Lost Innocence: The Accused. Part One

by Simon Palmer

FIFTEEN

  STAN STIRRED from his sleep, stretched awkwardly and yawned. His breakfast tray was on the side table and a quick scan confirmed what he already knew, mango and sticky rice, again. It may have been de rigueur in these parts, but he would have killed for an English breakfast. His stomach rumbled and so transferring the tray to his lap, he began to munch through his breakfast.

  Startled by some heavy footsteps, he glanced over at the door and saw a rough-looking lady with heavy hips and thick, fat lips. He wasn’t sure where he’d seen her before, but it seemed that she knew him. She strode over, clanking her heels, then stopped, towering over him. “Hello, Daddy.”

  The tall figure was heavily made up with bright red lipstick plastered over rubbery lips. Horrified, Stan realized who she was and flashed back to that fateful night near Soi Cowboy. He almost choked on his mango. “What do you want?”

  ‘She’ pulled out a bar bill, handed it over and sat on the edge of the bed.

  “How did you find me?”

  “I send you here after you have accident.”

  Stan couldn’t take his eyes off her huge lips that he’d kissed; the same lips that had been wrapped tightly around his member. Her hands were huge and her feet were bigger than his!

  “So I pay you and you go away?”

  “You pay bar and you owe me for upstairs.”

  “What’s the total?”

  “Six thousand enough.”

  Stan frowned, reached for his wallet and was leafing through some notes when two men strolled in without knocking. One was his father!

  Nigel’s gaze focussed on the strange looking lady sitting on the bed. Stan ignored ‘her’ and forced a smile for his father. “Hello Dad.’

  “Stanley. Are we interrupting something?”

  Stan glowered at the lady-boy. “Get out!”

  Nigel looked on with sympathetic eyes as Pang frowned, Stan blushed and the lady-boy blinked.

  “I come back when you not busy.” ‘She’ rose from the bed and stepped out. Stan ignored the noise of her clanking heels. “So dad, how are you?”

  “One sec, Stan.” Nigel followed ‘her’ out into the hallway. “Excuse me. Does he owe you money?”

  She turned and smiled. He slipped out his wallet, opened it and invited her to reach in. She took six thousand and tucked it into a hidden compartment in her bra. “You want some company?”

  “Sorry but we’re looking for someone right now.”

  “Who you look for?”

  Nigel held up his phone and showed her the photo of Michael’s sketch of Mia.

  “I not know her but maybe I can find her. I know many people here. I know police captain who like lady-boys. Maybe he will help.”

  “That’s something. See what you can find out.”

  “Fine. You have number I can call you on?”

  Nigel handed her a card. “I’m Nigel Walker. I’ve written my Thai number on the back.”

  “Nice meet you Nigel. I am Sung.”

  “You want a copy of the picture?”

  “Please,” she replied. She took his phone and sent the picture to her Samsung. “I see what I can do.”

  “Thank you Sung.”

  “If I help you, you pay me, okay?”

  He nodded. She turned then sashayed down the corridor, her high-heels clanking on the hospital tiles. Nigel turned back to Stan’s room and frowned.

  Stan was lying in bed red-faced when Nigel walked in and stood over him. “Cheating on Lou is one thing, but with another man?”

  “I only had a drink with ‘her’, ‘him’.”

  “Anyway, she’s helping us now.”

  “She’s doing what?”

  “She’s helping us find Mia.”

  “Of all the people you have to deal with.”

  Nigel changed the subject. “I’ve seen Mike.”

  “How is he?”

  “He’s okay, but refused to let us pay.”

  “Why did you give him a choice?”

  “He’s determined to see this through, says that once he’s done twelve days, they have to let him go. They don’t have hard evidence to charge him with anything.”

  “How many days has he done?”

  “I didn’t ask.”

  “So, what does this mean for us?”

  “It means we’re going to be here a while longer. If he doesn’t get out, we need to find the girl, persuade her to come forward and withdraw her accusation. Who knows what’ll happen if this does go to Court? I’ll be meeting with a lawyer later.”

  “Okay, Dad. Good work. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help,” Stan pointed to his bad leg.

  “That’s all right, I’m better off without you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m on the case.”

  “Take a seat and fill me in.”

  SIXTEEN

  MY MONEY had finally come through. It had been given to ‘Bald Guard,’ then most of it had found its way to me. I bought flip-flops and clothes from a guy with dog breath, topped up on toiletries then took care of John.

  “That’s more than you owe me, mate.”

  “It’s not nearly enough for all you’ve done.”

  “You can survive in here with money, mate.”

  “Where can I get hold of a bed roll?”

