I had known Kerry for a number of years, in fact, she had gone to school with my daughter and was now in her early twenties. I had always liked her. She was a very matter-of-fact girl, capable and confident so it was a surprise to me when she became involved with a man ten years her senior. I knew him as well - and liked him, but he had settled for the bachelor life and drank fairly heavily. Nevertheless, Kerry's influence on him had been dramatic and in no time they moved in together and settled into the ways of an old married couple. My daughter saw a great deal of them and kept me well informed as to how they were getting on.
It was after they had been together for about two years that they married and Kerry made no secret that marriage was the first step on the road to motherhood - especially after one of their close friends produced an adorable baby girl.
The months dragged on without any sign of a child and then I heard rumblings about her husband's test results and how difficult it was going to be for her to conceive. It was gossip and I thought nothing of it until one afternoon in June as I worked alone in my office at home, that the doorbell rang. I usually took no notice of either the domestic phone or the doorbell when I was working but I needed to stretch my legs so I answered it.
It was Kerry. She had arranged with my daughter to return a video, which she then handed to me.
"I was just making a coffee," I lied," would you like a cup?"
"I don't have to be at work until four so I will, if that's alright."
I stood aside and let her bounce into the house (Kerry was full of bounce) and take a seat in kitchen. I switched on the kettle and leaned against the adjacent kitchen unit.
"How's married life treating you then?" I asked, not having seen her since her wedding day.
"Oh, it's OK,"
"Only OK?" I teased.
"Well, I suppose Sue's told you that we are having problems having a family. Colin has a very low sperm count."
"That doesn't mean that it won't happen," I comforted.
"Pretty unlikely though." The smile had gone and she looked glum.
"Have you thought of getting medical help?"
"Colin is dead against it. He says if it doesn't happen naturally then it's not to be."
"It's a bit hard on you though, isn't it Kerry."
"Oh, I'd love a baby, Peter. I really would. In fact, it would serve Colin right if I went out and found someone to give me one."
"You don't mean that do you, Kerry? It would crucify him if he found out."
A long silence punctuated our discussion before she said.
"Why would he have to know?"
I could see that Kerry was voicing what, for a long time, had only been a thought incubating in her mind.
"Come on, Kerry, unless you went away for a weekend and picked up a complete stranger, it would get out. You couldn't trust anyone else around here to keep quiet about it. And if you picked up a stranger, goodness knows what else he might give you?"
"True," she said, then countered as if she had already considered this argument, "unless it was someone with more to lose than gain. Someone who no longer needed to brag to anyone about his conquests - say?"
"But every young man likes to do that and even those that wouldn't brag might well get possessive of the baby when it arrived. Surely, you wouldn't risk it, would you?"
She pouted and I added, "So much for a surrogate father then."
"It doesn't seem much to ask," she persisted coyly, " just a quick thirty second 'service' and my life would be changed for ever."
"
Now there's a naughty though to conjure with. Surely to god she wasn't hinting that I 'service' her was she?
" The idea tore through my mind like a red hot bolt of lightning.
"You sound desperate, Kerry,"
"I think I am Peter," she sighed with a voice heavy with melancholy.
Silence fell whilst we waited for the kettle to boil and when it did, I made the coffee, served a cup to each of us and sat at the table facing her, quietly sipping the hot liquid.
I hadn't really noticed in the past, but she was a pretty young women in a plain sort of way. She had a face with everything in the right place, thick curly dark hair and a slim figure with well-developed breasts. The reason she was not a siren was that she chose not to be. She wore very little makeup and dressed modestly - the sort of women that, I imagine, a vicar would have been pleased to present her as his wife.
More seconds passed without conversation as we drank our coffee, each of us deep in our own thoughts until she broke the silence with a comment to give away what she had clearly being thinking about.
"Did Wendy have any trouble conceiving your two?" she asked overtly.
"Don't ask me. We still don't know where Paul came from and Sue was conceived on a quiet August afternoon, on the sofa, on a day Wendy decided that Paul needed a sister. I just supplied the sperm-on-demand, so-to-speak."
"You sound pretty fertile then?" she said, giving me a knowing look.
It had to be said - both of us were beating about the bush.
"Kerry, forgive me if I am reading this conversation all wrong, but are you suggesting that I 'help' you overcome your problem?"
