Chapter 1
Graham sat at the end of the bed and slowly began to undo his tie. Halfway through he stopped and allowed his arms fall to his side. It had been another pointless, paper pushing day at the Department of Work and Pensions where Graham worked as a clerk processing the claims of what he generally considered were the dregs of society. The position had been vaguely tolerable while his wife worked there but that had been six months ago.
Although only 28 he looked at least a decade older, a fact that did not escape his attention as he glanced at the framed wedding picture on the bedside cabinet. Taken just two years previously their smiling faces in the mid summer sunshine hinted at much to look forward to. His youthful looks had lost their vigour, a slight paunch had begun to emerge above his waistline and his receding mousey hairline lay lank over his watery brown eyes. To some he had a slightly grungy look made fashionable by bands such as Kaiser Chiefs and Green Day.
In terms of looks, Sally was seen as quite a catch for Graham; she possessed a full curvaceous body, large breasts, full hips and slender hips which gave her a noticeable hour glass figure. Her blonde hair that fell straight below her shoulders, big baby blue eyes and pouting red lips. She drew people's attention -- both men and women -- by her high full cheek bones which then tapered to an exquisite chin giving her an almost Oriental look.
However, her track record in relationships was somewhat chequered, a fact that Graham's mother was only too ready to bring to her only child's attention. Sally, he was at pains to point out, was just misunderstood. How else do you explain two divorces by the time she was 30? Five years her junior Sally saw in Graham someone with whom she felt truly comfortable. It was true she carried the baggage of two failed marriages but that was when she was young, impressionable and liked the thrill of being with men who were volatile and dangerous. Graham was the complete opposite. He had a degree in history, was non judgemental about her past and was so totally laid back it was untrue. Behind her back Sally's friends thought Graham a bit wet and nerdy although privately commented that at least she had finally met someone who accommodated her strong, and sometimes overbearing, personality.
Sally's voice from the bottom of the stairs broke his reverie.
"How long will you be, Graham?" she called impatiently.
"Fucks sake," Graham uttered under his breath and then more audibly over his shoulder in the direction of the bedroom door, "I'll be down in a sec. Just getting changed."
Five minutes later Graham descended the stairs in a faded black T Shirt and gray jogging bottoms. With a sense of foreboding he knew that there would be no meal ready even though the lazy bitch had given up work in order to pursue a career as a writer. Although this meant that there was less money coming in to the household Graham had raised little objection at the time.
"Anything to eat?" Graham enquired half expectantly as he appeared in the doorway in the sitting room. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry," replied Sally without averting her eyes from some mindless soap opera being played out on the television. "I've just been working hard on an article for a women's magazine."
"I'll nip out and get a takeaway."
Without waiting for a response Graham put on his tan leather bomber jacket, grabbed his keys and wallet and left the house for the short walk to the local Chinese. While leaning against the counter waiting for his order to arrive Graham flicked through the well thumbed tabloid lingering over the picture of the topless model posing in unfeasibly short cut off jeans, open check shirt and Stetson. Her tits were nice and pert but not as large as Sally's. He then let his mind wander on to the prospect of his own wife exposing her breasts in a national newspaper after having another man snap hundreds of shots of her in various poses. The thought was not displeasing.
Returning home Graham dutifully transferred the glutinous contents from the polystyrene cartons on to warm plates and fetching a couple of bottles of beer from the fridge he then ferried the trays of food in to the sitting room. Sally gave Graham a brief smile of gratitude before returning to the TV screen.
This is what their short-lived marriage had come to; TV dinners and sparse conversations which soon descended into irritability. Their love life had waned quite dramatically from the urgent, intense and sweaty coupling of the initial dating phase to the Friday night 'two minute wonder', as Sally termed it, which followed the routine visit to the pub. Sally was now bored with the customary 'few beers down at the The Crown & Cushion', an old fashioned ale house which hadn't seen any refurbishment probably since it was built in Victorian times but which Graham had deemed 'having character'. Ironic considering that he was beginning to lack any, she mused. They were invariably joined with a handful of Graham's work colleagues, all of whom were male, led dull lives and talked incessantly about work. After a couple of pints the conversation round the table of drinks would then descend to lewd comments about the physical attributes of the female members of staff. One of them in particular, Jimmy, a stocky 40 something caveman with permanent stubble, clearly had a penchant for women with large breasts.
"Have you seen the fucking norks on Jane in the New Claims Department?" Jimmy uttered in mock incredulity, cupping two hairy hands under his own developing man boobs. "Wouldn't you just love to bury your face in those dairy pillows?"
The assembled lads all guffawed and in an attempt to excuse his lack of political correctness, he turned and winked at Sally before involuntarily taking a long and indiscrete gawp at her own large tits which were thinly disguised under a loose fitting red V neck sweater. The reference to large breasts and the presence of Sally had not escaped the other men either who all took more furtive glances at Sally's large and firm breasts as they took sips from their pints. Sally just smiled and shook her head in mock disdain at the bawdy comments which she took in good humour. Boys will boys.
Being the only woman in a group of men did not bother Sally. Apart from Jimmy the Neanderthal the other guys were largely chatty and tended to buy her and Graham the drinks as an unspoken appreciation of the fact that she provided the assembled males with some rather tasty eye candy for the evening. However, what really intrigued Sally -- and was one of the reasons she kept attending these Friday sessions -- was the way in which Graham seemed totally unphased by the sexist and overt language which his wife was subjected to. He sat quietly on the periphery of the group occasionally contributing a witty story but largely laughing along with, and even egging on, guys like Jimmy to keep the banter going.
Sally herself recognised deep down that there was no spark anymore -- conversationally, socially and sexually. Not so long ago she was a young woman who took pride in her appearance, got a thrill from the looks she received from admiring men. Now she wore baggy tops which did little to hide her round globe-like tits but which did cover the start of a flabby stomach. She could no longer squeeze into her designer straight leg jeans as her upper thighs and butt had added inches in recent months and so longer and looser skirts and dresses had begun to appear in her wardrobe.
"Anything decent on?" said Graham
"Not sure..." replied Sally matter of factly and began flicking through the TV guide on the remote control. Sally lived off a diet of soaps and reality programmes, none of which particularly inspired Graham whose preference for documentaries was also routinely sidelined. Sally's search then paused on some obscure channel showing a Louis Theroux documentary on the swinging scene in America.
