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Questions - A Gaby Fanfic

Part 24

Mrs. T guided the chair passed the steps into the club and into the car-park at the rear of the club. The fire doors into the concert room had been thrown wide and people were using them as free access as they ferried styrene cups around. Just as we were passing, another fire door rattled open and 'bowler hat', poked his head out. “Through here Maggie, it's a little crowded down there.”

“Thank you Bill.” Mrs T. replied as she headed for the door.

“I need to find a safe place for the bikes first.” I told her; the only option seemed to be to chain them to the railing at the far side, but I didn't fancy that.

“I'll check with the committee, there's probably a lockup they use.”

A land-rover and horsebox seemed to be taking more than its fair share of the car park. The ramp was down and I could see ‘Marcus' already on board. Stacy was trying to unbuckle Poppies saddle while the man in the wax jacket changed the bridle.

“Dad, can you help me? He's doing it again.” Stacy left the saddle and stood in front of poppy and wagged her finger at him. Poppy stepped forward and lowered his head. “No, you're not getting a scratch,” she continued huffily, standing hands on hips, “You're not a Labrador, you're a pony.” Poppy wasn't giving up and shoved his head under Stacy's arm, nosing at the pocket of her tweed jacket. “And there's nothing in there for you either.” She added as she turned her back on him. Stacy saw us then and grinned.

Taking a small notebook out of her pocket she pretended to study it. Poppy promptly nudged her in the back, forcing her to take a step forward, this happened three or four times, before Stacy eventually lifted her head from the book, Poppy then put his head over her shoulder, much to the amusement of the small crowd that had come out to watch. It looked as though he was reading the book over her shoulder.

Stacy acknowledged the applause for her party trick by taking a bow, which of course earned her another nudge in the back from Poppy. I had visions of the entire thing repeating itself but Stacy waved us over.

“Come and meet Poppy.” Stacy called; she finally gave him a scratch behind the ear as he reached down for the carrot she was holding. We were both a little nervous standing so close to Poppy. He may have been a small pony but those hoofs had a lot of weight behind them. “Where's your friend?”

“Anie-Frid, er, she may not want to come near Poppy. It was a horse that put her in the wheel chair.” Stacy's face fell, it was a bit blunt I know, but there was no other way of putting it. “I'll check.” I told her as I saw her watching us from the door. Maddy, started to tell her about her accident.

Freddie knew what I was going to ask and was already shaking her head when I reached her. “No, Drew I can't.” she said firmly, as I was about to speak.

“Anie-Frid's not afraid Drew, she's still angry, I'm afraid it might be a while before she's ready for that.”

Stacy was all ready to load Poppy into the box when I got back to them “It's alright Gaby, Maddy explained; it was probably a race horse, and they're all crazy anyway.”

“Not all of them,” her father put in quickly, “Look, take one of our cards, if you can get her to visit the farm it might help. We have lots of school visits and we're part of the riding for the disabled scheme. Being around the other animals first, might help your friend; just give us a ring and we'll set it up.” That seemed like a good Idea to us, so we said our goodbyes and headed back to Freddie, as Stacy led Poppy calmly into the box.

“Bill?” Mrs. T pointed out the bikes. He hesitated then threw both doors wide.

“No ones using the stage, they can go up there.” He smiled. We found ourselves at the side of the stage, neatly avoiding the crush around the catering tables further down. ‘Bill' was looking around and spotted one of the soldiers, calling him over to hoist the bikes onto the stage. It wasn't very high, I would have done it myself if I had figured out how to get up there.

“Hey, Bill, is that theere ‘t, raffle preeze?” someone shouted. ( trans: is that the raffle prize?)

“No it isn't! So don't get any ideas, George; not that you couldn't do with some exercise.” Chuckled Bill.

“Anything else, Sir,” the trooper came smartly to attention in front of us.

“No thank you, trooper, are they looking after you all right?”

“Yes sir, appen they are sir.” He stiffened again before returning to the others.

It's funny how everyone congregated near the tables that held the urn's, when there were lots of empty tables at this end. We had no trouble commandeering one and it didn't take long before the rest of our clan ended up with us.

