“Dad?”
“Yes kiddo,” Pater replied around his toast.

I did get up with my alarm so there!

“I’ve been thinking.”
“Danger, danger,” he mocked.
“Da-ad,” I moaned.
“Go on.”
“Well you know I won the German championships?”
“Yes,” he allowed.
“So like where does that leave me with BC?”
“i was wondering when you’d ask that.”
“And?” I pressed.
“Its complicated kiddo and it affects Amanda and the others at the house too.”
“It does?”
“’fraid so, look, they’ll be back from Kent this afternoon, and you need to get to work, can you wait until later and i’ll explain things to both of you together?”
“i guess so,” I agreed.
“Finish your breakfast and i’ll run you up.”

Well I reckon I do deserve a day off the bike after this weekend’s exploits – and another Brötchen with Nutella®!

“Heya Gabs or should I say Wonder Woman.”
“Morning Nen, Boss’ll do for now.”
“Yes Boss, so lets see then?”

Well i’d be fibbing if I said I didn’t enjoy showing off my gongs to all and sundry so of course i’d brought them up to the kiosk today.

“Hang on, lets get set up first eh?”

The mundane tasks like checking the coffee machine certainly bring any flighty thoughts to earth with a clang. At least yesterdays rain has passed on so Nena put the tables and chairs out while I prepared the hotplate and stowed todays supply of baked goods and got the first batch of Würst going. One day your a superstar, the next a short order (very short!) cook, how does that work?

“You never!”
“I did.”
“And she went for it?”
“Yup,” I confirmed, “she actually looked for my wings.”
“You are so bad Gaby Bond!”
“Welcome to the dark side,” I supplied in my best deep voice that was, lets be honest not exactly deep or worrying.
“Gab’s!”
“Anyhow I just went for it then, it even stopped raining.”
“Sometimes you are just so jammy girl.”
“Strawberry?”
She ignored me instead changing the subject, “Max coming today?”
“Expect so, why?”
“Just looking at the time, he’s usually here about now that’s all.”

I looked at the clock myself, hell, where did the morning go to?

“Pie or schnitzel?”
“What was the pie again?”

To be honest I wasn’t sure about this weeks variety, I’m all for a bit of experimentation but I think Tomas may have overstepped the bounds of decency this time.

“Weisswürst with redcurrant jelly.”
“Yeuch! That needs a strong stomach, play safe girl, can’t go wrong with Wiener Schnitzel.”
“Think you’re right, I don’t know what Herr Thesing was thinking.”

“Ta da!” Max announced from somewhere behind the huge floral display now filling the kiosks serving window.

My assistant was reduced to a fit of giggles, fat lot of help she is.

“Max, what’s this in aid of? And get them out of the window.”
“Say it with flowers?” he suggested removing them to one of the garden tables.
“Say what exactly, that Izzy in the florists saw you waving fifty euros?”
“Don’t be so mean Gab, they’re very erm,” Nena hesitated as she fished for a description, “colourful?”

They were certainly colourful, a bit overboard but yep, a veritable rainbow of blooms. I’ve no idea what most of them are called, I’m not a botanist after all but I suppose they do look quite jolly.

“Mum said girls like flowers.”

Bit of a generalisation Gloria, I’m not the biggest fan to be honest, but I can hardly nay say the Baroness.

“Er we do but within reason, a few would’ve been enough, take these and go sit and i’ll bring your food over,” I handed him a couple of bottles of fizzy beverage.
“Good job you aren’t on the Fahrrad today,” Nen chuckled as I plated up the schnitzel.

“Er Gab.”
“Hmm,” I acknowledged, unwilling to break my suction on Max’s face.
“There’s an RTL1 van just pulled up over the road.”
“’ats ‘ice.”
“Um Gertie Schmidt’s just got out.”
“Don’t be daft,” I opined after finally breaking from my boyfriends face.
“I’m not, its her alright and they’re heading this way.”
“Shitza!” in a panic I stood up and hurried towards the kiosk.
“There she is,” Gertie’s voice drifted over, “Gaby!”
Bum, “Gertie, come for Pommes?”

