TG Universes & Series:
“Max!” I hissed.
“Shush!” I didn’t want the whole room to hear.
“So what’s up?” he asked again in quieter tones.
“Friday, we’ll be changing into the costumes at the dress shop.”
“Uh huh, is there much to do on Friday?”
“Shouldn’t be, we take the cabin on Thursday, Mart’s dad’s bringing everything down on his trailer so we’ll get it all put together after school, just need your kitchen stuff sorting out and the frilly bits.”
“Could we do that on Thursday?”
“Later on I guess.”
“I’ll talk to the others, so Friday, make sure everyone knows about the costumes.”
“Fraulein Bond,” Frau Dürst started, “when you’ve quite finished.”
Not again! There were titters from around the room.
“That was so funny,” Con mentioned as we headed to Herr Boltt’s room for Geography a few minutes later.
“It was so not!”
“Oh lighten up, Gab.”
“It’s not you everyone’s talking about.”
“I’m not dating Max von Strechau.”
“Neither am I,” I huffed.
“You guys seen Stern?” Brid enquired when we arrived in the lunchroom.
“Not yet,” Con supplied.
Me, I’m not exactly an avid reader of the celebrity gossip mag anyway.
“They’ve got pics from Bonn,” our head of gossip advised.
“The market?” I suggested.
“Sometimes, Gab,” Pia allowed with a shake of the head.
“The wedding,” they all chorused.
“What, oh sugar!”
“It’s not like you’re in many pictures,” Nena noted, “only two more than the bride!”
“Let’s have a look then,” Con demanded.
“It’s alright, Gab, they haven’t named you,” Steff told me.
“And that makes it better?”
Of course I should have thought about the possibility before, especially after the whole ‘who’s that girl?’ business after Munich. I suppose I was lulled into a false sense of security with it being a smaller low-key affair and being rather more involved. And now the spectre of another round of ‘hunt the blonde’ looms.
I couldn’t help myself, I had to look. It must’ve been a slow week; despite the lack of impressive titles marrying or in attendance Analise and Johanne’s (not on Cast list) nuptials scored a full double page spread. I wasn’t hard to spot, just look for the smallest bridesmaid, so there we were on the walk to the Dom, inside, not just at the altar but on Max’s arm getting there and then more afterwards. Apart from a couple of phone pics from the girls they were the first pictures I’ve seen of the wedding, it really did look like something out of a fairytale.
I’m not even sure why I’m even that bothered, Max has got more to worry about even before he reprises his outfit at the market! Me, I’m just one of the girls in a fancy frock and intricate hair do, I don’t even look that much like me. So what the heck am I worried about?
“I want a wedding like that,” Pia sighed.
“What? In Bonn Cathedral?” I suggested.
“Well maybe not in the Dom but with the carriage and the costumes and all that stuff.”
“We already have the dresses,” Steff opined.
“You just need to snag a toff like, Gabs,” Brid teased.
“He’s yours if you want him,” I offered – it would get me out of a relationship that I don’t want or that even exists.
“Who says I haven’t?” Pia posed.
“Have you?” Con pressed as she flicked through the rest of Brid’s Stern.
“Well no – but I could.”
“Ot oh!” Con allowed.
“What?” Nena asked.
“You’re not gonna like this, Gab.”
“Like what?” I queried leaning over to see what she was looking at.
“‘Is this the mystery blonde’,” Con read out, “’could this bridesmaid at the Heinemann nuptials be the mystery girl we saw at the Habsburg wedding in the summer? If you know who it is ring blah blah’.”
Above the text was that picture from Munich and another from Bonn, you could see they were both me.
“How much they offering, Con?” Steff enquired, “We could split it five ways.”
“Five?” Pia mentioned.
“Well Gabs already knows who she is!” Steff chortled.
“Only a thousand,” Con supplied.
“The hidden price of fame,” Nena noted.
The snow was still very much in evidence when I emerged from my eyrie Tuesday morning – joy. Let’s put that into context, I enjoy mucking about in the snow as much as the next er girl but when you’ve got to get somewhere, vis a vis school, it can be a pain. A lot did melt yesterday but it was cold last night and snowing again when I left Con’s after another epic baking session, Margot took the cheer session.
