One evening, we had trekked en masse through the village and up the steep incline to watch the sun set over the two bays of Phi Phi. As we navigated the narrow, twisting paths, I had to keep stopping to take a swig from my water bottle. The air was humid, my vest top clinging to my skin, my trainers rubbing my feet. I was stuck at the back of the group with Dylan, who had his earphones on. I noticed that everybody had paired up: Emma and Lars, Karen and Harry, which left me with Dylan. I wasn’t his type at all – my boobs weren’t big enough for a start – and he paid me no attention, which was fine by me. I think he and Harry had only hooked up because they both came from New Jersey, but they were so different. Emma and Lars were holding hands as he helped her up the rickety pathways, and I glanced at Karen and Harry ahead. They were laughing, turning to chat with Emma and Lars, and I had a horrible, paranoid thought of them becoming a foursome. I wasn’t interested – and neither was Dylan – of making it six, so where did that leave us? Suddenly our group was becoming more couply and it left a nasty taste in my mouth. I washed it down with water.
The views from the top were breathtaking. We sat on the flat, warm rocks to watch the sun going down behind the bays, the two curves of sand reminding me of butterfly wings. The sun looked like a huge orange ball, staining the sky pink and red, and reflecting in the shimmering sea. We all fell silent as we watched. Karen leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder, then, as if remembering she was in company, sat up straight again, tossing her long hair back. But I’d noticed the intimacy, the frisson of electricity that had passed between them.
‘Isn’t it stunning?’ said Harry. Karen was sitting between us and I longed to push her out of the way. What was it about her he liked? We weren’t that dissimilar; both brunettes – although hers was more mouse – both short, both lean. OK, she did have a pretty face whereas mine was more masculine, more angular. But still, I could look attractive when I made an effort. I lit a cigarette and saw Karen’s eyes flash. She didn’t approve of me smoking. I leaned across her and offered one to Harry, who took it gratefully, and I threw Karen a triumphant look.
‘A doctor who smokes,’ she said disapprovingly, staring straight ahead. ‘Very incongruous of you.’
‘Ooh, incongruous,’ mocked Dylan next to me. ‘Have you swallowed a dictionary by any chance, Karen?’
I nudged him in the ribs, hard, enjoying his groan of pain. ‘Grow up,’ I hissed. He was like the annoying little brother I never wanted.
We walked back down the hill, me silent, brooding, the others giggling and stumbling as we navigated the rocky pathways in the dusk. The smell of smoke drifted towards us from a nearby bonfire. A group of locals sat around a hut, colourful washing blowing in the faint breeze from a makeshift line.
Dylan struck up a conversation with me about that night’s activities, which involved getting hammered in the bar. ‘I can’t wait to get a couple of pints down me,’ I said with feeling; I was planning on getting wasted.
‘You’re a bit of a hard nut,’ laughed Emma in her soft Irish accent. ‘You can drink me under the table and that’s saying something.’
‘I’m not a big drinker really,’ said Karen with regret, grabbing hold of Harry’s arm as she stumbled over a rock.
Emma laughed. ‘I’ve never seen you pissed, Karen.’
‘She’s too much of a control freak,’ I offered for Harry’s benefit. ‘And she doesn’t smoke.’
‘I had a girlfriend at medical school who used to get wasted every weekend,’ said Harry. He had the type of voice that people automatically listened to, strong and confident, as if he’d grown up with parents who were interested in everything he had to say. ‘She’d be nearly comatose after puking up everywhere. It wasn’t very attractive in the end, not to mention what she was doing to her liver, binge-drinking like that …’
‘Not very attractive?’ teased Emma. ‘But it’s all right for men to get off their faces?’
‘And it’s all right for you to smoke and fuck your lungs up?’ laughed Karen, prodding him good-naturedly in the side. ‘But at least your liver’s pristine.’
‘Well, yes, that’s different.’ He tickled her and she fell against him, giggling. ‘But it’s not very attractive whoever gets off their faces,’ added Harry mildly, throwing an arm casually over Karen’s shoulder. ‘Not to the extent where you’re incoherent, talking shit and puking everywhere. And she was like that every weekend. It just got embarrassing.’
It was easy to spike her drink. It didn’t take much, just the benzodiazepines I’d picked up in Bangkok. It’s amazing what you can buy over the counter at the chemists there. I’d gone in for diazepam, to help me block out the nightmares I had about Sean tracking me down, but when I saw the rows of little blue, white and yellow pills lined up in jars along the shelf like sweets, I knew I had to make the most of it. So I’d bought some of each.
That evening, I mixed them all together to make a fine powder. Later, we were all standing with our backs to the bar, chatting, and I positioned myself next to Karen. Her cocktail was behind her and she turned every now and then to take a sip. She usually spent all night harbouring two pints of lager. I’d only ever seen her a little bit tipsy. It was easy to tip the powder into her drink while she was flirting with Harry.
