Page 3 of A Clean Sweep
'So, how was last night?' she asked, sipping her builder’s brew. Meryl had recently joined an online dating service. She’d only been on four dates so far – including this one – but the first three had been unmitigated disasters. The first, with recently divorced car salesman Dave, mainly involved him weeping openly about how his wife had run off with his best friend. The second – Nathaniel (call me Nate) – started more promisingly until she discovered his passion for taxidermy. ‘Just finished the most amazing ferret. It’s getting the eyes right, that’s the tough bit,’ he’d enthused, eyes glittering with all the fervour of a mass murderer. Slapping down a fiver for her drink, she’d fixed him with her own beady stare and the parting words, ‘Get stuffed.’ Which she was really rather proud of. Date number three – accountant Alan – might have had potential if he hadn’t so blatantly lied in his profile about his height. His alleged five foot eleven could only be achieved if he carried around a large crate to stand on. More like five foot two, and she suspected even then that he had lifts in his highly polished brogues. Which meant, standing up, his nose came perilously close to nesting in her not-inconsiderable cleavage. Admiring her décolletage was one thing, but using it as a set of well-padded earmuffs was quite another.
'It went really well!' exclaimed Meryl, more than a hint of joyous disbelief in her voice. 'We hit it off straight away. Somany things in common. He loves going to the movies and cooking and he was really interested when I told him about the shop. His name’s Miroslaw, from Poland originally, but lived here for yonks. Still got a hint of an accent – quite sexy, actually – and he looks a little bit like a younger Al Pacino. Honestly, Tabbie, I think I might have hit the jackpot this time! He runs his own building business, mainly fitting conservatories, new windows, that kind of thing,andhe drives a Range Rover!'
Tabitha smiled, genuinely delighted for her boss, who she also considered a friend despite the age gap. She was one of the few people Tabitha tolerated calling her Tabbie, an abbreviation she hated as it made her feel she should be coughing up fur balls and depositing dead birds on her neighbours’ doorsteps. Her mum had chosen the name because of her love for the old US TV showBewitched, in which the main character Samantha’s daughter was similarly monikered. She generally insisted that it never be shortened – Tom once called her Tab and was lucky he’d ducked in time – but for some reason Meryl was incapable of getting it right. Shame she hadn’t also inherited the character’s ability to perform magic by twitching her nose. That would have come in useful last night. Both to escape the lavatory and to have zapped a zipper across Tom’s guffawing gob.
'Sounds too good to be true! Are you sure he's not married, or gay, or just has appallingly bad eyesight?'
Meryl swatted at her young assistant with a copy of the local free newspaper. 'Less of your cheek, young lady! He was the perfect gentleman. All holding doors open and pushing in chairs. He said he'd nearly been married once, about twenty years ago, but it didn't work out. And he can't possibly be gay, I'd have spotted the signs right away!'
This from the woman who for years had been adamantthat Graham Norton was straight and only holding out for the right woman to cherish his impish Irish charms.
'So when are you seeing the incredibly manly Miroslaw again?' asked Tabitha. She was now ripping open cardboard boxes of newly delivered merchandise, cursing as yet another fingernail snapped in the process.
'Tomorrow evening. We're going to see the new Meryl Streep movie then have a bite to eat at that nice tapas place. What do you think I should wear? I've got a lovely new little floral dress I picked up at Bab's Boutique the other week. Or should I play it down? Maybe jeans and a fitted top?'
Tabitha eyed her boss carefully. Anything but bloody dungarees, she thought. Also, taking into account Meryl's sizeable bosom, she'd err on the side of caution when it came to anything too fitted. Lest a button popped and took out poor Miroslaw's eye.
'The dress sounds good. Maybe play it down with your nice denim jacket and those cute suede boots? So, when will I get to give him the once-over? If he doesn't pass the Tabitha Five Point Test then I'm afraid it's'do widzenia'.'
'Do what? And what is the Tabitha Five Point Test when it's at home?'
Tabitha prided herself on knowing how to say a handful of key phrases in around ten different languages. Not that'donde esta el bano'(where is the bathroom in Spanish) had served her particularly well since she'd never been to Spain. Still, one never knew when these little nuggets of knowledge might come in handy.
'It means 'goodbye' in Polish. The Tabitha Five Point Test is just something I came up with after dating a couple of real duds a few years ago. It's pretty simple. If they can meet the following criteria then they're worth considering.'
Must have good teeth. Preferably their own. Dental hygiene majorly important.
Absolutely no nail biting. Chewed nails and gnawed cuticles are a no-no.
A nice head of hair is good, but will accept partial or full baldness if done with taste. Grey is fine, dodgy dye jobs not.
Should be polite, attentive and have a good sense of humour. An ability to cook would be a bonus but not essential.
Doesn't have to be a genius in bed (although that would be lovely) as long as he knows which bits go where and considers his partner's satisfaction equal to his own.
She ticked off each item on her fingers, Meryl gaping either in awe at her wisdom or disbelief at heractuallyhaving a list compiled. Tabitha was pleased to note that Tom generally complied with all the above, although cooking wasn't his strong suit and sometimes his humour was gained at her own expense.
'Gosh, Tabbie. You've got it all worked out, haven't you? Mind you, having met Tom I can see he fits the bill. How is he, anyway? He hasn't dropped in here for a few weeks now.'
