Questions - A Gaby Fanfic

Part 17

“Mum!” I yelled, dragging Maddy with me as I tried to run to her, finally letting go as I tripped over my book bag, ending up in a heap on what passes for our lawn. A laughing Maddy helped me up. And I finally got the hug that I'd been wanting for six weeks.

“Feel better now?” Mum asked as she felt me start to relax, it had been a pretty intense hug, but I finally found my voice.

“Yeah, I've missed this.”

“Mmm, so have I, but you know, you'll have to let go of me if you want to eat tonight.” Mum laughed

“I thought Carol and Maddy were here.”

“They left five minutes ago; something about being in the way Carol said.” we moved into the kitchen. “So, what have you been up to this week?”

“Not a lot, school as usual.”

“And how are the miles?”

“Not many, I have managed to get a couple of hours on the rollers though. Something always seems to get in the way Mum.”

“Like tandem rides you mean?”

“You spoke to Carol huh?”

“I didn't have to; it seems a famous local cycle star made the Chad, again.”

“WHAT?”

“Take a look, it's on the coffee table, I'll put the kettle on while you read it. Go on,” Mum chuckled. “I won't disappear, I promise.” I reluctantly let go as Mum shooed me into the living room.

Shit, not again. I'd made the pages of the local rag twice before, and had little confidence that the third time would be any less embarrassing. I settled into the sofa, unfolding the paper as though it was about to burst into flames.

I wish it had.

Local cycling star Gaby Bond (13) launched our Disabled Awareness Week in grand style, when together with twin sister Maddy, she took normally wheelchair bound Anie-Frid Turner for a spin in the countryside.

Anie-Frid (13) confined to her wheelchair since an accident two years ago, has now graduated from crutches to two wheels, declared their ride a success “It's been an amazing day out, really wicked.” Said a clearly excited Anie-Frid; as she was assisted by Maddy, after the ride.

Shy Gaby, managed to evade our reporter, but spokesperson for the Cuckney Wheelers, Marjory Sefton, commented.

“The Bond Twins have done a tremendous job today; I'm sure that if you ask them they'll tell you that all they've done is taken a friend for a ride, but to do so Gaby had to modify her tandem to make it safe for Anie-Frid. They also gave up most of Saturday to try out the route and prove they could do it safely. That isn't just going for a ride. That's making an effort for your friends.”

Mrs Turner told us that Gaby only found out that Anie-Frid missed riding her bike last week “I was a little nervous at first but felt better after seeing them in action. And with so many people looking out for them I knew they'd be alright.”

Photo & story Sam Aziz. See Chad Says Page 3.

“Where do they get this crap from?” I groaned and dropped the paper. Mum handed me a mug of tea.

“Well to be fair, all they've got wrong are your names, and that's probably down to Marge, isn't it?”

“Oh yeah, the spokesperson. Mum, that's the first time I've met them.”

“So, the reporter probably recognised them from other events. They are well known members of the same club. What were they supposed to do…. Anyway the best bits on page 3, check it out while I put a snack together.” Mum disappeared into the kitchen, while I retrieved the paper.

Chad Chat! From the editors pen

When Gaby Bond heard that new friend Anie-Frid was a keen cyclist, before an accident put her in a wheel chair, she immediately set about finding a way to get her friend back on two wheels.

If only the Local Education Authority had the same sense of urgency, for when Anie-Frid's parents tried to enrol her at the local Comprehensive School, they were told that her wheelchair could be a hazard in the event of a fire.

“The fire exits were too narrow.” they said, “There were no ramps,” they said, “Other students could fall over the chair,” they said. So the LEA. Arranged for Anie-Frid, to attend a school 30 miles away. At a transport cost to the taxpayer of £800 a term.

The Chad, is not trying to suggest that the alternate school is deficient in any way, but it does beg the question, of how many fire exits could have been modified for the same cost.

The irony is that due to European Health and Safety legislation the required work was carried out over the summer. It seems that the LEA has no idea what the schools they are responsible for, actually look like.

