Gaby Book 28 ~ Balancing Trick ~ Chapter *34*

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

 
I’m not sure where the next week went, one minute it was Monday, the next it was Friday afternoon and I was entering Eloise Couture with Mum shopping for something suitable for next weeks funeral. I know, I have a closet full of frocks, I even have one or two in more sombre tones, what I don’t have and neither apparently does Mum, is have anything fit for a funeral. But why Gerta and Dotty’s emporium? Well Mum was rationalising the expense as an investment, as she said, there will be other funerals down the line, me, well if someone else is paying who am I to argue?

The bell had barely stopped its loud clanging before a voice came from the rear of the store.

"Be right there!”
"Danke,” Mum called back.

We gravitated towards the rail of less dressy, um, dresses but to be honest, other than probably black, I hadn’t got the foggiest idea what I was looking for. For some reason, the image in my head was of a below the knee affair topped off with a heavy veil, like something out of Inspector Montalbano. Probably a bit over the top if I’m honest but what do I know about funereal chic?

"Ah, Fraulein Bond,” Gerta boomed in greeting, "And you have brought Mama too.”
"Erm, more like the other way around, hi Gerta.”
"We haven’t seen you for a while.”
"I’ve um, not had the need.”
"When did need come into it?

Okay, she’s kinda got me there but Eloise Couture is hardly geared to students, whatever their budget.

"So I’m guessing there is an occasion now?”
"Funeral,” Mum allowed.
Gerta turned back the cheerful somewhat, "I’m sorry, someone close?”
"My husbands mother,” Mum supplied, "Its in England so we need something that will travel.”
"For both of you?”
Mum sighed, "Yes, I hope they aren’t needed often so something with legs so to speak.”
"And you need them when?”
"We fly out on Wednesday.”
"Well we’d best crack on then eh, go on through to the fitting room, I’ll bring some stuff through.”
 

"What do you think Mum?” I enquired of Mater an hour later.

Mum had been quite easy to sort out, a simple short sleeved, calf length fit and flare affair in black jersey teamed with a short jacket with a bit of brockade decoration. She looked really classy but being shorter – and younger, it was never going to work for me. Instead I’ve been in and out of what feels like dozens of frocks, too long, too short, too fussy, too, well you get the idea.

I think Gerta was getting a bit desperate, I’d exhausted anything ‘off the peg’ and even in a suitable colour which was how I came to be wearing a ‘simple’ sheath affair in bright pink. The fit was great, the length, mid thigh worked for my lack of stature, the only issue was the colour but Dotty assured us she could make a duplicate in black in time frame we have. Its either this or driving up to Bonn in the hope of finding something.

"And you can make it up in time?” Mum asked again.
"Of course,” Dotty confirmed.
"And it’ll be exactly the same as this?” I asked.
"Except in black Gabrielle,” Gerta told me.
"Lets do it then,” Mum conceded.
 

"Well that’s that sorted,” Mum allowed as we walked back to the car, "You’ve got hose I take it?”
"Yeah, pretty sure I’ve got some new in the drawer.”
"Well check when we get back, give me a chance to pick some up if we need to.”
"What about Jules?”

Mum sighed again, she’s been doing a lot of that this week.

"I said I’d get her something but she was adamant she’d do it herself.”
"Do they even make stuff for expectant mothers going to funerals?”
"Bit of a niche market,” Mum proposed, "I’ve said I’ll pay for whatever she gets.”

Fair’s fair.

"You got your dance class tonight?”
"Its not dancing, its Gardetanz.”
"So?”
"Yeah, I’d best go, I need to speak to Han about Sunday.”
"Sunday?”
"Cheer competition at Bonn, its like the regional championships, why?”
"I thought we could have a family day as I’m neither of us are racing.”
"I don’t have to be there.”
"No, no, its fine, daft idea anyway.”
"Really Mum, I don’t have to go, its not like I’m actually in the squad. So what were you thinking of?”
"Nothing fancy, I thought we could go across to Linz, have a ride on the tourist train, get some lunch, that sort of thing.”

I must admit, it did sound more tempting than a sports hall in Bonn with hundreds of squealing teens leaping about. Yeah I know I sort of volunteered to coach the All Stars, which I do enjoy doing, but I don’t get to see a lot of Mum during the racing season – and Hannah owes me after last week.

"I’ll see what I can sort out. What’re we doing for food tonight?”
 

