It was Di’s friend Marnie who introduced her to her colleague, Rupert. ‘Oh you’ll love him,’ Marnie enthused. 'He actually cooks. He cleans his house. It’s spotless. I know your ex was a total slob, but not dear sweet Rupert. He works so hard at the company, not like your lazy ex. Rupert will rise to the top, take my word for it. If I was twenty years younger…’
After much persuasion, Di agreed to Marnie setting up a date for her to meet Rupert in a fancy restaurant. At the restaurant, a tall, handsome man in a blue suit and matching silk tie stood up from a table, waved to Marnie and walked over to where she and Di were standing. Marnie introduced them. Rupert shook hands and gave a little bow. So far so good, Di thought as they turned to wave goodbye to Marnie. Rupert then escorted her to the table he’d booked and pulled out a chair, motioning Di to sit. He handed her a menu.
While they ate, Rupert talked about his job, but asked Di no questions. He brushed off her questions about his family and past girlfriends and quickly returned to the day-to-day details of his job. When he finally paused for breath she asked him what hobbies he had. Rupert looked stunned. ‘Hobbies?’ he said. ‘No time for that,’ and returned to telling her about his latest meeting with important overseas clients. Di stifled a yawn, glanced at her watch and wondered how quickly she could make an escape. Then Rupert surprised her by inviting her back to his house for coffee.
As soon as she stepped inside Rupert’s front door Di could see that Marnie hadn’t been exaggerating. Spotless wooden floors. Shiny white leather furniture. White curtains. White walls. Crisp white gleaming kitchen bench. Healthy pot plants in every corner. Rupert spent a long time preparing their coffee and biscuits. When he handed her a plate and offered the biscuits she said, ‘Did you bake these?’
‘Oh yes,’ he replied. ‘I never buy biscuits. You don’t know whose hands have touched them.’
Di, who never baked, had to admit to herself that the biscuits were perfect. Crunchy, not too much sugar. As they drank the coffee Di glanced at the floor to ceiling bookshelf , noticed the books were all non-fiction with many titles about black holes, astronomy, and global warming. ‘I see you’re a great reader,’ she said. ‘Me too. I love a good romance novel.’
Rupert gave a half smile. ‘Oh I don’t read fiction. The world is interesting enough without reading invented tales.’ He started talking about his job again.
In an effort to change the subject Marnie interrupted, ‘Can I borrow a couple of your books? What would you recommend?’
Rupert paused mid-sentence and shook his head. ‘Sorry. I never lend my books, but I’ll write down some authors you can read if you like.’
‘Which library do you use?’
He glanced at his shelves. ‘I don’t use the library. You never know whose hands have been on the books.’
He looked at the clock on the wall. Di wondered if this was a preface to him asking her to stay the night. But what he said was, ‘Ah well. It’s 10.00 pm. I have to be up early in the morning so we’ll say goodnight.’ He wrote some titles on a piece of paper and handed it to her. ‘The local bookshop has these in stock. I’ll be interested to know what you think of them, next time we meet. I’d like to come over to your house next time. Give me a ring.’
Di stood, took the paper from his hand, put on her jacket and leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. He took a quick step backwards, smiled and said, ‘Watch your step when I open the front door. Those steps are a bit steep.’
He listened for the sound of Di’s car accelerating out of his drive then took a neatly folded cloth from his duster drawer. He pulled on a pair of rubber gloves, filled the sink with hot soapy water and rinsed out his cloth. He then washed down every surface in the room. Thank God she hadn’t used the bathroom, he thought, so there was just the living room and kitchen to clean and disinfect. She hadn’t touched anything in the kitchen, but he knew that germs travelled on breath. Still, she was very pretty, he reflected, and seemed to have a nice, quiet personality, just as Marnie had described her. A modest sort of person too. Not like those loud obnoxious women you saw walking around town, flaunting themselves with their fat thighs and their boobs hanging out.
At Di’s next catch-up with Marnie, Di told her that Rupert was not what she was looking for. ‘Too work-obsessed. Probably a bit OCD.’
‘Yeah. Maybe. A bit,’ Marnie conceded. ‘But it’s not as if handsome, single, tidy, career-minded men on great salaries are exactly thick on the ground,’ she said. ‘Look, give him another chance. Just tidy your house up before he comes over and you’ll be fine. Trust me, you’re exactly what he needs.’
That evening, Di rang Rupert and invited him to her house for dinner the following weekend. When she put the phone down, she glanced around her living room. Why did Marnie tell her to tidy it, she wondered. Since her slob of an ex had moved out it stayed tidy enough.
Before heading to Di’s, Rupert dressed carefully, splashed on some expensive aftershave and hid a small bottle of disinfectant in his pocket. On the drive over he wondered if she had bought the books he’d recommended. Perhaps he could wean her off romance novels.
He parked his car outside Di’s house, walked up the path, noting the weedy garden and long grass, and rang the doorbell. There was an explosion of barking. Oh God! She hadn’t mentioned a dog. He turned back towards his car, but Di’s door opened. A black Labrador hurtled through it like a bat out of hell, barking its head off. Di called it back and ushered Rupert through the door.
‘Spick can be a bit boisterous, but he’s such a loving wee beastie,’ she laughed. ‘Sit, Spick. Sit!’
Rupert edged past the panting dog with its disgusting slobbery tongue hanging out. Di lifted a white cat off a chair. ‘Off you come, Span,’ she grinned and put the cat next to the dog on the hearthrug and motioned to Rupert to sit in the chair it had vacated.
Rupert lowered himself onto the cushion, trying not to think about the cat hairs on his trousers that he’d just collected from the dry cleaners. So she called her animals Spick and Span? He glanced at the grubby carpet, the chewed dog toys in the corner, the newspapers scattered over the chairs, the smeared windows. While Di clattered around in the kitchen taking things out of the oven, the Labrador stood up, wandered over to where Rupert was sitting, stuck its head in Rupert’s groin then licked his hand. The cat jumped on his knee shedding white hairs and started purring. Rupert felt the blood draining from his head. In a voice that was more of a squeak, he asked Di where the bathroom was.
In the bathroom he scrubbed his hands, trying not to look at the slivers of used soap in the washbasin, the hairbrush full of hair, the worn down toothbrush, the damp towel.
When he emerged, the food was on the table. Oh my God! Hadn’t she picked up that he was a vegetarian when they ate at the restaurant? He politely moved the beef to one side of his plate and speared a carrot. The dog came up to the table and stared at him.
‘Just give him a bit of your meat,’ Di said. ‘He’ll love you for it.’
Rupert looked at the dog’s slobbery tongue and shook his head. ‘Not really a dog person.’
Di cut a piece off her own meat and handed it to the dog. He licked her hand then lay down at the foot of the table and chomped on it. Di carried on eating, evidently oblivious to the slobber on her hand and rattled on about a dog show she was going to at the weekend.
When they finished eating dinner and drunk their coffee, Di looked at him and opened her mouth to say something. Oh my God! Was she going to ask him to go to the dog show with her? Rupert quickly stood up. ‘Early day, tomorrow.’ He grabbed his jacket and made a dash for the door.
Di listened to his car accelerating down the road. She knelt on the floor and put her arms around the dog. ‘Don’t worry, Spick, he won’t be back. We made sure of that, didn’t we?’ she whispered.
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