Page 16 of A Clean Sweep
OK, banish that thought right now. Emily chastised herself yet again for dwelling on the small matter of the age gap. Joe obviously didn’t see it as a problem, so, why should she? Anyway, they were only going out for a bite to eat which was hardly tantamount to a marriage proposal, was it? Maybe he’d decide in the course of the evening that once was enough and he’d simply drop her home and that would be that. Or maybe …
To calm her nerves and try to speed up time a little Emily had met Tabitha for lunch. They’d chosen a sandwich bar close to The Little Shop of Treasures as she only had an hour to spare and Emily didn’t want to eat too much ahead of dinner. As Emily had walked in she spied her daughter at a corner table, fiddling with her phone and looking decidedly down in the dumps.
‘Hi, sweetheart. Everything OK?’
Emily sat down, noting that Tabitha had already ordered for them – a tuna mayo baguette for Emily and a falafel wrap with hummus for herself. Two glasses of freshly poured sparkling water bubbled away next to the plates. Emily took a sip of hers and waited.
‘Hi, Mum. I’m fine. Sorry, was just texting Tom about something. All done now.’
She placed her phone on the table then took a hefty bite of her wrap. Emily followed suit, carefully watching her daughter who looked pretty as a picture as always in a sleeveless, lacy top and black skinny jeans. Her blonde curls were artfully clipped up in a loose knot in a way that Emily always envied. Whenever she tried a similar style she inevitably ended up looking like she’d been caught in a Force Nine gale. She smiled at Tabitha who smiled back, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Oh dear, thought Emily.
‘So, how’s work? Meryl still keeping you on your toes? Maybe I’ll come to the shop with you after lunch, say hello.’
Emily didn’t know Tabitha’s boss terribly well but she liked her and knew they were fond of each other which made for a pleasant working environment. She knew her daughter desperately wanted more out of life than being a shop assistant but she was proud of her and prayed every day that something more suited would come along.
‘Yeah, work’s fine. Well, apart from the odd nightmare customer.'
Tabitha proceeded to relate the tale of her witch-like nemesis and her dissatisfaction with the hand cream selection which had Emily in fits of laughter. Her giggles faded as she realised her daughter was still looking distinctly fed up.
‘And Tom? Everything good with you two?’
Bingo.She’d hit the proverbial nail on the head. Tabitha’s face grew darker as she tore a chunk off her wrap andchewed it with all the ferocity of a starving hyena. She swallowed quickly and wiped a dribble of hummus from her chin.
‘You know, Mum, I’m really not sure. Some days everything seems fine but others— Or perhaps I’m expecting too much. He’s lovely but there are times he drives me mad!’Another long anecdotal tale followed, beginning with the toenail clipping episode and ending with the disastrous spiraliser experiment. Tabitha had a knack of making even the most banal story seem like a work of comedy genius and Emily was soon doubled over with mirth. Although she had a secret sympathy for Tom regarding the courgetti which didn't sound terribly appealing to her either. She'd recently been subjected to some vile concoction of Tabitha's featuring chunks of tofu and other unidentifiable lumps which she'd managed to eat but not without considerable effort and acting skills.
‘No man is perfect, Tabitha. Your dad and I … well, we muddled along but there were many, many times I wondered if there should be more.’
Tabitha gawped at her mother across the table. It was extremely rare for her to mention her dad these days, even rarer for her to admit that their marriage had been less than idyllic. She knew it, of course, but they didn't talk about it. In any case, she felt that she and Tom were better suited than her parents had been – at least in a romantic sense – but still doubts niggled away at the back of her mind.
Emily looked flustered, probably regretting her unexpected outburst. She polished off her sandwich and gazed around the café, catching the eye of a passing waitress.
‘Coffee, Tabitha? Can we have two lattes, please?’
Her composure regained, Emily reached across and squeezed Tabitha's hand.
‘I really like Tom but at the end of the day only you candecide if you're truly right for one another. Don't settle for second-best, Tabitha. You'll only end up regretting it.’
‘What about you, Mum? You're still young – and beautiful – shouldn't you be moving on with your life? Getting out there and meeting some new men? Meryl's hooked up with someone and she seems really happy. Shall I ask her for details of the dating site she used?’
Whatever reaction she might have anticipated, the one she got took Tabitha completely by surprise. Emily was grinning like a Cheshire cat who'd not only got the cream but also the promise of a lifetime of tummy tickles. Come to think of it, she looked more content and – what was the word? – radiant than Tabitha could recall seeing her in recent years.
‘Well, the thing is, my darling daughter, I don't think I'll be needing that dating site. Since I actually have a date. Tonight!’
So, she'd said it. It was out there now and she couldn't take it back. Since Joe had texted to confirm their rendezvous Emily had been torn between telling Tabitha about it or keeping schtum. Even as she entered the sandwich bar she still hadn't decided on the best course of action. Perhaps it was the suggestion that she join an online dating agency that had swung it. Ha, look at me, a fifty-something mother and widow, still able to pull without the aid of dubious dating devices. And not some dodgy old codger lying through his false teeth about his occupation, marital status or year of birth. Nope, she'd bagged a date with a bona fide hunk who genuinely liked her.
‘Oh my God! Mum! You are one serious dark horse. Who is he? Where did you meet him? Is he a friend of Aunt Celeste's? Why didn't you say anything before?’
Question after question tumbled from Tabitha's lips, the two delivered cups of coffee ignored as she waitedbreathlessly for answers. Emily girded her loins – a favourite expression in many of the short stories she forced herself to read – and plunged in before her courage deserted her.
‘His name's Joe. He's a chimney sweep – the one who came by after the book club incident, I told you about that – and he's lovely. Really nice and gentle and he asked me out. And I said yes. We're going for a meal. It probably won't come to anything but …’
Now why had she said that? Why was she so hell-bent on nixing any future plans when they hadn't even got beyond a first date? Was her self-confidence so low that the possibility of going a step further was beyond the realms of belief? Too many years spent alone had clearly chipped away at her already fragile ego.
‘So, spill the beans. What does he look like? Has he been married before? Or is he a widower too? Ooh, I can just about picture him. Tall, dark and totally handsome. In a craggy, mature kind of way. Maybe a bit greying at the temples? I don't mind grey hair, it can look really cool. Hasn't done Phillip Schofield any harm and he's well into his fifties now, isn't he?’
As Tabitha twittered on, an icy chill settled on Emily's stomach and she felt vaguely sick. Deep down she knew the real reason she had hesitated over sharing her news was because Joe was so much younger than her. Closer in age to Tabitha than to herself, and she was very afraid of what her daughter's reaction would be when she learned this unpalatable truth.
‘Erm, he is pretty tall. And dark. And definitely handsome. No grey hair but that's probably because …’
