Election Ch. 03

Ch 3 - The Result

At long last the polls had closed and now all that remained was for the results to be declared. City Hall's main conference room was packed with candidates, their partners, friends, party activists and, inevitably, representatives of the press. Despite the fatigue of campaigning – felt by all the candidates and their loved ones – there was an air of expectation and anticipation. Woodchester was a three way marginal and this particular election in May 2010 was billed to be somewhat unusual with widespread predictions of a hung parliament.

Brian was at his smartest, sporting a new grey suit for the occasion and navy blue tie to match his the rosette on his lapel. Anne wore the cream blouse he liked to see her in, a favourite brooch, and the blue skirt she'd done so much of her canvassing in. Simply but immaculately turned out, she looked a million dollars. However something deep down told her that all wasn't well. Tired and not a little excited, her mind turned to the conversation she and Brian had had as they'd left their Attleton Market home three hours earlier.

"Annie, have you been to the loo?"

"Yes."

Her "yes" had been a barefaced lie, but one told for the very best of reasons. With a long night still ahead of them they were both tired and she wanted to avoid the row that admitting the truth would have precipitated. They'd been married for long enough and Brian probably knew the truth, but Anne realised there were times when it was expedient to tell him what he wanted to hear, and this was one such occasion.

It wouldn't have mattered if it was simply a question of peeing as a thirty second delay in leaving home would have been neither here nor there. However she didn't need to pee. No, she needed to poo. It was hardly surprising as she'd not moved her bowels since Tuesday morning and it was now the small hours of Friday morning. As so often happened in Anne's case, the desire to defecate hadn't been sudden and it wasn't urgent. No, it had gradually developed from small beginnings with a feeling of slightly more than comfortable fullness down below and, slowly but surely, become a definite pressure on her bowel until the point had been reached when the need to go was unmistakable. Unlike some women who regarded the least sensation of needing to go as anathema and headed for a toilet as soon it was felt, Anne loved the feeling. Not surprisingly she sought every opportunity to savour and enjoy it. As it gradually grew more intense she'd become more turned on and, if privacy allowed, masturbate.

Tonight though there was no such privacy and, well aware that her bowels were getting increasingly full, Anne wished she'd gone on the toilet earlier. She was anxious not to let Brian down on what might well be his big night. Thus far she'd managed to avoid farting, which whilst it would have relieved some pressure, would also have blown her cover – quite literally – and shattered Brian's dream of a wife who smelt as gorgeous as she looked. Clenching her buttocks and hoping the distinct glow on her her forehead wouldn't be taken for the perspiration that it really was, she smiled and did her best to pretend that all was well, even though the reality was somewhat different.

Glancing at the walk clock as she tried to make small talk with Brian's agent, Anne noticed it was nearly two thirty. As the chimes of the cathedral clock rang out, the Returning Officer made his way to the dais at the front of the hall, paper in hand and prepared to deliver the verdict. Hush swept through the hall and the candidates were joined by their respective partners, eager to hear the results. With all the solemnity due to his office and to the occasion, the Returning Officer announced the long awaited results.

"I, Thomas Sparrow, Returning Officer for the Woodchester Borough Constituency, hereby give notice that the total number of votes given for each candidate at the election of Thursday 6th May was as follows. Helen Mary Atherton, Liberal Democrat, seven thousand four hundred and thirty eight. David Edward Barnes, British National Party, two hundred and eighty two. Darren Hugh Davis, Independent, seven hundred and seventy eight. Henry Arthur Dunn, Labour Party, fifteen thousand two hundred and forty two. Clive Alec Fotheringay, United Kingdom Independence Party, five hundred and twenty five. Diane Joyce Garnham, Green Party, three hundred and two. Brian Edgar Selwyn Timpson, Conservative Party, nineteen thousand three hundred and twenty two. And that Brian Edgar Selwyn Timpson has been duly elected to serve as Member of Parliament for the Woodchester Borough Constituency."

Loud cheers rang out and not a few boos too as cameras flashed, eager to capture the new MP's face in readiness for the front page of the Woodchester Mercury. Elated but a little dazed, Brian made his way to the dais to give his acceptance speech. Her mind temporarily distracted from the increasing fullness of her bowels, Anne walked proudly beside him, not fully grasping the implications of what lay ahead but simply thrilled that her husband's dream had become a reality. Although slightly stunned by his victory, Brian wasn't long lost for words and his performance, well rehearsed, was a polished one.

"Ladies and gentleman, it gives me enormous pleasure to stand here as your new Member of Parliament. It is not just a pleasure though but a tremendous responsibility with which I have been entrusted. To quote an old Chinese proverb, we are living in interesting times, and the months, possibly years, which lie ahead will not be easy - whichever party or combination of parties - gets to form the new government. However ours is a great country and Woodchester is a great city with a high performing university, state of the art hospital, glorious medieval cathedral which equals any in the land and, despite the economic downturn, a vibrant commercial centre. All of this is good but I believe that it can be even better. I have long been committed to securing a direct rail link between Woodchester and London. It is my belief that such a link will enhance our economic prosperity and add to the city's attractiveness as a place to live. It is therefore my intention to do everything within my power to make it a reality during my time as your Member of Parliament. To conclude I must thank first of all the other candidates for ensuring that a robust but clean and fair campaign was fought. I do not share their convictions or else I would not be stood here tonight. However they are all people of honour, integrity and deep conviction to which I must pay tribute. Secondly, I must thank those friends, particularly the good people of Woodchester Conservative Association who put their faith in me and, without whose unstinting efforts on the campaign trail, I most certainly would not be stood here tonight. My thanks go to the people of this city who had the courage to vote for change and for something new. Rest assured, I will not let you down. Last but by no means least I must pay tribute to my beautiful long-suffering wife, Anne, without whose love, patience, good humour and hard work I would have stood no chance of ever representing you in parliament."