The answer is of course that the LEA. Is one QUANGO and the Health and Safety executive is another, can we really expect them to talk to each other? Apparently not; as neither organisation had anyone available to comment.

Chairman of the school governors Mr Simon Pickard J.P. was more forthcoming “Places at special needs schools are scarce and once awarded, the LEA. Tends to forget about the student involved. If this student was transferred back into the general school system the LEA could free up a valuable place and save transport costs as well.” He assured us that he would raise the matter with his board and ask the LEA to reassess the case.

Does it really take a 13-year-old girl to show the LEA how to get things done? The Chad Say's, “WELL DONE GABY”.

It went on and on. Finishing with an appeal for readers to support the local campaign, not just give money, but to actively find ways to make life easier for the disabled. Almost every page carried some reference to disability issues and was headed with “Make a difference like Gaby”

I was shaking when Mum came back. She sat beside me.

“Hey, come on Drew, I'm very proud of you. So they got your names wrong, it doesn't matter that much; after all you didn't want a fuss did you. This way, Gaby gets all the flak and you get on with things.”

“Yes, but if people kept thinking you were a girrrr. ...” I realised what I was about to say and looked up at Mum, I started to chuckle, Mum pulled me into a hug as she joined in.

“Yer daft 'apporth. Come on eat your sarnie's, then we can get some miles in.” Ah, that explained the tracksuit Mum was wearing; I didn't think she'd have flown in that.

“In the dark?” Silly question I thought, “You mean the rollers. Right?”

“Well, you said you've been using them, so come on sunshine. I need to check something.” I quickly went to change, while Mum caught up on the mail that had piled up for her.

Once back in the kitchen, the last BLT was beckoning to me; it was looking very lonely so I put it out of its misery. Still munching my sarnie, I snagged a coke from the fridge and followed Mum to the garage.

I was all set on the rollers, when “What have you done to this, Drew?” Mum asked, as she set up her bike on the turbo.

“Oh, its set up for Maddy, remember? She's been riding it. Dad said it was okay.”

“Mmm. You mean your twin sister?” Mum laughed, “Okay. It's about time Old Faithful had a workout.” Moving things around a bit, the sky blue and gold of Mums pride and joy made an appearance.

“Why don't you ride the Bianky, Mum?”

“Ha, I'd love to; but as I'm sponsored by ‘Cannondale', it might not go down too well.” I chuckled at that. Mum abandoned her attempt at fitting the turbo to the Bianchi. I knew, she would have preferred to use the rollers any way, and now that I'd got used to them, I understood why. The concentration, required to ride the rollers, made the exercise far more demanding mentally. The turbo converted the bike to an exercise machine.

“What did you want to check Mum?” Mum waved a sheet of paper around.

“I was asking, Sammo, about you, he said he'll work out a schedule for you, but, we need a base line to work from.”

“Sammo?” I asked.

My Trainer, he's Swedish, nobody, can pronounce his real name, so everyone calls him Sammo, even Bo, and he, can, pronounce it.” Mum laughed.

Mum was getting set up, I hadn't seen her bring the bag in, but for the next 10 minutes I was poked and prodded as Mum weighed, measured and checked me, writing everything down. Finally Mum put a cuff on my upper arm and a clip thing, on my ear.

“Just relax, breathe deep and slowly for a few moments.” Mum was checking a box that everything was connected to. “Right, up you get, start slow, I'll call the task. Okay.”

Mum never did get on the Bianci, as for the next 20 minutes she put me on the rack.

“What's the verdict, will I live?” I gasped as I warmed down. That last 5 minutes was a killer, Mum had screwed the turbo up while telling me to sprint.

“Don't talk, concentrate on your breathing.” Mum told me as she watched the dials with a stopwatch still running. At last, I was allowed to dismount, and while Mum removed her toys and packed them away, I guzzled the last of my sugar fix. It was better flat.

“Go easy on that stuff, the caffeine helps, but if you take too much it'll show up on a dope test. It wrecks your teeth as well. Sammo will work out a formula for a suitable energy drink for you. In the mean time, if you must drink that stuff, decant it into a bidon, the tube helps keep it off your teeth. Okay?” Mum seemed to have raised the bar on my training regime. Why? I wondered.