Mand and Jules both thought it was hilarious, the Stern ‘who’s that girl’ thing, Mum went as far as to suggest claiming the money myself. Thing is, it’s not them in the frame, would being exposed end the attention or just garner more? I mean, why are they so keen to put a name to the face?
“You alright, kiddo?” Dad enquired.
“The magazine thing?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“Are you sure you aren’t blowing it out of proportion?”
“Why do they want to know who I am, Dad?”
“Curiosity? They see a beautiful young woman and want to put a name to the face.” He surmised.
“Well I’ll admit to being a bit biased, but yes beautiful, you, and your sister take after your mother who most certainly is a beauty.”
I couldn’t argue with the last bit but me and Jules, pull the other one, Dad.
“How can I be beautiful, I’ve only been a girl six weeks,” I snorted.
“Not according to your birth certificate and passport.”
“Did your Mum not tell you? They’ve issued a new certificate and your passport came back last week, as far as the records go you’ve been Gabrielle Bond for the last sixteen years.”
“I’m not sixteen yet,” I pointed out.
“Okay, miss pedantic, fifteen and three quarter years. If anyone looks into you it will only show you as you are, my and your mother’s youngest daughter.”
“Hmmpf! So you think I should contact Stern too?”
“That decision’s yours to make but apart from grabbing fifteen minutes of fame I can’t see the harm. Otherwise what happens the next time, a bigger finders fee? Your friends falling out over it? Take the bull by the horns, kiddo, don’t let them control you.”
He did talk a lot of sense, I guess a lot of my fears were based on being found not what I appear but if I’m officially Gaby, well I am what I seem. I am a girl so what’s my problem?
“Well?” Mart enquired.
The lads and assorted parents have been here, at our Weihnachts’ cabin, all afternoon and it’s looking well pukka!
“It’s brill,” Steff allowed.
And indeed it is, Stefan, that’s Mart’s dad, used his jig saw to good effect so we have a sort of fairytale version of a middle ages hostelry, all scroll work and fancy cut outs. Inside is a bit cramped but there’s room for maybe a dozen customers to take coffee and cake. Our kitchen, grand name for a tiny counter, was already adorned with a cake cabinet and the small Gaggia Herr Sebenschuh was lending to us.
“We’ll put the name boards up tomorrow,“ Max informed us.
“Come on then,” Nena chivvied, “let’s get this stuff sorted.”
Most of what we had to do was decoration, pictures on the walls, tablecloths and so on. Con and me organised the ‘kitchen’ – Pia’s dad has been really generous lending not just the Gaggia but cutlery and crockery too. Only being able to cope with a small number of patrons at a time meant we didn’t need a lot, Eva at Der Mühle offered the use of her dishwasher – it really was turning into a sort of community project.
It was rolling on eight before we were done, well we finished earlier but we decided to christen the cabin with coffee and biscuits for the volunteers. Tomorrow we do this for real, they’ve forecast more white stuff, I hope it doesn’t put people off coming.
“Right, ladies,” Gerta instructed, “in and change, Dottie will help.”
Me, Steff and Pia were the last to get into costume, me because I’d been unloading and stocking supplies, the others because they’d been helping everyone else get ready. Anna had excelled herself with the lads, they might feel like prawns but they look brilliant. Gerta had shut the shop early to sort us out, for a cheeky request they’d done us proud.
“You ready, Gaby?” Dot asked.
I raised my arms and Dottie dropped the dress over my head. It was the work of moments to tug everything into place before the side zip sealed me inside the costume. The pattern was for a fairly basic dress but Dot had lined them, which not only helped the hang but also added some much needed insulation – the Wolford thermal tights were an extra unexpected bonus, hopefully we won’t freeze to death!
“Okay, that you done.”
“Thanks, Dottie, I’ll wait outside, guys.”
I went out into the shop to wait for the others to dress.
“Ah, Gaby, ready for action?” Gerta enquired.
“As we’ll ever be, thanks again for this.”
“It’s a good cause, now then, New Year.”
Maddy Bell 11.02.16
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos!
Click the Thumbs Up! button below to leave the author a kudos:
And please, remember to comment, too! Thanks.