Applause filled the room. However as Brian left the dais, Anne finally lost the battle to control her bowels as her anal sphincter gave up the fight. Unable to stop if if she'd wanted, she sensed a familiar warmth and muddiness, as well as a gentle crackling sound, as her panties filled with rich brown poo. The smell, her characteristic 'stewed veg' aroma, was overpowering. Before she could react to what was happening a pair of familiar arms tenderly encircled her and she was gently led away to the toilets by Wendy, her old friend.

Escorting her into a cubicle, Wendy closed the door firmly behind her. She had about her the firm but kindly air of someone determined to take charge and who would brook no argument.

"Right Anne. Give me that skirt. At least if we can salvage that it will be something."

Anne obediently did as she was told. It was clear from Wendy's tone that any attempt at protest would be as inadvisable as it was fruitless. Meekly handing her skirt over she decided that some attempt at an apology would be in order.

"Look, I'm really sorry Wendy."

Before she could continue, her friend cut her short.

"Sorry? What do you mean by sorry? I think you know very well it's not me you've got to apologise to. This is Brian's big night for goodness sake and you just couldn't help yourself, could you? Now let's get those pants off – carefully, over the toilet if you please."

Anne did as she was bidden, gingerly removing her soiled panties but still getting her hands dirty as she did so.

Wendy sighed.

"Those knickers had better go straight in the sanitary towel bin. It's just as well there's plenty of toilet paper in here and I had the foresight to bring some moist wipes. I just knew something like this was bound to happen, but even I've never seen you in such a mess. Honestly, Anne Timpson!"

Anne blushed, trying to clean herself up as best she could, getting through countless sheets of toilet paper and grateful there was a plentiful supply of the stuff.

"Wendy, I really am sorry and I do appreciate your help. You don't know how much it means right now."

Purposeful as ever, Wendy handed her friend some wipes.

"Save that for later, Anne. Right now we need to concentrate on getting you cleaned up as best we can."

Anne finally wiped the worst of the sticky, revolting poo from her bum cheeks.

"Wendy, you're right – as usual. I need to get cleaned up and back out there for Brian as soon as possible. As you say it's his big night and he needs me."

"Not smelling like a crew yard, he doesn't. When you've cleaned up as well as we can manage in here, you're coming straight back to my place for a shower and a change of clothes. It's just as well we're both size fourteen. There'll be plenty of time to rejoin him before the champagne breakfast at party HQ. I'll tell him you're a little unwell and you're going to my place to rest for an hour or so."

Anne looked at her friend knowing very well she wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.

"You're right, Wendy. What was I thinking of?"

"I don't know. Look, I think you're clean enough now to go out to my car. I've got an old paper that can go on the passenger seat. Let's get that skirt back on you. At least that'll see another day – pity the same can't be said for your panties. Come on, I think we've both got to wash our hands although yours might smell for some time."

Anne obediently followed Wendy out of the toilets and outside to the carpark.

As they got into the car, Wendy turned to Anne, the kind but resolute tone still in her voice.

"Anne, you're an MP's wife now. For good or ill that means you've got responsibilities. I know it goes against the grain, but you're going to have to change your ways and go to the loo before public engagements - even if you don't want to . Otherwise you're going to have accidents like this all the time and I won't always be there to rescue you."

Anne looked nervously at her friend.

"Wendy, I'm not sure I can do it."

"What? Get a grip on your toilet habits? For goodness sake."

"No. Go through with this business of being the dutiful, angelic MP's wife."

"Well you're going to have to. Brian's been elected and, to put it bluntly, you've no choice. You could have vetoed the whole thing at the outset if you'd wanted but chose not to. It's not as though you didn't have the choice."

"Choice? What do you know about choice? You've never been married, Wendy Sullivan. If I'd tried to stop Brian chasing his dream and standing for this election I'd never have heard the last of it. Now, I just feel trapped though."

"Well don't. That's nerves and exhaustion talking, not the Anne Timpson I know and love. Trust me. Brian's got his dreams for now but I don't think he'll be the Woodchester MP for long. Westminster's full of temptation – pecuniary, sexual and otherwise. We both know Brian has his 'weaknesses' - to put it mildly. It's only a matter of time before he pays a visit to Brewer Street and someone there decides to tip off the media. That will be the end of his parliamentary career, trust me. Of course you'll be the dutiful wife and 'stand by him' as they say in the press but that – or something like it – will mean the end of his political career. You'll forgive him because you've got too much invested in that marriage to do otherwise and he does keep you in the style to which you're accustomed. In the meantime, just sit tight and keep your nose – or rather your bum – clean."

"Oh thanks Wendy! So my husband's likely to cheat on me in some seedy dive with a filthy whore and disgrace himself in the process. Great. I know he's fucking his secretary but at least I know who she is and believe me, he'll pay for it when I catch him but, as for what you're saying, I just can't get my head round it."

Wendy tutted.

"Oh Anne, don't be such a drama queen. It might not come to that. We both know where Brian's weaknesses lie and if it's not sex it will be something else. Besides, whilst you'll have to be on parade at civic functions and the like, Brian's going to be away from home even more than he is now. You'll have quite a lot of freedom. Maybe we could spend more quality time together, go to bed sometimes, and savour a taste of life as it was before Brian. Remember the uses we discovered for a banana at uni?"

A broad smile crossed Anne's face.

"Wendy, you're right – as always."

THE END