Page 34 of A Clean Sweep

What did he think? That he'd died and gone to heaven, that's what Tom thought. Where an angel in a figure-hugging dress was about to cook him one of his favourite pasta dishes. No revolting courgetti, just lashings of bacon, cream and parmesan. And who knew what might be for dessert?

It was a ten-minute taxi ride to Kate's place.

They'd both driven to Bar Belle but agreed it was wise to leave their cars in the parking lot where they'd be safe until morning.

Tom stressed that he would call another taxi for home after dinner.

Kate was as inscrutable as the Mona Lisa, simply smiling enigmatically and whipping out her keys.

'It's nothing fancy but it's home. Make yourself comfy and I'll fetch some drinks and start on the food.

Beer or wine?'Tom opted for the latter and she reappeared with a chilled bottle of Chablis and two glasses.

Duly poured she returned to the kitchen whilst Tom scanned his surroundings.

Small but chic, the living space was dominated by a curved screen TV and some impressive-looking speakers.

He checked out her book collection. A hotchpotch of chick lit, crime thrillers and the odd weighty tome on such subjects as aromatherapy and homeopathy.

He plonked himself down on a shabby but welcomingly squishy sofa and took a gulp of wine.

Meanwhile the delicious aroma of sizzling meat permeated the air and his stomach gave a rumble of anticipation.

Hearing the sounds of Kate clattering around in the kitchen he whipped out his phone and fired off a quick text to Tabitha.

Sofa at Clive's looks likely, beer flowing like lava. Soz xx

Maybe he was being presumptuous and there'd be nothing more on the menu than a nice meal. In which case, he'd head home where Tabitha would probably be snoring gently, and tell her that he'd decided against another night tossing and turning on Clive's hideously lumpy couch.

Kate's flat had no dining area so they ate in the kitchen.

It was a perfectly pleasant Ikea number with white glossy cabinets and dark wood round table above which hung a funky seventies-style light.

It was on a dimmer and she'd turned it down low, giving the room an intimate feel.

The carbonara was delicious and the conversation relaxed and easy.

They shared the bottle of wine, Kate getting gigglier as he topped up her glass.

'Ooh, I'm feeling a wee bit tipsy,' she said, lifting her hair from her neck and effortlessly twirling it upwards and securing it with a chopstick she grabbed from a drawer.

With tendrils hanging loose on each side she looked even more delectable.

Almost Oriental. All she needed was that sexy cheongsam and…

Hang on, she was getting really close now, her face inches from his …

'You've got some sauce on your chin. Here, let me wipe it.

' Brandishing her napkin – OK, piece of kitchen roll – she cleaned off the offending blob.

Damn, for a minute there he'd thought she was going to …

aah, now she was. Kissing him, that is.

Those full, pouty lips moving in harmony with his, those slender arms snaking their way around his neck.

Dreams really do come true. It looked like there'd be no way he was heading home tonight.

Except— a dark little voice in his head reminded him that, while Kate was no longer attached, he most certainly was.

And had neglected to mention that fact when he'd had the chance earlier.

The sole reason for the omission was he'd hoped something might happen between them.

Revealing he was shacked up with someone would have killed their fledgling romance stone dead.

What did he do now? Carry on and confess at some later date?

Make some excuse to leave now, dump Tabitha, then rush back as soon as possible to take things to the next level?

Nope, that wasn't a very noble thing to do.

If – or rather – when he broke the news to his girlfriend that he wanted out he owed her more than a garbled explanation and then legged it through the door.

Which left him with really only one other option. Bugger.

'Kate? Sorry, can we just pause for a minute?' He regretfully removed his lips and disengaged himself from her embrace. Her face was flushed and her eyes sparkled with desire. Tom suspected it wouldn't take long for the flush to change to red-hot anger and the sparkle to be replaced by revulsion.

'What's the matter, Tom? I thought you wanted this too. I knew there were sparks between us as soon as we met. Is it because you haven't known me long enough? Honestly, I don't normally leap in on the first date but it just felt right .'

It certainly did, Tom thought sadly. And now I'm going to make it the complete opposite. 'Listen, I wasn't completely honest with you early. I'm truly sorry about that. The thing is, I have a girlfriend. We live together. Have done for a while.'

Kate looked shocked but thankfully didn't pick up the remains of the carbonara and dump them on his head. She simply took a small sip of wine and nodded for him to continue.

'It's going to sound like a total cliché but things haven't been great between us recently.

We both know it but we've been tiptoeing around it, not talked about it.

Stupid, I know, but I guess neither of us was brave enough to put it into words.

Anyway, I know I've screwed things up with you now.

I just couldn't sleep with you knowing that I lied and equally I need to break up with my girlfriend.

It's not fair to drag things out. Especially when I've met someone like you who makes me feel so amazing and alive. I'm so, so sorry.'

Tom got up to leave. Kate got up too, no doubt to shove him out the door and deadbolt it behind him. Instead, she took his hands in hers and kissed him lightly on the lips. OK, that was so not what he was expecting. A hard slap or a nifty right-hook, perhaps.

'I think you've just been incredibly brave, Tom.

Fine, maybe you should have said something before but I do understand.

We were getting on so well. I probably wouldn't have invited you back here if I'd known but if you're really telling the truth about your relationship being on the rocks …’ Tom nodded furiously like a demented dashboard toy, 'then I believe you.

My fiancé was a first-class prick but not all men are like him.

My gut feeling tells me you're not. I think you're a kind-hearted, considerate and very attractive man who I'd like to get to know better. Much better.'

There were days when Tom thought that somebody up there didn't like him.

Today wasn't one of them. He felt like he'd just scored the winning goal in the cup final, instead of being booed for missing a penalty.

If Jeremy Clarkson himself had appeared in a puff of smoke – or exhaust fumes – and offered him the keys to a new Ferrari he could not have felt more elated.

'I promise you Kate, as soon as I get the chance I'll tell Tabitha – sorry, that's her name – that it's over. Hand on heart. Thank you for believing me. And thank you for a wonderful evening. Could we see each other again soon? Very soon, please? '

Kate crinkled her perfect little nose and gave him a quizzical look.

'Well, I was rather hoping you'd stay. Unless that would cause a problem at home? No? After all, the night's still young and I'm not the slightest bit sleepy. And, as I said, I want to get to know you. All of you.'

As she went in for another killer kiss, Tom told the annoying little voice in his head to go stuff itself. Tonight was filled with magic and the promise of rafter-raising sex. Tomorrow could bloody well wait.