolled my eyes as Kris took the trays allowing me to close the hatch.
"Your mum’s home?” Kris enquired as I juggled the keys and a sack of Brötchen.
"Yeah, this flippin’ locks jammed again,” I waggled the key and eventually it turned, "She’s done her wrist.”
"Broken?”
"Nah, just badly sprained, it happens,” I allowed.
The forecast for the day is mixed, mostly dry with occasional showers so with that in mind we put the umbrella things up. Just as well, the first shower hit just as our first group of Trekkers arrived! Thankfully the cloudburst didn’t last long and the road was soon steaming under the glare of the golden celestial orb.
"Hi girls,” Mum greeted when she arrived a little after eleven.
"Hi Mrs Bond,” Con returned, "Did you ride up?”
Sometimes Con! Mum was dressed in full lycra, her white Weltmeisterin jersey a stark counterpoint to her deep tan. In the er, warm light of day she looked like one of those desert adventurers, not just the tan but her hair has bleached out almost white – I guess that’s what weeks riding in southern Europe do for you. And of course she looks fit, I don’t mean in a sexual way, duh, she is my mother, no, I mean in the honed sports person sort of way.
"I might not be fit to race but I can still ride,” Mum advised.
"You want coffee?” I offered.
"Please love,” she agreed as she peeled off her mitts.
"Go sit, I'll bring it over.”
"Here you go,” I delivered the coffee and a plate bearing a slice of apple torte.
"I'll get fat.”
"Not likely,” I stated, "There’s more fat on a string bean.”
"So daughter mine, what are you doing Saturday?”
"Saturday? Dunno, why?”
"I was thinking we could go shopping?”
"Really?”
"Well I need some new stuff and I'm sure you could do with some stuff?”
Now come on, who could turn down an offer like that?
"Just us?”
"That’s what I was thinking.”
"What about Mand?”
"Going to the velodrome with the BC crowd, I already checked.”
"Velodrome?”
"Don’t worry, you aren’t missing out, you’ll get to go next time, your Dad wants to assess them all in a controlled environment.”
"In that case, yes please.”
"Okay, its a date, looks like you’ve got some customers.”
"Er right, see you later?”
"I guess so kiddo.”
"Just saw a really hot looking girl on a bike just now, really tanned,” Max opined leaning on the counter top.
"In a white top?” Con suggested.
"Yeah, how did you know?”
"That was my Mum,” I pointedly advised.
"Really? You sure? didn’t look like her.”
"She was only just here,” Kris put in, "Shift so I can wipe that down lover boy.”
"I didn’t think she was home till next week.”
"She had an off in Catalunya, she was there when I got home from Steffi’s,” I emphasised.
"Oh right,” for once he actually caught on to my hinting.
"She does look pretty buff,” Con stated.
"Con!” I complained. The last thing any child wants to hear is that their parent is, well not looking like a parent should.
"Well I hope her daughter turns out that hot!” Max added.
“Max!” we all three chorused.
"Just saying, I'll er just sit over there shall I?”
The thought that my boyfriend thinks my Mum looks ‘hot’ is a bit disquieting to say the least although I have to admit, you wouldn’t think she’s forty next birthday.
"You never said about the velodrome Saturday,” I mentioned to Dad as we headed over to Neuweid.
"You can come if you want,” he suggested.
“Mum’s taking me shopping.”
"Which reminds me, Sunday.”
"What about it, the Three Countries right?”
"Three Countries?” Mand queried.
"Yeah, it starts in Germany then goes through Luxembourg and into Belgium and back,” I supplied.
"Er yeah,” Dad agreed, "How upset would you be not to ride?”
"What? I won last year!”
"I know,” he allowed, "Hear me out please.”
"But?”
"Gab, luv, the organisers don’t want girls riding this year, I've argued with them but they’re adamant, lads only.”
"They can’t do that can they?” Mand asked.
“’fraid so.”
"But what about equality? We rode last year,” I pointed out.
"You were on a boys licence and they turned a blind eye to Ron but a full squad...I'm afraid its their choice, we might not like it but that's the reality.”
"So we’re not racing then?” I sighed.
"I didn’t say that, there’s a Kirmes1 in Wuppertal which I thought we could do.”