“Very impressive recovery Drew, even after a week on the sick, just how many hours have you done?”

“I felt pretty bad after an hour, Friday, but I've got six in since Monday, Mum.”

Of course you'd better get used to this before you get to Manchester next month.”

“Er … M M Manchester?” I finally stammered out.

“You haven't read your letter have you?”

“Wh. What letter?”

“ Your Dad said its been on the mantle since Tuesday, don't you read your mail?”

“But I don't get mail; I mean nobody writes to me. … Er have you read it?”

“Certainly not, it's addressed to you! But it's got a Manchester postmark and Sport UK on the back.”

“But why are they writing to me? And how do you know they want me in Manchester?”

“Just call it an educated guess. …For heavens sake Drew, go and read it.”

Well I did read it, and Mum was right as usual. The three-page letter basically asked me to volunteer the use of my body for one day of tests at the department of sports medicine of UMIST. And another at Sport UK HQ … At the Velo.

“Saturday and Sunday, that's not so bad Mum.”

“Read it again Drew, they want you for a full seven days.” Mum was reading over my shoulder.

“UMIST want to monitor your metabolism from Monday to Friday, testing on Saturday, Sport UK assessment Sunday. I'll have to write to Mr Woods for you, that is if you want to do it.” I must have had my stupid face on.

“They're asking you to volunteer, Drew, you don't have to go. You can just do the Sunday if you like; it might not be a good idea to upset Sport UK.” (Sport UK, are responsible for the way most of the sponsorship gets allocated)

“There's a contact number here, I'll ring it.”

I picked up the letter again; just what sort of test takes a week? I wondered how Timber was going to take it; I'd already lost a week of this term. I looked in the envelope and found a brochure about the university showing the various departments and the work they do, and a thought struck me, just how old did they think I was? …. “Mum?”

Mum waved me over. Late or not she'd managed to get hold of somebody.

“… Is that all? … So what does he do for the rest of the time? … Plenty, he's only thirteen remember. …Any department? … Really, what about languages? … I thought so. … You will if you want him there … Do that, but make it quick, I'm only here this evening and we're going out later.” My heart sank. It must have shown.

“What's the matter Drew?”

“You want to go out?” Shit here it comes

“Of course, Juliet is playing tonight we have to support her.” Whoosh, I let the air out in relief, Okay it wasn't as good as staying home, but it beat the hell out of going for a meal. Mum pulled me to her and ruffled my hair. “I didn't want to go out either,” Mum Laughed “but this is better isn't it.”

“Yeah Mum, where is Jules anyway?”

“Out for a run, she should be back soon, I hear you went out with her Sunday, how did that go?”

“I don't think I'm built for jogging Mum.” Which set her giggling again.

“And what's this about you playing Agony Aunt?”

“You spoke to Dad?”

“No, I spoke to Jules before she went out, you seem to be scoring brownie points all round.”

“But I didn't do anything.”

“Of course you did, you listened to her, she wanted to talk and you were there. Don't expect her to say thanks mind, but she did appreciate it and so do I.” I got another hug on the strength of that, though I still havn't worked out why.

“I'd better ring Maddy, and tell her about the sports centre.”

“So don't you want to know about UMIST?”

“Yes what did they say?”

“Well the tests aren't a problem you'll eat them. The problem is you hanging around doing nothing for a week while they feed you.”

“HUH? Sounds real hard Mum.” I laughed

“They want to monitor your food intake for a week, to find out how efficiently you convert different foods to energy. So you'll have someone measuring everything you eat and the amount of physical work you do each day, with workouts at different times.

I told them, they'd have to come up with a better educational reason for you being there before I signed off on it, I'm sure Mr Woods would say the same.”

“And? … Did they?”

“This could cost them more than they had in mind. They said you could sit in on any classes or lectures that interested you. So, I suggested you use the language laboratory while you're there. They said they'd ring back.”

“Languages? How much can I learn in a week? I've heard them practising French in school, it sounds awfully hard Mum.”

