“No Manda?” Dad queried taking in the assembled femininity waiting for him in the lounge.
“Working remember,” I advised.
“Course, so you ladies ready?”
“As soon as you’ve changed,” Mum insisted.
She can be such a snob at times.

Of course unlike us ‘ladies’ Dad was showered and changed in about five minutes flat. Mum had already turned the A Klasse round so once we were loaded we were straight off, its not far of course but even so Mad was gripping the door handle tightly by the time we bumped into the courtyard of Schloss Rech.

“When your mum said schloss earlier,” Mad whispered as we got out of the car.
“She really meant the Schloss, its a real, hundred percent German castle,” I grinned.
“You weren’t winding me up were you?”
“Nope.”
“Come on you two,” Mum chivvied.

Of course in my attempt at one upmanship I’ve got ten centimetre heels on which I was already regretting as even just a few steps across the cobbles became potential ankle breakers. I know, i’ve done it before, I should know better but, well you know what its like right? Anyhow, somehow I reached the door without breaking me or my heels where Gloria was already greeting my parents.

“No Baroness?” Mum queried once we reached the parlour where she can usually be found holding court.
“At Rothenburg thankfully,” Gloria told us with a grin.
There was no sign of Max either, disapointment must have shown on my face as Gloria went on, “don’t worry Gaby, he’ll be here in a moment, he’s just helping Willie in the kitchen. So you must be Madeline?”

If there’s one thing you can say about Gloria its that she is very, er tactful. I guess with a family like the von Strechau’s its either that or be constantly putting your foot in it. I mean, just how on earth do you keep up with the personal lives of the entire German aristocracy?
Well I’m sure Mum had filled her in on things earlier, certainly no mention was made of how Mad ended up in the Ahrtal. If anything it was as though she had been expected that the whole thing was something that had been planned. By the time Max joined us with a tray of, i’m pretty sure non alcoholic, aperitifs, my cousin was relaxed enough to allow a giggle when Max did that heel clicking thing when I introduced them.

Of course, with Wilhelm being a chef you can guarantee any meal at the Schloss will be excellent. None of your boring schnitzel and pommes that's for sure and tonight we were treated to a chilled Spargel soup as starter followed by Gefüllte Kalbsbrust with minted taters, string beans and buttered baby carrots with a sweet berry Ju. Okay it sounds a bit posh, it looked a bit posh and i’m sure if we’d been in Willie’s restaurant it would have cost about thirty euros a pop but we’re not and it tasted even better for being free!

Father and son were back in the kitchen collecting the dessert – I did volunteer to help but apparently von Strechau women are banned from the Schloss kitchen – guess I can live with that.

“Gaby,” Gloria got my attention, “tomorrow, i’ll pick you up at nine, we can get some lunch before the show.”

Tomorrow, bum its that stupid fashion show thing.

“Erm, okay, that’ll be lovely thank you.”
“My pleasure, it’ll be nice to show you off, it gets a bit long having all the hoi polloi from the Eifel hinting that various daughters or nieces are ‘available’.

Its times like this that i’m never quite sure how to take Gloria, I know last year in Munich I was invited along as a decoy. Of course that sort of backfired, Sophia isn’t interested in becoming the next Baroness von Strechau and somehow the two of us have ended up friends. Not that I think Max was really aware of his mothers machinations but you know how that turned out.

Since then of course there was the Bonn wedding and of course Sara’s rather rushed affair in Stuttgart both of which I attended with Max as his ‘official’ love interest. Hey i’m not complaining, what with free designer frocks and five star food a girl could get used to it all. And now i’m demoted to decoy again, or that's what it sounds like – well its not like I want to be a Baroness either is it?

Wilhelm is a rarity amongst Germans, he likes dessert and not your soppy berry compote or lump of strudel. No Willie is a man after the Bond family’s collective heart and this evening wasn’t going to disapoint. Father and son returned, one bearing dishes and a jug of cream, the other with a plate with a scrumptious looking summer pudding on it.

“Hope you’ve all got some space for dessert,” the Baron queried.
“Well i’m not on a diet,” Mum quipped.

If i’d been full to the gills I would’ve still forced some of this beauty down.

“Are those guys for real?” Mad asked as she ‘helped’ me with the cocoa.
“Eh?”
“They were talking about Prince William and Kate?”
“The Windsors,” I shrugged, “they were at that wedding I told you about in Munich.”
“You never said Prince William was there.”

I didn’t tell you I danced with him either!