We ended up with soup and sandwiches, nothing fancy, just packet stuff, cream of chicken which went quite well with the cheese and pastrami in the sandwiches. Well there was the promise of supper later. It was a fine evening so rather than Dad’s taxi I used my Mofa to go up to the Tanzklub.

Well, after I stopped at the garage for five litres of fuel. I can’t complain, the thing seems to go forever, well at least two hundred kilometres on a tank of petrol, its only the second time I’ve had to put fuel in.

"Han, can I have a word about Sunday please?”
"Sure, everything all set?”
"Er, well something’s sort of come up?”
"Regarding Sunday?”

Well duh!

"Sort of, I um can’t go to Bonn.”
"Amanda too?”
"No, just me, Mand’s still in.”
"Phew, I thought we were going to be scratching for a stand in number six.”
"After last week, she seems more up for being on the squad. You sure you can cope without me there?”
"The hard work has already been done Gab, you know as well as I that its down to the girls now, whether you are there or not is immaterial at this stage. So what’s important enough to keep you away?”
"Mum,” I told her, "She’s not racing this weekend so she wants us to have some family time.”
"You go for it girl, I know you miss her when she’s away and like I said, we don’t need you physically there.”
"Huh, I could take offence.”
"You know what I mean, I think you need a bit of downtime yourself, you’re always on the go, bike racing, singing, cheer, college, do you ever just relax?”
"Sometimes.”
"If you say so,” she allowed, "Come on, you can fill in for Francine tonight as pennance.”

Well that’s that sorted.
 

Saturday’s race is, what the guys back in England would call a ‘fish & chipper’, a small, local event which back in the day would be ‘sponsored’ by local businesses in the form of vouchers for stuff as prizes. You’d never get rich off the proceeds but you could score a fish supper if you were lucky. Different times I guess, the prizes may now be a few euros rather than food but they are still fought hard, ideal training as they are often all category.

"We ready then?” Dad asked for about the third time this morning, "It might not be far but you still have to sign on and stuff.”
"Yes Dad,” I allowed. Honestly, it wasn’t me who thought my Weltmeisterin skinsuit was a bit much for chasing around an airfield.

It really isn’t that far, maybe forty kilometres down past Maria Laach to Mendig, we get to chase up and down the runway of the Heeresflieger airfield – its all helicopters so the strip of tarmac is hardly used. I’ve raced here before once or twice, its tarmac, almost pancake flat and open, well it is a runway. Anyway, once Dad had all of us herded into the Saab, we set off for the thirty minute drive.

Of course, there’s just me and Mand riding for Apollinaris, the others are doing stuff more local to where they are, I’m sure we’ll get regaled with the details next week. Mum had threatened to ride but decided instead to do a training ride and meet us there for a ride back. It might be an active military base but security didn’t extend much beyond a stop at the gate and some tape blocking roadways off.

I was surprised to see so many riders when we reached the race headquarters, the bright weather of early May had clearly encouraged a huge swathe of the local racing community out on an otherwise quiet weekend. I spotted a couple of Ahrtal Wielersport jerseys in the mix, I wonder if Hen is riding? By my guess there were over a hundred riders milling about on top of the under sixteens who I could see lining up for their own, shorter event.

Dad soon had our Pinarello’s off the roof, tyre pumping and stuff already having been done at home. Mand and I rode over to the bike check and joined the queue, a bit of a novelty for us these days as Dad usually does this bit while we are getting ready. It can be a tense time, essentially its all about safety so a failure here means you might not get to race.

"Next!” one of the team of checkers called.

I wheeled my sparkly steed across, fretting slightly even though I know the bike is perfect.

The chap gave a low whistle, "Nice bike.”
"Its okay I guess, does the job,” I offered as I passed my precious over.
"Takes more than a pretty bike to win races,” he stated as he checked the brakes.
"Will a pretty face help?”
"Not usually, can you lift the back end for me?”

He span it through the gears, they were of course sweet as, a check of the saddle and handlebar’s security and it was done.

"Well its nicely maintained, you do it?”
"Dad,” I admitted.
"Well he obviously knows his stuff, here you go,” he gave me a cloak room ticket, "Take that when you sign on.”
"Thanks”
"Oh, and good luck, never know, a pretty face might help.”

Geez, talk about sexist, I don’t think he meant to be but even so.

