It's amazing, isn't it? You can grow up -- and I mean nearly three decades up -- without giving something more than a passing thought. And not even really a passing thought -- you hear about something and it just has no effect on you at all, as if it's something that simply has no meaning or relevance for you.
Even more strangely, the topic is something that I must have come up against before in my life -- when young, if no other time -- or perhaps I should say that the circumstances which led up to my sudden realisation must have happened before. Up to a point, anyway.
I'm rambling, aren't I? Why? Nervousness, I suppose. It's still very new and I'm still finding it hard to get my head around it all. Perhaps I should just shut up -- so to speak -- and tell you all what happened.
It was a faulty signal that did it. I was standing there on the mercifully deserted railway station platform hoping against hope that my train wouldn't be late, wondering whether I would have time to make myself a snack when I got home before tiredness overcame me, and the noticeboard started flashing the dreaded word 'delayed'.
I groaned aloud and followed that with a loud 'fuck!', my normal reserved nature being subsumed by the fact that I was desperate to get home at the end of a long day, and that I'd just come from the wine bar where I'd consumed the best part of a bottle and a half of Pinot Grigio. My train journey took no more than ten minutes and the walk from my local station to home was just five minutes, but any delay now was going to cause me a bit of discomfort as well as annoyance. Not to put too fine a point on it, I was already feeling a certain amount of pressure building in my bladder. It wasn't exactly chilly out -- a typical summer's night in England, in fact -- but I only had thin cotton panties on under a summery dress and the temperature was relatively cool.
I wasn't exactly hopping about by the time the noticeboard replaced 'delayed' with a new estimated arrival time, but when I checked with my watch and realised that I would be waiting there for at least another fifteen minutes I groaned aloud again, one hand straying to a belly which was starting to feel decidedly full.
I gave myself a little press and realised immediately that while I could have kept control for the original fifteen minute journey, I was in no way confident that I could manage to hold everything in for an extra fifteen minutes as well.
I checked my watch again, trying to estimate how long it would take to get to the wine bar, have the much-needed pee, and get back to the station. I was just about to set off at a trot, heels or not, when I let out another groan as I realised that any journey back to the bar would be pointless -- they had been about to close when I left.
There was no panic when I started to try to picture whether there were any other bars within trotting distance of the station, but when I realised that there weren't a small shiver did make me start to fret a little. The panic only started when I glanced back at the noticeboard to find that it had changed once more and was apologetically stating that my train would now be arriving in half an hour.
The very realisation that I wouldn't get to my flat for at least forty-five minutes seemed to increase the bladder pressure alarmingly. I gave the station platform a pointless, desperate look -- there was no-one else there right now but equally there was nowhere I could hide and squat. I just knew if I tried someone would be bound to appear...
'Of course!' I exclaimed as my mind finally managed to furnish me with the solution. There might not be any bars close by, but there was a public loo just next to the library. It was one of those plastic cabin things that you operated with a fifty pence coin and the last time I had used it, a few weeks before, it had been in dire need of a clean. But it was a loo!
My mind, over-confident after remembering the public lavatory, decided to remind me that I would need change and probably didn't have any, but a swift rummage through my little purse proved it to be an unrealistic pessimist as I located no fewer than three coins.
I still had twenty seven minutes before my train was due -- plenty of time now -- and I started to walk purposefully towards the library rather than run.
Even when I turned the corner a few yards away from my destination and saw another woman waiting outside the plastic kiosk I wasn't too concerned. I took the last steps slowly and offered a smile along with the traditional raised eyebrows which translated as something along the lines of 'silly me, should have gone before I left'.
The woman returned the smile. 'Shouldn't be long,' she offered, 'I think I saw someone going in when I turned the corner and that was a couple of minutes ago.'
'I'm sure I can wait a couple of minutes,' I told her, trying not to look at the little 'engaged' sign that was lit up beside the cubicle door.
About three minutes later I was less confident when I asked her whether she was sure there was someone in there.
'I'm almost positive I saw someone going in,' she said, 'and the little light's on...' She paused, 'But there again,' she added, 'I must say I'm getting a bit... well, anxious myself.'
'I know what you mean. You think it would be rude to knock?'
'Under the circumstances, I think that's a good idea. I'll do it. I'm Gina, by the way.'
'Maria,' I told her, watching as she rapped lightly on the plastic door.
When there was no reply, Gina leant close to the door, knocked louder and called 'excuse me!'
Another silence followed and we exchanged worried looks. Gina reached into her pocket and pulled out a fifty pence coin. With a shrug she tried to push it into the coin slot but I could see at once that it wouldn't slide in.
