Gaby Book 16 - Sweet Sixteen

Well we did stick to plan A taking in a couple more Westerwald climbs before returning to Linz and the ferry. Once back on ‘our’ side of the river we did however put the pedal to the metal a bit more than usual arriving home somewhat more out of breath than is usually the case.

“If you’re quick you can get the next Express,” I advised.
“What about the bikes and stuff?”
“I’ll do it, I’ve got ages,” well longer than the twenty minutes Mand has until the train!
“I’ll shower upstairs then, cheers Gab.”
I didn’t do more than change to my house shoes before following her upstairs, not to shower but to my computer.

“I printed the email so they know what the order is.”
“Twenty five euros?”
“There’s thirty in the envelope, get a drink or something with the change.”
“Sugar it’s ten past!” Mand exclaimed grabbing her coat.
“You can make it,” I told her, “its only five minutes walk.”
“Later!”

With Mand on her way I needed to shake a leg, I’ve only got twenty minutes to shower and get to work now.

I forgot that Connie was with the big Bernie trip to Bonn today so was a bit surprised to find her mum serving when I arrived.
“Er hi Mrs T, sorry I’m late, clothing malfunction.”

Why can you never find anything when you are in a rush? First it was my work trousers then a matching pair of socks – I gave up and put tights on instead but by the time I was sorted my time was up and I was five minutes late.

“We aren’t busy, once you’re ready have a look at the Gaggia, number three seems to be blocked again.”

Half an hour later I had the machine working again, “it was that main filter again, it needs replacing.”
“I’ll get Tomas to order one, so, big date tonight eh?”
“Date?”
“Connie said you’re going to the Lions dance at the Kursaal with Max?”
Well I guess it’s not exactly a secret.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a date,” I allowed as I stacked the dishwasher.
“No?”
“His Dad had a spare ticket, I’m just going to make up the numbers.”
“Hmm,” Therese gave me a funny look, “you know those tickets are a hundred euros each, I don’t think even Willie would have a spare doing nothing.”
“A hundred?” I gawped.
“Well how do you think they raise their money?”

I’d never even thought about it, Max said it was a fundraiser but I hadn’t given it any more thought. Hang on, if there was a ticket – this was planned, why you Max! I didn’t get a chance to dwell on this latest von Strechau subterfuge as we were engulfed by a group of walkers who kept us both busy for some time. We don’t generally get many this time of year but come the spring it’s a popular excursion, take the Express up to Altenahr and walk back down to Ahrweiler either through the vineyards or along the valley bottom – Thesing’s is a convenient stopping point where the two routes converge.

“Phew!” I allowed as the last of the group exited the shop.
“Could do with more groups like that,” Mrs T stated.

I think I mentioned before that we aren’t very busy on Saturday afternoons; the walkers more than doubled our takings.

“Not many walkers this time of year though,” she went on.
“The cycling groups always stop in Ahrweiler, I’ve seen them in the market place,” I noted.
“It’d be nice to tap some of those people,” Therese sighed.
I don’t know where it came from but I had some sort of brainstorm, “we could do specials, put a board on the trail, might get a few in.”
“Specials?” Therese queried.
I paused from my table clearing, “you know, coffee and cake at a special rate or soup maybe.”

As ideas go its hardly new but it might just pull a few extra punters in.

“Hmm, might be worth a try, I’ll have a talk with Tomas.”

I finished my shift and walked back home, the Rents were already home, I could see Mum in the kitchen as I walked up the path.

“Heya.”
“Hi kiddo.”
“Good day?” I queried sitting to remove my boots.
“Not bad, we had lunch at the Rathaus, Kangaroo steak.”
“Kangaroo?”
“Bit like beef but less fat.”
“Whatever,” I allowed.
“Soup and a sandwich okay?”
“Sure,”
“You seen Manda, I thought she was going into Ahrweiler?”
“Er no, not since she left, she said something about Koblenz.”
“Koblenz?”
“Maybe she missed the train back?” I suggested.
“She does know the right trains?”
“She said so.” Well in not so many words.
“Hmm, can you give her a call, see where she is?”
“’Kay.”
“Oh your hose is in a bag by the phone, hope its right.”

