asked Phil later. Nothing at all, mate, said Phil.
Michael explained that his maternal grandparents had been killed in a train crash in India. ‘They liked to travel,’ he said, noting the approving nods. His father’s father had died recently, at the age of seventy-five. ‘Lung cancer. He was a smoker.’
‘You don’t smoke, do you? We don’t want a smoker.’
Michael told his first lie. ‘No. Never seen the sense in it,’ he replied, shaking his head. ‘What with Grandad and all.’
‘Do your parents keep good health? No chronic illnesses or allergies?’
The second lie was easy. Phil had coached him on this point. With job interviews, you tell ’em what they want to hear. ‘Nope. Both disgustingly healthy.’ His mother’s asthma was hardly worth mentioning, so he didn’t.
‘Thank you, Mr Clancy. We’ll be in touch in the next few days.’
That night, Michael and Phil speculated over a bottle of rough red. Two bottles, in fact. The best theory they could come up with was that he was to be part of some sort of scientific experiment.
‘No, it makes sense, mate,’ Phil argued. They had already agreed that this was the best explanation, but Phil had reached the stage of drunkenness where he sensed that the brilliance of his logic was best demonstrated by reiteration. He counted off on his fingers. ‘You have to agree, mate: one, there’s the health questions, b, there’s the academic stuff, and four, there’s the . . .
other stuff.’
‘You’re so right, mate.’
Three days later a call came from Linsey. ‘You are the successful candidate,’ she announced. ‘Can you come and see us again? We have a proposition to put to you.’
‘Cool. They’re going to proposition you,’ Phil chortled gleefully.
‘I’d better wear my red shirt then,’ said Michael. ‘They might as well know what they’re getting.’
As before, Linsey answered the door. This time she took him straight into the dining room, where Amy was sitting with a third woman.
Linsey nodded in her direction. ‘Our lawyer, Sally Grainger. Sally, this is Michael Clancy.’
‘Lawyer?’ Michael felt at a distinct disadvantage.
Sally, plump and middle-aged, looked more like his Aunty Joan than a lawyer. To complete the impression, she smiled reassuringly, her small eyes almost disappearing as she squinted at him through her reading glasses. ‘Don’t worry, Michael. You can certainly have your own lawyer. In fact, I strongly advise that you do.’
‘We’ll pay, of course,’ said Amy hastily. ‘All expenses will be paid.’ Her smile was accompanied by the most charming of dimples, and Michael, who had half-risen from his seat, sat down abruptly.
‘I think it’s time you told me what this is all about.’ He frowned, hoping he sounded more resolute than he felt.
Sally and Amy smiled. Linsey tapped impatient fingers on the table. ‘Sally? It’s best you explain as we agreed.’
‘I hope you understand that what I’m about to tell you is strictly confidential.’
Michael nodded, but this clearly wasn’t enough.
‘I must have your word. This will be a verbal contract until the formal one is signed.’
‘You can trust me,’ he replied. ‘I give you my word.’ And he meant it. Michael Clancy didn’t give his word lightly.
‘Very well. Amy and Linsey, as you have probably guessed, are in a lesbian relationship.’
Michael hadn’t guessed or even suspected, but he nodded gravely, one part of his brain trying to remember if there were signs he had missed. The other part continued to listen to Sally who was explaining in her brisk lawyer’s voice.
‘They want a child, but don’t want a man—how can I put it?—too intimately involved in the process. In short, they hope to become pregnant with your sperm, using artificial insemination.’
‘Oh,’ said Michael. Then again, ‘oh,’ followed by an ‘um’.
The lawyer slid a document out of the folder in front of her and continued: ‘A contract has already been drawn up. You supply the sperm at the time Amy is ovulating. You must do this for at least ten cycles in the next twelve months. For this, you will be remunerated: five hundred dollars each month with an additional five thousand dollars if a pregnancy occurs. You will sign an agreement not to have any contact with the child, and for their part, Amy and Linsey will forgo any call on you for financial or emotional support.’ She sat back and Michael became aware of three pairs of eyes looking at him.
He gaped a bit.
‘This is all contingent upon the quality and motility of your sperm,’ Sally added. ‘We would need you to go to a doctor of our choice