Gaby Book 28  Balancing Trick by Maddy Bell Copyright© 2023 Madeline Bell

 
I must admit that I sort of went through Monday on autopilot, my thoughts as much on the upcoming travel as ‘Management of Assets’, the current subject being taught by Lisbet. Usually when we have a trip its something to do with bikes and there will be a build up of preparations with all the expectation of the racing or whatever. This trip is different, no bikes for a start, no team mates to share it with, just the family, well Boris, Jules’ other half is coming but I guess he is family, sorta.

The whole dynamics are different, obviously Dad’s not his usual ebullient self, even at the race on Saturday there wasn’t the usual spark. Mum has sort of stepped up instead, I guess she has had experience of losing a parent even if it was a long time ago. It all seems a bit strange, remote, well I suppose we are like seven hundred kilometres away as the crow flies.

Its more than that though, I can’t really put my finger on it but whatever it is I hope things will get back to how they were after this week.
 

"Gab, woo hoo, anyone at home?” Mand queried whilst waving a hand in front of my face.
"Eh?” I allowed batting her hand away, "Wassup?”
"Are you coming to Cheer tonight?”
"Course, why wouldn’t I be?”
"No reason I guess, we do need to leave in like ten minutes though.”

My two working brain cells engaged.

"Sugar, I need to get changed!”
"Finally!” Mand allowed.

Our pair of Mofas whined earnestly all the way up to the Tanzklub, the volume seemingly at odds to our speed of progress. Despite that we arrived a few minutes late, everyone was already inside, even the last ‘dad’s taxi’s’ were gone. I hate being late, okay I’m not the greatest time keeper but I never intend to be late, some people seem to treat timeliness as a sport, for me it’s just a consequence.

"I wasn’t sure you were coming,” Han mentioned in greeting.
"Said I would be, and here I am.”
"So everything go okay yesterday?”
"I guess, what about you guys, third place!”
"We couldn’t’ve done it without you or Amanda.”
"Mand I can understand but me? I wasn’t even there.”
"That’s where you are wrong, you were the one who did the choreography, the one who’s been pushing everyone to do better.”
"You do at least as much,” I suggested.
"I do technical, you do creative, its creative that got us the prize, the technical just helps.”
"A lot,” I put in.
"Well not enough yesterday, everyone did their best but some of the other squads were really sharp, that’s where we lost out.”
"If you say so, in which case we’d better hone our performance, see what I did there, hone, sharp?”
"Geez Gab, stick to the singing, I think Schöneberger has anything to worry about.”
"Ha, ha.”
"Anyway, I should’ve guessed you be here.”
"Go on, why?”
"Well there’s cake afterwards to celebrate,” Han chuckled, "You’d never miss some torte.”

I could be quite miffed with that assumption but honestly, she’s one hundred percent right!
 

"Gab, Gabee?”
"What?” I snapped back.
"You’re doing it again,” Mand informed me.
"Doing what?”
“Zoning out? So do you want regular or double pepperoni?”

We were in Sunshine Pizza, of course, being Monday its pizza for supper.

"Er regular with olives please Joachim,” well of course we know the guys in the shop, we’re here at least once nearly every week.
"Mixing things up eh?” he replied.
"Just fancied a change,”
"So, one Hawaii, pepperoni with olives and an American hot, eighteen fifty.”
"It’s usually straight eighteen,” I queried.
"You don’t usually have the olives,” he pointed out.
"Whatever,” I handed him the twenty that Mum had given me and got a two coin back. “ I thought you said…”
"Shush, don’t let Mario know, you know what he’s like. So, fifteen minutes okay?”
"Fifteen minutes.”

Of course we go through the same pantomime every week, well unless Dad’s phoned it through in advance.

"So you okay now?” Mand asked as we sat, perched on the Mofas to wait for our food.
"Ish.”
"It’ll be better after,” she told me.
"I hope so, I’ve not seen Dad like this since Mum’s cancer scare.”

I never want to revisit any of that mess again.

"He’ll be fine.”
"But what if he’s not?”
"He will be so stop wittering on, you’ll make yourself ill.”
"Why didn’t you say there was gonna be cake tonight?”
"Never gave it a thought,” Mand admitted.
"Some cyclist you are!”
"In case you’ve forgotten I’ve been a cheerleader yesterday and tonight.”
"And of course, cheerleaders don’t eat cake.”
"Well not in the prodigious amounts you do, how you finished that second slice I’ll never know.”
"Well I couldn’t let it go to waste could I and I only had a frikadel sandwich for lunch.”
 

