Gaby Book 18 - Summery

 
I'm sure I looked like some pink haired Valkyrie as I assaulted the finishing straight like a mad woman, out of the saddle and climbing all over the bike. I finally settled down three quarters of the way across the square and only after a shout of ‘easy!’ from Dad. I took some deep gulps of air as I turned onto the drop once again.

Clearly I couldn’t keep this effort going indefinitely, I need to eke out my energy so whilst I descended quickly I let gravity do most of the work then once safely through the bogey corner a quick drag on my bidon. I made a more tempered assault on the climb this time, even so I caught sight of the first tail ender as it straightened out after the slight right bend. Well a carrot’s a carrot and I pushed just a tad harder on the pedals.

The more measured approach was no less effective, I never heard the pursuers this time up the climb, this might just work. The MC was trying to whip up the crowd, not that they needed too much encouragement, the vocal support was warm and enthusiastic.

“Better, steady!” Dad called out.

Whatever. If the right (well wrong from my point of view) riders are in the mix even a half lap lead could quickly disappear. I certainly can’t sit back, I need to continue, if not full gas, at least ninety percent. And so I started several laps of continuous effort during which I started picking off back markers, singly and in two’s and three’s.

“Ten minutes!”

Maybe five laps left then. By now I was pretty much jumping from rider to rider, group to group, the other Apollinaris jersey’s were still somewhere ahead. I kept it fast but steady, any let up could be fatal.

‘And here she comes, that’s twenty two laps on her own now, I think the smart money is on Gabrielle to win this!’ the MC squawked as I completed another lap, overhauling another rider as I did so.
“Twenty seconds down!” Dad called out excitedly.

Twenty, it’s doable I guess, I could of course ease off and just get in first, it’s not like there's a bonus for taking a lap. Ease up? Not likely, I pushed on down the hill and in my enthusiasm nearly hit the barriers again, stupid moo, don’t want to take myself out. Seconds later I was dodging bikes and bodies at the foot of the climb, clearly there’d been some sort of coming together in the main bunch.

On the straight section of the climb I caught my first view of that bunch, climbing steadily seemingly within touching distance. It wasn’t far but enough, I counted off the gap, fifteen, can I? I held the gap whilst they were in sight, it would inevitably stretch as it flattens.

Much to my surprise they were closer than I could’ve hoped when I hit the straight, I could even see a sky blue jersey at the back. I'm sure it was the MC who alerted them to my presence as there was a slight flurry of activity before they turned out of sight. So close.

On the descent I found myself coming up fast on what appeared to be both my teammates, what the heck? Mand glanced back and called something to Ron who accelerated to match my speed.

“What’re you doing?” I gasped.
“SBB.”
“Eh?”
“Saving Bonds Butt,” Mand announced from the other side, “sit in girl, we’ve got butt to kick!”

And so it came to pass that Ron and Mand towed me up the climb and ever closer to the front group. It’s not strictly kosher but I wasn’t complaining and it looked like I was just catching them when I crossed the line to take the bell. We hit the chute at full tilt and we connected with the bunch as we turned onto what for me is the last climb of the race.

Yes! I climbed easily within the peloton, I've won, won by a lap! As we approached the line I dropped just off the back, the bell sounding for everyone else’s last lap but for me, the war is over. I exchanged high fives with the girls before they sped forward to the group and I rolled easily over the line, arms aloft and a cheesy grin on my face as the MC went into overdrive.

“You could’ve said what you were planning,” Ron suggested.
“I didn’t know until I started,” I defended, “it was spur of the moment.”
“Well if we’d known we could’ve made it easier,” Mand advised,” we didn’t know you were away for two laps or that you were alone even then.”
“Well thanks for the help at the end there.”
“What help? We were trying to stay ahead of you so we weren’t lapped,” Ron grinned.

We hadn’t hung around after the race, well not beyond the award ceremony, the senior men were already racing as we left Aachen to return to Burg Grönberg. It wasn’t a huge prize pot but every little helps and another win on my palmares never hurts. I've had a good string of results so far this season but for how long can I continue, the circuit played to my strengths today, at some point my luck will run out.

“Wow!”
“It's only rough,” Dad insisted.
“’S better than my ‘model’.”