“You haven't got drinks yet?” asked Paul as he reached us with Clive in tow, “I'll get them, who want's what? They've got tea, coffee, chocolate and Italian curry.”

“What's Italian Curry?” Freddy asked, her jaw hanging open, I laughed, as I knew what was coming.

“Well, it's really Minestrone, but it's hot enough for curry.” Paul chuckled. He was still chuckling as he disappeared with our order.

“He was at the sports centre, wasn't he?” Freddie asked, “The one that lost his niece.”

“That's the muppet, forget his head if it tweren't glued on, would Paul.” Maddy laughed.

“Hey! don't upset him, he's helping with that talk I've got to give on Friday.” I pointed out.

“A useful muppet then.” Mad allowed.

“So you don't want to help us on Friday?” I asked; Mad gave me a puzzled look. “Well you don't really want to be stuck in class while we're having fun do you?”

“Oh, riiiiiiight.” Maddy laughed.

“Hey Drew, I see you're all still in one piece. It went all right then?” I looked up in surprise as Jules and Gareth joined us. Jules had her hands full with a tray of drinks and food and directed operations as Gareth pulled another table over. Did you know there was food over there?” she asked.

“Food as well? No, Paul's getting the drinks in though.” I said as Jules sat down. While Gareth went off to help Paul, for the first time I had a chance to look around the large hall it was almost as large as the one at the community centre. The stage behind us took the whole width of the room. The permanent seating around the edge was plush covered benches built in semi circles, small tables and chairs now occupied the central area that could be cleared for dancing.

I'd seen posters advertising the various events at the club before, indeed there were a few up around the walls; ‘ Bingo every Wed's at the ‘MEM' proclaimed one, ‘Ladies night', another. The bar, now with towels over the beer engines, took up a third of the long side opposite the fire doors, and there were two entrances on either side of the bar into the remainder of the club. There must have been at least one other bar as a few people had drinks that didn't look like tea to me.

Two large TV's, one on the stage and a smaller one near the bar both showing yesterdays sports results with the sound turned down. Few people seemed to be watching them, in fact most seemed oblivious to them as they chatted about the parade, or caught up with the local gossip.

Being here for the first time and with so many olds around, we kept a low profile, but we loosened up when Paul and Gareth returned with the drinks “There's sarnie's and stuff up there as well, but we didn't know what everyone wanted, so if your hungry you'll have to get it yourself.” I was about to make a move when I saw the colonel approaching with Timber in tow, so I waited.

He was much older than I'd first thought, his thin grey hair gave him a distinguished look, yet without his overcoat he seemed sort of frail and walked with a slight limp.”

“I was just telling your headmaster how well you all did this morning, thank you; it was a splendid turn out.”

“Thank you Colonel, but I'd like to have seen more of the senior's today.” Timber had been hovering, keeping an eye on us.

“I've told you before Timber, there's no rank in this mess, the name is Bill.” he said firmly. I thought timber was about to protest but Bill added “We're all here for the same reasons today, and my rules apply in here.”

“On your own head be it then Bill.” Timber conceded as he cast a stern look around the table; which we all knew meant ‘Behave yourselves'.

“Oh while you're here Drew, Barfords are going to supply the bikes for Friday, there sending their wagon along and will do a free safety check for anyone that wants one. So I hope you're prepared for your talk.”

“I think so, Paul is helping with the video, and we're taking more photos this afternoon.” “That's still on, isn't it?” I asked Paul.

“Yes, no probs, Oh, and dad gave me this last night.” Paul reached into his coat and pulled out a CD case, “He put the video onto DVD and there's a three minute intro on there as well. But you might….”

“Whats this? Asked Bill

“Drew Bond here is doing a sponsored cycle ride for the Telethon this Friday, with a talk for the first years in the afternoon. With Barfords interested as well it's going to be quite an event.” Timber told him

“Really! I'd like to see that.” “Hey Smudger! Will that contraption of yours play this?” Bill took the disk and waived it at a guy in a white jacket who had been carrying trays of food around.

“Err, sorry Drew, I wanted you to see that first.” Paul whispered to me as ‘Smudger' took the disk behind the bar.