Maybe because it was closer or perhaps I reached an emotional plateau but Tuesday actually felt better than Monday had. Leastways I was a bit more with it at college.

"I could still come if you want,” Max offered as he walked me the few metres from Dernau Bahnhof to Chez Bond.

On the one hand it was good of him to offer, I mean it’s hardly a dream date is it, your girlfriends Oma’s funeral, but it would complicate things, There would be questions asked, questions that I don’t want to even think about at the moment. No, it’s best to not go down that avenue.

"Thanks for the offer,” I told him, "But I’ll be okay, honest.”
"Ring me when you get there?”
"If I get a chance.”
"Well you know where I’ll be.”

We reached the house and we did what any teens would.
 

"You two coming in or giving the neighbours a show?”
"Jules!”
"I should go,” Max suggested.
"Don’t you dare,” Jules told him, "Boris needs rescuing from the rents and you are It.”
"Never argue with an expectant mother,” I told him as we started up the steps to the house.
"How would you know? Your not?”
"Miracle birth or what, its a girl thing.”
"I’ll bear that in mind.”
"And it goes double as its twins.”
"Poor Boris.”
"Poor Boris what?” my sister queried as we reached her.
"Er, getting erm, parented?”
"Hmm.”

"Thought you weren’t coming up till tomorrow?” I mentioned once we were inside and Max sent on his rescue mission.
"We weren’t but it was going to be a lot of travelling and very pregnant women don’t travel well.”
"Guess not,” I agreed.
"There you are Gabs,” Mum observed.”
"Here I am.”
"I picked your dress up and some new tights, you’d best try it on just in case.”
"I said I had hose.”
"Well you’ve got more now, I hung your dress on your closet door, you really need to go through that.”
"Yes Mum.”
"Max staying for tea?”
"If you ask him,” I suggested.
"He can peel some potatoes then.”
"Mu-um!”
"Come down when you’ve got the frock on, I need to see what it looks like.”
“’kay, come on Jules, you can give me a hand.”
"Right with you sis.”
 

Of course, whilst in theory trying on the dress was simple enough, in practice it meant changing my BH, doing something with my hair, finding a suitable bag – well it wasn’t straightforward.

"Mum was right.”
"Yeah?” I queried digging through my lingerie for the right bra.
"You really do have a lot of clothes.”
"Your point?”
"I bet you never wear half of them and I bet you’ve got plenty that no longer fit.”
"Mebbe,” I allowed, "Aha, there you are my beauty!”
"Oh my god, you’ve still got that costume you wore to the school dance in year ten.”
"I was in year eight, haven’t you got yours?”
"Think it went to the charity shop when we came to Germany.”
 
It was fully fifteen, no twenty minutes before I followed Baby Bump back downstairs.

"Mum?” I called from the hallway, well I didn’t want to risk getting food on my dress did I?
"Coming,” she called back before appearing in the doorway drying her hands.
"Well?”
She sighed, "I wish I still had your figure.”
"Well you can’t have it, I need it, you’ve got your own very nice one.”
"But yours is better.”
"Not really, it’s just newer,” I smirked, "So will I do?”
"You’ll do, what shoes are you wearing?”
"These?” I suggested pointing to my feet shod in a pair of patent ballet flats.
"Really? Hate to tell you this daughter of mine, but you look about twelve in those.”
"I was going for practical, they’re really comfortable.”
"What about those ridiculously expensive heels you conned me out of?”
I gave a deep sigh, "I’ll see what I can find.”

Another trip to my eyrie recovered both my ‘best’ stilts and a second pair with a bit less elevation.

"So," I told Mum, "These or these?”
"Try them on.”
“’kay.”

I put the silly stilts on first, let me tell you, anything with more than ten centimetre heels with my little feet means you really are stood on your toes. I have worn them all day once, my feet were in agony!

"Hmm, you look like you’re on the pull,” Mum hmm’d, "Try the others.”

Ten centimetres is still quite tall but compared to the taller shoes, they were so much easier to stand and walk in.

