5.
Mitch had been seduced by all the adulation, and was enjoying his new role as the centre of attention, which he sought to maintain with amusing baby behaviour and general cavorting. As the party progressed, the wine flowed, and everyone slowly relaxed, he made himself useful by bringing in snacks and drinks from the kitchen, and receiving caresses and kisses in return. He was beginning to understand the feminine weakness for babies – especially, it seemed, big, grown-up ones. The ladies were entranced by his antics.
“He’s just too cute,” whispered Patty, while he was in the kitchen. I hope this won’t be a one-off.”
“I think he’s actually enjoying himself,” returned Sarah. “Let’s keep it that way, shall we? I like him like this!”
So they indulged him to his heart’s content. Alice was off alcohol, and couldn’t be tempted by even a sip of champagne.
“No, Grace, I’m not going to give in. I’m the sort of person who crumbles once I’ve had a taste. It’s all or nothing – so it’s going to be nothing. Pregnant women and babies are not allowed.”
“Babies? But surely a big strapping baby like that” – she nodded towards Mitch, who was in the act of proffering a glass to Patty – “could have the tiniest sip?”
“Well,” said Elizabeth, “maybe just a sip…”
So Mitch had a sip. He coughed and choked a bit, then smiled and feigned drunkenness. But he had got the taste, and on his next visit to the kitchen he helped himself to another sip…and then another…
It was a couple of hours before the ladies began thinking about supper, by which time Mitch, under the influence of the champagne, had quite lost any remaining inhibitions, and was now of the opinion this was his party, rather than Alice’s. Between cuddling up to each of them in turn, he ran about proclaiming himself the naughtiest baby there had ever been, jumped on the table and performed a little dance of defiance, demanded they all played “he”, and even at one point threatened, with a hysterical laugh, that “baby Mitch gonna do a big wee in his pull-up”! This suggestion may have been prompted by the fact he probably did need the toilet, but, rather to the disappointment of the company, it was not at this stage of proceedings acted upon, mainly because he was too busily engaged in showing off. But his elation was about to be brought to a sudden ending. There was a ring at the bell, Alice went to answer it, and the sound of voices was heard drifting down the passage.
“Sarah said we could come round later…if that’s all right, Alice.”
“Yeah, auntie Alice, if that’s all right…”
“Oh…it’s the Bradleys,” laughed Sarah. “I’d forgotten I’d asked them round. Mitch? Now you’ll have two little girls to show off to, too.”
But Mitch had frozen in mid-cavort, his happy expression replaced by one of horror, and he was looking around for a place to flee.
“Come in, girls…” he heard. That was enough. He sprang to the door, and before they had entered the house he was half-way up the stairs. He knew Alice’s house a little, and chose her bedroom as the one least likely to be invaded. It was opposite the upstairs toilet, at which he hesitated, but in view of the imminent danger, he opted to go into hiding without delay. And before the girls had arrived in the living-room, Mitch was secreted in Alice’s big wardrobe, hiding behind a row of dresses.
Downstairs, greetings having been said, the girls were invited to share supper, and offered preliminary drinks. After a while Lottie, who had been looking around with a frown on her face, turned to Sarah.
“Where’s…”
“Mitch? I don’t know, Lottie. Haven’t seen him since you arrived. He’s been so hyper today. Jumping about like a jack-in-the-box, wanting to play games all the time…”
“It’s true,” added Patty. “Earlier on he jumped up on the table and started dancing!”
“Really?” asked Lettie, a smile spreading over her face. “So where is he? Is he still in his baby things?”
“Oh, yes,” laughed Grace, “he loves his baby outfit. You know what? I think he’s probably playing hide-and-seek. He probably wants you two to go find him!”
The girls needed no second bidding. They jumped up and began to look behind chairs, then they ran in the kitchen, and then out into the garden. They soon returned, out of breath.
“He’s not out there,” said Lettie. “Can we search the house, auntie Alice?”
“Of course, girls. Look carefully. He’s a cunning little boy, that one.”
Meanwhile, up in the dark, warm, scented wardrobe, Mitch was feeling not at all comfortable. The champagne was having its effect. Not only was he feeling a little dizzy and sleepy, but now he really did need the toilet, and was regretting he hadn’t gone earlier. Everything seemed quiet, so he decided to sneak across the corridor. He had just opened the bedroom door when he heard the patter of feet on the stairs. Quickly, and as quietly as he could, he retreated to his hiding-place and slid the wardrobe door shut. He worked his way as far back into the corner as he could, bitterly regretting his decision to bypass the toilet earlier. His needs were becoming more urgent every minute.
Ironically, Mitch’s surmise that the sanctity of Alice’s boudoir would be the least susceptible to intrusion proved correct, and it was almost ten minutes before he heard the door gently open and the sound of the girls’ voices – by which time urgency had turned to desperation, and he was biting his lip with the effort of containment.
“He must be in here, then,” whispered Lettie.
“Hadn’t we better ask auntie Alice?” said Lottie, nervously.
“No, she won’t mind, cos she would have said…”
Despite his best efforts Mitch could feel himself beginning to leak into his pull-up. He gripped the front of his plastic pants, held his breath, and prayed they would go away quickly so he could dash to the toilet. They seemed to take an age exploring every crevice of the room, until they finally arrived at the wardrobe. He could hear them murmuring right outside the door. He kept very still – at least, as still as he could in the circ-umstances. At least he was well hidden behind the packed row of dresses. Then the door was slowly slid aside. Light flooded in. He hoped against hope they wouldn’t start probing between the hangers, so it was with a surge of relief that he heard Lettie say, “Well, he’s not in here then. Where can he be?”
The door started to slide shut. It was half way, when Lottie exclaimed,
“What’s that? Down there – look!”
Mitch’s relief turned to terror.
Lettie gave a shout of triumph. “Bootees! In auntie Alice’s wardrobe? I don’t think so!” The dresses in front of Mitch were thrust apart, and there were the Bradleys, beaming with delight. They had him fair and square. The sudden dénoument was too much for poor Mitch. He had been holding himself in for so long, and the shock of discovery undid it all in an instant. With a whimper of relief and despair, he lost control, and gave way to the demands of nature. He flooded his pull-up, the tightly-elasticated plastic pants ballooning with the sudden inundation. The girls’ mouths fell open with disbelief. Lottie was the first one to recover. She ran to the door, threw it open, and shouted at the top of her voice.
“Auntie Alice! Auntie Alice! Come quickly! Baby Mitch is doing a big wee in his nappy!”