“Where are you?” I hissed into my Handy.
“Er Ander something.”
“Andernach?”
“Yeah that’s it, talk about nightmare, I ended up on the wrong train, I didn’t realise until the conductor came round so I had to go get off at this Cotchem place and go back to Koblenz then this train is like twenty minutes late and stopping at every gatepost.”
“Why didn’t you ring?”
“There wasn’t a signal and then I was more concerned with getting the right train.”
“You want picking up from Remagen?”
“Maybe?”
“I’ll ring you back in a bit.”

By the time I’d liased with Dad and Mand to get her home, she was to get off at Sinzig as it’s a bit closer and easier to park, it was heading towards six.

“You’d better eat this before you get ready,” Mum suggested after I brought her up to date on the de Vreen rescue.
“Ready?” oh bum, the dance. “Er yeah, don’t want to spill anything on my dress.”
“Sit down then, the hose okay?”
To be honest I hadn’t even looked.
“Er sure.”
“You could sound a bit more enthusiastic,” Mum suggested, placing a bowl of what looked like Scotch broth on the table.
“Just a bit distracted.”
“Hmm, cheese sandwich?”
“With Marmite?”
“Ga-ab!” mater complained.

The soup, not actually Scotch broth but cream of vegetable that Mum had added pearl barley to for some extra body, was quite filling and the Maasdam and Marmite sandwich was perhaps more than I wanted. Guess who won’t be eating much at the dance? Dad still wasn’t back with Mand – well to be fair he did only leave fifteen minutes ago.

A quick shower and I had forty minutes to finish getting ready, I hope Mand gets here soon, I could do with her to help with my hair! BH, knickers, where are those tights? I found the Karstadt bag and pulled the package out, Wolford? Mum! A cheap pair would’ve done – not that I’m complaining but they must’ve cost like twenty five – thirty euros.

Well dressing didn’t take long, sorting out the slap and jewellery took nearly as long but I skidded to a halt in the kitchen with ten minutes to spare.

“Whoa! Slow down kiddo!” Dad suggested.
“Running late,” I mentioned.
“I hope you are doing something with your hair,” Mum instructed.
“Er, could you give us a hand Mand?”
“She’s eating kiddo,” Dad pointed out.
“Please?” I whined.
“Go on, you got pins and stuff?”
I shook the plastic box that I keep such stuff in.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” I told Max as he escorted me down to Gloria’s Cayenne.
“Look I can explain.”
“You don’t know what I’m gonna say yet.”
“Um.”
“You knew about this before Wednesday Max!”
“Erm, might’ve,” he admitted.
I gave him a look.
“Okay, I sort of forgot to ask you, Dad mentioned it Wednesday morning.”
“Hmm, forgiven – for now,” I concluded as we reached the car.

Of course, Gloria was done up to the nines, I like to think I look pretty good and the men were pretty smart too so it was hardly surprising our party turned a head or two when we arrived at the Kursaal. I’ve been here a few times for different events but this has to rank as one of the glitziest, clearly the ladies had gone all out, there were more sequins and rhinestones than you could shake a stick at. I recalled what Max had said the other night, all the gaudiness can’t make up for lack of class.

Hark at me, I sound like a right stuck up moo, but I can sort of see what Max was on about. Yeah, Gloria was certainly dressed up, even a rock or two but it was quite restrained. By contrast, well I already mentioned the sequins; it was like an inverse representation of class.
It was actually rather amusing the way all these painted matrons deferred to our party. The von Strechau’s might have titles and some influential relatives but they’ve never stuffed it anyone’s face, just the opposite. I dare say the title opens a few doors for them but they don’t look down their noses at people.

We had to meet the organising committee of course, I knew some of these people, well at least by sight, not sure that I was recognised in return. Wilhelm and Gloria exchanged pleasantries whilst the kids, Max and me smiled and waited slightly impatiently to move on. Of course this was no Saturday night disco, at €100 a ticket you’d expect live music and the strains of said band made their way out of the main room.

“Right you two,” Gloria intoned, “no alcohol and Max, if Frau Langenheide collars you, be diplomatic please.”
“Yes mum,” he agreed.
“Right, go, mingle.”

“Who’s Frau Langenheide?” I asked as we headed toward the ‘bar’.
“You must know Frau Langenheide, bright orange hair, too much make up…”
“Er Max!”
“And more airs…”
“Ah Maximillian.”
I did try to warn him.

Maddy Bell 03.06.16