Caught At It Again

(This is a new story which I have shared elsewhere. I hope you enjoy it)

It was Wednesday, market day in Boston, albeit a quieter one than usual, especially with the Covid-19 restrictions and everyone having to stand two metres apart. Anne peered into the murky green waters of the Haven as she crossed the St Botolph's footbridge. She'd read in that morning's Standard that the new flood barrier was now operational and would hopefully save the town from major disruption the next time a tidal surge took place, assuming it didn't malfunction of course. One flood barrier was close to giving way though and that was her sphincter muscle. Three cups of coffee at breakfast time and slow queues to get around the market had taken their toll. She didn't mind or care though. Anne loved being this desperate and savoured every minute of her increasing need to go. Once over the bridge she got on to the Haven bank and, in a spot shielded by some trees, parted her legs and began to flood her panties and jeans. The feeling was amazing and a tingle went down her spine as the lovely warm wetness spread. She could never make up her mind which she loved most -- a good public wetting or the slow burn of gradually increasing desperation before it finally happened. Ah, this was what life in lockdown was for! Just as she was finishing, a familiar voice rang out:

"I see you're at it again. Things don't change, do they?"

Anne turned around in panic, almost losing her footing but not quite, to see her aged mother staring at her in disapproval.

"Mum what are you doing here? I thought the doctor said you weren't to drive until the results of your Alzheimer's test came through."

"I've had the results and I've not got Alzheimer's, well not yet anyway. Just Anno Domini and a daughter who pisses her pants. Besides, I didn't drive. I got the train."

Anne looked at her mother in despair.

"You did what? For goodness sake, Mum, you're ninety-one and you're meant to be shielding."

"Oh fiddlesticks. I've lived through a World War, young lady. If you think a dose of Chinese flu is going to see me off you've got another think coming. You're not getting your inheritance just yet."

"Well I suppose you're fucking stubborn enough to see anything off. Mother, I'm surprised you weren't questioned at the station."

"Oh yes I was questioned alright - at Cambridge, Peterborough and Grantham. I told them I had to visit a sick daughter which, judging from the state of you, isn't too far off the truth. Besides the last bit from Grantham's quite a nice run, despite the line running alongside some algae filled dyke for miles."

"You mean the South Forty Foot Drain?"

"Oh, is that what it's called?"

"Yes. Mum, I was meaning to ring you but I've got some family news. David and Sadie are expecting. If this Covid-19 doesn't see you off first, you'll be a great grandmother before the year's out."

"Well do give them my congratulations."

"I will. Sadie went to Pilgrim for her first ultrasound scan last week. Everything was fine but she had a bit of an accident. I told her it's fine to have accidents. In fact, it brought back memories of when I was expecting David."

"How could I possibly forget?"

"To be honest Mum, I'm worried about them. David's been on furlough since March and the way things are looking there's not forced to be a job for him when it's all over."

"Well if he'd trained for a proper job and become a lawyer like his grandfather he'd never be out of work. Your father was the best -- and most feared - silk in London."

"Yes, I know, Mum. He also told me to keep clear of the law and go into teaching instead."

"Aye and much good it did you. How long did you last after qualifying? Two years perhaps?"

"Look Mum, it just wasn't me. Not everyone's cut out for standing in front of thirty fucking kids all day, pretending to be in charge when they're not, and then spending every evening doing marking, lesson preparation and all the other crap that teachers get to do nowadays."

"Some people aren't up to it, no, and you plainly weren't. At least you had the good sense to marry money -- the one sensible decision you did make in your life."

"Yes, and now I'm a comfortably well-off widow, but a lonely one at that."

Anne's mother smiled.

"Well wait to you're my age and then you'll be a miserable old bat too. Speaking of which, I'm getting to be a hungry old bat."

"Mum I'm afraid I can't take you for a meal or anything. Nowhere's open and the house is right across town. We'll have to have a socially distanced coffee and a couple of Lincolnshire hot dogs off the market. If the benches behind the Stump are free you can sit on one of them whilst I prop Sir Bernard Ingram's statue up. At least that way we'll be social distancing the way we're meant to."

"Suits me fine, Anne. You're in no fit state to take me anywhere anyway. Besides I can pretend you're not my daughter that way -- just some sixty-four-year-old slut who's pissed her pants and thinks she knows me."

"Thanks Mum. You're all heart as usual. For that, lunch is on you. I'll take you somewhere posh when things get back to normal -- if they do."

"Normal? I'm not sure you know what normal is. By the way, you can tell David I'm going to transfer him ten thousand. My grandson might vie for stupidity with his mother, but I won't see him and Sadie go short. Not with a bairn on the way."

"Mum. You're a star!"

"I know I am. Now let's track down some food before I pass out with hunger."

THE END