Page 37 of A Clean Sweep
'You made this? Youactuallymade a meringue?' Emily was incredulous as she took another mouthful of crispy but meltingly soft-in-the-middle dessert. She hated to think how many calories she'd consumed but was confident she'd burn them off a little later.
'Indeed I did, oh doubting one. I find whisking egg whites until they form stiff peaks quite therapeutic. Just because I'm a sad old bachelor doesn't mean I dine on ready meals and toast!' Joe gave her another of his pulse-raising smiles, leaning over to caress Emily's exposed shoulder. The red top fitted like a dream, perfectly complemented by the white jeans which she'd managed to avoid spattering with food. When Joe had picked her up he'd done a double-take, before pronouncing her good enough to eat. 'It's almost a shamewe're not going out, because I'd be the envy of every man in the room with you looking like that.'
His flat was immaculate, all gleaming surfaces, polished wood floors and huge windows that overlooked an area of parkland. It wasn't big but it felt like a proper home. An L-shaped squashy sofa dominated the living space, there were rugs and cushions galore and the open-plan kitchen was light, bright and fully equipped with all the aspiring cook could want. The bedroom and bathroom were equally impressive if a little masculine in their furnishings. Luckily, Emily had managed to add a few feminine touches, if a hot brush, tubs of cleanser and moisturiser and her favourite fluffy slippers counted.
It was only their eighth date but Emily felt totally at ease in Joe's company. Of course, they had got as intimate as humanly possible on the first date but there was no sense of awkwardness or embarrassment. Just a sense of "rightness", of somehow fitting together. It was an altogether new and exciting feeling that made Emily feel like a giggly teenager instead of a menopausal housewife. When she'd looked in the mirror earlier she swore she looked younger too. No amount of expensive anti-ageing products could replicate the radiance that came with dating a seriously hot young man.
'Can I fix you a coffee? I've got a half-decent decent bottle of brandy if you fancy one?
Settled down on the comfy sofa with their coffees and brandies Emily and Joe chatted about everything and anything. He’d been reticent about his past but revealed he'd studied computer science at university and worked briefly for a software company.
'It was OK but my heart wasn't really in it. I'd helped my dad out with the business when I was younger and really enjoyed it. Getting my hands dirty, meeting people, learning the tricks of the trade. So … when he asked if I'd like to join him I jumped at the opportunity. And now we've got Where the Hearth Is, it's pretty full-on. We're a good team. Adam works like a Trojan sourcing new fireplace designs from all over the world and I've put together a pretty impressive website, if I say so myself.'
Emily fetched her laptop and found the site. They navigated through it together, Emily suitably impressed at its easy-to-follow layout and the sheer volume of fireplaces on offer. At the top of the home page were photos of Steve, Joe, Adam and their part-time accountant Rosemary. She was immediately struck by the resemblance between father and son, both fine-looking male specimens. And Adam wasn't too shabby either in the looks department. He had a cheeky twinkle in his eye and for a fleeting moment she wondered … no, she wasnotgoing to interfere in Tabitha's life. If things weren't working out with Tom it was up to her to figure it out. In any case, Adam was probably married or at least seeing someone. Rosemary - who appeared to be in her late sixties with a mop of frizzy grey hair - looked like a retired headmistress. But Joe assured her she was a great laugh and super-efficient at her job.
'So, tell me more about your work,' asked Joe, who now had his arm around Emily's shoulders and was stroking her shoulder again. She pushed the laptop aside and took a sip of brandy. Very nice. They hadn’t shared much in terms of their working lives up until now. Just the basics, content instead to talk about light-hearted topics and enjoy each other’s company.
'There's not much to tell, really. I just edit short stories and the like for women’s magazines. Make sure they're fit for publication. It doesn't make me much money but I can work from home and pretty much suit myself hours-wise, unless there's a tight deadline.'
'Have you never thought of writing something yourself?You said you studied English at uni, so you've clearly got a talent with words. How cool would it be if you knocked out a bestseller? Then I could boast that my girlfriend was famous and accompany you to book signings up and down the country.'
