Driving Big Davie (Dan Starkey) Read Free Page A

past. I had to do something. I had to do something quick. He was a big fella, six foot at least, squarely built. I hissed across at him, 'Hey, mate, c'mere a minute.'
    He turned towards me. Close-cropped hair and small, inquisitive eyes. He came over.
    'Listen,' I began, not really sure where I was going.' I'm in a bit of a hole. I'm . . . look, my son died . . . we're desperate to have another kid. We came here to get help . . . You know what this room is? The quiet room. You know what the quiet room is — of course you do. I've . . . Christ, look, mate I've had a bit of an accident, and I can't go back there and say . . . like, what do you say? I just can't go back and look like a total eejit. I was like wondering . . . do you know where I'm going? Do you understand what I'm saying?'
    'No,' he said.
    'Look, it's quite simple. I need you . . . I'd like you . . . Look, mate, no strings attached, I know it's kind of odd, I'm not a weirdo, I'm just really stuck. I'm too old for this, I can't just produce it like . . . I really need some help.'
    'What sort of help?'
    'I need you to come in here and wank into a cup.'
    His eyes widened slightly, then narrowed again. I could almost hear the clogs turning in his brain. Or perhaps cogs. He glanced up and down the corridor, then moved slightly closer.
    'What sort of a cup?'
    'What?'
    'What sort of a cup do you want me to wank into?'
    'What do you mean? What the fuck does it matter?'
    'You mean like a big cup, like a pint glass, or a wee one, like an egg cup?'
    'What the fuck does it matter?!'
    'I'd just like to know.'
    'I'm inviting you in here to masturbate and you're worried about what sort of a cup you'll have to wank into? What sort of a fucking mental are you?'
    'Please yourself, mate,' he said, and started to turn away.
    'No! I'm sorry. I'm sorry.' He stopped.' Look — okay. Okay — it's a small plastic cup. Please. This is so important.'
    He turned back.' How much?'
    'How much? How the fuck do I know. A cupful? Half a cup?'
    'No — I mean how much are you paying?'
    'Paying?'
    'I'm not going in there to wank into a cup for nothing.'
    'Well — fuck, how much do you want?'
    'A hundred.'
    'Quid?'
    'Yes.'
    'Okay. All right. That seems fair.' I took out my wallet. Luckily, and rarely, I had enough.' Fifty now, and fifty when you deliver.'
    'A hundred now.'
    'What if you don't deliver?'
    I'll work at it until I do.'
    I looked at my watch. Forty-four minutes.
    'All right — deal. Come on.'
    I ushered him into the room. I showed him the bathroom and I picked up the porn mags.' Here,' I said, 'this might help.'
    He held up a hand to refuse them.' That's not what I'm into.'
    I nodded. He closed the door. He locked it. I gave him two minutes.
    'Everything okay?' I said.
    'Yes.'
    'Are you going to be long?'
    'Not if you shut up.'
    'Okay. Fine. I'll . . . just sit over here.'
    It would be okay, everything would be okay. I could explain it away to Trish. I was nervous. The antiseptic surroundings of the hospital. She would somehow perceive it to be a compliment to her that I was unable to do it without her being with me. It was only a sample they were looking for. It wasn't as if they were going to match it up with Patricia's eggs. It was just to check the sperm count. He would have a fine and healthy sperm count. It wasn't like he was some albino dwarf. He was a strapping big guy with normal sperm.
    What was I even thinking of?
    Christ.
    I should crack the door open and toss him out of there for being such a pervert.
    What sort of a guy goes into a room and wanks for money?
    And what sort of a guy asks him to?
    I buried my head in my hands.
    From inside the bathroom, he said, 'Oh baby.'
    I blushed. I really blushed.
    He said, 'Oh, baby . . .'
    I cleared my throat.
    He said, 'Give it to me.'
    Then he cranked up the volume, 'give it to me!' he bellowed.
    Christ.
    And then my mobile phone rang.
    I pulled it out, fearing it was Trish. But I didn't recognise the number. I pressed the button.