Gaby Book 18 - Summery

 
“You’re getting to be a right Tante,” Pia moaned, “I swear if I hear one more sentence about that flippin’ cabin.”
“Imagine what it’s like at home,” Mand added.
“A-aaa,” I managed.

Maybe I have been going on about it a bit but like it’s cool isn’t it?

“You three coming in or what?” Hannah suggested.

It’s less than a fortnight to the competition at Phantasialand, we could really do with more than one more session. Perhaps it was a bit ambitious to introduce the new moves but it really could make a difference to our competitiveness.

“What you thinking Coach?” Han enquired as I watched another run through the tumbles.
“We need more practice.”

Lisse landed heavily on her bum to emphasise the point.

“Uh huh,” she agreed, “bit late to book the Klub though.”
“Most of the girls have finished school.”
“And?”
“Well we could just meet in the park each day,” I suggested.
“During the day? Some of us have jobs and lives away from the Klub.”
“We can cope without you at every session, we only need the deck.”
“That's nice I must say.”
“Sorry, that didn’t come out right, but you know what I mean, we don’t really need more than a flat space, the weather’s fine at the moment so we could do it in the park during the day.”
“Stop before you dig as deeper hole.”
“Er okay.”
“Best see what the girls think,” she suggested.

In the end it was agreed that we’d meet in the Altenahr park, just up through the tunnel each afternoon - not fixed exactly, not everyone can get every day but there should be enough to make it worthwhile. Mand’s a problem but we’ll work on her bits at Chez Bond, it’s all pretty much on the ground stuff.

“You not at the cabin today?” Dad enquired eyeing my appearance.

You don’t go to Eloise Couture in jeans and a T, I've learnt from experience I can tell you. So I've opted for a summer frock, I'll take a cardi of course but I've put on a pair of hold ups – Gertie doesn’t do bare legs and it’s a bit warm really for tights. She’ll expect heels of course, there’s no way I'm wearing them to ride down but my ‘wedding’ shoes are in my bag – it’s trainers for now.

“I did say, I need a dress for the wedding.”
“Wedding?”
Gott, he can be so dumb at times, “I did tell you, Serephena, next month?”
“That wedding, haven’t you got enough dresses?”
“Duh!”
“I guess not,” he allowed, “don’t forget training this afternoon.”
“Mand doesn’t get home till at least sixteen,” I pointed out.
“I suppose you’re going to that fancy place in Ahrweiler?”
“For a start,” I agreed,” we might go on to Bonn later."
“Well don’t go spending all my money.”
“No, Daddy,” I sighed.
“You going with Connie? You need a lift, I have to go to the office today.”

It would solve what to do with the bikes if we go to Bonn.

“Cool, I'm meeting Con at half nine.”
“I'll pick you up about ten to ten from there then.”

“You aren’t wearing those are you?” Con queried seeing my trainers.

She wasn’t gonna be buying a dress or anything of course but she was dressed smarter than usual in a skirt and top.

I patted my bag, “Heels.”
“That’s surprisingly organised for you.”
“Well I hate putting on those shop shoes, you don’t know whose feet have been in them.”
“I know what you mean, I don’t like wearing yours.”
“When have you ever worn mine?” Then it dawned on me, she never has, her feet are several sizes bigger than mine.
“Almost got you,” she chuckled, “looks like your dad.”

I looked outside and indeed our Mercedes was at the kerb.

“Got everything?” Dad enquired.
“I'll just change my shoes,” I told him as I dug in my bag for the heels.

It’s easier to put them on sat in the car, my hose meant I could just pull my trainers off, slip into the heels and do up the ankle straps without resorting to too much contortion-ism. Of course you have to mind your head on the door frame when you stand up, I gave myself a right whack a few weeks back after Mart’s party when I forgot how much taller they made me.

“Don’t be too late,” Dad instructed.
“I'll have her back before pumpkin time,” Con volunteered.
“Bag?” Dad hinted, passing it over to me.
“Thanks, Dadikins, see you later.”
He rolled his eyes, “Later.”

We waited for him to pull away before crossing the Ring to the gate into the Altstadt, it’s always a bit weird wearing heels after a break so I gripped Con tightly until we were safely over the road. At ten most of the shops are only just opening of course, there’s not many peeps about, the council guys were still watering the hanging baskets and flower beds. We walked, well Con walked, I clopped up to Marktplatz then down the side road to Eloise Couture.

