Written by Veronique

      My friend Madeleine and me had made plans to visit an arts festival where painting by some . popular amateur artists would be on display, together with traditional handmade crafts.

      I drove to Madeleine's house and climbed the stairs to the flat she shared with a roommate.

      "Oh, hello," Madeleine greeted me as she opened the door. "Can you wait a minute? I'm not quite ready."

      I said that was fine, and watched her as she headed for the bathroom, perhaps to use the toilet. The bathroom door turned out to be locked, and when I listened I could hear the shower running. Her roommate was evidently in there. If Madeleine did need the toilet, her need could not have been too urgent because, after a moment's thought, she put on her shoes and said that she would be ready to go.

      Since I knew the way, we took my car and started on the one-hour drive to the exhibition centre. We talked about nothing in particular, just small talk to while away the journey. After about twenty minutes, Madeleine asked: " How long will it take to get there?"

      I wondered again if she had been trying to use the toilet before we started out. "Another twenty minutes or so," I said, knowing that it was in fact closer to forty. Smiling then, I teased, "Is my company so bad that you can't wait to get there?"

      "No, not at all," she answered, a little defensively. She seemed distracted, a slightly irritable edge to her voice.

      After a pause, I added, "Why did you ask?"

      "No reason. It's not important." she replied.

      I let the subject drop, wondering if might become important soon.

      About half way there, we encountered a detour and had to leave the main road for a smaller one. This added more time to our journey, so that our arrival time was shunted back to about an hour again, the same as when we began our journey.

      For the next fifteen minutes ,we chatted about nearly everything, but then she became more and more silent. At the edge of my vision, I saw her cross her legs, something that was not easy to do in a car as small as mine.

      "I haven't seen any signs yet!" Madeleine comments, a note of anxiety now clearly audible in her voice. "I think we should be there any minute though, shouldn't we?"

      "Sorry," I said. "When we took that detour, I was so busy talking to you that I forgot to watch out for any more signs. I think we may be lost."

      "You're kidding?" she blurted out, her eyes suddenly wide.

      "It's no problem, I've got a map. As soon as I can find somewhere to pull off the road, we can have a look at it and try to work out where we are."

      "Alright, but I hope it doesn't take long" she mumbled.

      I didn't comment this because I knew exactly what her problem was.

      Several minutes later, I found a pull-in at the side of the road. It was adjacent to a woodland, and Madeleine might have decided to go and relieve herself in there had there not been a two-metre fence separating the trees from the road.

      I looked at the map and told her, in my gravest voice, that we had been driving the wrong way for the last thirty minutes or more, and that we would have to make our way back along the same route until we came across one of the detour signs pointing the way we should have gone.

      I was aware that Madeleine was crossing and recrossing her legs constantly, her knees knocking into the dashboard each time she did this. As I sat looking at her, she suddenly bent forward and pulled her waistband away from her abdomen. Surely, she was doing this because her belt was putting unwanted pressure on her swollen bladder. I was convinced that she really needed to pee now.

      After ten minutes of driving back the way we had come, Madeleine asked: "Veronique, would you please stop somewhere? I need to take a leak."

      "I haven't seen any gas stations lately," I remarked. "It might be better to wait until we are back on a more major road."

      "I would prefer not to wait that long," she informed me, swallowing as she spoke the words. "I don't mind to go in behind some bushes, if you can stop next to a wooded area."

      I didn't want to end my game now and tried to delay her.

      "Hey, it's only about another ten miles back to where we got lost, and as soon as we're back on track, we'll get onto the main road and find some services. It should only be about another fifteen minutes. Can you wait that long!"

      "I think so," she said, although she didn't sound very sure.

      "If you're so bad, I'll look for somewhere to stop along here," I offered, knowing that she would not want to admit to me that she was that desperate to pee.

      And anticipated, she made a dismissive gesture with her hand she said: "No, no. It's not urgent."

      People say that actions speak louder than words, and the way she was pulling on her waistband from time to time suggested she was fast approaching an emergency situation.

      We finally found a detour sign and I followed the route I should have taken in the first place. Soon after, we were queuing at the entrance to the car park where the festival was being held. Madeleine looked relieved, but there was still a line of cars ahead of us, which meant another delay. She frowned in concentration, and I knew she was doing her best not to start jiggling her legs around, now that she was almost there which would be making her desire to pee extremely urgent.

      A minute passed, and her resolve weakened. She no longer seemed able sit still, although she still made a half-hearted attempt to hide her predicament. Finally, we rolled into the parking area I parked the car and climbed out, and turning, I watched through the window as Madeleine once against loosened her belt.

      Madeleine climbed out and stood awkwardly, bending slightly forward at the waist. "How long we have to walk?" she asked, the tremble in her voice betraying the strain she was under as she fought to maintain control of her bladder.

      "I think three minutes or so. Why?" "I told you," she retorted, "I h

      ave to go to the toilet."

      "Oh, yes, of course. Well, we're here now. I'm sure you can hold it for another three minutes."

      She didn't answer.

      We had to cross a street, and while we had to wait for the lights to turn green, I noticed that Madeleine was bending forward again. After a few seconds of this, she couldn't stand still any longer and started to tap her heels as she hopped from one foot to the other.

      It took us another five minutes to reach the entrance, by which time I saw Madeleine was desperately looking around for any sign of a toilet. I knew where the toilets were, but of course I didn't say anything.

      While unable to stand still, Madeleine made a heroic effort to slow down her movements as much as possible. I couldn't help smiling to myself. She's a very proud, proper young lady, and I secretly enjoyed watching her have to squirm like this in public.

