Lockdown Loo

The stink of urine and ammonia in the ladies’ toilets was so potent that it should have been bottled as insect spray.

Filthy green tiles on the floor and walls were chipped and slimy, the toilets blocked with God knows what, while human excrement had solidified on the sides of the enamel. There was no toilet paper in the holders, only torn pieces plastered to the floor.

They hadn’t been cleaned for days.

“Shit!” said Maddy appropriately.

Crouched down behind a toilet door with its lock hanging off, and keeping a safe two-metre distance from the toilet itself, she again tried to summon up courage to open the door and step outside.

That thought alone flooded her stomach with dread.

She groaned and gripped her handbag, hating herself for being so weak. It wasn’t like she’d asked for agoraphobia to blitz her life just because she’d been stuck in her apartment in lockdown for months. She hated her shaky hands and sentry heart stuck on red alert.

Over the past few weeks, Maddy had developed an overwhelming fear of leaving her apartment; coronavirus had invaded her life, taken over and drowned all rational thought. Even going from the lounge to her bedroom was in landmine territory when she had to walk past the window. Pulling the curtains across to hide everything was a waste of time – as soon as her mother dropped by on her frequent recces she always yanked them to one side… ‘How on earth can you live in the dark like this, Maddy?’

But then her mother didn’t understand that Maddy didn’t want to look at the outside world. She hated the outside world. She wanted to live in a burrow, like a mole, safely tucked away.

 A single tear stuck in the corner of her eye but like Maddy it wasn’t going anywhere. Oh God, how was she going to get home? The fact that it was only a hundred metres down the road didn’t make her feel any better. Why, oh why, had she decided to try and make it to the shop to get cigarettes? For crying out loud, her mother would have bought some if she’d asked her to. Except that Maddy hadn’t felt like listening to the diatribe on smoking or experiencing ‘the look’: ‘I do wish you would stop smoking, Maddy.’ Then the sigh.

She needed a smoke, badly.

Maddy fumbled around in her bag and in irritation turned the bag upside down. Yes, cigarette!

She tore open the pack well aware that there was just one cigarette left in it. A picture of a diseased lung castigated her. As if I give a fuck! She poked her thumb and finger inside the packet to retrieve the plastic lighter that was keeping the cigarette company.

She was about to light it when she heard a noise. She froze, her heart thumping madly and her scalp tight with fear, fervently praying that whoever was there would clear off. She stayed as silent as a mouse on cat alert, her cigarette and lighter suspended a centimetre apart.

Footsteps padded towards her cubicle, thankfully stopping before they reached it.

There was the sound of someone trying to close a toilet door, eventually kicking it shut. The woman coughed and Maddy had to listen while she peed. Swear words filled the air while the woman thumped the toilet paper dispenser. No paper. The sound of rustling – presumably the woman was pawing through her bag for a tissue. Silence. A grating noise when the toilet door opened, footsteps, a tap being turned on. More silence.

Maddy gritted her teeth. What was the woman doing?

Eventually, the woman’s footsteps departed to the outside world and Maddy heard her complain, “Those toilets are absolutely disgusting! Seriously, they should be bombed.”

Well, Maddy couldn’t disagree with that. She stared at the wall in front of her. Someone had scrawled ‘my pussyz got 3 legs’ across it.

Would she ever have thought that was funny? She had no idea. Her mind was being controlled by the fear gods.

Wide-eyed, she gazed at the words, swallowed hard and made a decision. She would wait until it was dark so that she could creep out of the toilets and into the park – there were some holly bushes just outside that she could hide behind. After checking that no-one was around she’d make a mad dash for her apartment. More importantly, she’d run so fast that she wouldn’t have time to see the world around her and the welcome darkness would have suffocated the daylight and shrouded all open spaces. As soon as she was home, with the door locked, she’d be safe.

And she might never go out again.

Maddy prodded a button on her cell phone: 15:37. In another hour or so it would be dark and she could put her plan into action. Thank God for the British winters and dark nights.

Clutching her bag like a lifejacket, she stretched awkwardly, her muscles screaming that they were stiff and sore.

She lit her cigarette, took a couple of drags, and immediately stubbed it out on the wall in the P of ‘pussyz’. She had to make it last for at least another hour.

When and if she made it back to her apartment she would just have to text her mother; there was no way Maddy could go into the shop even if it was just across the road.

With a jolt of panic, she remembered that the park gate was due to close at five.

Time trickled by. Maddy prodded her cell phone again: 16:45. She puffed on the remaining centimetre of her cigarette, stamped it out and took four deep breaths. “It’s now or never…”

She opened the cubicle door and looked around. Thankfully, the lighting was low, the colour of stem ginger.

She caught sight of herself in a cracked mirror and wished she hadn’t. She could have given ET a run for his money.

She took a step forward, still wincing from the pain of squatting in the same position for over an hour. 

She crept past three cubicles and reached the outside door. She paused. She felt as if someone had clamped her chest with a vice; she could barely breathe. I can't do this, a voice inside her head screamed. Another voice interjected… well, you got here in the first place, didn’t you?

Cigarettes were a potent force.

She turned and looked back at the grubby, stinking toilets. Well, at least they had been a refuge.

She tried to deep breathe again. She couldn’t. Her lungs refused to stretch that far and she couldn’t bear breathing in more ammonia fumes. Come on Maddy… they’re going to lock the gate.

Like a hunted animal she used the bushes and trees as cover, praying that her plasticine knees wouldn’t give way.

She reached the park gate and stepped through it. Go, go!

Maddy crept along the park fence and garden walls, trailing her fingers over them for comfort.

And there in the distance was her home! Her den!

She began to move quickly now that she could see the block of apartments where she lived. Nearly there. That welcoming thought spurred her on and the walk became easier. She was almost standing upright by the time she arrived at the entrance.

She crashed through the lobby doors and burst into tears, glancing behind her to see if anyone was following her. Why would they? She was alone.

Now all she had to do was get her keys out; also, she was desperate for the toilet – ironic considering where she’d just been.

Maddy thrust her hand into her pocket. Where were the keys? Fear began its wormy squirm… she’d purposely put them there for easy access. She groped around… ah, all wrapped up in a tissue. Of course they would be.

She yanked the keys out of her pocket and gripped them tightly. Bile rose to her throat when she heard voices. Someone was coming! What if they were waiting to kidnap her and make her go outside again?

The lobby was empty, a soft light showing the way to her door on the ground floor. Number two.

She surged forward, her arm stretched out, keys at the ready. As she reached her door she jumped at a slithering sound and spun round in panic. Just the lift.

Now to get the key in the lock. This simple action took on the dimension of sitting on a sinking boat while you watched the fin of a shark closing in. She sobbed. For fuck’s sake! And why did they make keyholes so small?

She scraped the key around the lock for a few seconds until she managed to stab it home and turn it. Maddy punched the door open, giving herself a split second to get inside before kicking it shut. She quickly locked it and bent over, her hands clutching her knees. She was safe.

Now she needed to call her mother and beseechingly ask her to buy some cigarettes.

She felt in her bag. Where was her phone?

She suddenly remembered tipping her bag upside down in the cubicle while she was looking for her cigarettes.

She swallowed hard and sank to the floor. It must still be in there.

She closed her eyes. I really must give up smoking.