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

 
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect, we’ve just been to a funeral and now we are having a party? Well sort of but not.

"There you are,” Uncle Sam needlessly pointed out as we entered the bungalow, "Thought we’d lost you.”
"We stopped for some chips,” Mum told him, "We won’t get a chance to eat until the airport.”
"What time’s your flight?”
"Five thirty,” Dad advised, "We need to be away by three.”
"Wish you could stay longer bro.”
"Would if I could, so where’s dad?”
"Out in the conservatory having his ears chewed off by Aunt Mabel. There’s a bit of a buffet and cold drinks in the lounge, hot drinks in the kitchen, I’d better mingle a bit, catch you before you go?”
"Yeah,” Dad agreed.

"So, what now?” Jules asked as Uncle Sam returned to the gathering.
"Mingle?” Mum suggested.
"Like we know any of these people,” I pointed out.
"Well I’m gonna go talk to dad,” Dad told us.
"Tea anyone?” I suggested.

"There you are,” Aunty Kath stated, "Sam said you were here.”

I had to snerk into my tea cup, I wonder if she and Uncle Sam finish each others sentences.

"Tea?” I offered.
"Best not, they’re already queuing for the loo, and Jules, look at you, how long now?”
"About eight weeks,” my sister told her.
"You should come on through, everyone’s dying to meet you all, bugger, that came out wrong.”

And so we joined the rest of the mourners, doing, what I guess you do at these things, eating, drinking and talking. Me, Jules and Boris were certainly the youngest, although Aunt Kath is only five years older than my sister, which seemed to make us the target for a succession of Nanna’s friends.
 

"I’m pooped,” Jules stated.
"I’ll go ask Gramps if you can go lie down.”
"Thanks Gab.”

I spotted Gramps having his ear bent by yet another older woman, to be honest it looked like she was flirting with him.

"Er Gramps, sorry to interrupt.”
"Gabrielle love, you okay?”
"I am, Jules is flagging a bit, could she lie down for a little while?”
"Of course, you didn’t need to ask, Sarah will have my guts for garters.”
"Erm.”
"Would have I mean, would have,” he had a little sniff, "You know where our bedroom is.”
"Last on the left?”
"When she’s settled come and find me and we’ll go talk in the garden eh?”
"Uh huh.”
 
Whilst a few people had escaped the conservatory for the sort of deck area, that stretched the width of the house, the rest of the garden was empty. Gramps put my arm in his and we walked down to the bottom where there was a sort of arbour where we sat.

"Are you okay Gramps. I mean really?”
"I’ll get by love, I’ve had time to prepare, well we both did, you know, before.”
"Was that woman chatting you up before?”
"Margaret? In her dreams, I’m not interested, your Nanna was the woman for me, I’ll not be replacing her.”
"Never say never Gramps.”
"You’re probably right Gaby but it’s too soon and especially today.”

I could see that look returning to his eyes, the one from earlier, the one that broadcast loss and despair.

"So what do you want to speak to me about?”
"About? Right yes, keep forgetting what I’m doing,” he admitted. "Your Nan, well she could come over as a bit of a stuffed shirt but behind that facade she was as soft as a soft thing, especially where her grandchildren are, were concerned. I know it didn’t seem like it but she’d talk the hind legs off a donkey talking about you girls, if anyone gave her half an excuse.
I bet any of her friends from the bowls club could give you chapter and verse on all the grand kids, especially you and your sister.”

He paused and the familiar smile returned to his face.

"I used to think she hated me for turning out to be a girl.”
"Oh love, she never hated you, don’t ever think that, no, if she had any strong feelings about that they were directed towards your parents for not spotting the obvious, well obvious to your Nanna, and letting things get to where they did. Sarah said right from when you were a toddler that you were more like your sister than any young boy should be. But your parents were adamant that you were a boy, after all you had boy plumbing.”

I coloured up, in the end I was glad to lose that ‘thing’. I’d wanted to be a boy because that’s what I thought I was, what I was told I was. Even when the truth was staring me in the face I didn’t want to believe I wasn’t male.