“It probably won't play; it's just the files, right?”

“Well, the Promo might.” Just about every head in the place turned to the big screen as the picture changed to a spinning black and white clock, showing a count down that disappeared at three. The screen showed Mum and me during the tandem trial screaming down the bypass at Nottingham, even overtaking cars (Okay they had been slowing for the exit, but it was still impressive) as the title showed “Cycling the Bond way”

“Where the hell did you get that?” I asked as the crashing chords of “Eye of the Tiger” boomed out of the sound system. “That wasn't on the tapes I gave you.” The cutting was tight, every few chords the picture would change right on the beat, alternating between shots of Mum and me at the various events over the past year. The only shots of Mum and me together, I realised, were those on the tandem. All the rest were from Italy, Spain, in fact just about every European country was shown, interleaved with my races here. I was getting more and more depressed as those around me seemed to be getting more excited by the video.

“A lot of the stuff on your tape wasn't really that good, so dad asked the News Archives for more.” Paul told me.

“But they charge, don't they? When Dad asked about it he was quoted a stupid amount.”

There was a collective gasp as it showed my argument with the cobbles at Newark and I was astounded by the cheer that went up as I remounted and headed for the line. That was cut with Mums blow-out, before cutting to Joshes blow-out and crash after I'd squeaked through. It finished with shots of me and Mum with the championship medals, and I breathed a sigh of relief that some of my other podium appearances weren't shown.

There was a stunned silence for a few seconds as a set of very professional looking credits and acknowledgments rolled up the screen.

“Bloody hell!” someone said from the bar, which seemed to break the trance and people started to applaud, while I made a serious effort to slide under the table; only to be hauled back up by my darling sister.

“Ooooh, no you don't,” Jules hissed in my ear, “The least you can do is say thanks on Mums behalf.” Jules gave me a pinch causing me to jerk upright just as Bill started to speak.

“Lady's and Gents, I'm sure you all know the Bond's by now and we're all very proud of their achievements and their efforts to put Church Warsop on the map. Mr Wood the headmaster tells me, that this Friday, Young Drew Bond will be riding a sponsored marathon for the children's telethon and he has sponsor forms with him, but to save time I'm going to ask Smudger to pass the bucket around, I know I can count on your usual generosity.”

“He can't do that!” I protested.

“And, why not Drew? Timber asked.

“Well I thought any money collected today would go to the poppy fund.”

“Mmm, you will have to ask the colonel that; but as he said, he's the boss in here.”

“Drew, it might help if you go around with Smudger, then if anyone asks, you can explain what it's all about.” Bill told me before I had a chance to say anything.

“Come on then shrimp,” Smudger said, “we'll start on the other bars. If we work quick the punters won't have a chance to escape.” He chuckled, as he collected a bright orange bucket from the bar. As he checked it was empty, I noticed the skin on his right hand didn't look right, it had large pale blotches, and they were shiny as though the skin was tight. He was tall, (Okay everyone's taller than me) but slim, and he seemed to stand side on when he spoke to anyone. When I looked closer I could see why, the whole right side of his face was like his hand, showing as paler than the left side, it had that tight look right into his hair line, and that was higher than normal, he'd shaved his left sideburn high to match.

“Why, do they call you Smudger?” I asked as we moved into the corridor.

“Ha! It's Navy-speak for anyone called Smith, most ratings get named early in their careers, either from their names or where they come from; if I was Welsh, I'd be Taff I suppose. Sometimes you get named for the job you do or from stuff that happens. On the ‘Shiny' I was Muff; but I'm not saying how I got that.” He chuckled.

"The Shiny? What's that?" I asked

"The Shiny Sheff, HMS Sheffield; Ecky-Thump! What are they teaching at that school? I'm going to have a word with Timber, later." Smudge said as we entered the bar.

“Roight yous lot, dig deep!” Called Smudge in a loud voice. There was a collective groan when they saw the bucket. “Now, now! This here shrimp is going to be putting a maximum effort in for the telethon, so I think he deserves maximum effort from us. Come on now, you've seen the video, who's going to be first?”