"That’s better,” see if you can rub some of those scuffs out a bit.”
"Where?”
"Around the heels.”
"They’re black, no one’s gonna notice.”
"I have,” she pointed out.
"Yes Mum.”
"And change before you do.”
"Yes Mum.”
 

Dinner was somewhat more ornate than we usually have during the week, multiple veggies, roast taters, Yorkshire puds and roast lamb. The plus for me was that I was only in charge of the puddings, gravy and mint sauce, Mum having done the rest – apart from potato peeling. With seven of us, we were of course using the dining table and Dad broke out a bottle of white.

It felt a bit weird, a Sunday roast on a Tuesday and even weirder that all the family were here. I use the term family loosely, strictly speaking Mand and Max aren’t and Boris is only just but you know what I mean. We all knew why we were gathered like this but somehow we managed to avoid the elephant lurking in the corner and had a pleasant meal.

"I’ll see you on Friday then?” Max asked as we said our farewells, well a short bit of tonsil hockey never goes amiss right?
"If I get up.”
"I can give you a wake up call, say five o’clock.”
"Don’t you dare!”
"Hope it all goes okay and have a safe journey.”
"Yeah,” I allowed, "Not exactly looking forward to it.”

He pulled me into another embrace, another kiss, shorter but still appreciated.

"Have to go, I’ve got some college stuff I need to do tonight or I’ll be in strife tomorrow.”
"Last minute as usual?”
"Well I thought I had plenty of time this evening.”
"Sorry for getting you dragged in like that.”
"I wasn’t complaining.”
"Go on then, I’ll see you Friday.”
"Tchuss.”
"Tchussie!”

I stood watching until with a last wave, von Strechau was out of sight.
 

The senior squad weren’t racing until next weekend so Dad had organised Mike, the team mechanic, to take us to the airport, Düsseldorf this time, in the team bus. The flight was at two thirty, at nine thirty we pulled out of our drive to start the hundred or so kilometre trip north. There wasn’t much in the way of conversation on the way up and of course the theoretical hour’s journey stretched with some traffic north of Köln and again around Neuss so it was almost eleven when we reached the airport drop off.

"So I’ll pick you up Thursday evening,” Mike told us once we had our bags balanced on a trolley.
"We’re due in at nine,” Dad told him.
"And it’s Köln/Bonn not Düssel, I’ll be there,” he promised.
"Thanks Mike,” Mum told him before giving him a peck on the cheek, "You’re a star.”
"What are friends for eh? Have a safe trip, I’d best move, security are giving me funny looks.”
 

One advantage of not using our own car was that we pretty much now just walked into the terminal, I’ve been through Düsseldorf airport before and if you come from the car parks or even the railway station it’s a right hike with monorails and all sorts, I think it took half an hour last time. Anyway we didn’t have all that kerfluffle this morning and as we were flying with Lufthansa we headed straight to check in to check our bags, not that we had much, the rents were sharing one, as were my sister and brother in law, I was the only person in our party with their own and that was small enough for the cabin even though we checked it.

"We getting something to eat?”
"There’s food on the flight,” Dad told me.
"Probably a manky sandwich.”
"She’s likely right Dave,” Mum put in, "It could be a while until we get another chance for something proper.”
"Fair enough,” Pater acceded.

We didn’t have much, well airport prices even in Maccy D’s are not exactly cheap but a Royale with pommes filled a hole although the coffee was, to say the least, disgusting. As much as anything though it filled some time, we’d barely found seats on the main concourse when our flight was called. Being a smaller airport it wasn’t far to the gate and after only another thirty minutes waiting we were herded aboard the waiting plane.
 

"Talk about the third degree,” I complained as we made our way to the hire car.
"Well you will have a foreign passport,” Jules mentioned.
"So’s Boris and he didn’t get twenty questions.”
"But I’m not so pretty,” he observed.
"Probably confused by your birthplace not being in Germany,” Mum suggested.
"I’m gonna use my ID card on the way back.”

We reached the hire car parking area, Dad pressed the key, a beep and light flash identified our ride, some sort of people carrier.

"Not exactly stylish.”
"Well it was either this or a minibus unless you wanted your sister sat on your lap,” Dad curtly told me.
"I was only saying.”
"Well don’t,” he snapped.

Mum squeezed my shoulder, Dad is certainly out of sorts.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023