“They run intensive courses, normally for businesses. Just think Drew, you could be speaking German or French within a week.”

“Do you really think I could handle that Mum, it sounds a bit much to me?” My visions of a cushy week were fading fast.

“Well, it was either that or Particle Physics, but I don't think you've got the Math for that, anyway, Kat, learnt English easily enough, why should you have trouble with German?”

“Mu, um.”

“I told them to make it work or it doesn't happen, it's about the only way you'll get any benefit out of it. And you'll need some Euro-speak next year. That reminds me have you had your licence back yet?”

“Back? It hasn't been anywhere.”

“You mean you haven't applied for an upgrade yet?”

“Upgrade?”

“Come on Drew read the rule book, if you make 15 points in your races you can apply to go up a class.”

“But that would mean racing against 14 and 15 year olds.”

“So, you've beaten most of them before…And you get to ride a bigger gear, that's not such a big deal, but I'm sure Josh will have applied.” I was pretty sure about that too; no way would Joshes Dad let that pass.

Did I miss something?

“Mum, why will I need German next year?”

“Er well no real reason it's just a useful skill to have. Don't you think so?

“Mum, you said that as though you've already planned some thing.”

“Moi? … Oh, all right, I want you to enter some of the Dutch and Belgian trials next year. They're only a ferry ride away and you'll get a lot of experience. The UMIST thing will tie in perfectly. Hey, if you want a shower you'd better go now, before Jules gets back. Go on.”

I scooted up the stairs, remembering to ring Maddy first. “Goody, I'll ring Freddie.” Was all we had time for. Holland and Belgium. Wow, could I really do it, was I good enough? I was building a right lather and it wasn't the shower gel.

Reasoning that Jules would want a knock up before her match, I selected my shorts and singlet to wear under my tracksuit.

"Fit Drew?" Mum called as I stuffed a towel into my gym bag and headed for the stairs.

The drive to the sports centre was unusual, a full car, it seemed a long time since that happened. Jules was fidgeting alongside me.

"What's up, Jules?" I asked.

"Just trying to psych myself up for the match Drew, I, intend to win tonight." She said the words but I could tell Jules was nervous. Mum turned in her seat.

"Just remember, Jules, 'Control', you've got the skills but you must control them, Control your mind and you'll control the game."

"Easier said than done, Mum."

"Yes it is, but without control you've already lost. Just, keep calm, remember the exercise. You'll be fine."

“You okay to warm up with me Drew?” She reached for my arm.

“Yeah, I remembered my kit this time.”

“Thanks Drew.” Wow, thanks as well, Mum had turned back so I whispered. “Talked to Gareth yet?” She shook her head. As I looked up I realised that mum was watching me in the rear view.

“Who's…?” Dad started.

“HEY Dad, did mum tell you about my letter?” I butted in. He nodded but didn't add anything, as he was busy trying to park. Jules gave my arm a squeeze “thank you” she mouthed at me; “sorry” I mouthed back after making sure Mum wasn't looking at me.

“SpoooooKY.” Jules said as the background noise in the main hall gradually built back up to normal levels. Two seconds after we entered it had started getting quieter as conversations stopped. Mum just carried on as though nothing had happened, but even Dad was a bit rattled when somebody held out a pen and paper for Mums autograph. Jules checked the board for her matches, forty minutes to the first match so we headed for the practice courts and staked our claim to one.

There was no sign of Maddy yet, Jules dropped her bag next to the net and started to sort the racquets as I peeled my tracksuit off.

“How do you want to do this?” I asked as we both started the stretches to warm up

“Keep serving to me so I can practice the returns, then swap, if it goes okay move onto lobs and drops, Okay.” Jules tossed me two tubes of shuttles and I emptied the lot at the base line. They were the grotty ones that had seen better days; they didn't last long in competition so they soon got relegated for practice. It was a point of honour for Jules not to use the plastic ones.