Ding, ding, ding – the over door bell announced our arrival into the Ahrtal’s oldest, most exclusive ‘boutique’.

“Moment!” Gerta’s voice sang out from the fitting room area.

I'm sure I've told you about this place before, it’s definitely old skool, no artful displays, just a couple of rather dated mannequins in the window, the stock hung on rails or stored in drawers. That doesn’t mean the stock is old – far from it but if you want street fashion you’ll need to go elsewhere, you come here for classy, designer stuff. It certainly isn’t your normal teen haunt.

We giggled at the ‘old ladies’ foundation wear, Con going as far as holding one of those solid looking all in one things up to herself.

“Oo, very sexy.”
“Of course darling,” she hammed, “you need a firm grip on your wobbly bits.”
“And you’ve got plenty of those,” I giggled, well I couldn’t keep a straight face.
“Darling,” she pouted.

“Ladies.”

Oops, the dra... I mean Gerta. Con quickly hung the undergarment back on the rail and followed me back towards the centre of the shop.

“Erm, good morning.”
“Fräulein Thesing, von Strechau.”

Why does she insist on calling me von Strechau? she knows my name’s Bond but every time I come she calls me von Strechau.

“What is that on your head?”

On my head? I've got a couple of barrettes holding my bangs out of my face, but that's all. I patted around in case something had inadvertently got caught up, it’s not unheard of, I only found out I'd plaited a pair of knickers into my hair when Frau Dürst told me after registration.

“That, that, pink.”

Pink? Oh she means my Barnet.

“Um, hairdressing phoo bar.”
“Phoo bar?”
“The salon dyed it by mistake,” Con supplied the translation.
“It matches my prom dress,” I added.
“But not however your outfit for the wedding.”

How the? I swear she must be some sort of mind reader, I only found out the other day, it’s hardly public knowledge but not only does she already know, but she’s already got me dressed.

“It’s growing out,” I suggested.
“I somehow doubt that will be sufficient in four weeks,” she sniffed in disdain. “I see you are however dressed for the fitting, come on through, Dotty is just finishing the alterations.”

Alterations? I haven’t even seen whatever it is, let alone tried it. We trooped through into the changing room, Gerta went on to fetch this, this outfit, Con helped me out of my dress leaving me stood in lingerie and heels.

“Posh pants!”
“Some of us don’t need Oma knickers.”
“Huh! Geez, Gab, you didn’t half catch the sun last week.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. I'm quite fair skinned but if I avoid burning I do tan quickly. Last week’s trip to the pool left me with a deep enough tan that I look like I've got my white bikini on when I haven’t. Which is better than the usual bike rider’s penguin pallor.

Gerta returned and hung a couple of garments up.

“You’ve put on weight,” she stated.
“Only a quarter kilo.”
“Hmm, you’ll need a full slip.”
‘Granny’ Con mouthed at me, well that deserved a tongue poke.
“Girl, help her with this,” the Dra—Gerta ordered Con, this being a plain white slip which fell about mid thigh.

By the time it was tugged into place Gerta had the dress puddled on the floor for me to step into. I had to agree that my hair would clash somewhat with the predominantly pale yellow frock, a somewhat form fitting jobbie with a wide white collar and no sleeves.

“Turn,” I was instructed.

I was seemingly easily zipped up before my couturier started tugging behind me. I gave Con a questioning look which by reply had a ‘don’t know’ shrug.

“Stand up straight.”

I thought I was however I pulled my shoulders back and tightened my stomach. Moments later I felt some constriction around my middle, constriction that felt like, no surely not.

“Corset?”
“Don’t be silly girl.”

Well it feels like a corset to me.

Gerta finished her tugging and stood back, “hmm, we can sort the hair with the Perücke, you have yellow shoes?”
Have I? “Not sure; I can get some.” What’s she on about, Perücke?

She moved aside letting me see my reflection in the large floor standing mirror. It was certainly er unusual, definitely tailored and clearly more fitted from below the bust to the hips. I turned to check out how big my bum looks – geez, enormous!

Well okay not enormous but the ‘not corset’ certainly emphasises my waist and er, posterior. Not badly but I can’t say that I'm that keen, make that hate this, this abomination.

“Not happening.”
“Not happening?” Gerta spluttered.
“Exactly that, there is no way I'm wearing this.”
“Told you so,” a cheerful voice, that of Dottie drifted from the back room.

Con giggled which set me off.

“Try the other one, Gabrielle,” Dottie suggested joining us in the dressing room.

Maddy Bell © 05.01.17