      "Oh," she gasped involuntarily, turning a sheepish glance on me. "I've to find a toilet soon!" she whispered. Trying to ignore her, I looked some of the artefacts on display.

      Suddenly, Madeleine walked briskly ahead, and it was difficult for me to keep up with her. I think walking helped her, but she walked in the wrong direction and I wondered how long it would take until she would notice this.

      "Oh, I really need a toilet. Do you think there are some in the tent where the food is sold?"

      I already knew there weren't any lavatories in there, but I said: "I don't know, but I think they must have one!"

      Inside, while Madeleine was searching for the non-existent toilets, we ran into Mike, one of the guy who sells sculptures made of wood. I knew he had a think for Madeleine, so he naturally made a beeline to intercept her.

      "Maddie," he began enthusiastically. "It has been a while. How have you been?"

      Madeleine had no choice but to stop and talk to him, the situation forcing her to stand still. I noticed she had both hands plunged deep into her pockets, and she stood there with her thighs pressed tightly together, fighting the urge to dance around in her desperation.

      Since Mike was solely focused on her, I could watch Madeleine's struggles without my attention on her being noticed. I could see that her legs shivered from time to time with the effort of maintaining control of her bladder muscles, but somehow she managed to hold on to her smile.

      I stepped back unobtrusively to get a better look at what she was doing, and noticed that she trying to shift her weight from foot to foot without raising either of them from the floor. She was definitely bursting, and I wondered how long she was going to able to maintain her composure.

      Several times, she tried to end the conversation, but it was never easy to cut Mike short. As each attempt to get away failed, Madeleine's movements became more jerky and intense. She finally resorted to standing with her legs crossed, clearly on the brink of wetting herself, but somehow she went on hold it, her pride forcing her to hold on to her dignity, and what must surely be about two pints of pee by this time.

      Then, Madeleine started bending her knees. I knew she couldn't stand this much longer.

      Providence was on her side. Another visitor expressed an interest in Mike's sculptures, forcing him to say goodbye to Madeleine with obvious reluctance.

      Madeleine walked over to me with very stiff legs. When she judged she was out of Mike's earshot, she whispered urgently to me, "I need to pee now! Please help me find the toilets!"

      "But I'm hungry and..." I tried to say, but she interrupted me.

      "I'm nearly pissing my pants I need to take a leak now or I'm going to explode! Alright?"

      Forgetting about her dignity, she began to pee dance as she walked, informing me that she was very close to losing control of herself.

      We spotted an Information desk, and taking careful steps, Madeleine hurried over to ask where the toilets were. I hurried to keep up with her, and as I drew alongside, she hissed, "I can't wait any longer!"

      But there was someone in front of her at the Information desk, so she had no choice but to wait after all. Again, she tried to hide her desperation, standing with her thighs clenched tightly together. Somehow, this enabled her to stand still without squirming or dancing.

      The person in front of her asked one question after another, and I wondered how much longer Madeleine would be able to stand there without wiggling. Behind us, other visitors were joining the queue. I knew that Madeleine would do everything in her power to hold on without wiggling around in front of these people, betraying her desperation to them.

      It was too much to ask, however, and several times she was forced to b raise one leg to help her hold her pee.

      After what must have felt like an eternity, it was finally her turn. Madeleine forced herself to stand still, doing her best to separate her legs and strike a casual pose for the benefit of anyone who might be watching her. With a smile on her face and a tremulous voice, she asked the man behind the desk where the toilets were located. It must be a great effort to hold her pee with her legs apart, but somehow she managed it. He told her that they were by the exit at the back, that meant we had to walk for another five minutes before she could get the relief she so desperately craved.

      Madeleine quickly walked ahead and I followed close behind. After a few metres, she slowed her pace and began taking very careful steps. "I'm gonna pee my pants" she mumbled " I'm not gonna fucking make it!"

      "Come on, we're nearly there!" I encouraged her, but I knew from the way she said it that she must be about to lose it.

      Suddenly she stopped and froze. After only a second, she resumed walking, but almost at once she was forced to stop again. She was clearly at the end of her tether and no longer able to control herself. Poor, proud Madeleine was nearly peeing her pants in public.

      After standing like a statue a few seconds more, she slowly bent her knees and nearly sat down.

      "Are you O.K?" I asked

      "I think I peed my pants a bit" she said with tears in her eyes.

      "Come on, try to walk again. Everybody is looking at you". I said it lightly, teasing her, but she was in no longer in any condition to care about what people might think of her.

      She made a huge effort to get up and continue walking normally, but she was now so incredibly desperate that she was forced to hold herself, and quite unable to hide that she was breaking her neck for a pee.

      "I never going make it," she whispered to me. "The next spurt will come out any second!"

      As if reacting to her fears, another wave of desperation made her stop walking yet again. This time, she stood with her legs hard crossed, forcing both hands between her clenched thighs.

      Suddenly, she hobbled to one side, opened her waistband, pulled down her pants and squatted. Pee began to splash on the ground.

      "What are you doing?" I asked "I'm really sorry," she said "but I can't hold it one fucking moment longer! I already peed myself, I'm so sorry"

      After what must have seemed an eternity to her, Madeleine pulled up her pants and secured the waistband. I saw a dark patch between her legs where she had started to wet herself. I tried not to let her see the smirk on my face. It was not every day one got to witness someone as proud as Madeleine unable to hold her pee in public. It made up for all the times she would tease me when I was desperate to go and couldn't find a toilet.