“all of us?”
"No, Caro’s taking the lads over to the Three Countries still so it’ll just be the girls.”
"Hmmph! So instead of a proper race we get to play on a tiny circuit.”
"Sorry kiddo, if I could change things I would, there’s nothing else you could sensibly done without another long drive and I don’t want a repeat of last week.”
"Guess its Wuppertal then,” I sighed. Sometimes it sucks to be a girl.
As a result of the change to the weekends programme, the lads had already departed for a long session through the Westerwald so it was a reduced group of seven girls who set off up the Wiedtal. For the first few K we rode piano, its a pretty steady gradient and we held a comfortable twenty five kph pace. Once through Waldbreitbach though Dad had us start Fartlek’s, you know, that sprint and rest thing, we took turns at that up through Roßbach.
“’S warm,” Sal allowed as we waited for Dad to signal the next escapee.
"Bit humid,” I allowed.
"Bit different to the Pennines eh?”
"Bigger, these hills go all the way from Belgium to Kassel.”
"Is that far?”
Well she wouldn’t have the references, “few hundred kilometres I guess.”
"Wow.”
Paarp!
Gret sprinted off the front, time to concentrate, another paarp and we set off in pursuit.
We kept up with the set piece stuff most of the way up to Neustadt then left the river at Peterslahr to start a more varied route through the lanes back south rejoining the Wied at Waldbreitbach where we retraced our outward route back to our start point. My computer reckoned it was sixty six kilometres, not a bad run out and the mostly easy terrain meant our average wasn’t far off twenty eight, the Kirmes on Sunday will be similar in both duration and distance although the speed may be higher – depending on the field.
“Ah, back before the lads,” Angela beamed, "Get showered, food’s nearly ready.”
We were somewhat earlier than last time, a shorter ride and no hour long commute afterwards so it was barely seven thirty when I bounced into the dining room.
"Someone’s keen,” Angela mentioned.
"You know me,” I grinned, “more rabbit food?”
"Its not rabbit food, there’s turkey escalopes tonight.”
"No Pommes though,” I sighed as I started to load my plate from the buffet.
"Off the menu I'm afraid.”
"You heard from Ron?”
"She rang while you were out, she’s riding some Grand Prix thing near San Sebastian on Sunday.”
"Cool, you heard about Mum?”
"Yeah, hope she’s okay?”
"Seems to be,” I allowed, "Say hi to Ron when you speak again.”
"You can tell her yourself, the rest of the team are home next Wednesday.”
"It seems weird, Ron being away.”
"There are lots of things different now,” she agreed.
Dad came hurrying into the dining room, "Where’s Angela?”
“Kitchen I think,” Gret supplied.
He hurried through and a moment later Angela dashed through in the other direction.
"What’s up?” I enquired as Dad followed.
"There’s been an accident, I'm taking Angela now, can you guys look after yourselves?”
"What?”
"Who?”
"How?”
Well you’d expect questions wouldn’t you?
"Ready Dave,” Angela advised poking her head through the doorway.
"Gab, you got your Handy here?”
"Course.”
"Ring your mother to fetch you and Amanda, I'll ring as soon as I know what’s happening,” and then he was gone.
A moment later there was a spray of gravel kicked up as he set off at speed.
“Mum?”
"What's up kiddo? When are you home?”
"Er there’s been some sort of accident.”
her voice dropped, "Your Dad?”
"No he’s fine but he said you should fetch me and Mand.”
"Sugar,” Mum allowed, "Right, I might need some directions when I get to Neuwied, I'll call.”
“laters,” I ended the call and slipped my Handy into the back pocket of my Capri's.
"She coming?” Mand enquired.
"Yeah.”
"Wonder what’s happened?” Claire mused pushing her now forgotten food around her plate.
"Whatever it is there’s nothing we can do,” Sal observed.
"We can clear up this stuff,” Tal suggested, fear etched on her face.
"He’ll be okay,” I told her, my fingers mentally crossed.
Its times like this your own mortality comes to haunt you, incidents like on that training ride the other week are thankfully rare but I guess the potential is always there, think about it too long or hard and you get paranoid. No, for now there’s nothing any of us here can do.
Maddy Bell © 10.06.17