Gaby Book 18 - Summery

 
“You alright, Gaby?” Tomas enquired.
“Didn’t sleep well,” I allowed stifling a yawn.
“The pies are going well,” he advised, “Spargel und Hähnchen, who’d have thought.”
“If you can plate it you can pie it,” I offered.

Over the last few weeks we’ve done a good mix of the basics, mince, steak and kidney, chicken plus a few more interesting ones like my currywurst and this week’s chicken and asparagus – we seem to have built up a bit of a following, I wonder how they’ll fare at the kiosk?

“We need to clear out the kiosk this week otherwise we’ll not be ready for all the stuff you convinced Therese you girls need.”
“Er.”
He grinned, “Oh I know she doesn’t need much encouragement, I think you saved us money actually.”
“We did?”
“Well you were the one who pointed out that there’s a würst cutter in the store room, that’s over a hundred euros saved.”
“What about the coffee machine?”
“Ach, that old one is fine for your Weihnachts stall but even then it wasn’t so great, no some things shouldn’t be skimped on. I'm sure we could have found used fridges and washers but with new there are guarantees, it’s false economy, we have been that route before here at the bakery,” he admitted.
I finished stacking sandwiches in the cool display, “We should do some sort of advertising, tell people we’re opening.”
“Ahead of you there, I've ordered some banners and a flyer in the free paper.”
“We should invite the press to the opening.”
“Opening? Hmm hadn’t given that any thought.”
“We’ve got to have an opening Mr T, we could get someone famous to open it, a bit of a party, get peoples’ attention.”
“Anything else?”
“Well we should cross advertise with the bakery,” I had a sudden flash of inspiration, “we could do a sort of loyalty thing like if they buy stuff here then visit the kiosk the same day they get a discount or a free drink or something.”
“That it?”
“I'm sure I'll think of something,” I offered.
7
Ruff, ruff.

“Sounds like Fritzy,” I noted.
“It is,” the boss noted looking outside past me, “I'll pick you up at nine on Monday,” he instructed before making himself scarce.

Hey, did I agree to that?

“Morning, Frau Holdorf,” I managed to force a smile, “the usual?”

“Dad?”
“What’s up kiddo?” Pater replied from under the Mercedes’ bonnet.
“Thought it was serviced the other day?”
“Still need to check the oil and water,” he advised extracting himself.
“Right.”
“So what did you want?”
“Oh right, yeah, you know the kiosk?”
“How could I not.”
“Well you know we’re having a garden area with tables and stuff?”
“I didn’t but go on.”
“I was sort of wondering if you could help do it.”
“In what way?” he released the bonnet strut and lowered the lid.
“Well Mand suggested we have some sort of fence.”
“And you want me to build it?” he surmised.
“You did that one back in Warsop and Gran’s.”
“What does Tomas say?” Dad enquired ushering me through the bike store.
“He says it’s not a priority, we need to get it open before worrying about extras.”
“Maybe he’s right.”
“But it’s like building a bike and not fitting gears, they might not be essential but it won’t work properly without them.”
“Interesting analogy kiddo, tell you what, we’ll take a look later, no guarantees, the Thesing’s will need to sign off on anything.”
“Thanks, Daddy!” I bounced up and gave him a hug.
“So are you all ready for tomorrow?”

Tomorrow, yeah, another week, another race. After the epics of the last few weeks it’s a bit tame really, a return to Aachen and that circuit around the Rathaus. It’s a short circuit, a fast descent, tight corners and a stiff, narrow climb, just hope it doesn’t rain like it did last time – that was well dodgy!

“Hmm,” Dad mentioned as he paced the kiosk plot.

It’s not the biggest area, about seven metres by eight, a mix of scrubby grass and around the cabin an elderly concrete surface.

“So what sort of fence were you thinking?”
“I reckon one of those like woven plank things,” Mand opined.

We’d come up after dinner, Mand has been in Bonn with a school friend all day and I've been sorting out my wardrobe – well it’s good to know what you have and whether it fits.

“Not the most robust solution,” Dad mentioned, “it’ll need to be low maintenance and easy to repair if it does get damaged. Hmm, let’s have a look round the back.”
“It looks a bit grotty,” Mand stated.
“We are going to paint it,” I pointed out.

Dad inspected the fence around the bins, I thought it looked pretty solid but who am I to know?

“Looks pretty solid, what sort of tables you thinking, picnic benches?”
“Dunno, they can be awkward to get into,” I've taken a couple of tumbles myself getting out of ‘em, “separate tables and chairs?”
“You have to have umbrellas,” Mand put in.
“Naturlich,” I agreed.
“What you thinking, Dad?” I asked as we trailed back around the building.
“Well,” he started, “we do a ranch style plank fence, quick and simple.”
“Really?” it didn’t exactly grab me I have to say, “I was hoping something more, er German?”
“Hmm, okay, so we use planks, get a bit fancy with the jigsaw?”
“Could work.”
“Tell you what kiddo, when we get home I'll knock up a quick plan, do some sums, you said you’re coming up Monday?”
“Uh huh,” I agreed.
“Okay, I'll pop up and we’ll have a chat with Tomas. Anyone fancy an ice cream?”
“The kiosk’s closed,” Mand pointlessly stated.
“Well duh!”
“Marco’s is open so I'm going even if you pair aren’t interested.”

