Danny Kemp.

Sex In Our Times.

Many years ago, when I first started to drive a London Cab, I stopped to pick-up a chap, who when I asked where he was going said…. “I want a woman.” He was not English I hasten to add, but from where in the world he came I could not say. After I overcame my shock, not to his request, but to his choice of word…’Wanted’…as opposed to…’Needed’… I asked if he would care to elaborate. He complied by indicating his wishes in an unmistakable way by mouthing his intentions, with that international word beginning with the letter F, and gyrating in a manner that left no doubt in my young innocent mind. I suggested that we find a telephone box where women, who catered in that branch of the service industry for his particular demands, would advertise their collective expertise on business cards on display. After due deliberations, on his own I would add, he made his choice from the provocative and lurid depictions ranging from…’Busty Blonde will personally see to your every sexual cravings’ to…’Russian Slave Girl caters for subservient’s.’ He returned to the cab and handed me a card with an address. As all of this was taking part during a time that in England, we would affectionately call lunch-time, it crossed my mind that his preference, of sought after exercise, was probably more pleasurable to the often seen Joggers on the streets of London. I, never being excessively in love with running for no apparent reason, always considered these to look bored, enduring needless pain and who’s penchant served no purpose in life, other than stimulating the onset of arthritis in knees and ankles that would later cause trouble to both them, and our overstretched National Health Service. My mind wandered, and I wondered if his form of workout could ever be recommended as an alternative to such activity. I came to the conclusion that if so advocated, it could well be cost-effective, set against the prescribed drugs that Joggers would eventually need. A catalogue of benefits traveled though my senses on that journey, only to be compared against the equally long list of disadvantages. My foremost concern for the well-being of those amongst us, who shared this man’s predilections to sex as a way to gain fitness to parallel that of those Joggers, was what lead me to refuse the invitation he offered me, when we arrived at the door to the apartment where his appointment waited. That’s what he invited me to do; wait for his return. My refusal was not based on any estimation as to this man’s sexual prowess, or stamina. I have never based opinions only on impressions. I was not that stupid, even at that young age. No, it originated as a headline I had read in a respectable newspaper some time earlier: 87 MEN DEAD WHILST ON THE JOB. I considered informing this man of that headline but, after giving consideration to his lack of understanding of my language, and quite honestly a selfish desire not to share my considerable knowledge of all things, I decided not to, simply accepting his payment and driving away. Oh, I almost forgot. If you need to research that enlightening news, then I should give you the name of that newspaper…The Civil and Mechanical Engineering Times… Anything carried in a newspaper with the prestigious name of The Times cannot be wrong!

It’s a good job that London Cab Drivers have the Knowledge, don’t you think?

About Daniel Kemp

Daniel Kemp’s introduction to the world of espionage and mystery happened at an early age when his father was employed by the War Office in Whitehall, London, at the end of WWII. However, it wasn’t until after his father died that he showed any interest in anything other than himself! On leaving academia he took on many roles in his working life: a London police officer, mini-cab business owner, pub tenant and licensed London taxi driver, but never did he plan to become a writer. Nevertheless, after a road traffic accident left him suffering from PTSD and effectively—out of paid work for four years, he wrote and self-published his first novel —The Desolate Garden. Within three months of publication, that book was under a paid option to become a $30 million film. The option lasted for five years until distribution became an insurmountable problem for the production company. All seven of his novels are now published by Creativia with the seventh—The Widow’s Son, completing a three book series alongside: What Happened In Vienna, Jack? and Once I Was A Soldier. Under the Creativia publishing banner, The Desolate Garden went on to become a bestselling novel in World and Russian Literature in 2017. The following year, in May 2018, his book What Happened In Vienna, Jack? was a number one bestseller on four separate Amazon sites: America, UK, Canada, and Australia.  Although it's true to say that he mainly concentrates on what he knows most about; murders laced by the mystery involving spies, his diverse experience of life shows in the short stories he writes, namely: Why? A Complicated Love, and the intriguing story titled The Story That Had No Beginning. He is the recipient of rave reviews from a prestigious Manhattan publication and described as—the new Graham Green—by a highly placed employee of Waterstones Books, for whom he did a countrywide tour of book signing events. He has also appeared on 'live' television in the UK publicising that first novel of his. He continues to write novels, poetry and the occasional quote; this one is taken from the beginning of Once I Was A Soldier There is no morality to be found in evil. But to recognise that which is truly evil one must forget the rules of morality.
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1 Response to Danny Kemp.

  1. tonykirwood says:

    Great story!

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