"Anyway, when you and your sister were born, Nanna, unbeknown to me, set up a sort of trust for each of you.”
"A trust?”
"It’s sort of like a savings account, she put money in each month and then when they mature you get the money, it’ll be on your twenty first birthdays. I’m telling you this now, and it goes no further okay, I’m telling you now because she didn’t do the same for Sam and Kath’s tribes so to avoid arguments later I’m passing it over to your Dad to administer.”
"What about the littlies?”
"Oh don’t worry about them, there’ll be something for them when they’re of age and for your sisters little uns. The difference is, and why we don’t want to make it common knowledge, both you and your sister will have a nice little nest egg, a lot more than the latest arrivals.”
"Oh.”
"In case I don’t get a chance today, I’ll speak to Juliette in the next week or so.”
"So um, how much is a nest egg?”
"Not for me to say, your Dad might tell you, that’ll be up to him. Your Nanna set money aside to see the accounts out to maturity, it will be a significant number.”
"Guess I can wait.”
Gramps stood up, "Come on, they’’ll be wondering where we are.”
"I doubt I’ll be missed.”
 
"Where’ve you been?” Mum asked as I perused the remnants of the buffet. It looked like a plague of locusts had gone through, I’d managed to rescue a sorry looking egg and cress sandwich, a few crisps and a soggy mini sausage roll.
"Talking with Gramps,”
"Oh okay, I’ve brought you and your sister a change of clothes up from the car.”
"Good thinking Batwoman,” I told her with a slight grin.
"Well I don’t think any of us want to be flying in our widow’s weeds, talking of which, where is your sister?”
"Last I saw having a lie down in Gramps bedroom.”
"Okay, so you have a nice chat with Gramps?”
"I guess.”
 

"Glad you could all come,” Gramps told us.

It was five past three, Dad was chomping at the bit to be off, scheduled planes wait for no one. Most of the other mourners had departed when the food and booze ran out, there were just a couple of diehard relatives and my collection of aunts and uncles left.

"We’ll see you in a few weeks Dad,” Mum supplied.
"Can’t wait for you to be Great Gramps,” Jules opined.
"Me either,” Gramps agreed, "Your Nanna would’ve loved being great at something.”
"Dad,” Pater hugged his father close, I’m sure there were more tears shed.

The arrival of Boris with our transport ended the awkward farewells, a final round of hugs and with a last bit of window waving, we were away.
 

From Burnham back to Bristol airport isn’t actually that far, about thirty kilometres, out to the A38 and that’s the navigation done. The conversation in the car was minimal, a direction to Bo near Brent Knoll being about it until we reached our destination, Not that I had a great view, but I was taking in the ‘scenery’, the draggy climb onto the shoulder of the Mendip then down and across a wide valley of green fields before a pretty steep climb up to the airport.

Dropping the car off was easy enough and by four we were checked in for our five thirty flight. Plenty of time but its sods law that if we’d stayed at Gramp’s longer there would’ve been traffic or something to make us late. I think Bristol is even smaller than Düssel yesterday, its certainly less spacious in the terminal, the choice of food outlets more restricted.

"Anyone want a sandwich or something,” Mum asked after we vetoed all the restaurant type places for one reason or another. "Might not be great but I saw fridges in Boots®.”
"I’ll come with,” I volunteered.
"Jules, Boris?”
"Just a cup of tea if you can get one,” my sister requested.
"Boris?”
"Coffee?”
"I’ll get the drinks, there’s a Starbucks® down at the other end, you get the food Mum.”
"Yes milady, anything else milady,” Mum hammed.
"Huh, you just can’t get the staff!”

I tell you all this as I had a longer than expected wait at the beverage outlet, the couple in front wanted different concoctions, something about like oatmeal latte frapecino decaf with hazelnut syrup, sounds terrible, which required more ingredients than you’d think possible for a simple cup of coffee. Mum had long returned to the Bond encampment all four of them looked like they’d dropped a euro and found a cent.

"Sorry I was so long, wassup?”
"The flight is delayed,” Boris advised.
"Bum, how long?”
"Screen just says it’ll update soon,” my sister told me.

Delays are never good, if they get as far as the departure board it usually means it’s gonna be a while. Not much you can do other than wait for news, certainly no point in getting stressed. With the time difference our five thirty departure should land in Germany at eight o’clock local time, an hour to clear the airport and drive home, maybe nine o’clock. Yup even half an hour starts pushing things towards late.
 

Our over priced food and drink was a distant memory before we got called to the gate, it felt like hours but it was actually only forty five minutes. All around us as we headed to the gate, our fellow travellers were on their Handys, no doubt doing the same as Dad, rearranging pick ups and other onward travel. Worryingly there was no plane outside when we got there.

"Mike says he’ll be there whenever, so what’s going on now?”
"No idea,” Mum replied.
"If you can please have your boarding cards ready,” one of the gate staff requested over the murmuring assemblage.