Pretty soon I was out of ammunition, so we retrieved the shuttles and changed ends to repeat the exercise. Jules was concentrating on placing the returns to awkward spots on the court. After another round of pickup and straighten the feathers, Jules started serving. That didn't last so long as Jules started to lob any shuttle that I managed to return.

Jules was devastatingly accurate; able to drop the shuttle anywhere she wanted. I was soon getting ragged as I ran all over the court, with Jules hardly moving while playing to my worst stroke, the backhand.

“Hey Drew” I picked myself off my knees yet again and looked up.

“Maddy, give us a hand here.” I implored her

“This one?” Mad held up a bandaged right hand.

“Shit, what have you done?”

“Its road rash, the drive was slippery from the rain, and I went down as I walked to the car, that's why I'm late.”

“You okay?” I asked holding her gauze wrapped hand.

“Yeah, Mum got the gravel out, but it's too sore to hold a racquet. Sorry Drew.”

“Hey Drew, put Maddy down, I'm getting cold here.” Jules called as she bounced from one foot to the other.

“Go on Drew you can do it, remember the sports day?” Maddy urged. That didn't help much; it was Gaby that won not Drew if you see what I mean.

After ending up on my knees yet again, Maddy came over. “Come on Drew,” she hissed then whispered “Imagine you've got tits.”

“What?”

“It works for Gaby.” she grinned.

I took my ready position, while Jules made ready to serve. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Maddy. She had her arms folded and was bouncing her boobs slowly.

I cracked up laughing, that caused Jules to fluff the serve. Mad just whistled and pretended to look at the next court.

Maybe Maddy was right; I tried to remember the feel of the bra and what it did to my stance. Jules served and I managed to get it back, it went high and I knew what was going to happen next, a smash to my backhand. I started to move but yet again it fell just beyond my reach.

Mad gave me a stern look, cupping her hands in front. Her meaning clear.

The next serve was a carbon copy of the last, but this time I made it, Jules had come to the net and the shuttle sailed over her head and plopped onto the back corner of the court.”

“Yes!” yelled Maddy. Okay. It was only one shot, but it felt good. Hey, little victories are important too.

Two serves later it happened again.

“Way to go, lefty!” Freddie's voice sailed in from behind me.

“What?” I looked and sure enough the racquet was in my left hand. I hadn't played a backhand at all.

“If you're going to bring a cheer squad to warm ups, then I think its time to quit. Hi Maddy, Hi Fred.” laughed Jules as she started picking up the errant shuttles.

“Five minutes to go, just right. Thanks for that Drew, good warm up.” Jules surprised all of us when she gave me a hug after pulling her hoody on.

“Wow, how long has that been going on?” asked Maddy, as Jules headed off to her match.

“What?”

“Juliet, being nice to you.”

“Since Sunday, I'm just enjoying it while it lasts, no doubt she'll be back to normal before long.”

“But why?” now I had a problem, do I tell Mad about it or not. Maybe she knew the mystery Gareth.

“Mad, do you know anyone in the fifth form, by the name of Gareth?”

“Ah, now I get it, Jules is in Lurve.” Mad giggled.

“I, didn't say that, so don't spoil it, it's been a very quiet week and I'd like it to last. Okay.”

Mad was cracking up while Freddie looked on in confusion.

“So that's not the normal Jules then.”

“No Fred, that's Jekyl, normal is Hyde. About right for any brother and older sister act. Juliet has definitely got it bad.” I chuckled.

“Oh. What's it like? Having a sister I mean.”

“Well from my point of view ‘Hell on Earth', from Jules point of view its ‘Hell on Earth' too.”

“Nooo, Drew, it can't be that bad surely.… Sometimes, I wish I had a brother or sister, someone to talk to. Beside Mum and Dad I mean.”

That slowed down our laughter, Dot had told us last week that Fred was lonely I just hadn't realised how much.

“Well, we don't really hate each other, just, sort of infuriate each other now and again. Some times it's good…” I trailed off as I realised that we didn't talk much, not about things that worried us, Sunday was the first time Jules had ever let on that she was unsure of anything. So this Gareth thing must be pretty heavy stuff to Jules…

“Earth to Voyager, come in voyager.” Maddy laughed as she waved her hand in front of me.

