Being a popular labour MP in Salford, Janet was a natural politician both in her career and in her family life. She could negotiate, compromise and debate her way to hell (most recently referred to as moss side) and back. That was why it was still a mystery that even with all these skills at her disposal, she was still utterly hopeless when it came to men and relationships. Taking a leap of faith along with a swift shove of encouragement from Mandy, her older, married, sister, she agreed to go on a date with Darren, an ex- goalkeeper turned supermarket manager of whom she had met on an online dating service. Usually being known as one of the most direct, self-assured people in the room, Janet’s unforgiving nerves for the upcoming date surprised even herself. It was a new ball game this whole internet thing she thought, especially with never having met this Darren person before. After all there is no diplomatic way of telling someone that they have bad body odour and that their evening together should be immediately terminated. No, she would have to sit there looking all content no doubt while he withered on about his failed football career and torturous ex-wife, only for him to scarper at the end of the evening when she happened to mention that she already had a son. With a gulp of liquid encouragement or three, Janet made her way to the Eccles multi-plex where Daren would hopefully be already waiting outside the dinning extravaganza they had both agreed on, Chiquitos. Stomach clenched expecting the worst, she was pleasantly surprised to actually recognise the man waiting outside the restaurant from the photograph on his profile, something she immediately took as a good sign. Janet also took comfort in the fact that there would be photographic evidence available if their evening together should go terribly wrong, you never know she thought, chuckling to herself at her evident optimism. Although whilst trying to find a parking space in the typically overcrowded car-park, Janet couldn’t help but to soften slightly towards Darren, as when every time she glanced over at his pacing and awkward attempts to lean against a light post, it became more and more obvious that he was just as nervous as she was. Pondering a moment in the car, bracing herself to make a confident yet subtle entrance, she studied his features. A distinctive break on the nose which she immediately took to be war wounds from his days as an armature goalkeeper and a knock above his left eye, perhaps was from his time in the TA in his twenties, working for the council had its advantages recently, well she had to do her research didn’t she. He had kind green eyes, she thought almost feeling guilty for writing him off so soon. With one last comb of her fringe in the rear view mirror, she tried to stifle her rising hopes, after all this wouldn’t be the first time she had been fooled by appearance. “What the hell”, she uncharacteristically said out loud and, with a deep breath, left the fortress of the parking bay.
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