Graham, Just One Shade

by Guy Lilburne

  We sat down with a drink and, almost immediately, Naomie got back up to go and dance. She danced for the rest of the night with every bloke in the room except for me. When she wasn’t dancing she was sitting with one bloke or another, or standing at the bar surrounded by a group of men. When a ‘dirty dancing’ record came on, she went and danced with some old bloke who was actually feeling her tits on the dance floor….. and she was letting him! It wasn’t ‘Dirty Dancing’. It wasn’t even ‘Dirty old man Dancing’. It was just ‘Dirty old man groping!’

  I really didn’t know why I was there. I just wanted to leave Naomie there and go, but it seemed like everyone was looking at me, probably just waiting for such a reaction. When I say that everyone was looking at me, I mean everyone except Naomie. I don’t think that she had given me a second thought all night.

  I felt that Naomie had made me look very stupid in front of everyone. I felt belittled. I thought that it was cruel and nasty. I can flirt as good as the next person, but I would never rub someone’s nose in it like that. I felt like a complete Prat and, just sitting there watching her flirt with all these men, made me look a Prat in front of everybody.

  I couldn’t punch anyone. I couldn’t just leave, but I certainly couldn’t sit there any longer stewing in my own embarrassment. I retired to the bar and stood alone with my beer. After about half an hour a woman came up to me.

  “So you’re Graham?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re the Graham who’s stolen Naomie’s heart away!”

  “Are you having a laugh?”

  “Well, that’s what she’s telling everyone.”

  “You must be mistaken. Have you seen her tonight?”

  “Oh! That’s just Naomie” she laughed. “You’ll have to get used to that.”

  “Actually, I don’t have to, and I won’t.”

  “Oh dear!” she said and walked back off into the crowd.

  At the end of the night Naomie came and found me to go home. I don’t think she had a clue how pissed off I was. She was full of smiles and full of beans. She was happy. I was just relieved to be going, but even leaving was an agonisingly slow process with Naomie stopping every couple of feet to kiss and hug someone.

  “I’ll wait in the car for you” I whispered.

  “OK, darling.”

  I waited in the car for 28 minutes. She really was taking the piss. We drove home.

  “Wasn’t that a great night” she enthused.

  “No. It was bollocks!”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It was the worst night I’ve ever had. Why did you ask me to go with you, Naomie?”

  “Why, what’s wrong?”

  “Naomie, you flirted outrageously with everyone. You totally ignored me. I felt stupid and embarrassed watching it all. I would never have done that to you. Don’t ever ask me to go somewhere with you again, because I will never put myself in that position again.”

  “Oh” she said.

  We drove in silence for a while.

  “You are silly” she said and snuggled up to me as I drove.

  I got over it and we carried on falling more and more in love. Although it wouldn’t be the last time her flirtatious nature caused problems between us. Our love settled into a steady relationship and we were incredibly happy and having lots of great sex. Naomie now had a key to my house and a lot of her clothes and things had found a permanent home in the drawers, cupboards and wardrobes, which used to be home to my clothes. My clothes were now all re-housed in the spare wardrobe and in just one drawer of the chest in my bedroom. How do women always manage to do that?

  In February Naomie was supposed to come to my house after work one Friday, but she telephoned me and told me that her best friend for years, Maureen, was feeling really down and had done for some time. Naomie said that she had promised to have a weekend away with her and that Maureen had just rung her and they were going to Scotland that night for the weekend. So she wouldn’t be able to see me that night.

  I said that ‘of course she should go to Scotland with Maureen’ and that ‘I hoped that the weekend would do her good’. Naomie said that they were just going to drive up and book into a B & B when they got to Edinburgh.

  Naomie rang me again later on in the afternoon and asked me to meet her after work for a drink, before she went to collect Maureen and go off to Scotland. I think we were both a bit sad as we sat in the pub saying goodbye. Naomie kept telling me how she didn’t want to go and how much she’d miss me. I was going to miss her too!

  It seemed a really long weekend. We sent a few texts to each other on the Friday night. I sent some on Saturday, but got no reply. I sent some more on Sunday, but again got no reply. I was worried and I couldn’t dismiss the thought that she was with another man. I tried to stop thinking like that, but it kept coming back into my thoughts. On Sunday night Naomie rang me, telling me that they were on their way home. She asked if she could come around that night to see me, but it would be very late.

  I waited up. I was happy to see her. She looked wonderful. We kissed and held each other a lot. Naomie cried and told me that she had missed me and then she said the magic words;

  “I love you.”

  We made love several times through the night. Absence really had made the heart grow fonder. (And the dick grow harder!)

  Winter turned slowly into Spring.

  We went bowling one night and took my son. Samson. It was a fun night and the three of us were having a laugh. I noticed that the security guard had taken a shine to Naomie and he ended up standing behind our lane while we were bowling, trying to involve himself as much as he could in our conversation. Naomie, as usual, enjoyed the attention and I’m sure that the guard was flattered by her flirtation. In fact, I bet he couldn’t believe his luck because he wasn’t a handsome man. He was seriously overweight and his scruffy uniform was several sizes too small. It smelled as if it hadn’t been washed in a while!