“Sorry…Come on let's get closer so we can watch.” Fred and Mad were grinning at each other.”

“What?” I asked.

“Nothing.” They both said together.

“Mad said your Mum was coming, is she here?”

“Yes, on the stands, there. That's weird; I've never seen that before.” I pointed at the stands.

Mum and dad were sitting on the fourth tier, right on the net line. The prime spot, yet nobody sat in front of them, in fact, nobody was siting within a couple of metres of them. There weren't that many people there, but they were grouped around Mum and Dad, leaving that gap. It looked like those pictures from parliament when the MP's group together for the cameras.

Every so often, someone would get up and ask Mum for an autograph, return to their seats before the next person got up. All very orderly and restrained, it must have been driving Mum mad, but she just sat there with a smile and signed.

Eventually as the match started, Mum raised her hand and pointed at the court. We watched in amazement as the boy simply returned to his seat.

No way was Fred going to manage the pullout stand, so we perched to one side Fred still in her chair, as Jules set about demoralising her opponent.

Hi Girl's!” came from behind us, looking around towards the voice, I struggled to put a name to the face.

“Oh, Hi, Gaza. Wassup? No squash tonight?”

“My partner cried off and there were no loose players, so I had to let the court go. … Saw your picture in the Rag, cool, … Er, I'm a bit confused though. … You're Sisters?”

“Er, no cousins actually. Just one of the many cockup's the Chad is famous for.”

“Second cousins, removed a bit.” Added Maddy.

“Phew, that's a relief, er, I mean, well what I…”

“Gaza, that's Gareth right?” Maddy asked, he nodded and a light started to glow in the back of my mind.

“Are you in the fifth?” I asked.

“Er yeah.” I glanced round; Jules was playing away from us.

“She's good, who is she do you know?” Gaza, asked, Mad smirked.

“Scuse us Fred, back in a mo.” I pushed Gaza towards the end of the bench, while Mad pulled, hopping down to the side of the stand towards the door. If Gaza was, the Gareth, I didn't want to risk Jules seeing him, in case it put her off.

“What are you doing?”

“Pop Quiz.” Maddy laughed

“How many Gareth's, are there in the Fifth.” I started.

“Two. What is this?”

“Including you?” Mads turn.

“Yeah.”

“And you play rugby, Right?” Gaza nodded.

“What position?” I asked

“Second row and Loose head sometimes. Come on Maddy what is this?” Mad collapsed laughing against the wall

“That's Maddy, I'm Drew. That's another thing the Chad got wrong.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Mad had subsided to a continuous giggle, punctuated by a regular hiccup.

“You Okay Mad?”

“Need, some water.” She hicked.

“I'll get it.” Gaza volunteered,

“Wait, Can you get five, apple flavour?” I fished out a fiver.

“Thanks Gaz, we'll be inside Okay?” He loped off on his errand.

“Drew, what are you doing?”

“I'm making sure Jules meets her prince, Gareth.” I held the door open, and we returned just in time to see Jules take service for the last two points; letting out a whoop as she shook hands with her opponent.

“Drew? Can you get your Mum to autograph this?” Freddie pulled out her battered picture.

“Sure, but why not ask her yourself?”

“I can't, there's so many…” she tailed off. Now the game was over, people had resumed asking Mum for autographs, I chuckled to myself. There couldn't be many that didn't have one.

“If you don't follow me now, I'll get Maddy to push you. Right Mad?” Maddy grinned and nodded. Mum had her head down, so I did it the easy way.

“Dad!” I called, waving and pointing at Freddie in the chair. Dad whispered to Mum, who looked up and then came down the stand grinning.

I have never seen such polite autograph hunters; they just parted and let her through. I seriously doubted that any other section of the centre had any people in it, as the numbers had swollen considerably.

Gareth returned with the water and started handed the bottles out just as Mum reached us.

“Who's this one for?” he asked

“Oh. Can you give it to my sister, Jules, look she's over there ...packing her kit? I think she'll be needing it.” He gave a lopsided smile before going.

