Stanton Bliss(53)

“Do you want a coffee?” Cameron asks.

“Tea, please,” I reply.

“Hot chocolate, thanks,” Didge mutters as she swipes through her phone. We are sitting on the bonnet of our car watching Joshua play Polo. Its Sunday afternoon and Bridget and Cameron have met me here. We came straight from Willowvale, and this is his last game for a while. Joshua has told them he is unavailable until after the baby is born in four weeks. I told him I’m going to go overdue, but he doesn’t believe me. Adrian is working, apparently he is snowed under and couldn’t make it. I need to go to the bathroom but it’s such a f*cking drama. I need to drag four frigging guards with me and they all wait outside while I go. Paparazzi are everywhere and I can almost feel the lenses clicking on me. This is the only place they can get their photographs of Joshua and I together and, naturally, we are being hounded because of the impending birth story. Adrian has had his styling job upped to a whole new level of Hell, Nothing bloody fits me. He is coming over weekly now and making me try stuff on, taking photos of every outfit with his phone. He then studies it so he can direct me what to wear when I’m going to be photographed, so thank Heaven for him. He makes me look better than I do. Today, I am wearing camel coloured jeans and a white linen shirt, which hangs down, with short brown boots and a brown hat that lets my hair fall out and full. My standard chunky bangles are on to hide my horrible scar. As soon as I have the baby, I’m going to see about getting some laser or something on it. I want it gone from my life.

I look at the bathrooms on the other side of the field and then over to my guards sitting on the car behind me. God, its so annoying taking guards everywhere I go.

“I need to go to the bloody bathroom again,” I mutter.

“Again?” Bridget frowns.

“I know, right? Baby Stanton is sitting on something.” I sigh, unimpressed.

She smiles, rubs my stomach and goes back to her phone. I try to hold it, but I really do need to go.

“I’m going to the bathroom before Cam gets back.”

“Want me to come?” she asks without looking up.

“No. It’s ok.” I stand and wave to Max and he comes straight over. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Ok, sure.” He turns and signals to the other guards. I then drop my head and walk to the bathroom with two men in front of me, and two trailing behind. This really is over kill but it’s not even worth fighting with Joshua over it. I can hear the cameras clicking as I walk. God, I must look like a beached whale. Who on Earth would want to see these photos? I get to the bathroom and join the queue to find two women before me. The light is blown so there is only light coming in from the small windows up above the sink. And then I feel it, hot and running down my leg. My eyes widen. Holy f*ck, I must be wetting myself. I try to stop it but I can’t and it keeps coming.

Oh my God.

Oh my f*cking God.

The lady in front finishes and I duck into the stall and look down at myself. My jeans have huge wet patches running down my inside legs. Holy shit. Its still coming, so I rip down my pants and sit down but it doesn’t stop. Holy crap. I’ve hit the bottom of the barrel. I’ve wet myself in public with f*cking paparazzi outside waiting for the shot.

Only me, this shit could only happen to me.

I shake my hands in horror. What the hell am I going to do? I stand to look down at myself and the inside of both legs is wet right to my feet.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

What will I do, what will I do?



I text Bridget.

Don’t say anything to Cameron

OMFG get to the bathroom

We have a f*cking disaster

She immediately texts back.

Huh?

I write back.

Just get here now!!!!!!!

She writes back.

On my way, drama queen

I stand in the stall with my hands over my mouth. I’m blushing just thinking about getting out of here.

“Hello.,” I hear Bridget’s voice and I open the door and peek around.

“Get in here.” I grab her jumper and pull her into the cubicle with me, thankful nobody else is in the toilets.

“What are you doing, you fruitcake?”

“Look at this.” I snap as I point at my pants.

Her face drops in horror. “What the hell happened?”

“I wet myself,” I whisper angrily.

Her mouth drops open in horror and then she starts to giggle. “Oh my God. Funny shit.”

“This is not funny shit,” I gasp, outraged.

She puts her hands over her mouth. “What are we going to do?” She bends down to my stomach and points at it. “Naughty baby.” She whispers.

I put my hands on my hips and throw my head back in disgust.

“It has to be a boy.” She smirks. “Only a boy would do this.”

“Not helping,” I groan.

She stands and thinks for a moment. “I will just go out and get Max to bring the car around.”

I look at her for a moment as I think. “But they will photograph my piss pants and it will be on every magazine cover tomorrow.”

She screws up her face. “Yeah, I guess.”

She gets out her phone and texts someone.

“Who are you texting?” I frown.

“Cameron.”

“I don’t want Cameron to know,” I stammer in a panic.