At this, Emily choked back a laugh and almost spat out a mouthful of brandy. 'Not much chance of that, I'm afraid. I have started a couple of books but never got beyond the first chapter or two. I love reading but I just can't seem to find my voice when I'm writing. It all seems too contrived and derivative. I'll stick to what I'm good at which is knocking other people's scribblings into shape.' She snuggled up closer to Joe, secretly thrilled that he'd referred to her as his "girlfriend". Although what else was he going to call her? His lady companion? Bit on the side? Ageing bimbo? She wasn't in bad nick and while her IQ might not be genius level she considered herself reasonably intelligent.
'What shall we do now?' asked Joe, polishing off the dregs of his brandy. 'Fancy watching a movie or something? I've got Netflix so hopefully there's something on there we both like the look of.'
Emily nodded and reached for the remote control on the table. Watching a movie together seemed such a chilled,coupleything to do. She and Jim had rarely watched anything together, aside from the odd episode ofAntiques Roadshowand his belovedChannel 4 News. On the odd occasion they'd gone to the cinema, he'd inevitably nodded off halfway through. He'd mocked her viewing choices, discounting them as frivolous or banal. She'd secretly got her fix of quirky comedy or tear-jerking romance when he was at work, battling through the ironing pile as she laughed or sobbed. Since he died Emily had feasted on a diet of fun and frothy fare, with no-one to criticise her choices. She and Tabitha had spent many a girly giggly evening gorgingthemselves on snacks and chocolate and arguing over which male lead was the most fanciable. Emily had a bit of a soft spot for Paul Rudd – not a classic matinee idol but undeniably cute – whereas Tabitha favoured Ryan Reynolds but had come to terms with the sad fact that they were destined never to meet.
They settled on a romantic comedy starring some soap actress who'd hit the big time in recent years and an older actor. It wasn't an Oscar contender but it provided some laughs. If Joe had any thoughts on the reversed age gap he chose not to comment. Emily, lying alongside him and happily sharing the odd passionate kiss, felt no need to comment either. She felt utterly at ease, and Joe's body language said he felt the same.
When the final credits rolled, Joe switched off the TV and pulled Emily even closer. 'Without seeming presumptuous, would you be up for a sleep-over?' Emily giggled and pointed to her small overnight bag parked by the door. 'Does that mean we stay up all night doing our hair and nails and consuming our body weight in sweets?' Memories of Tabitha and her friends high on sugar and surrounded by hair straighteners and crimpers came rushing back. All bleary eyed and monosyllabic the next day. Joe raised an eyebrow and went in for a tickle. 'Much as I pride myself on being in touch with my feminine side, I don't think sparkly nail polish and marshmallows are quite my thing? Convulsed with laughter Emily pushed him away and went to fetch her bag. 'I think I'm the presumptuous one. Toothbrush, toiletries and a change of clothes. Do you think I'm utterly shameless?' By way of reply Joe took her bag and grasped her hand, leading her towards the door. 'Absolutely. And utterly irresistible. Let's go and get naked. Unless you brought us matching onesies?'
The morningafter and Emily was feeling absolutely bloody amazing. Like a warrior queen who could slay dragons, rally troops and still have time for a quickie before mounting her trusty steed. Admittedly she felt like she'd been through the wars but then, it had been a physically exhausting night. Joe had youth on his side. Emily realised she might need a few gym sessions to keep up with his stamina. Or some female Viagra. Nonetheless, she felt amazing if a tad saddle sore. Joe was sleeping soundly beside her, his beautiful features relaxed with a look of sheer contentment etched upon them. Emily contemplated grabbing her phone and taking a quick photo for posterity. Posting it on Facebook with the caption:Who's been sleeping in my bed?and a series of grinning emojis. That would certainly trounce some of the mundanities that popped up from friends and acquaintances. Pictures of newly-clipped pooches, smug boastings of their offspring's latest achievements and endless dumb quizzes that were meant to reveal deep and meaningful character traits. Or not. She rarely posted anything on Facebook, and shecertainlywasn't going to share Joe with the salivating masses. But there was one person she really should come clean with. Her daughter. Tabitha. She'd been skirting around the subject, dodging the inevitable showdown. Maybe now was the time to bite the bullet – why was she thinking like a Wild West cowboy? – and confess her sins.
