Page 28 of A Clean Sweep

Taking a break before dessert they chatted easily, 'Hunting High and Low' playing away at low volume. Meryl filled him in on the latest goings on in the shop, including a funny episode the day before.

‘So, I'd just arranged a display of cute baby bibs that had arrived earlier in the week.

You know the kind of thing. Well, maybe you don't but anyway… they’ve got silly sayings on th em.

Things like 'Feed me or nobody sleeps tonight' and 'Someone put my cape on backwards'.

Not something I'd usually stock but I've had quite a few young mums coming in recently and thought they'd sell well.’

Miroslaw had reached across the table and was stroking her hand in a rather seductive fashion. She felt her train of thought slip away as his thumb caressed her palm, fingers entwining hers. Hand sex , she mused. OK, on with the story.

‘Well, the next thing is this little old lady comes in and heads straight for the bib display.

She must have been at least eighty. She's flipping through them, chuckling away to herself.

I figure she's looking for a present for someone, maybe a great grandchild? Finally, she takes one and brings it to the counter. “I drink till I pass out”, it says. She pays, I ask if she wants it gift wrapped, and she shakes her head.’

‘No need, love. It's for my Albert. I'm that fed up with him dribbling half his dinner down his front of an evening. Costs me a fortune in Vanish, he does! This should do the trick.’ ‘And off she trotted, pledging to return for a few more soon. Poor man!’

Miroslaw was smiling, his fingers now wandering up her arm and fondling it through her sleeve. Meryl felt little bubbles of excitement frothing up inside her. It looked like passion could very well be on the cards.

‘Dessert? I picked up a very nice tarte citron. Cheating again, I know but—’ She was silenced as Miroslaw pressed a finger to her lips before drawing it slowly down her chin and towards her chest.

‘I only want you, my beautiful Meryl. Right now.’

Straight to the point then. They rose to their feet as one, Miroslaw drawing her into his arms and kissing her with an intensity that literally took her breath away.

With lips firmly locked he steered her in the direction of the bedroom and the bed itself.

Her head was slightly spinning as he perched her on the edge and began removing her top.

She lay down and took a few deep breaths as he moved on to her waistband, unhooking the button and guiding her trousers southwards.

Then proceeded to kiss her from top to toe, still fully clothed himself.

Should she start undressing him too? Not that he was giving her much of a chance, the weight of his body pinning her to the duvet.

‘You are so perfect, just like I imagined,’ he whispered, fingers now playing with the edges of her bra.

Hardly, thought Meryl, who was trying simultaneously to suck in her stomach and get some much-needed air into her lungs.

Which was well-nigh impossible as he'd resumed full-on snogging interspersed with groans of pleasure and mutterings of ‘Oh, Meryl’.

Ah well, the tarte would still taste good tomorrow, she figured, then mentally rebuked herself for thinking such a thing when she was minutes away from her first sexual encounter in ages.

‘Do you want me too?’ Miroslaw murmured, his hands creeping round her back in pursuit of her bra clasp.

She was about to reply in the affirmative when suddenly he stopped.

Oh help, don't say she'd put on the wrong one!

She had a couple of bras with so many hooks and eyes they would challenge Houdini himself.

Miroslaw was now sitting bolt upright, his face turned away from Meryl. She sat up too and touched his cheek, shocked to see tears glittering in his eyes when he finally looked at her.

‘What's the matter? Miroslaw, have I done something wrong? Of course I want you too, you must know that.’ Meryl felt herself trembling both with cold and nerves. She took a few steps to the door and grabbed her dressing gown before sitting down again.

He didn't reply for what seemed an eternity but had taken hold of her hand. Finally, he spoke; his voice laced with regret and sadness.

‘It's not you, it's me. I am so sorry, Meryl. I so wanted this night to be perfect. You are perfect but I have something on my mind and it is troubling me greatly.’ He let out an enormous sigh and looked so forlorn that Meryl pulled him into a hug.

‘Whatever it is you can tell me. Maybe I can help? Please, Miroslaw. I don't know if you know the expression “a problem shared is a problem halved” but I really believe it's true.’ She waited, he sighed again and then he poured out his heart to her.

‘Because these bastards – please excuse my language – have not made payment to me I have run into a little cash flow problem. Business has always been good but I know I have not always been the best at pursuing people who owe me money. And now I owe others money and they will not be – how do you say? – as accommodating as me.’

Over coffee and a slice of tarte citron Miroslaw completed his tale of woe. Meryl felt a mixture of anger and sadness as he explained how he'd built up his business from nothing but could end up losing it all.

A short while later he left, apologising profusely for spoiling the evening – which Meryl assured him wasn't the case – and promising to see her the next day when he returned for his car. With one last, lingering kiss he was gone in a taxi she'd insisted on calling for him.

Sitting in the half-light of the lounge with a second slice of tarte and a small glass of white Meryl pondered the situation.

He hadn't stated how much money was involved and she hadn't liked to ask.

But she had been building up a rainy-day fund over the years which now amounted to a not insubstantial sum.

Should she offer to help? Would he even accept it ?

Time for bed she decided, scooping up the last crumbs from her plate.

She hadn't expected to be sleeping alone – or even sleeping at all – but she needed time to gather her thoughts.

They could talk again tomorrow and hopefully she could find a way to ease his situation.

First Susan, now Miroslaw. It had been an exhausting day.