Of course it was a lot to take on board and I lay in my eyrie contemplating what it all meant.

So I wonder what Helmut’s up to, he’s always got something going on, guess we’ll find out tomorrow on that one. And just what are BC up to? I mean, not selecting Mum is just dumb, she’s the best they’ve got – hmm, maybe they’re taking my defection out on her – that's just so unfair if that's the case.

And then there’s my trip to Canada, I suppose it had to happen at some point and its not like I’ve not ridden without Dad about before is it? And its not like its just me going is it, I’ll have Tal and Iz as back up and Roni’ll be there too. But it won’t be the same – bum I should’ve asked about who BC are taking.

“Mand, you decent?” I called through her door.
“Hmm? Gab?”

I took that as a yes and pushed my way in.

“Morning!”
“Wotcha want at this time?”
“Apparently you need this for tonight,” I told her, brandishing my original Kostum in its plastic cover.
“I do? Oh I do, your Dad mentioned it when he picked me up, any idea what its all about?”
“None,” I admitted hanging said garment off the wardrobe door, “you might want to run the iron over it.”
“Now there’s a surprise,” she mumbled.
“well I’d best get off, Schnitzel to cook, Pommes to fry!”
“Such a glamorous life.”
“Laters!”

“Helmut get you last night?” Con enquired when I arrived at the kiosk.
“Left a message with Dad, any idea what's going on?”
“Something about publicity photo’s.”
“As long as that's it, guess I’d best do my hair then,” I allowed.
“Does that mean I have to put mine up too?”
I shrugged, “up to you, it hides the pink in my mop a bit.”
“Its not that noticeable.”
“You’re just used to it,” I suggested.
“Maybe,” she agreed.
“You two doing anything this morning?” Kris hinted from the hatch.

Mum always says ‘if a jobs’s worth doing its worth doing well’ and I’m inclined to agree with her. And so when I got home it was straight into the shower, hair washed, conditioned, quick check for errant stuff elsewhere then set to getting dressed. When I’m wearing the usual plain uniform dirndl I generally just wear normal knickers and stuff but I’ve got posh stuff for the posh Kostum, nice BH, pretty pants, silky hose – well you get the idea.

“I take it you aren’t going out like that,” Dad suggested when I swept into the lounge with my sandwich.
“Eh?” I glanced at how I was dressed, “oh no, don’t want to get anything on my dirndl.”

Its not like I’m half naked or anything, I’ve got on everything except the overdress and apron – yep I’ve got my er, enhancer thing on, looks like I’ve got a right pair rather than the modest B cups I’m endowed with.

“Just checking,” he allowed, “i suppose you want taxi-ing up?”
“Nah, I think we can manage to walk.”
“Can’t say I didn’t offer.”
“Maybe on the way back?” I hinted.
“Okay, so you found out what its all about yet?”
“Con thinks its for some publicity photos.”
“Tell Helmut you want modelling fees.”
“Like that's gonna happen.”

By the time Con arrived, my hairdresser, aka Mand had my hair in two neat pretzels, my Edelweiss earrings were in, after some debate my diamond nose hook, nails repainted and subtle but immaculate makeup. De Vreen opted for a single braided bun so the pair of us looked, well I reckon, well pukka.

“Trust you,” Con sighed seeing the Bond contingent, “you just had to go all out didn’t you.”

She was looking pretty boss herself, maybe not quite as over the top as me and Mand but still well on it.

“You want me to have a play?” Mand offered.
“We got time?”
“Plenty,” I opined.
“Go on then,” she agreed.

Do you know the weirdest thing, despite being done up to the nines I always feel really comfortable in my Kostum. If I wear a posh frock, or a party dress I always seem to be tugging at something, readjusting things but despite all the various bits, I always forget how I’m dressed when I’m dirndl-ed. I’ve even gone all out with footwear, well you can’t wear plimmies with posh can you so I’ve got eight centimetre heels on.

