Emma coughed as the door opened, unleashing a wave of aftershave into her nostrils and throat.
‘Too much?’ Darren said.
‘Little bit,’ Emma smiled, composing herself. She looked up at Darren who was clearly keen to make an impression. He was wearing a freshly ironed pink shirt with smart black jeans and a pair of shoes that Emma was quite sure had only just been taken out of the box. Next to him, Emma felt quite a mess, having come from next door with a hoody and shorts combination.
‘Who’s the lucky lady?’ Emma asked.
Darren took out his phone and brought up a picture of dating profile of someone called “Harriet, 24”.
‘Isn’t she like half your age?’
Darren laughed, shaking his head and putting his phone away. ‘I’m only 40, I’m not dead yet. And besides, a lot of girls like older men, you know.’
‘More older men like young girls,’ Emma smiled, walking past Darren into his house. ‘You don’t want to be late.’
‘The kids are already in bed, help yourself to whatever you like. Thank you.’
‘And if you bring your date home should I just sneak out the back?’