Page 50 of A Clean Sweep

The morning after 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 she certainly wasn'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 felt right .

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't lied , 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. I was going 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.

Tabitha knew? Joe had met her? 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 truth and 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 plural reactions . 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 you are . 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 her special . 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 but special ?

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.

Aware that Joe was still gripping her hands and awaiting a response, Emily made a snap decision.

'I'm going to call her now. Tell her I know she knows . Ask her why she didn't tell me she knew. I'll deal with you later.' Emily fixed Joe with her best school mistress glare. He pouted back, still naughty schoolboy but facing detention rather than expulsion.

'Tabitha? It's mum. And a not-very-happy mum. Just when were you planning to tell me?'