  I heard him telling Naomie that he wasn’t going to be a security guard forever and that he was, in fact, going to become a police detective soon. But he was waiting for a reply from the Royal Marines first before he decided on his career choice. I was an area manager and had a staff of 100’s to look after and I knew that he was talking bollocks. I had had enough.

  “Mate, haven’t you got to go and mind the front door, or the sweet machine or something?”

  He laughed and half nodded

  “I’m really not joking” I said. “Now fuck off!”

  “Oh, right” he said and ambled off.

  After the bowling the three of us played pool. The security guard had ambled his way back towards us at the pool tables. He kept a safe distance, but the cheeky bastard was still smiling over at Naomie and shouting “Good shot.” or “Hard luck.” every time she took a shot.

  Naomie ended up going over and talking to him. She just couldn’t help herself! Again, I was embarrassed and feeling foolish.

  “Why is she talking to that fat man, Dad?” asked Samson.

  “Because she can’t help herself, son.”

  We finished the game and left without telling Naomie. She was so wrapped up in conversation with the security guard that she didn’t see us leaving. I was really pissed off. We waited outside by the car and after a while she came out escorted by the security guard. He went back inside when he saw me. We got in the car.

  “That’s the last time that you will ever embarrass me in front of my son” I said

  There was a long silence.

  “Who the fuck do you think you are to treat me like that?” I exploded. “If you want to chat up other men then don’t do it when I’m around. Or just fuck off with them and don’t come back. You are not nice enough or pretty enough to ruin my life” I continued.

  “Ho
w dare you talk to me like this in front of Samson” she countered.

  “How dare I? You cheeky bitch!”

  We drove home in silence. When we got home Naomie collected up all her clothes and things without saying a word. She threw the house key at me and walked out of the house.

  I still loved her, but I was glad that she had gone. I was glad to have my house back and glad to have all my drawers and cupboards back. I was glad that this intense relationship was over. I was glad that I hadn’t let a beautiful girl destroy my life; because that’s something that beautiful women will always have the potential to do.

  A few days later Naomie came to see me and we made up. Things seemed to get a lot better after that. The relationship wasn’t so intense. Naomie never flirted with anyone. Well, at least not in front of me. Although things seemed a lot better I never gave her the house key back and I never allowed her to keep any stuff at my house. I never allowed her to move back in!

  Spring turned into a glorious Summer.

  Naomie still managed to surprise and upset me on a few occasions. The most common thing was that she would tell me that she was going to lunch with some bloke, or going to see some bloke who was an old friend or work colleague. In conversation she would just drop it out that he was an ex-lover or an ex-boyfriend, or that they had just been ‘fuck buddies!’, or that they had had an affair at some time in the past.

  It all made me feel very uneasy, but Naomie couldn’t see the harm in still seeing these people. It was normal to her to keep in touch with her ex-lovers I guess.

  On May Bank Holiday we were shopping in B&Q when her phone rang. It was another ex-lover just ringing ‘for a chat’.

  All the way around B&Q Naomie chatted happily away to him, all the time I was getting more and more annoyed.

  “………..No, I’m in B&Q with Graham….. No he doesn’t mind you ringing…. He’s used to me now.”

  I took the phone off her.

  “Actually I do mind you ringing” I shouted into the phone. “You fucking cunt, if I ever get to see you I’ll fucking cripple you for life, you wanker…….”

  He hung up before I could finish our conversation!

  “Naomie, either turn your phone off when you are with me or give these bastards days and times to ring you when I’m not around.”

  “I’m sorry” she said.

  It was just a blip and again, after that clearing of the air, things seemed to get better and better. Naomie could be really loving and attentive when she wasn’t playing the vamp. She even had a vulnerable side to her, which few people ever got to see. Despite the setbacks I loved her dearly and most of the time we were very happy and in love.

  Naomie finished work for the August Bank Holiday and came to my house. It was a hot sunny day. I was in the garden. She got changed into a white summer dress and didn’t bother with any underwear. We had a drink and Naomie started splashing me with the garden hose. I took it off her and soaked her. Her white dress clung to her and went completely see through. Her dark nipples stood hard and erect through her dress, her dark pubic hair was also visible through the dress. She looked so sexy. We made love on the lawn, not caring that we could have been seen by any of the neighbours who had bedroom windows overlooking my back garden.

  The next day we went to an old historic market town to look at some antique shops. We had a meal out and had a wonderful time just being together. We were very close that day, and told each other how much we loved each other. And we meant it.

  It was early evening by the time we headed home. On the way home Naomie dropped a bombshell that was to change our relationship forever.

  When any woman starts off with a sentence with ‘There’s something I have to tell you….’, you know straight away that they are either pregnant or have had an affair or, if you are very unlucky, both!