“Drew, you devious little Shite!” Maddy whispered at me.

“Who was that Drew?” Asked Mum

“Oh. We just met him, said his name was Gareth, Mum.” Dad's eyes narrowed a bit as he watched Gareth's retreating back, Mum just giggled.

“I think Maddy may be right Drew.”

“Mum this is…”

“The famous Anie-Frid. Hello, I think you're very brave, getting on that tandem with this tearaway.” Fred seemed to have lost her voice, but Mum gave her, her undivided attention and gradually drew her out.

“Did you want me to sign something, Anie-frid?” she produced her picture.

“Oh, I think we can do better than that.” Mum turned towards dad. “Dave, pass my case, would you?” Dad was too busy watching Jules. “Dave! The case?”

“Sorry pet, I was…”

“Miles away …Leave her be, Dave, she needs some space.”

Dad handed over the brief case. And Mum quickly produced some 8x10's from it.

Freddie's eyes were like organ stops as she looked at the ‘glossie's'. One was of Mum in action in Paris, the other wearing the Maillot on the podium with that teddy bear.

“How about a swap. I'll trade two of these, if you'll sign one for me.”

“You want me…”

“Ah, holding out for more, huh … What if I throw one of these in?” Mum made a big production out of rummaging in the case before pulling out another 8x10.

“Deal!” Freddie quickly replied. Mum was looking at me as she started to laugh. I hadn't seen the photo, when I did, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

“It's alright, Drew, I've got lots of spares.” Mum giggled, handed me a pen, and waited for me to sign it, before handing it to Freddie with the others.

Talk about embarrassing, is that cheesy, or what?

“What did you want me to sign, Mrs Bond?” Freddie asked and Mum pulled out a copy of the Chad.

“ Maybe later would be better. Do you want me to hold onto those for you? They might get creased.”

”Yes please.” Freddie said. While I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn't want to deal with that, given the number of people around.

“I'd better get back, Mum will be wondering where I've got to. And, all my kit's still out. Come on, Drew, I'll show you how it's done. You need building up.” Freddie giggled.

As we made our way passed the courts, Jules and Gareth appeared to be getting along fine.

“Have you another match, Jules?” I asked, as we got near.

“Yes, Drew, in about 20 minutes.” It might be my imagination, but I swear she never took her eyes off Gareth, as we walked passed.

Mrs T. waved as we entered; she appeared to be deep in conversation with a few other members of the archery club.

Freddie spent the next five minutes, explaining the various pieces of kit that she used. And then gave us a demonstration. All three arrows, finding their mark in the gold centre of the target.

“Right, your turn.” Freddie said, as she produced two fibreglass bows. “I'll give you some longer than normal arrows; it can get dangerous if they're too short. Who's first?”

After fiddling with a glass headed pin attached to the bow, Freddie said.

“This is your sight, when you come up into the aim centre it on the gold.”

“Oh, and you'll need these.” Fred held out two leather objects. “This is called a brace.” She added as she fastened the straps on Maddy's arm. “It's even more important if your arms are bare.” Which mine were. “Mad you'd better wear this as well.” She held up a triangle of leather, and pointed at some of the lady archers. All of them and some of the men were wearing the triangles.

“It's a chest brace, stops you getting pinged by the string when you loose.”

“I'll go first, just for a change.” Maddy giggled, as she fiddled with the buckles.

“Are you sure you can manage, with that hand?”

“I think so, Fred. It's the palm that hurts, my fingers are okay.”

Freddie watched carefully as Maddy knocked the arrow. “Use the pin as a sight.” Freddie told her as Maddy took careful aim, and loosed her first arrow. (Apparently, you don't fire a bow.)

Maddy grinned as the arrow slapped into the target. All right, it wasn't in the centre, but she had managed to hit a one-metre target at her first attempt.

“Cool!” Said Maddy, after the third arrow, all three arrows in the bottom left of the target.

Not bad, said Freddie, as she fiddled with the pin.

“Makes your fingertips sting though.” Laughed Maddy.

“I'll give you a ‘Tab' for your fingers later, but it's important to feel the string for the first few times.”

