Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by Angharad,
part 14.

"Are you alright in there?" called Stella, knocking on the door of the cubicle.

My first time in a ladies loo since I was a small kid; my mother used to take me in with her. Potentially a rite of passage, and here I am hiding from my protector. Could she be a rabid lesbian? She didn't seem the type, but I hear it's rife amongst nurses. Maybe it's just a rumour and maybe she was joking with Simon? Hmm?

"Cathy, are you okay?" she was starting to sound a bit worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine just changing my tampon," I replied.

"Oh ok..WHAT?" she called back.

I chuckled, "Just wanting to check how awake you were."

"You gave me quite a turn for a moment. You were joking?"

"You saw me with no clothes on, so you should know."

"Yeah but it was only a cursory glance, hardly anything to get me going without a microscope." She paused and laughed to herself, obviously savoring the memory of my inadequacies exposed to all the world. "For a moment, I wondered if you were hermaphrodite, with a big clit, the sort lesbians are supposed to swoon over."

The last bit filled me with some hope that she had been joking with Simon, then she went and killed it.

"But it's not true, I wouldn't fancy someone with a deformed clitoris."

My heart sank as I tried to work out what she had just said, and I still couldn't make any sense of it. Surely, common sense would tend to mean that she wouldn't try anything on in a public place, even if she were gay? My fears were all based on reading silly stories on the internet. I'd never knowingly met any female who told me they were gay, and what did it matter anyway? Oh bugger, why do these things always happen to me? That statement contradicted what I had thought a moment before, so I went into analysis mode to understand what I was thinking or saying, let alone anyone else.

"Come on, hurry up or I'll need to go again. Come on Cathy, bring that deformed clit out with you, let's have another look at it. This was followed by hoots of laughter.

"It's common to laugh at your own jokes," I said through the closed door.

"Ooh, 'ark at her, you sound like Lady Bracknell," she laughed.

"A handbag!" I said in as outraged a voice as I could, but it sounded nothing like Dame Edith Evans.

Then I heard the door open and a new female voice. It exchanged pleasantries with Stella and I opened the cubicle door and stepped out. She stepped back, as I washed and dried my hands, thankfully on paper towels, I hate those air drier things, though I suddenly recalled a cartoon I'd seen years ago with the caption, 'Save toilet paper' and featured a woman with one leg raised up the wall near one of those driers. I chuckled to myself.

"You took your time," said Stella accusingly.

"Well I thought the big bad wolf was going to blow my house down," I offered by way of explanation. She gave me a very strange look and rolled her eyes upwards, implying I was bonkers. Talk about pots calling kettles black! I humphed and checked myself in the mirror. Despite eating a meal, my lipstick looked okay.

Stella held the door open and I sallied out towards our table. I heard sniggers behind me, but decided to ignore them, anyone who knew I was a boy had to be psychic and there was nothing I could do about that.

A few paces further on and Stella caught me up and grabbed my arm, "I hate to say this Cathy, but you have your skirt caught up in your panties," she sniggered.

I stopped dead, went bright scarlet and asked her to stand aside as I ran back into the toilets. She was telling the truth, I went back into my cubicle and burst into tears. How could such a thing happen to me? I was beginning to think I had become accident prone, but something else was pressing for an answer even more than that. How the bloody hell, had I managed to run in those boots without breaking an ankle or my neck?

"Cathy, are you in there?" she knocked on my door again.

"Go away," I sobbed, "you could have told me."

"I did as soon as I could."

"I don't believe you, go away." I blew my nose in some toilet paper.

"Okay, we will, but it will be rather a long walk home in those boots."

Damn, I hadn't thought that through had I? I felt like saying,"I'll manage," but we both knew it would be a lie and I'd probably end up in more trouble than I was now.

"Come on, don't be silly just walk out normally and brazen it out. We've all done it."

I thought to myself, but normally I'd be wearing jeans and trainers with a sweat shirt top. This was my maiden voyage and I'd sailed straight into an iceberg, what a mess. Now to make matters worse, I was likely to have mascara all over my face. I began to wish I could fall down the toilet and flush myself away. It would have been apt, I felt like shit!

Eventually, she cajoled me into opening up the door and coming out. As I was about to step out of the door, I heard the other woman's voice and shrank back into my cubicle and slammed the door.

"Is your friend all right?" I heard her asking Stella.

"Yes, we get this all the time, she's pathologically shy spends much of her time hiding under the bed with her teddy bear."

I could hear the woman saying something but couldn't make out what.

"I am not a psychopath!" I said loudly.

"No one said you were," called Stella.

"Well if you can manage her... I'll leave you to it," the woman said and I heard the door shut.

"Come on out you idiot and stop pissing about or I'll get Simon to come and drag you out," she hissed at me.

Her words had a miraculous effect and I gingerly slid back the catch and eased open the door, Stella was watching for it and pushed hard against the door, whereupon it bashed against my head nearly knocking me out.

"Come on get ou.... Oops! Cathy, I am so sorry," she laughed with embarrassment, I didn't mean to (giggle), honest I didn't."

With her help I staggered out and slumped against the wash basins, I couldn't stand properly and she helped me back into the cubicle where I sat on the loo again. The room was spinning and my head began to throb. Stella wet some paper towels with cold water and held them against my head.

Despite all this I heard the outer door open and footsteps come into the toilets, "Oh Christ get outtah 'ere quick, bloody lezzies in there!" The footseps receded rapidly and although my head throbbed dreadfully, both Stella and I began to laugh.

"That's the second time you've tried to kill me," I joked.

"Third time lucky," was her rejoinder.

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