I class this story as romance not because anyone walks off into the sunset holding hands nor because any hearts are broken, but because the feelings the people involved have for each other are meant to be of at least as much significance as any sex there may be.
And a note to American readers. 1. Arsenal is a football team (that may be "soccer" to you). "Roger" is a slightly anachronistic term for sex, most frequently used as in "I gave him/her a good Rogering". "Fanny" is the type of bottom women have and men don't!
The wedding reception was coming to an end shortly before midnight. I had cast eyes over to the pretty, short haired girl sitting a couple of tables away several times and she had smiled back, though without any obvious enthusiasm. I made my move a little clumsily and walked over to ask her to dance.
"Sure," she said taking my hand.
A jive and a slow dance holding her close, not making that much effort to hide the effect the physical latter had on me, and she said, "Why don't you come and talk to me now you have smooched me. Go and grab me another glass of white wine".
With my usual subtlety the first thing I said after returning with the drinks was, "How come you are here on your own?".
"I split from my partner a few weeks ago, and am not sure what I want now, whether I want us to get back or not."
"Me too," I said. Though in my case it will make no difference what I want, as she is shacked up good and proper with a supposed mate of mine."
"Oh poor you, that is going to take some getting over," and she gave me an affectionate stroke on the arm.
"Why are you undecided?" I asked.
"We had a lot of good times together. We clicked. I enjoyed the closeness and alright the sex and miss that, but ultimately there was a feeling.....both of us had a feeling it wasn't quite right."
"Have you not had sex since you split?" I asked. She would know what was going through my mind and was I bothered? I was reasonably optimistic about where this was leading. I was so glad that I had booked a room in the hotel rather than facing the late night tube ride home.
She took my hand again as she shock her head. "No, at least not with another person in the room." Softening her voice further she went on, "What is your name? I should know that much about you as I am sharing all these supposedly private things"
"Roger" I said- it can be a handy name in this sort of situation. I have heard all the jokes but one from her now might mean I was on a cert. None was forthcoming. "What's yours?"
"Naomi. But look before we go on I had better say something."
"Yes?" I wondered what could be coming up? Surely this was a little early for a warning about her menstrual cycle, if that was what it was.
"I am a lesbian, I am afraid. I was flattered by your erection when we danced, but I won't be able to give you much help with it."
"But what about your boyfriend? Your ex anyway?"
"You weren't listening closely, were you?" The words could have been harsh, but were said with kindly amusement and she was still holding my hand tightly, "You made a wrong assumption, though most people would."
"Sorry", was all I could say.
"What for?"
"Well for not realising, and for getting a you know when I held you dancing."
She laughed, "I don't see why either of those calls for an apology. I would be a bit worried if people thought 'lesbian' as soon as they clapped eyes on me, and like I said turning on another person is a nice feeling, even if they are a man, which does make it rather easy. But I don't want to lead you on or be a cock tease."
"You're really nice," I said, with perhaps a misplaced note of surprise in my voice.
"Thank you, but why shouldn't I be?"