  Naomie came out with it as we drove back towards home that evening.

  “Graham, there’s something I have to tell you!”

  I took a deep breath.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know how to say it.”

  “Well, I’m not going to try and tease it out of you. It’s you who has something to tell me. So just spit it out!”

  “Oh God! Well, do you remember in February when I promised to take Maureen to Scotland for a short break to try and cheer her up?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well it wasn’t that at all. I went up to Scotland to meet Andrew. I had met him on New Year’s Eve in Liverpool and we kept in touch and I went to stay at his house for that weekend.”

  Suddenly I felt sick. I felt betrayed and foolish. I think that there was also some anger mixed in there somewhere as well.

  I wanted to slam the car brakes on, screech to a halt and tell her to get out of the car, but I couldn’t. It was her car and she was driving! My head was spinning. I didn’t know what I wanted to ask her first and, before I could put the questions into any sort of relevant order, they just sort of all fell out at once.

  “Why are you telling me this now? Who the fuck is Andrew? Why didn’t you tell me at the time? Why did you do this to me? Who else knows about this? Did you sleep with him? Of course you did. That was a stupid question. Are you still in contact with him? Has he been down to stay at your house? Why have you carried on seeing me then all this time? Why have you chosen now to wreck everything? Do you love him? Do you love me? Did you ever love me?”

  I was the one who should have been upset, but it was Naomie who started crying. I just stared at the road in front of us. My mind was in a whirl. My emotions were charged and screaming.

  “Please say something Graham” she sobbed.

  “I just fucking did. You haven’t answered yet.”

  “I don’t know why I did it. I love you. That’s why I’m telling you now, because I love you and I didn’t want any secrets between us.”

  “No Naomie! If you loved me then you wouldn’t have done it. I wouldn’t have done it to you.”

  “Nothing happened, well nothing much. There was some heavy petting, but I didn’t sleep with him because I was already in love with you. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

  “That’s bollocks!”

  “Andrew kept in touch for a while afterwards, but I had told him all about you when I was in Scotland. I told him not to ring me anymore.”

  “Do you know what, Naomie?”

  “What?”

  “I’m really not bothered. I can’t trust you. I’ve never been able to trust you. I don’t believe you, and I never will. I think it’s all over now between us. I’ve had enough. Just drop me off at my house and then leave me alone. I really don’t want to see you anymore, talk to you, think about you or think about you with some ginger haired Scottish bastard.”

  “His name is Andrew, and he’s not ginger.”

  “I really don’t give a fuck!”

  We drove in silence, except for the quiet sound of Naomie’s sobbing, until we pulled up outside my house. She turned the engine off as if we were going to sit there and carry on chatting, but I really didn’t want to be anywhere near her. So I just got out of the car and went into the house.

  Naomie just sat in the car, parked in the road in front of my house. I opened a bottle of brandy and a packet of cigarettes and sat in the conservatory at the back of the house and got pissed.

  An hour and a half later there was a knock at the front door. I answered it. It was Naomie. She was crying, and, by the look of her, she had been for some time. “Graham, I love you desperately. Can I come in? We need to talk about this.”

  “No, just fuck off.”

  I shut the door and went and finished off the brandy bottle and went to bed. Was I broken hearted? At that moment, probably yes. But looking back, it had always been hard work with Naomie. I had nev
er been able to trust her and deep down I knew that I was probably saving myself from a lifetime of heartache and deceit. I was quite happy that it was over, and that it was for the best. Well, for me anyway.

  Over the next few weeks Naomie kept ringing me and turning up at my house. I never spoke to her and never let her in. Sometimes she would just sit there in her car parked outside my house for hours at a time. One time she stood in the rain on my front door step for two hours sending me text messages while I was inside just wishing that she would leave me alone or, at the very least, the battery in her mobile would run flat!

  I had become hardened to her. I had fallen out of love with her and I really just wasn’t bothered about her, how she was feeling, or what she did anymore. She carried on trying to talk to me and it just wore me down. I agreed to meet her one night about six of seven weeks later. We sat in her car and parked up around the corner from where I live. She looked and smelled great. She was confident and beaming. She was just happy to be talking to me. She talked a lot, I just listened. She talked down the whole Scottish trip thing and kept telling me how much she loved me. I told her that I had no feelings for her and that I didn’t, and never would trust her, ever again. She begged me, and I mean really begged me, for one more chance.

  I told her that I thought it would be pointless, but I agreed to see her again, but only from time to time and only to suit myself. I told her that it would never be like it was before.

  She started crying again, but this time it was tears of joy and relief.

  We started to see each other again but the tables had well and truly turned. I did whatever I wanted to and she was nothing other than meek and mild and very subservient. Without meaning to, I had destroyed her spirit. It wasn’t an equal relationship. The truth is I just didn’t love her anymore, but she loved me, totally and absolutely. She was a different girl now, but it was all too late. Naomie had already killed off all the love I had had for her.