“There were lots of people there, it was a big wedding.”
“Gloria was talking about them like they’re just ordinary.”
“I guess when you’re related somehow its different to just seeing stuff on the telly, fetch us the tray over.”
“’spose so.” she allowed passing me the tray. “so whats this thing you’re going to tomorrow?”
"Envelope on the board, top right.”
“This one?”
I looked over, “uh huh.”
There was a long pause, “you’re kidding me, Dolce and Gabana?”
“Nope, straight up.”
“Let me get this right, my dweeby cousin got an invite to a D&G fashion show, just when did you become a fashion diva?”
“I didn’t, can you get the cups please.”
“So just how did you get an invite, I get Gloria, she’s got a title and everything but you’re just, well no offense Gab, but you are just a schoolgirl.”
“A well connected schoolgirl?” I suggested, “i’m not just a schoolgirl you know.”
“I’ll give you that.”
“Come on, you can bring the biscuits through.”

“You got time for coffee?” Mum asked as I lowered myself carefully onto a kitchen chair.
“Half a cup, Gloria’s always a bit early.”

In truth I could’ve done with about three cups not half, i’ve been up for hours getting ready for todays ‘excitement’. Shower, powder, primp, dress – Mand’s done my hair in some fancy chignon thing, i’ve got Mum’s diamond studs in and my diamond nose pin – well its sort of my signature thing now. Yeah, I look like a right, I dunno, diva.

“Gab?”
“That’s me,” I allowed to Mads query.
“My god, what happened to my dweeby cousin who wouldn’t even wear a dress?”
“To be fair Mad, I thought I was a boy.”
“If you say so.”
“Hmmph!”
“Those fashion types won’t know whats hit them.”
“Knowing her luck she’ll have a modeling contract by the time she gets back here,” Mand opined.
“Talk rot,” I retorted.

“So your cousin said anything, about how she got here,” Gloria quizzed as we drove up the valley.
“Nothing,” I admitted, “her mum’s arriving today so maybe she’ll tell Aunt Carol.”
“Its certainly a mystery, she looks like you’re twin,” she suggested.
“I guess,” which brought to mind when we pretended to be each other in America that time. Talk about weird, in the end it was the extra piercing in my ear which gave us away – huh, there’s a bit more difference theses days but I guess we still look pretty similar, not like a mirror image but at least close relations.
“So um, what happens at these things?” I requested.
“At the show? Well we sit and watch the long sticks parade up and down, applaud politely and make good with the hospitality.”
“Exciting – not.”
“Oh I don’t know, the gifts are generally pretty good and the photographers take as many shots of the audience as the models.”
“Joy.”
Gloria chuckled, “You make a very good cover girl, how many times on Stern?”
“Three,” I sighed, not exactly keen to add to the tally.

Its about a hundred and twenty kilometres as the crow flies from Dernau to Trier and whilst there is motorway, Gloria kept us on the B roads. Of course i’ve travelled this route before, well we came this way on the way to Spain the other week not that I was taking much notice of the countryside. In fact it was only when Gloria parked us near the cablecar burg station that I recognised where we were.

“I don’t know how you walk in those shoes,” Gloria observed as we made our way across to the restaurant.
“Practice?” I suggested, “its the only way I can see in a crowd.”
“Well you have me there, exactly how tall are they?”
“Fourteen?”
“Sooner you than me.”

The restaurant was surprisingly busy – well I guess its a nice day, plenty of touristos, we might struggle to get a table here.

“Madame,” the Maitre d’ greeted.
“We have a table booked, von Strechau,” Gloria told him.
“Of course,” he quickly checked his diary, “if you will follow me please.”

“What are they looking at?” I hissed to my benefactor, “have I got something on my face?

Gloria might call a slither of poached salmon with some garden weeds lunch but I was looking with, I hope hidden desire the plates other diners were consuming.

“I think, Gabrielle dearest, that we, well you really are the subject of their attention, you really do look beautiful today.”
“Thought I should make a bit of an effort.”
“Well you always look nice, but today spectacular.”

I don’t, as you know, do praise very well, I just hope no one can see my blushing through the layers of slap.

The show was never going to be in the exhibition centre or some school hall, no of course not. We made the short drive down and across the river into the city proper where Gloria took us into the centre to park by the Kaiserthermen. I sort of recognised where we were from coming before to race – not that I really saw that much then.

We walked towards the centre proper, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised when Gloria directed me towards the Basilica, the huge Roman church, the centrepiece of Roman Trier. What did surprise me was the number of photographers and I guess celeb spotters that we had to run the gauntlet of just to get into the building. Invitations were checked and we joined the herd of mostly women in an area which I guess you’d call hospitality.

Flutes of some fruit press stuff were thrust into hands, my eyes however were attracted to the tables sagging under their load of almost ignored nibbles.

“I need the facilities,” Gloria suggested.
“I’ll just be here somewhere,” and hopefully tucking into a few vol au vents.
“I shan’t be long.”

But of course fate had other ideas.

Maddy Bell © 17.08.2018