"I'll catch you up.”
“’Kay,” the young woman agreed.

Jen watched her daughter sashay, yep that's the word, sashay along the crowded walkway. No barging or dodging for Gaby, it was if she had a repel field around her, other shoppers just moved aside, even apologising when they did delay her progress. Was this really the awkward but enthusiastic child she and Dave had nurtured for the last sixteen years.

The poise, the walk, where does a sixteen year old learn that stuff, heck I'm nearly forty and can’t pull that off. Oh she can look and act like any other teen girl but even that picture from the gig that Juliette sent me, its not a boy or even a girl, no its a woman, a beautiful and confident woman up on that stage.

More than that, it was most definitely a young woman, not the slightly effeminate boy they’d both thought they were nurturing. Both she and Dave had beaten themselves up over that, it was Jen’s Mum who was the sound of reason on that count. It wasn’t so much they’d enforced a macho upbringing on the child as much as they’d been fairly ambivalent to any girlishness.

Their child’s friends had probably done more on that score than her parents, even as the doctors started hinting at the truth they’d not taken a particularly positive stance. But despite all that, the young woman, most definitely a woman not girl, walking ahead has turned out pretty well. Jen still felt some guilt at not being there for her daughters, maybe things might’ve turned out differently if she’d not been gallivanting around the globe but you can’t live on what if’s, you have to use what you get.

"Mum, what are you up to?” the youngster called back.
"Er just sending your Dad a text.”

I waited for Mum to catch up, she doesn’t get a second look despite being a double World Champion which isn’t really very fair.

"Finally.”
"I'm sorry if I held you up your highness,” Mum stated.
"Huh, can’t get the staff these days,” I hammed.
"No your majesty.”

This little by play turned a passing head or two of course, attention I wasn’t particularly keen on cultivating.

"Lets have a look in here,” I suggested.
Mum looked at the frontage before shrugging, "Whatever.”

‘Here’ was one of the flagship stores, Peek & Cloppenburg, an up market version of C&A. To be honest its not a shop I get into very often, it’s hardly teen queen fashion, try Tally or even H&M, no this is ‘adult’ stuff (not that sort of adult!), proper suits, more classic designs and certainly higher end brands than most of the department stores stock.

"Good morning ladies,” they even have a greeter!
"Morning, we’re looking for lingerie?” Mum suggested.
"Lingerie,” the chap allowed with a slight bow, "If you take the escalator to level two, one of my colleagues will be available to assist you.”
"Thank you,” Mum replied before leading me towards the bank of escalators.

I smiled at the greeter as I passed, exchanging a smile for another dip of his head.

"You don’t get that in Marks & Sparks,” Mum opined as we rode the staircase upwards.
"Its a bit showy.”
"I think that’s the point,” Mater offered.
"I guess.”

We stepped off the escalator onto O2 and we were almost immediately met by another assistant.

"Good morning, I'm Janice, I'll be your sales executive today, if you’d like to come this way please ladies,” she smiled, a twenty something wearing a smart suit and her hair in a neat chignon.

Mum looked at me, I looked at Mum and with a slight shrug we followed our self appointed assistant towards the undies. I've got better at these places but I still feel a bit embarrassed amongst all the frills and lace and as for the more er decorative stuff. The girls seem to take great delight in dragging me into Ann Summers in Bonn – crotchless knickers? Really, doesn’t that defeat their purpose? No such dodgy stuff in here, no this stuff is for the more discerning customer.

I hope Jules appreciates the deprivations we had to go through to get her birthday present! I'm not sure who they thought we were but after all their efforts, including another girl modelling stuff for us, we sort of felt obliged to buy something or things. So apart from Jules silk pyjamas and wrap Mum ended up with a sexy teddy and Max might get to see the lacy set I bought like never! I can’t believe how much we spent.

"So where to now?” Mum enquired as we exchanged unspoken er greetings with the door greeter as we left the store.
"Lunch?” I suggested, its been a long time since brekkie.
"Could do with losing these bags first.”
"I'm sure they’ve got one of those left shopping places in here somewhere.”
"Not a help if its too far,” Mum mentioned.
"There’s a board over there,” I advised spotting some other shoppers checking out said plan.

Turns out we were almost directly above said facility so we deposited our bags and started the search for lunch.

"How’re your feet?”
"Okay,” well to be honest they’re a bit sore but I'm not gonna let Mum know that am I?