"What was all that about?” Mand asked when she joined me a minute or two later.
"Just admiring my bike.”
"Looked like he was admiring you too.”
"Was not.”
"Wanna bet?”
"Okay, maybe he was, its not like I’m interested is it.”
"Like you aren’t interested in Max?”
"That’s different.”

Mand just raised an eyebrow, very double O seven.

We joined the next queue and soon had our numbers, for today Manda is one nine nine and I’m two hundred. Oh, there’s not that many riders, one to a hundred were allocated to the under sixteens, that's still a hundred and there were more behind us, its gonna be quite a peloton out there.
 

"All set?” Dad enquired when we got back to the car.
"Yep.”
"Gab found an admirer,” de Vreen mentioned.
"Mand!” I complained.
"Do I need my shotgun?”
"It was only the guy doing bike checks, said he liked my bike.”
"As long as that’s all he said.”
"It was, honest.”
"Well get your shoes on and get warmed up, you’ve got about forty minutes.”
 

Thirty five minutes later we joined the throng of brightly coloured jerseys and mostly sparkling bikes waiting for the rolling start out onto the tarmac. It’s not a long race, well seventy five kilometres so about two hours I guess, but if past experience is anything to go by, it’ll be eyeballs out from the off. I glanced around the gathering bunch, there were a few jerseys I recognised but I didn’t recognise any of the riders, I guess we normally race in different circles so to speak.

A blast from one of those air horn things set the mass of riders and machines slowly lurching into action, I joined the movement, we were off. There is no game plan for today, no team tactics, survival is the ambition, reaching the finish in contention will be a bonus. I’m pretty sure neither a pretty bike nor pretty face will help with that.

By the time we swung onto the runway, the race was already stretched over about fifty metres, us pair somewhere in the middle with at least fifty, sixty riders ahead of us. It felt a bit like that RTF the other week, a sea of riders of all ages, on bikes everywhere from trusty steel to cutting edge carbon, the two not always matched as you might expect. And no one seemed to care that I was wearing the Weltmeisterin bands, this is grass roots racing at the raw end.

By the time we reached the first turn, there’s a wide hairpin at either end of the tarmac, we were hurtling along close to forty kph, no one, even me, is gonna get much traction in getting off the front. It was quick but sat safely in the middle of the bunch we were pretty much sucked along with little input on our part.

I think when I rode here last the turns were much tighter but with the size of this peloton that would’ve been quite tricky. The downside to the faster turns was a lack of respite, you just keep riding, barely easing off the gas, yep, a race of attrition indeed. We crossed the line at the end of the lap, only forty more to go.
 
We were ten laps in before those driving things at the front took their collective feet off the pedals, they’d been pretty much full gas for twenty kilometres. The race had started to splinter on lap one of course, the less able hanging on for as long as they could before their elastic snapped. There were still at least sixty in the front group but I reckon there were maybe ten smaller groups anywhere up to half a lap adrift.

I am of course used to riding with the lads but here today, Mand and myself are the last females in the front group. Some of the old timers, I mean they had to be at least forty, seemed to twig that we were slightly more accomplished than they thought.

"Bleh!” Mand offered coming alongside me, “’bout time they eased off.”
"Wimp.”
"Am not, so we staying here the rest of the race?”
"Could do.”
"It’ll be a big gallop.”
"And?”
"We’d both have a better shot from a smaller bunch.”
"Some of these won’t make it,” I predicted.
"We could speed that process up a bit, even the odds?”
"There’s nowhere to launch from.”
"If there was?”

She had something up her sleeve, I can tell these things you know.

"Far turn next lap.”

Looks like I’ll be singing for my supper, meta whatever that is. Whatever, I found an energy bar, best refuel now, I might not get a chance later.

Its a tactic we’ve used before, put riders on the front and slow the race then bam, launch an attack. It doesn’t always work and in this field its success isn’t guaranteed but if you don’t try… I followed Mand up towards the pointy end of things, settling about tenth wheel while she slipped towards the front.

No one seemed to notice, well they didn’t react at least when Miss Lockgate took the lead, its not like one person could control the whole race right? It wasn’t much but being closer to thirty than thirty five was all I needed, we reached the turn, Mand stopped pedalling and I launched myself over the top. Yes you need more than a pretty bike to win races but it certainly doesn’t hinder your chances, I slipped it into the eleven and gave it everything as I continued straight down the runway with no traffic ahead for the first time today.
 
Maddy Bell © 15.06.2023