before I did. And my first time was to Malaya in uniform. No holiday, that.
We passed by Sydney University and Geoff gave it a brief look.
‘Is that where you’re studying?’
‘Yep. Third year.’
‘Like it?’
‘Some of it. The practical stuffs okay, the theory’s a bit of a drag. I don’t mind taking a break for a semester.’
‘How d’you get on for money?’
‘Mum pays the fees and… shit, I forgot. I’ve got a part-time job in the Vet school. Cleaning up and that. I’ll have to ditch it.’
‘No, you won’t. I’ll go along with this arrangement but I won’t need you twenty-four hours a day. What is it, night work?’
‘Yeah, sort of. It’s pretty flexible. As long as I put in the hours I can do it pretty well any time. You sure about that? I don’t want to bludge off Mum any more than I do already.’
‘I’m sure. Who says you’re bludging?’
His driving faltered for the first time. He had to brake sharply to avoid a late lane-changer. He hit the horn angrily. ‘Fuckin’ Annie does.’
I remembered the conflicts I used to have with Eve over almost everything. I was beginning to like this kid. ‘Take it easy,’ I said. ‘We want to get there in one piece.’
‘Sorry, Cliff. What’s going to happen next?’
I cleared my throat and unshipped my mobile. ‘I’m going to pretend to be impotent and you’re going to crack a computer system. Okay?’
13
The clinic was housed in one of those big Paddington terraces in a street that seemed to have speed humps every fifty metres. The house was painted white and its iron lace was black. The fence was in good repair and the narrow front garden was neat. The contrast with my place in Glebe couldn’t have been more marked. A discreet brass plaque by the gate indicated professional activities went on here but was vague about the details. I’d told Geoff how I hoped things would go and what he was to do if they did.
‘That’s illegal,’ he said.
‘So’s kidnapping.’
‘We don’t know that’s happened or anything like it.’
‘Well, let’s try and find out what has happened.’
We mounted the steps to the porch and I pressed the buzzer. The door opened and we went into the standard hallway that had been blocked off before the stairs. The block steered you into the front room where there were chairs, a table with magazines and a receptionist behind a desk. She wore a version of a nurse’s uniform and was middle-aged and comfortable looking.
‘Can I help you?’
‘My name’s Hardy. I rang a little while ago for an appointment.’
‘Ah, yes, Mr Hardy. And this is…?’
‘Geoff. My son. He’s here to lend me moral support. I’m a bit anxious about this.’
‘How nice,’ she said. ‘There’s certainly no need to be anxious. If Geoff can just wait here. I’ll get some details from you. I take it you’re in a health fund.’
I said I was and gave her the details.
‘Fine. I’ll take you through to the patients’ waiting room and see how long until Dr Pradesh can see you.’
I nodded to Geoff and let her lead me away, moving as slowly as I could. We went through a passage that had been created by partitions to a small room at the back of the house, one of three. There had been a lot of dividing of space back here.
‘Please wait here, Mr Hardy. I’ll have to ask you not to leave the room until you are called for.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Our patients demand and expect privacy. I’m sure you understand.’
‘Of course.’ I tried to look as if I’d be worried that someone would see me there. Come to think of it, if I was impotent, I would be.
I delayed her for as long as I could with a few questions but she was obviously keen to get back to her station. The magazines were soft-core pornography and there was a stack of videos of the same kind on a shelf. Good healthy in-out, in-out stuff. I leafed through, admiring the supple bodies and feeling distinct stirrings. I had an image of Annette doing it in her bride’s outfit with a man in a dinner jacket. I was smiling when the doctor opened the door.
‘Mr Hardy? Would you come this way, please.’
He was Indian or Pakistani; small, neat, with a winning smile. We went into his surgery and assumed the traditional postures – him behind his desk, me in front. Doctor and patient, god and non-god.
‘You are having trouble with your erections? Is that achieving or sustaining?’
‘Both.’
‘I see.’ He made a note. ‘Otherwise you are in good health? You look fit.’
‘Fit enough,’ I said. ‘I’ve got a touch of sugar. Controlled by diet.’
Another note. ‘Heart? Kidneys?’
‘Recently checked and okay.’
‘Do you smoke?’
I shook my head.
‘Drink?’
‘Moderately,’ I said, giving myself a fair bit of latitude.
He took down the details of my age, medical history and occupation which I gave as ‘security officer’. I gave him the name of my doctor, Ian Sangster, who’d confirm any lie I told. I claimed to have a partner who was aware of the steps I was taking.
He gave me a fairly thorough examination, paying particular attention to my eyes. Then he reached into his desk for a pair of surgical gloves. ‘Please remove your jacket and lower your trousers and underwear so that I may make an examination.’
I did and he did. He examined my genitals and probed my prostate. I stood and tried to think that at least I was getting paid for it.
‘Thank you. Please sit on the examination table.’
He stripped off the gloves and dumped them in a bin. Then he put on another pair and began fiddling with a bottle, a syringe and a plastic device.
I was alarmed. ‘What the hell is that for? Excuse me, doctor, but I thought… Viagra.’
‘Indicated in some cases, not in yours. One of the side-effects of Viagra is interference with the eyesight. Unimportant mostly, but with that old damage to your eye, not to be risked.’
‘I see.’
‘You should not worry. The therapy simply involves injecting the penis with a combination of substances including prostaglandin. These permit the blood to flow past any blockages or narrownesses and facilitate an erection. The device is spring-loaded and enables you to do the injection without discomfort or pain. What I am going to do now is give you a tiny dose to check your reaction. Both my examination and your medical history suggest that you are a suitable subject for this therapy. Do you wish to proceed?’
Reluctant wasn’t the word, but I nodded. He showed me how to use the injection kit. A click, a slight sting and it was done.
‘I will now ask Mrs Merryweather to prepare the waiting room where you can watch a video for a few moments. Then I can check the results.’
‘Okay,’ I said. I was thinking: Fine, more time for Geoff to do his stuff.
