You stand there with your bags, the pressure on your bladder growing.
Ms Thompson eventually finds you. "Oh Daniel, there you are." she seems to be in a hurry as she takes your heaviest suitcase. "Sorry I didn't find you sooner. I looked here 3 times but I guess it was too crowded to see you. Come on, we're late. I've got to get dinner ready."
She leads you back to the car before you have a chance to say that you need to use the toilet.
The pressure builds steadily on the drive. Once you get inside you ask. "Where is your toilet? I really need to go."
"Just down there." She points down a corridor. "The last door." Then she leaves to prepare dinner.
You move quickly to the door but find it locked. You are almost jumping on the spot to avoid wetting yourself. Whoever is in there is taking ages.
You lose the battle. First you feel your underpants become wet then a dark patch appears at the front of your jeans and starts spreading down the right leg.
That's when you hear the toiled finally flush. The door opens to reveal a girl. She is about 6 years old. This must be must be Ms Thompson's youngest daughter, Sarah.
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