  “They’re usually inherited when someone dies or is released. You want me to get you one?”

  “Why don’t you have one?”

  “I’m okay on the floor…You want to hear about the first girl I ever took back to my room?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’d never paid for sex before and was nervous the

  first time I did. I’d met Suk in a pool bar. She was a tall, sexy babe with long, black hair and high hips. She wore a tight white dress with a slit to show a little leg and her firm arse was as wide and as round as a water melon; it showed through the creases of her dress whenever she took a shot. We played a few games. She soon warmed to my charm and I eventually asked her back.

  When I got her to my room, I was embarrassed at how bare it was. I was travelling on a budget and I didn’t care but it was basic. All it had was a creaky, double bed, tired, torn bed sheets and a dusty fan that hardly worked; even the window was cracked.

  She stepped in and didn’t comment - didn’t care. I handed her a beach towel, directed her to the bathroom then sprayed a little Brut around the room. I threw all my loose clothes into my case under the bed and was sliding it back when she returned in just the towel. She glided over to me, her shoulders smooth and her smile naughty.

  I lay back, invited her to join me and watched as she climbed on the bed and crawled over to me like a horny cat. She smelt like a strawberry cheesecake with vanilla cream. She reached over, unbuckled my belt, slid down my shorts then pulled off my boxers with her teeth. Then losing the towel to reveal a perfectly made pair and the smoothest of openings, she took me in her mouth and earned her name.

  Once she felt I was ready for more, she stopped, slipped a rubber onto ‘Little John,’ lifted her body onto mine and began the most erotic bouncing I’d ever experienced. She rode me like a horny bride on her honeymoon and didn’t stop till I was done. She was the first I’d ever paid for and still the best.”

  He paused for effect then turned to me. “You don’t talk about women much, mate.”

  “I guess I don’t have so many experiences.”

  “You must have a story or two.”

  I cleared my throat as I thought of something and began. “I was returning home from work one evening and riding an escalator when I saw the most beautiful girl coming down the other side. She was wearing a sleek black dress with a silver strip and for the briefest moment, her eyes met mine. I looked back at her – she was smiling at me.”

  “And then what? You got off, went down to find her, got her number, bought her dinner?”

  “No. I was on my way home.”

  John sat there with a bemused look. “Is that
it?”

  “That’s how it happened.”

  “That’s hardly a story, mate.”

  “How old will your son be now?”

  “…The same years as I’ve been inside, ten.”

  “I wonder how he looks.”

  “I can only imagine. It drives me to go on, hoping that one day I’ll meet him and be back with Nui. You know for the last ten years I’ve tortured myself for what I did. Agreeing to smuggle heroin was bad enough. I never wanted to do that in the first place, but disappearing from my wife’s life when she was heavily pregnant, leaving her as her father did before; if she never forgives me, I wouldn’t blame her. When you get out, I want you to go to her and tell her why I did what I did and ask her to wait for me if she hasn’t met someone else. I can’t hide anymore, its killing me.”

  “Are you sure you want me to tell her that? Why don’t you think about it first?”

  “That’s all I’ve been doing for the last ten years. Just see that she’s all right, please.”

  I nodded, he went quiet – I left him alone.

  The heat from the scorching sun bore down on us. John and I were standing butt-naked by the trough, washing ourselves as others tried nudging their way in. I was shocked when a short man standing next to me pulled down his shorts then masturbated onto the floor. Some of the others laughed, some slapped the back of his head.

  I waited for John then followed him to dry out under the sun. He handed me some clean clothes.

  “Cheers,” I smiled as I slipped them on.

  “Would you like to meditate?”

  I nodded and joined him as I did most days. His first instruction was always to sit cross-legged in the lotus position, with my back completely straight. This allowed the diaphragm to move freely and therefore helped breathing. He went into great detail and although I always tried to take in his words, I often found myself nodding off. This time was no different. He tapped my hand then went off on one of his rambles.

  “Your mind may begin to wander. It tends to flow towards whatever attracts it. Compose yourself with determination, resolve and intent. Do not let it drag you where it wants to. If you meditate daily, soon your inner strength and mind-power will grow. Meditation is the gateway through which you pass to the world of freedom.”

  I nodded - we began. He was a little over-fanatical for my taste, but at least I was exploring something new. I respected him. He was a wise man who had used meditation and Buddhism to help release the guilt of his crime. From what he claimed, it had not only preserved his sanity, but kept him alive.

  The room filled with shouting from the inmates. John cocked his head to one side, listened then announced, “Someone has died.”

  I watched as a motionless body was poked, prodded, pointed out to a guard then dragged away by a couple of trusties.