I studied Dad’s drawing, for ‘only rough’ it was quite detailed, I hope Tomas goes for it. It certainly looks cool.
Beep beep!
“That’ll be my lift.”
“I'll pop up about ten,” Dad advised.
“Okay, tschuss!”

“Someone's happy,” Con mentioned when I clambered into the Thesing’s car.
“Won yesterday and we’re starting on the kiosk today, course I'm happy. So what’re we doing today?”
“Clearing everything out of the kiosk, all the rubbish, stuff on the walls, I've got a skip coming this morning.”
“What’re you doing, Dad?” Connie queried.
“I'll start on the outside, your Uncle Joe wants all the render off, it’s got some damp behind it in places, it’s easier to redo the lot than try to patch it.”

Sounds like a lot of work to me.

“Gott, there’s some muck in here,” my BF complained.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “there must be five layers of lino on this floor.”
“Urgh!”
“What?”
“Spiders, there’s like a nest or something.”
“Geez, they won’t hurt you.”
“I don’t like them okay, get rid of them, Gabs,” she wailed backing away.

I'm no fan myself but not that much of a girl (well technically I am but you know what I mean). I found a decent sized bit of the ripped up floor covering and set about collecting the spiderlings.

“Get the door.”
“Oo, ooo!” Con pushed the door open and cowered against the wall allowing me to pass out into the yard where I added lino and spiders to the skip that now fills the ‘parking’ area.

I don’t suppose they’ll be the last spiders in here – as long as there aren’t mice or slugs I'll be alright.

“How’re you getting on?” Dad asked poking his head into the kiosk.
“Hi, Herr Bond,” Con offered.
“Okay, Dad, nearly got all the lino up.”
“There’s spiders,” Con advised him.
“It happens,” he noted.
“So you talked with Mr T?” I enquired.
“I have and he’s agreed.”
“Agreed to what?” Con queried.
“Dad’s volunteered to build the fence.”
“Volunteered is a bit strong, my daughter arm twisted me, Connie.”
“Fence?”
“I mentioned it Friday? The garden?”
“Ah.”
“So he’s agreed the design?” I prompted.
“Well not a hundred percent, there’re a few changes but I think you’ll like them.”
“Such as?”
“I'll show you later or you’ll not get this finished.”
“Aw, Dad,” I moaned.
“Don’t ‘aw Dad’ me, I'm sure Connie’s keen to get on, eh?”
“As long as there’s no more spiders.”
“See you later, kiddo, Connie.”
“Bye, Mr B.”

He made good his escape leaving me well frustrated.

We finished clearing the floor before stopping for lunch, the tomato and mozzarella sandwich a reminder of similar, cleaner lunches during my time at Silverberg Gymnasium. Is it only a week since we left? there’s been so much going on, races, parties, Wednesday at the pool, the kiosk, wedding invites – shitza, I was supposed to be going to see Gerta today, damn!

“What’s that look for?” Con asked.
“I wanted to go to Eloise Couture today.”
“Whatever for?”
“A dress,” I suggested.
“I guessed that, but what for?”
“Another wedding, Sophie’s sister.”
“Where you went at New Year?”
“The same, anyway Sara’s getting hitched and I'm invited.”
“Little miss popular, just you?”
“Er not exactly,” I admitted.
“You’re going with Max you sly moo!”
“Define with.”
“Oh come on, Gab, you are so a couple, you know it, we know it, even this what’s her name knows it.”
“We are so not!”
“Remagen Wednesday? I saw you having a crafty snog on the way to Maccy D’s.”

Bum.

“Anyway you’ve got loads of posh dresses.”
“Eh? Oh the wedding, I can hardly wear the same as I did last year, it’s a posh do, they take notes.”
“You’ll be reading Nena’s Stern next.”
“And anyway I've grown since then.”
“Where?”
“I'm a centimetre taller.”
“Like that’ll make such a difference.”
“Hmmph!”
“Whatever,” Con sighed.
“I'll have to go tomorrow, you coming?”
“I suppose so, gets us out of cleaning for the day.”

“What get you out of cleaning?” Herr Thesing enquired appearing around the skip.
“Gab needs to go shopping tomorrow, I said I'd keep her company.”
“Well you’d best crack on today then.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Yes, Herr Thesing.”

We’d finished eating anyhow so we cleared up our improvised picnic site and headed back into Armageddon.

Maddy Bell © 20.12.16