“Sounds exciting,” Ron offered as we crossed the almost featureless countryside between Düsseldorf and Aachen.

For a Sunday we’ve had a late start however today's event isn’t until two o’clock so even going via Ron’s in Mettmann we didn’t have to leave until after nine. The week’s dry weather looks set to hold for the race and the usual pre race tension is much less. The pressure’s off, it’s a one off event so apart from honour there’s nothing really at stake – just a good ol’ race.

“I wouldn’t call it exciting,” I told her.
“Yeah, you haven’t seen the place, it’s a right shed,” Mand advised.
“We haven’t started yet,” I pointed out.
“Well I think it’s pretty cool anyhow, Gab.”
“At least someone thinks it’s a good idea,” I glared at de Vreen.

Our race is one of a series being run today on the circuit, getting onto the circuit to practice is very restricted, just a few minutes between races. With this in mind Dad brought the turbo's, not ideal but at least we’ll be properly warmed up. Dad waved at me and indicated his watch, I guess it’s time to get ready.

“Careful on the descent, Mand,” Ron warned as we turned into the narrow lane.
“You weren’t kidding,” Mand stated taking a firmer grip on the brakes.
“Unless they’ve changed this year it’s a tight bend at the bottom too,” I added.

We dropped into the square hard on the wheels of a couple of lads who made a hash of the corner, nearly putting me into the barriers.

“Flippin’ amateurs,” I muttered loudly as we got moving again.
“And you’re so great eh, girly,” one of them called after me.
“Better than you,” Mand told them as she in turn passed them, “idiots!”

The climb isn’t long really but it’s steep enough to be hard, especially after a few laps, we took it easy taking the opportunity to find a good climbing gear. Then we burst onto Markt and the still gently rising finishing straight across the front of the imposing Rathaus. At a guess we’d get another three or four laps in before they called us off, enough to get a reasonable feel I guess.

We weren’t the only members of the fairer sex lined up for the start just under fifteen minutes later, the organisers had lumped the senior women in with the juniors. Not that it added many riders, five I think, clearly not enough for their own event but at least they get to race. I quickly estimated how many riders were waiting for the off, about fifty, quite ample on this circuit, in fact maybe too many on the narrower bits – especially if some of the riding I've seen warming up is anything to go by.

Three of us on a tight crit circuit over forty minutes and a lap don’t really allow for much in the way of tactics so it’s basically every girl for herself. The Commissaire droned on for a couple of minutes, be careful, laps out, getting lapped – hmm getting lapped. The lecture ended and I took a couple of deep breaths and readied myself to start.

Baaaaaaaarp!
And we’re off.

There was a clatter of cleats and pedals, a few curses, crunching gears and the peloton rolled towards the first turn and that drop towards the cathedral. It was a nervy descent, there’s just no space to get past anyone and it’s easy to get boxed against the railings. I think everyone made it down safely but I found myself rather too far back as the pace picked up again as we crossed to the climb.

Luck was with me though, no one attacked the climb and so I was able to sneak past a good few of the competition. I was a little nonplussed to spot Ron ahead of me, how’d she get there? It was essential for my plan to move up quickly, it’s not a long race, there won’t be a lot of opportunity if I don’t act pretty quickly.

A small businesslike group headed us as we turned out of the Markt for our second descent, more clear space around me allowed less use of the brakes. I nearly overcooked it at the bottom, a bit of deja vu, but I stayed upright and maintained my position across the square and onto the ascent. The front runners eased off a tad, damn, okay, you asked for it.

I snicked up a sprocket and went for it.

“Stupid girl!” someone yelled after me.

Hey it’s not me gonna get lapped so who’s the stupid one?

I gave it a good blast up the narrow lane, the sound of my pursuers echoing up the restricted space. Looking behind is a no-no, I returned to my seat as the course widened and the gradient decreased, keeping my speed into the finishing straight. The crowd isn’t huge but they are vocal and I was enthusiastically cheered through, the afternoon’s MC doing his best to whip up enthusiasm.

“Twenty metres!” Dad called across.

Okay, I've got the gap! I pushed on into the descent and pushed the thumb shift down to put my steed into top gear. It’s not the smoothest of surfaces but at least it’s not cobbles – or wet, I hunched low over the bike, my bum hanging out the back to keep the rear wheel in contact. I got the bottom turn licked this time, being able to use the whole width of roadway certainly helped, then it was a long push on the gear paddle to select a more suitable uphill choice of gear.

By my reckoning I'd get a couple of laps before a serious reaction, I need to make them really count if I'm to pull this off. With that in mind I stood on the pedals and hit the gas for another all out effort up the hill. The rattle of gear changing echoed up from behind, I still don’t have a lot of clear tarmac, not enough for sure.

Maddy Bell © 20.12.16