By the conversations around us, most of the passengers were resident in Germany, it has been a bit weird forcing ourselves to use English for the last day or so, I realised we’d returned to using German almost as soon as we left Gramps. Contrary to popular belief, Germans are quite good at queuing, maybe not as good as Brits but a line formed and soon enough they started the boarding procedure.

The lack of plane was resolved as we were herded down to ground level where a couple of buses awaited us. We just squeezed onto the first one which then trundled away from the terminal building, moving us maybe five hundred metres to where our flying machine awaited us. We’d flown Lufthansa on the outbound journey, the return was to be on Ryan Air, oh joy.

No frills airlines, yeah, no comfort, no space, no food unless you pay out silly money – given the choice you really are better sticking to the ‘premium’ brands. But we hadn’t had that choice, Bristol has loads of flights to the Med but anywhere else is just an afterthought, this is the only flight to Germany until tomorrow morning. The plane filled up, it wasn’t at capacity but there weren’t many vacant seats, the doors were closed and by reckoning, an hour late, we set off along the taxi way.
 

I think it’s fair to say that we were all quite weary by the time we had queued for immigration and collected our bags. On the plus side my German paperwork saw me pretty much waved straight through not that the others saw any real hold up. The bags on the other hand, took an age to come through, I reckon they were walking each one individually from the plane!

It was still light when we landed but by the time we left the building it was nigh on pitch black. We only waited a couple of minutes before the Apollinaris bus hove into view.

"We might have to deviate on the way back,” Mike told us as he helped Dad with the bags.
"What now,” Mum groaned.
"Incident on the Friedrich Ebert Brücke according to the radio,” he supplied.
"Great,” I sighed, "I suppose we’ll have to go through the city, more time.”
"Give over Gab, you can really go on about stuff,” Jules griped,
"I’ve got college tomorrow, I’ve got to be up at silly o’clock.”
"Moaning won’t get us home any quicker,” Dad instructed.

Mike soon had us on the Fifty Nine and sure enough the first overhead confirmed that the Five Six Five was closed between two and three, the Friedrich Ebert Brücke.

"Through the centre?” Dad suggested.
"Think we’ll be quicker on the Konrad Adenauer, we miss all those traffic lights in the centre.”
"You’re driving,” Dad allowed.

The good news is that at turned nine thirty there was little traffic on the autobahn and in short order I spotted the twinkling lights of the Post Tower across the river. The inky blackness of the Rhein passed below the Adenauer Brücke, the motorway ended and we were on the main drag into Bonn from the south. We’ve only been gone two days but I felt some comfort in the familiar road furniture, the names, the vehicles even, that just screamed to me, Germany.

Mike was right, this way through, missing the centre, did have relatively fewer traffic lights and soon enough we were out past the University and looping round onto the Five Six Five south of Bonn. It’s a familiar road, if we use the car to get to Bonn this is the road, all of twenty five kilometres, even with the twisty road down through Esch and in a not so fast mininbus, twenty minutes.
 

I awoke with a start.

"What?”
"Were home kiddo,” Mum told me.
"Sleep,” I allowed with a big stretch.
"You were snoring away before we got to the Telekom” Jules mentioned.
"I do not snore!”
"Well everyone else was awake,” my sister stated.
"Give over bickering you two,” Dad told us, "Can you give me a hand with the bags Boris.”

Mike declined the offer of beverage which left the five of us, no six, Manda was only just in herself so had the kettle on by the time we got through the door.

"Good trip?” she asked.
"Apart from the funeral and delayed flight?”
"You know what I mean Bond.”
"Yes Manda, it all went smoothly until the flight back,” Mum told her, "But we’re back now.”
"So you two going back to Heidelberg tomorrow,” de Vreen asked my sister who was now hungry and making short work of a packet of waffle things.
"Not till Sunday, we’re going up to see Bo’s parents and meet up with some friends from college.”

"How did it go at the Stube tonight?” I enquired, curious despite myself.
Mand shrugged, "Same old, it was that tallish blonde girl, she was driving the bus, I’m sure the girl with her was more than just the courier.”
"How do you work that?”
"You learn to spot these things.”
"I thought you were hot for Sophia?”
"A girl can still look, I bet you check out boys other than Max?”
"Do not! Max or anyone else.”
"Ooh, do tell Amanda,” my sister encouraged gleefully.
"Well when we were in Tenerife.”
"Manda,” I groaned.
"I thought you were keen for your bed,” Dad interrupted.
"I was, am but they’re talking about me.”
"About not to,” Jules sniggered.
I sighed, "Whatever, night everyone.”
"Night Gab,” they chorused back.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023