“Dunno how you walk in them Gabs,” Mand observed.
“Practice?”
“Come off it Bond,” Con put in, “when do you ever wear heels, you are definitely a trainers girl.”
"I wore those heels on the school trip.”
“Once.”
“Do I know about this?” Mand queried.
“Might’ve been before you came, we all dressed up to go to Bonn Museum, skirts, hose, the lot, Bond had like twelve centimetre heels on all day.”
“I am here,” I pointed out.
“Have to say Con, for someone who doesn’t wear them, she does have quite a collection,” Mand opined.
“Guys?”
“Well I guess she is kind of short,” Con noted.
“Hmph!”
“You hear something Mand?”
de Vreen couldn’t contain herself any longer and burst into laughter, “your face Gab!”

By now we were at the Sebenschuh's place where Ing greeted us wearing clearly new kitchen scrubs or whatever you call them.

“Whoa, you guys really went all out.”
“Were we not supposed to?” Con proposed.
“No, I mean yes, papa will be well pleased, my sister less so.”
“So what’s going off Ingrid?” Mand asked.
“My Tante Elsa, she visited at the weekend.”
“And?” I pressed.
“I’m getting there, well to cut a long story short, she suggested Dad get some new brochure things done, you know like yours for the kiosk? Mum suggested we could get photos tonight as we’d have a full house with the coach coming, so here we are.”
“And here we are,” Con pointed out.
“Ah girls, you’re here,” Herr S mentioned somewhat needlessly as he came out of the Stube with a be-camera’d chap, goatee, glasses and one of those jacket things with all the pockets, “meet Kurt who’s doing our photography.”
“Er hi girls,” Kurt offered as he polished his glasses which made me giggle a bit.
“You are so bad Bond,” Con hissed in my ear.

“I can’t believe you three,” Pia huffed as we waited for our patrons to return from the cellar tour.
“What?”
“You know, flirting with Kurt.”
“Were not!”
“Oh come on Con,” P pouted.
“Maybe if you smiled a bit?” I suggested – well she’s had a right mog on since we got here.

“The usual for you guys?” I enquired of the bus crew.
“Please Gaby,” Nena, the courier, answered.
“So you guys go on holiday now the summer season’s over?” I posed.
“Ha, chance’d be a fine thing,” Dennis, the driver stated.
“If only,” Nena agreed, “hopefully we get a break in November.”
“November? Sheesh.”
“What about you? Back to school?”
“College, probably as well this is done.”
“I reckon we’ll be back next year, the passengers really like coming.”
“That’s cool, I should get on, the boss is waving at me, I’ll get your drinks.”

Apart from being somewhat overdressed the evening wasn’t much different to usual – well apart from Kurt and his cameras. Well not just Kurt but three of us were much in demand with the diners for more amateur photographic exploits. I didn’t get an opportunity to chat with Dennis and Nena, seems my presence was needed everywhere tonight.

By the time we finished posing for cheesy pictures it was well after our usual finish and the A Klasse was waiting.

“Thank you girls, I think that went really well,” Helmut advised.
“The rechnung will be in the post,” I suggested.
“I’ll miss doing this,” Mand noted.
“I’m thinking of doing some special themed evenings in the autumn if you’re up for that?” Herr S proposed.
“Subject to availability,” Mand agreed.
“What about you two?” Helmut enquired of me and Con.
“I guess.”
“Well its not like I have a social life,” Con lamented.
“We should go, Dad’s waiting for us.”
“I’ll let you know when I’ve got something organised, nite ladies.”
“Tschuss!”
“Abend!”

“Anyone up for Chinese?” Dad queried as we climbed into Mum’s team car.
“What’s the occasion Herr Bond?” Con asked.
“Nothing really, I just fancy some junk food.”
“Count me in,” Mand enthused.
“Good for me,” Thesing agreed.
“Gab?”
“Well I’m supposed to be eating healthily,” I pointed out.
“No Chow Mein for you then kiddo.”
“Pineapple fritters?” I suggested.
“Maybe just this once,” Pater told me.

And so an hour later the four of us were seated around our kitchen table, cartons of egg rice, noodles, black bean sauce, crispy duck and, and – well Dad got the ‘feast for four’ so there was more food than you could point a chopstick at! It was like a sort of belated celebration for Spain as well as end of season at the Stube – Dad even broke out a bottle of Helmut’s finest. Oh and I did get my pineapple fritters, the others had banana – topped with a good dollop of ice cream – perfection.

Maddy Bell © 09.07.2018