Well of course it wasn’t my ability to cook perfect Frites that had drawn everyone's favourite TV reporter back to Altenahr, somehow she’d got wind of my weekend exploits down in Bavaria.

She did start her piece munching a plate of deep fried potato with a backdrop of Connie’s Cabin though.

“Hello once again from the wonderful town of Altenahr. If you remember, at the start of the summer we were here for the opening of an enterprise run by a couple of young entrepreneurs living here in the Ahrtal. I’m not here today to check on the continued quality of the Pommes, although they are very good,” she joked before putting the plate down and slowly walking over to where I was waiting. “no, its not the food that brings me here today although it is one of those astute young business women.”

I tried to contain my blush with little success.

“Hello again Gabrielle.”
“Gaby please, welcome back Gertie,” I replied trying not to smile too forcibly.
Gertie addressed the camera again, “you might recall that young Gabrielle is something of a sports woman of the bicycle racing ilk, so Gaby, you were in Bavaria last weekend?”

The whole idea was that it came over as a sort of casual chat in her usual style which meant, well not a script as such but some collusion over the conversation.

“It was the German championships at Steingaden Gertie, its a long way but the highlight of the domestic season.”
“And a little bird tells me you returned with some new medals,” she hinted.
“A couple,” I agreed.
“They both look to be gold to me, what’s this one for?” she lifted a gong from where it lay on my chest.
“The time trial on Friday.”
“Gaby is of course the reigning Weltmeisterin at this discipline, it was an easy victory then?”
“Far from it Gertie, I was behind at all the time checks but I guess my experience paid off, I finished with 34 seconds in hand over the local favourite.”
“Well done! So what is the other medal for?”
“The road race Gertie.”
“Like we see at the Tour de France?”
“Yes but without all the cars and spectators,” I supplied.
“And you won again?”
“Well it was a difficult race, part of the circuit was on forest roads and there was heavy rain during the race.”
“So you had to work hard?”
“Yes, there was a crash on the last lap, I managed to avoid it but I took my chance then and claimed this,” I waggled the gong while giving a cheesy grin – at least I’d had time to put on some makeup, TV can be so unflattering.
“Don’t you just love her? Talented and so modest too, what do you think young man?”

Max had been spectating along with a couple of other regulars and somehow Gertie homed in on him.

“Erm.”
“What do you think about having such a famous person serving you dinner?” Gert pressed.

He was like a rabbit in headlights, “er well I hadn’t really thought about it, I mean we went to school together, we do stuff with our friends.”

Don’t say anymore Max, that's already too much!

“So she really is a champion of the people?”
“I guess so,” he agreed.
“Well,” she turned to directly address the camera again, “there we are, the Palatinate’s newest champion, a young lady I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of in the future and a dab hand at cooking Pommes too. A-and cut.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, “you guys want coffee?”
Gertie grinned back, “please, I doubt we’ll get much chance before we go to air.”
“This is going out tonight?”
“Strike while the iron’s hot and to tell you the truth its been a quiet weekend, everyone’s on holiday and if I have to do another Heimat broadcast...”
“I guess they can be a bit repetitive,” I allowed.

“That was a bit unexpected,” Max mentioned twenty minutes later after the RTL team finally took their leave.
“Embarrasing,” I suggested.
“Not much, she caught me on the hop there.”
“I did wonder what you were going to say.”
“So did I,” he chuckled.
“Well I think your TV debut deserves a reward.”
“It does?”
“Yeah, come here handsome!”
“Put him down Gab!” Nena called over as I gave his lips a thorough seeing to, she’s only jealous.

“So how many times will this be,” Nen queried as we grabbed our own lunches sometime later.
“Eh?”
“On the telly,” she stipulated.
“Er,” I had to do a mental head scratch, the Worlds, operning the running thing, the SPOTY thing, our grand opening here and today, “five?”
“Seems more, they’ll be giving you your own slot soon.”
“Don’t be daft!”
“You could do a cookery programme or travel or something, you’d be famous in no time.”
“I don’t really want to be famous.”
“She says!”

Maddy Bell © 05.10.2017