There was a crunching sound, and a few sarcastic cheer's and slow hand clapping, came from further down the line.

“What is going on?” I asked.

“Robin Hood shot.” Freddie giggled. As she pointed out that target 3, had, what appeared to be a 2metre arrow sticking out of it.

“Wow! Does that happen a lot?”

“It does at this range, Drew, but, it's not something we try to do. It gets expensive.”

“Does he have to buy a round of drinks?” Maddy asked.

“No, but if that was a pair of match arrows. Its all ready cost him, £20.”

“Oh!” I said, looking at the aluminium arrow in my hand.

“Don't worry Drew, these are practise arrows.” Freddie giggled.

Unlike Maddy's my first arrow whizzed past the target, harmlessly hitting the netting at the back. I was reaching for the second as a whistle sounded and someone shouted “FAST!”

“Put the bow down, Drew, you too Maddy; that's the signal for the finish of the end.”

“CLEAR!” Came another shout, and people started moving forward to retrieve their arrows.

“Leave ours, I want to check something. Drew, can you stand by the net.” Fred led me to the net then called the man with the whistle.

“Geoff! Can you do the eye test?” Geoff waved and went to the opposite net, he stood with his back to the net and Fred made me do the same.

Geoff pointed at his own right eye. “Drew, point at Geoff's eye. … Now with the other hand, Drew.” Geoff waved his left hand and went back to supervising the line.

“What was all that about?” Fred was looking sheepish.

“Drew promise you won't get angry? … you're, left eye dominant.”

“What's that mean?”

“It means you should be holding the bow in your right hand Drew, shooting left handed.”

“But I'm not left-handed.”

“It's not about that; it's about using your best eye. That's generally the dominant one.” Fred repositioned brace to my right arm.

“Try It, Drew. If it's so awkward you can't manage, then you can try an eye-patch, but that's a pain.”

Talk about weird; it wasn't as awkward as I expected, it just felt … weird. Probably, because I was now facing Maddy.

“Mad giggled as she tried to line up her shot. “You'd better go first Drew.”

“Why?”

“Because, I can't concentrate with you looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Come on you two; concentrate, you're supposed to be shooting, not staring into each other's eyes. Try changing places.”

That seemed to help; we were now standing back to back.

This time I had more success, and my first arrow hit bottom left of the boss, my second clipping the gold.

“Drew, did you aim at the gold for that shot?”

“No, I saw where the first arrow went, and then aimed high and right. Why?”

“Grrrr. Just keep on the gold Drew, the score doesn't matter I'm looking for consistency. What if the first arrow had been a bad shot, you might have missed altogether. Try again, but aim at the gold, Okay”

Suitably told off, I sent the third arrow close to the first.

“Right, now we know it wasn't a fluke, we can do something about it.” Fred fiddled with the pin before handing me another arrow. “Put that one down.”

I was rewarded with a hit, just cutting the gold, a shade low.

“See what happens when you do as you're told, Drew?”

I grinned; Maddy was grinning too, her arrows had landed close together just above the gold.

The whistle sounded again and we went forward to retrieve the arrows.

Both of us were blowing on our fingers as we walked back, Maddy her right hand and me the left. I had a feeling that maybe blister's were in my horoscope for tomorrow.

“I think your sister's match will have started by now Drew. Did you want to see it?” asked Freddie “It's Ok; Mum will give me hand to pack my kit. It doesn't take long.” She added, already unstringing the bow. Now that was cool. Fred had a length of cord with leather cups on each end. She slipped a cup on each end and held the bow at the centre, allowing the cord to dangle in a loop. Hooking the loop under the footrest of the chair, she pulled up on the bow, tensioning the cord but releasing the bowstring. As Fred eased the bow back down the bowstring was completely released and she was able to lay the whole thing into an aluminium flight case.

“Go on, I'll be right behind you.” Fred shooed us out. After that demonstration it was obvious that Freddie could cope. I still felt guilty about it though.

Angela Peters 24.09.04 (revised 23.12.04) © 2004

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