I would’ve been content to’ve hit the food court, you know, queue up forever for some dubious food served in a polystyrene box then search for the elusive free table for fifteen minutes. But Mum had other ideas so here we are in the calm interior of La Concha, an Italian place with an interior no real Italian restaurant would recognise. Think of just about any Italian cliché and the designers have incorporated it into the décor.

"Laydeez,” our server returned with our drinks, inadequate glasses of ‘home made’ lemonade, "Are you ready to order?”

Mum looked at me with the question on her face.

"Er sure,” I allowed, "I'll have the Macaroni Pollo al Forno with the three bean salad.”
"Si, madame?”
"The Risotto with a green salad,” Mum supplied.
"Any starters?”

He’s got to be kidding.

"No thank you,” Mum advised.

He collected our menu’s and departed.

"Enjoying yourself?”
"I guess,” I allowed.
"We can look for those shoes this afternoon.”
"You already got me those undies.”
"And?”

Well I guess I'm not going to argue with free stuff.

I shrugged, "Okay.”

I loaded more chicken and pasta onto my spoon, “do you ever think about stuff like Thursday?”
"The accident?”
"Yeah,” I confirmed before spooning my food into the receptacle.
"Sometimes,” she allowed, "You can’t dwell on it too much or you’d never ride, I take it you have?”
I finished my mouthful, "Well its not like I've not had my fair share of spills is it?”
"A few,” she agreed, "It’s a dangerous occupation, we know that, as parents me and your Dad know that, but crossing the road is dangerous, wet floors are dangerous, there’s only so much we can do to mitigate that element of bike riding.”
"I guess.”
"You thinking of hanging up your wheels?”

Am I? Give up on something that has been so much of my life since – well forever. there’s always been bikes at our house, Mum’s, mine, even Dad and the Dark One have had a dabble, we used to go to York every year when I was small and of course there was Mum’s and then my racing. And for why? On the chance that I'm involved in a thousands to one incident?

"Well no, nothing like that.”
"Gab love, we wouldn’t think anything less of you if you did, just because I've made it my life doesn’t mean you have to.”
"So you’re alright with me becoming a pole dancer?”
"I guess we’d be a bit disappointed but if its what you wanted to do we’d support your decision. Your pasta’s going cold.”
"Er right.”

"So where do we find these shoes of yours?” Mum enquired as we returned to the clamour of the CentrO walkways.
"Er not sure, they were in a magazine.”
"Not helpful, what are we talking? Runners, sandals?”
"Er they’re heels.”
“Kids,” Mum mumbled, "Come on, lets go find these wonder shoes.”

Well you know what its like, you have a set idea what you’re looking for, in this instance the footwear I'd taken a shine to was a pair of black patent heels with an open vamp and a thin T bar to an ankle strap – oh and pointy toes. So of course we found shoes with various combinations of the features, wrong colour, too low, round toe, too many straps, not enough straps. I'm pretty sure Mum was getting a bit fed up to put it mildly although we did divert briefly when she spotted a summer frock she fancied for herself.

"One more shop, please? I promise we can give up then.”
"One more,” Mum agreed, "Then I need coffee before we head home.”
"I'll buy,” I suggested.
"I said yes already.”
"Thanks!” I allowed giving her a quick hug.
"So where to Princess?”
“P&C?”
"They do shoes?”
"Think so.”
"Go on then.”

We knew what to expect this time, it was a bit disappointing that the footwear department didn’t employ models like in lingerie but I suppose its not quite as simple.

"And what would Madame be looking for?”
"My daughter is looking for a specific shoe,” Mum advised Angela our footwear person.

I reeled off what I was in general terms, looking for.

"What size please?”
"These,” I indicated my beige heels, "Are thirty fives.”
"I think we may have something Miss, if you’ll excuse me a moment.”

She departed and I eased my feet free from their torture.

"Sounds hopeful,” Mum proposed.
"Er yeah,” I agreed as I rubbed at my toes to get some life back in them.
"Sore?”
"Okay I admit it, they are a bit.”
"I thought you’d have cried off by lunchtime.”
"Yeah well.”

Angela returned bearing not just one box but about six.

"I've brought a size up and down as well as the thirty five and there are two heel heights, eight and twelve,” she advised as she started to unwrap the first shoe.

Why didn’t we look here before?

Maddy Bell © 07.07.17