Sketches, Dispatches, Hull Tales and Ballads - University of Hull

and chucked it onto the passenger seat. There was a loud thunk as
the doors locked.
‘For Christ’s sake, what are you doing?’
‘I’m helping you with your research, Gerald. I told you I believed
in fate. It was no accident that someone left a copy of Great
Expectations on the seat, and it’s no accident that you got into my
cab tonight. Now you’ll find out what it’s like to crave sleep the way
other people crave sex or drugs. We’re going to experience the long
dark night of the soul together, you and me. Then you can write
something autobiographical for a change.’
He lobbed the copy of Great Expectations into Gerald’s lap.
‘You whetted my appetite back there, Gerald. You read so
beautifully. Let’s carry on, shall we? Chapter two next, where we
meet Pip’s sister.’
Gerald stared at the book in his lap, then looked up just in time to
see a sign for the ferry terminals flash past. They must have been
doing sixty.
Mick’s voice had an edge to it when he spoke again.
‘I’m waiting, Gerald. An expert like you will know how a lack of
sleep can make the mildest man extremely short-tempered. How it
can cause violent mood swings, make people do impulsive things.
Gerald, are you listening?’
Gerald looked into the pair of piercing blue eyes staring at him in
the mirror. He tried to speak, but his throat was parched, his mouth
clamped shut, and the opening words of ‘The Dalesman’s Litany’
were going round and round in his head.
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