As soon as I walked in, without looking to left or right, I went to an empty stall, shut the door, pulled down my joggers and panties and sat down. Sighing with relief, I let it all go, making sure that my wayward and now unwanted appendage was pointing downward–Unwanted, that was a thought, did I really want to go all the way now?

I didn’t want to go there so I finished the business and after wiping myself carefully and taking my courage in both hands, I unbolted the door and went out, certain that thousands of women would stop and stare at me.

And now the story continues…

It wasn’t quite what I thought. There were no screams, shouts of horror or women fainting at the sight of me, just several women washing their hands, doing their hair or touching up their makeup. It was busy with people coming and going all the time. It was busy, busy, busy!

Sighing with relief, I went to the corner basin and washed my hands. Sneakily I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, but no, they were more interested in themselves than anyone else.

I saw in the mirror that my hair should be re-scrunchied as I was a bit lopsided in the ponytail department. I quickly took off the scrunchie, brushed my hair back and then put it back up again, nice and straight. My makeup didn’t look too bad so I just touched up my lipstick and powdered my slightly shiny nose. Studying at my reflection with a critical eye, I wouldn’t win any beauty contests, but on the other hand, I did look more or less female and that was good enough for me.

I left the ladies and went to McDonalds, passing quickly as the smell of the burgers made me feel slightly sick. There was a small counter selling filled rolls so I ordered a BLT* and a coffee and took them to a corner table.

The place wasn’t all that busy so I was able to eat in relative peace. Mind you, my heart felt a sort of stabbing pain when I saw a couple walk by, hand in hand and sit down not ten feet from me. However, they had eyes only for each other; the smiles, laughs and whispers, showed all too clearly what they had–and I had lost.

Looking away, I concentrated on my snack. I had to be positive. No good would come of my wallowing in self pity. Now I was not concentrating on driving, my thoughts turned not at what had happened a few short hours ago, but what I was going to do about it now–it being my life.

Sipping my coffee, I wondered about the ramifications of my running away from my responsibilities. My plan, such as it was, was simple–run as fast as I can. Not a very good or imaginative one in the circumstances. It was a scheme that it had certain flaws; even I, in my bruised and battered state could see that.

Rubbing my eyes, I felt quite weary. It was nearly nine o’clock and I still had at least a three-hour drive before I reached my destination and even then, I would have to sleep in the car because most places would almost certainly be shut up for the night.

The service area had a Travelodge hotel attached to it so I decided to see if there were any vacancies. Picking up my shoulder bag, I left the service building and went next door to the hotel reception.

There was no sign of anyone at reception so I rang the bell on the desk.

A few minutes later a woman came out from the office and smiled at me. She was, according to the badge pinned to her bosom, Tracey–receptionist.

‘Can I have a room for the night?’

‘Yes, Madam; for how many?’

‘One please.’

‘Smoking or non-smoking?’

‘Non-smoking.’

‘Will you require calling in the morning?’

‘No thanks.’

‘That will be forty-nine pounds please.’

I nearly gave her my credit card but as it had my male name on it; it would probably give the game away and might conceivably make her phone the police.

Luckily, I had fifty pounds so I gave her the cash. I know that they don’t normally inspect cards closely these days, as we just stick the card in the slot and put in the pin number, but knowing my luck at the moment, something would go pear-shaped.

‘Right, Madam, you’re in room one-two-five on the first floor; here’s your key. You are entitled to a discount of five pounds off your breakfast if you go to the Little Chef next door. You must vacate your room by 10 o’clock. I hope you enjoy your stay.’

I returned her plastic smile and took the key.

Returning to my car, I picked up my suitcases, computer bag and other bits and pieces, and struggled back to the hotel. Where was a bell boy when you needed one? Not that a place like this ever went as far as employing someone like that–too posh.

Struggling with my cases–on wheels luckily–and my bags, I managed to find room 125 and let myself in.

I sank down on the surprisingly comfortable bed and shut my eyes for a few minutes.

Half an hour later, I woke up, not quite knowing where I was; then it came back to me with a rush.

I had not realised how tired I was and was glad that I decided to break my journey, perhaps I would be fresher tomorrow.

I opened one of the cases and pulled out a few things. Picking up the remote, I switched the TV on; it was the news–full of the doom and gloom of British politics and little else. The country was going to rack and ruin and the newsreader seemed to be enjoying telling us all about it.

Deciding that a bath would be in order, I entered the bathroom and turned on the taps. I took off all my clothes and made sure that my hair was safely in a shower cap. I know I was going to have a bath, but I always sink a bit under the waves and I did not want the back of my hair wet.

It was great to relax in a nice warm bath. I had found some pink bubble bath, so I was covered in nice strawberry-smelling suds. All my knots unravelled as the tension eased out of my muscles. I must have fallen asleep, as I woke up suddenly as the bath water started to get cold. I stood up, pulled out the plug and got out; luckily I wasn’t too pruney in the skin department and began to dry myself with a big fluffy towel.

I slipped on my long peach satin nightie, brushed my hair, cleaned the remnants of any makeup off my face, put on some cold cream to help keep my face as beautiful as the girl in the advert–well she said it helped and it must be true as it was on the TV–and then I sat on the bed. I wasn’t very tired any more. The TV was droning on, local bulletin now, even more depressing than the national news, I noticed.

I switched the TV off and picked up my computer bag, unzipping it and taking out my notebook–a must for an up-and-coming ex-company executive like me.

I was in a wi fi area so when I switched the computer on, I was able to get a reasonable signal. I checked my email; there were about fifteen spams plus one from the office and another from Olivia. Not wanting to read anything from Olivia at the moment, I opened the one from the office. It was just a confirmation of the meeting I was supposed to attend the next day.
I clicked the reply button and just said that I would not be able to attend as I was sick. I told them I was having stress problems and that I would contact HR in a few days.
Then, somewhat reluctantly, I opened the email from Olivia.

Tom,
What’s happening and why is your phone switched off? Please ring me when you get this as we need to talk.
Olivia

I didn’t reply and just shut the email down.

On a whim, I Googled, Penmarris Cove.

There wasn’t much about it, just a small website with a few pages. It was evidently a fishing village, as I had thought, but there were only two fishing boats left using the tiny harbour, so it wasn’t exactly Grimsby. There was one pub, a post office-cum-village shop, a small primary school, a gift shop, an iron monger’s, a fish and chip shop and a general store. The population was five hundred at the last census and it appeared that the main source of income was tourism in the summer months, when the village’s population tripled–if the weather was good. There were a few small sandy beaches at either end of the cove, imaginatively named East Beach and West Beach and from the grainy pictures on the website, it all looked picturesque and rather pretty.

‘Yes.’ I thought to myself, ‘A nice place to hide away and be myself,’

Smiling, I shut the computer down then went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and had a wee. Switching off all the lights with the exception of the one on the bedside cabinet, I slipped under the sheets and just stared at the ceiling. As far as I was concerned, today was the end of my old life and tomorrow was the beginning of my new one.

BLT* Bacon lettuce and tomato roll