Emily was wriggling out of bed when Joe snared her round the waist and pulled her back again.
'Sneaking off without a good morning kiss? Shame on you, woman.' She pecked him on the lips, conscious that morning breath was a distinct possibility.
'Just needed the loo then I thought I should give Tabitha – my daughter – a call. Just to catch up. The thing is –’
Emily hesitated, unsure how to frame the words. The last thing she wanted was for Joe to think she was embarrassed to be seeing him. Or ashamed. The more time they spent together, the more convinced she was that they'd found that elusive "something". And it wasn't just about the sex, incredible as it was. They had a real connection, never had she felt more at ease with a man. Not that she had a great deal of worldly experience – she could write it down on the back of a postage stamp – but it feltright. Even if a large percentage of the population would take an entirely different view.
'What's the thing?' enquired Joe. Who was now looking extremely sheepish, like a naughty schoolboy who'd been caught copying his neighbour's exam paper. Very cute but definitely wrong-footed.
'Well, I haven't been completely honest with Tabitha. I haven'tlied, as such, I've just been a little economical with the truth. About us, I mean. You and me. Us. And I hate that I'm deceiving her. It's just I don't know how she'll react.'
Emily felt as tongue-tied as a fellow student seated in the headmaster's office with a set of mathematical equations biroed on her forearm. Joe was now looking as if expulsion was on the cards. What was going on?
'Emily, I'm really sorry, but I haven't been completely honest either.' His expression had gone from sheepish to downright guilty as charged. 'The thing is, and I know I should have told you before, I've met Tabitha. And she already knows. About us. Iwasgoing to tell you but there never seemed the right moment. I was hoping she'd call you but clearly that hasn't happened.'
Emily's stomach roiled and she sat back down abruptly, unsure if she was going to throw up or pass out. Tabithaknew?Joe hadmether? When had this all happened? And why was she the last person to know about it? It could only mean one thing. Her daughter had somehow found out the truthand was so horrified and appalled she couldn't bring herself to talk about it. Or – a second, even more stomach-churning thought – she'd met Joe and been attracted to him. After all, they were of the same generation who'd grown up with smartphones and internet and endless TV channels, even if it was still well-nigh impossible to find anything to watch. In her humble opinion, at least. IMHO was what they'd type. Along with LOL, LMFAO and other strange codes that Emily tried to decipher but gave up on. No, that wasn't possible. Them being attracted to each other. Joe wouldn't be sharing her bed right now and Tabitha … Oh God, what was going through her mind?
Joe had taken hold of both her hands and was gazing imploringly at her. Begging her to listen, hear his side of the story. Did she really have a choice?
Some fifteen minutes later and Emily was fully up to speed with the unexpected visit, the case of mistaken identity with his dad and Tabitha's reaction. Or pluralreactions. As Joe told it, she'd been taken aback at first but seemed to come round. Had even kissed Joe on the cheek when she left, rather than slap him in the face and call him all manner of names. Maybe she was saving the name-calling for her mother.
'I feel terrible, Emily. I was so sure Tabitha would be straight on to you when she found out. Then I thought maybe she had been but you were worried about telling me what she said. Although I didn't get the impression that she was shocked. I told her how I felt about you. At least, I said you were special. And youare. Please believe me.'
Emily felt like her head had been removed and replaced backwards. Tabitha had met Joe and – if she accepted his version of events – wasn't about to force her mum to enter a nunnery and take a vow of eternal chastity.And, Joe had just called herspecial. Which no one had ever called her before.Jim had treated her like a pleasant but only mildly interesting sidekick. Handy to have around the home and to adorn his arm at business functions butspecial? That accolade was reserved for his wine collection and assortment of gardening gadgets. There'd been no one before and her handful of dates since his death barely warranted a second thought.
