Wee Are Not Amused

[Adrian196970A 26]

(This is one of my older stories which I have posted elsewhere. However I hope you enjoy it.)

Anne drained her cup and glanced around Wendy's sitting room. It wasn't unusual for her to have coffee and cake with Wendy on a Thursday morning, but this was no ordinary Thursday. It was Maundy Thursday and this year the Queen was coming to distribute the Royal Maundy to local deserving senior citizens at Woodchester Cathedral. Although Wendy wasn't a recipient and would be ineligible for such an honour for at least another twenty five years or more, she was a avid 'royal watcher' and on no account wanted to miss seeing the Queen. Anne didn't altogether share Wendy's enthusiasm, in fact if the truth were to be told it could be said that she was as keen on royalty as Cherie Booth, the old Prime Minister's wife. However it was a day out and she'd promised to pick Wendy up and take her into Woodchester for the occasion. Wendy in turn had agreed to take Anne to lunch at the Mitre Arms in Woodchester afterwards.

As she waited for Wendy to get ready, Anne checked the coffee pot to see if there was any chance of squeezing out another small cup in addition to the three she'd already had. Alas, no such luck – it was completely empty. Anne found herself beginning to fidget, looking nervously at her watch. Wendy was taking for ages in that bathroom. It was the second time she'd gone to the toilet in twenty minutes, overly anxious to make sure her bladder was completely empty and her hair tidy for this auspicious occasion. At length she emerged and Anne cast her a slightly accusing look.

“Wendy, I thought you'd gone down the plug hole,” she remarked.

“I know. Look I'm sorry. Are you sure you don't want to freshen up before we go?”

“No Wendy. I'm fine.”

Wendy had lost count of the number of times over the years she'd heard Anne say “I'm fine” when she certainly wasn't 'fine' but she'd still not altogether grasped the futility of arguing with her friend.

“You're absolutely sure?”

“Yes Wendy.” There was a note of frustration in Anne's voice. “Now come on, we've got to get a move on if we're to make it into Woodchester in time. We can't keep HMQ waiting, can we?”

Wendy pulled a face as she reached for her house keys and followed Anne to the car. She didn't like Anne's flippant attitude to the royals or the sarcasm that sometimes accompanied it. Once in the car they were soon on the old Woodchester Road and seemed to be making good time. Wendy was certainly glad of the warmth of Anne's car on that cold, grey, March morning. Alas their hopes of getting into Woodchester as early as they'd planned were soon dashed. As they approached the Southern Ring Road they found themselves at the back of a traffic jam which was taking ages to clear, caused by yet another a collision on the treacherous stretch of bypass. It was the third such collision there in as many months. Almost at a halt they were now barely moving. Wendy bit her fingernails, anxious lest they should miss the royal visitor. Anne had started to become anxious too but for rather different reasons. Cursing her own stubbornness, she began to wish she'd used Wendy's loo when it had been available. Not only that, she wished she'd gone to her own loo before leaving home too. A large mug of breakfast tea at home followed by three cups of coffee at Wendy's had not been such a good idea, especially when combined with no trips to the lavatory. Wendy looked across at Anne and noticed with alarm that her friend had one hand on the steering wheel and the other pressed tightly into the crotch of her jeans.

“You okay, Anne?” she ventured, knowing that whatever answer was forthcoming she knew the grim truth.

To her credit Anne realised that she couldn't lie to her friend who recognised all the signs of her predicament as she squirmed, tried to hold herself, and keep the car moving (albeit very slowly) all at the same time.

“No Wendy, I'm afraid not. I'm starting to wish I'd used your loo when I had the chance and not pigged out on the coffee so much.”

“I knew it,” Wendy replied, an impatient tone in her voice. “Only you could get caught short like this through your own stupidity. You never learn, do you? You and your damn pride.”

“Stop going on about it,” Anne snapped. “I'll pop and use a loo as soon as we get into Woodchester. There's some toilets near the Cathedral. In the meantime I'd be grateful if you could change the subject.”

Before Wendy could reply the jam cleared and the traffic started flowing properly.

“I bet HMQ's not been stuck in the traffic,” Anne remarked as they drove towards the city centre.

“I shouldn't think so,” Wendy replied. “She's being flown in by helicopter. It''ll be using the landing strip at the Hospital normally used by the Air Ambulance and I understand she's being driven from there to the Cathedral.”

