The results confirmed it: he was infertile. Single and depressed again, he’d finally been sacked for being late.
His mother went round after work to sort him out.
‘Still in pyjamas! Nothing will change until you want it to.’
He shrugged. ‘Makes no difference what I want.’
All he wanted was to rebel against her bossiness.
‘You need a job and you won’t find it lying in bed,’ she snapped.
Next evening he wasn’t there.
Through his bedroom window his mother saw a newspaper on his now tidy bed, not close enough to see the ink-ringed words Male escorts wanted.