“Was that you on the video?” a guy in a smart suit asked.

"And my Mum, yes"

"You looked bigger on the bike." I wasn't sure how to answer that; oh well, when in doubt just smile. It must have been a compliment because he pulled out a twenty pound note and threw it into the bucket.

“That's no good, you need something to rattle, to encourage the others,” said a rather large lady who had been feeding the bandit in the corner. She reached into her bowl of coins, and then threw a handful into the bucket. It went on like that all around the room until I could barely hold the bucket; let, alone rattle it.

We managed to catch Mr T and his troopers before their bus took them back to barracks. By the time we got back to the hall my arms felt as though they were coming out of their sockets. I couldn't believe that people could be so generous; not all as generous as the first two, but even so …

“They're used to it.” Was all Smudger said when I asked about it.

Back in the hall, we found that Bill had roped Jules and Maddy in as well. I gratefully let Smudger hoist the bucket onto the table to join theirs.

“Mmm, not a bad haul; I've seen better, but not bad for a Sunday.” Bill informed us.

“Not bad? It's fantastic, I never expected anything like this, but shouldn't it go in your appeal?" I asked.

"Well as a charity we can't give to another charity, but our members can give to anything they choose. Besides, we use 'Pub Raids' ourselves to collect money ; it wouldn't look very good if we refused others would it? Now, do you want to see what you've got there? If we count it now, I can write a cheque."

"Good idea, Bill. That will save me a lot of worry." Timber agreed for me. But I was just as curious as the others.

We ended up surrounding another table as we sorted the coins into piles "Don't worry about counting it for now, just make sure they're not mixed." Bill told us. I had visions of being there all afternoon, but with a dozen of us around the table we soon had eight piles of coins and a thin bundle of notes. Smudger produced some cloth bags and we soon had the table cleared, leaving a small pile of foreign coins. "Don't worry about those," Bill told us, "The Euros are no problem and we have a few collectors that will have the rest.

With that out of the way, I headed for the Gents to wash my hands; the old saying, 'Where there's muck there's brass' works both ways. My fingers were distinctly icky after sorting that lot.

When I returned, Bill was weighing the bags on a digital scale, while Timber did the sums on a pad. We were all curious as to how much we had collected, but Timber said nothing as Bill wrote out a cheque, handed it to him before going to the stage and taking the microphone.

"Ladies and gentlemen Mr Woods, the headmaster of Warsop College, has asked me to thank you all for your contributions today, which came to six hundred and seventy three pounds," As a good MC should, he paused to let the noise die before continuing. "I'm sure you join with me in wishing Warsop College well and of course Drew Bond in their fund raising efforts for this Fridays Telethon. I also want to thank him and his students for helping to swell our ranks this morning. Thank you Timber." There were several calls of "Here, Here!" and I felt my face burn yet again as people applauded.

The gang started drifting away after that. Jules and Gareth had disappeared shortly after the count, and just to make our day it had rained while we were in the club. It had eased now; you couldn't call it rain anymore, just the dank mizzle that left you feeling wetter than if you'd been caught in a real shower. At least it meant that Mrs T had no argument about going home in the car. Paul reckoned the light was too bad to take photos; we'd have to settle for slides and drawings unless another opportunity came up.

I did offer Paul a lift on the rear seat, but after a rather hilarious attempt to get his feet on the foot rests, he accepted a lift with Freddie. It was just as well, he'd have been soaked.

Mrs T, probably wanted to keep an eye on us, as she followed us most of the way back to my place, she needn't have worried, the village had resumed sleepy Sunday afternoon status, and the roads were much quieter now.

Our waterproofs kept the road crud off, but we still looked like drowned rats when got back. Maddy grabbed the bag and went in to change, while I risked getting wetter hosing the crud off the bikes.

I was just putting the hose away when I spied Jules and Gareth; they looked very cosy sharing an umbrella as they walked to the door, any thoughts they might have had of getting cosier on the sofa, were put on hold as a car pulled onto the drive.

“Oh, great, another volunteer.” Carol chuckled, as she got out of her car. “Well, don't just stand there; take those boxes into the kitchen. Chop, Chop.”

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