“Lucky for her,” Anne replied. A smile crossed her lips as a naughty thought passed through her mind. The landing strip at the Hospital was only just across the road from the exercise yard of Woodchester Prison. “Let's hope the pilot doesn't make any mistakes. We don't want her getting to meet any of the guests at her hotel, do we?”

“Anne!” Wendy exclaimed.

Anne shrugged, continuing to fidget and hoping she'd make it to those loos at the end of College Green, near the Cathedral in time. She soon found the long stay car park and, thankfully, there was space. Fumbling for some change she asked Wendy to get a ticket to display whilst she stretched her legs. As she got out of the car the cold air hit Anne's aching bladder, increasing her desperation. Although the car park was only a quarter of a mile or so from where they needed to be, the walk from there to College Green, the sward behind the Cathedral, felt like a mile to Anne.

Eventually they got there and a sizeable crowd was assembled although it was not so big as it would have been at one time. Anne fought her way through the crowd to near the toilets. She'd heard that they'd recently been re-opened after a spate of vandalism. However her heart sank as she drew near and saw that they were closed yet again. A policeman was standing nearby and he shook his head as she approached, seemingly intuitively knowing what she was about to ask.

“Sorry madam. These toilets are closed today for reasons of security.”

“Damn!” she exclaimed, noticing the slightly smug smile on his face and the erection which his trousers failed to hide.

Now desperate she fought her way back through the crowd to where Wendy had found a spot, right against the security railing in front of the Cathedral. No longer able to control herself, Anne began to release spurts into her jeans before losing the ability to hold completely and totally flooding them. Clearly embarrassed by the situation, Wendy did her best to distance herself from Anne and pretend that she wasn't with her.

Anne could hear whisperings in the crowd near her.

“See that woman near the front. She's just pissed herself, the dirty cow.”

“Maybe she's ill,” a more charitable voice ventured.

“Fucking ill in the head more like,” a less kindly voice was heard to mutter. “She must be over forty and grown folks don't piss themselves – not like that.”

“Wanna bet?” another voice chimed in. “You've not been up town on a Friday night lately,”

Just when matters could hardly get any more fraught, the royal party emerged from the Cathedral, the Dean chatting to the Queen as the Duke talked to the High Sheriff. At least people stopped whispering about Anne's condition and a respectful silence gave way to cheering and flag waving.

Anne breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the Duke head off to talk to well wishers on the other side of the Cathedral. Famed for his remarks about 'slitty eyes' to students in China and telling an aspiring astronaut that he was too fat, she was almost certain he'd make mincemeat of a middle aged woman who'd wet her jeans.

Alas her relief was to short lived. Pressed tight against the railings, Anne saw the Queen heading in her direction, stopping briefly to accept some flowers from a well wisher nearby. To her alarm, the Queen stopped right in front of Anne and addressed her.

“Have you come from far?,” she enquired.

“No Ma'am. Only just up the road.”

Anne blushed as she noticed the Queen's eyes were drawn towards her jeans.

“Life can be difficult sometimes,” the Queen remarked.

“Yes, Ma'am,” Anne gasped, breathing a sigh of relief as the Queen, completely ignoring Wendy, went on to chat to other well wishers further along the barrier.

Anne turned to Wendy. White with rage when they first arrived, she was now green with envy.

“You've really embarrassed me today,” Wendy remarked as they walked back through the now dispersing crowd. “I want you to take me straight home.”

“I think you're forgetting your side of the deal,” Anne replied. “You're taking me to lunch at the Mitre Arms, remember.”

“Lunch! You can forget lunch,” Wendy fumed. “I'm not taking you anywhere after this morning's episode.”

“I assume then that you want to walk home,” Anne replied. “There are no buses back to your village at this time of day and taking a taxi 'll cost you double what it would to buy me lunch at the Mitre Arms. Besides, I know you're only jealous because HMQ spoke to me and not you. The best bit is I'm not a royalist and you are.”

Wendy knew that she was beaten.

“Oh very well Anne. I'll take you to lunch. Those jeans look as though the wind's started to dry them anyway. If anyone says anything you spilt something down them though. It had better not happen again though.”

Anne smiled sheepishly at her friend. “It won't Wendy, I promise.”

Wendy gave Anne's bottom a playful slap. “Now where have I heard that one before?” she replied.

THE END