It didn’t take long for all those drugs to get into her system. It started with the dancing, something Karen never did; she told me once she was uncoordinated. She was right about that. Despite having a body like a dancer she moved like an elephant, unwieldy and inelegant, knocking into people; her clumsiness astonished me. Dancing was something that came naturally to me. I made sure I was next to her and Harry, remembering some of the moves from a salsa class I’d taken with Sean (before he got jealous when the dance teacher used me as an example and insisted we stopped going). I gyrated next to Harry as he did a sort of shuffle, looking embarrassed as Karen flung herself around, arms flailing above her head, her usual inhibitions forgotten.
‘This isn’t Ibiza, love,’ one bloke called to her when she stumbled into him, standing on his leather-thonged foot. I heard him mutter under his breath, ‘Bloody druggies.’
I could see the shade of humiliation in Harry’s eyes. Eventually he took her arm, telling her that she’d had enough and should get some water. I followed them, pleased to note how sweaty and unattractive she looked, stumbling and clutching on to him as though she would fall if left to her own devices. Harry led her back to the bar for a glass of water, which he made her down, concern etched on his face.
‘Wow,’ I said unnecessarily, ‘I’ve never seen Karen so pissed.’
‘It must be the heat. She needs to keep her fluid intake up.’
‘I feel dreadful,’ she groaned, still leaning heavily against Harry. Then her body convulsed and she threw up everywhere. I jumped back in alarm as it splattered to the floor, but Harry held on to her, calmly rubbing her back and holding her hair out of her face. Karen was like a ragdoll sagging between us, each of her arms around one of our necks as we half carried, half dragged her to our bungalow. We laid her down carefully on her bed. By now she was out of it, mumbling incoherently to herself, her eyes closed, a sheen of sweat covering her face like cling film. She had vomit down the front of her dress, which had ridden up, exposing her knickers.
Harry knelt on the cold tiles, straightening her dress and mopping her brow with a wet towel he’d got from the bathroom. ‘You need to keep her cool, make sure she drinks fluids and turn her over onto her side if she’s sick again.’
I felt a flicker of panic as he got up. ‘Where are you going?’ I’d imagined us spending the night together, playing doctors and nurses to Karen, having intimate chats over her prostrate body.
He frowned. ‘I’m going back to the bar …’ he said as if it was a stupid question.
‘You’re leaving Karen with me?’
He looked doubtful. ‘Well, I thought she might be embarrassed if she knew I’d seen her like this. And you’re her closest friend here.’
&n
bsp; Closest friend? I liked it. He came over to where I was sitting on the edge of my bed. He towered above me. I had a sudden, overwhelming urge to pull his cargo shorts down and make him forget all about Karen bloody Fisher. He leaned over and squeezed my shoulder. ‘You’re a good friend,’ he said. ‘Let me know if she takes a turn for the worse though. Hopefully she’ll sleep it off.’
She did take a turn for the worse. I made sure of it.
26
Karen spent the next few days in bed. I popped in to see her in between bouts of sunbathing, snorkelling and drinking, wafting incense sticks around in an effort to get rid of the smell of sickness and sweat. Harry came with me sometimes, but he seemed detached, distant. Maybe it was the doctor in him taking over but it was as though he no longer saw her as Karen, the object of his affection, but a patient.
She was still feeling too sick to come with us all to the Emerald Cave. We had a fantastic day, Harry and I larking about, pushing each other off the boat, taking it in turns to dive into the sea. I imagined what it would be like without Karen around. I enjoyed her company but when she wasn’t there Harry’s attention was on me instead.
I was on a high when we arrived back at the resort. I had a drink with the others at the bar, pretending not to notice as Harry slunk off. When I returned to the room Karen was sitting up in bed, looking happier. On her bedside table was a sleek ornamental Buddha about six inches in height. I picked it up. It was beautiful and heavy, carved out of onyx. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘Harry bought it for me,’ she said. ‘To cheer me up.’
Why hadn’t I thought of doing something like that?
I put it back, feeling despondent. She’d only been absent from the group for less than a week, but the dynamics had already started to shift; I was no longer stuck with Dylan but had become Harry’s companion. It was me he would seek out if he wanted to go into the village or for a swim. Now Karen was better I was worried things would revert to the way they had been before.
Sure enough, when we left Koh Phi Phi a week or so later and travelled by boat to Koh Lanta, where we rode elephants and snorkelled through the brightly coloured coral, I noticed Karen and Harry growing closer again. Every time he was in the vicinity her mouth would tilt up into a smile, accentuating her dimples, and they would gravitate towards each other, linking arms and wandering off together, their heads bent in conversation. I wondered if they were shagging. I never lowered myself to ask, and there were certainly no giggly admissions from Karen. She wasn’t the type. I wondered if it was time to move on without them, make some new friends. It was easier to do that here. Especially as the old ones were beginning to feel like dead wood. I felt my power diminishing with both Karen and Harry, and I didn’t like it.
‘I’m thinking of going back to Bangkok,’ I said one evening a few weeks later. The weather had begun to get windier, with frequent heavy showers, and although the heat was more comfortable than it had been back in May, it wasn’t quite so much fun diving and sunbathing.
The resort we were staying in now was right on the beach, although the one-bedroom chalet I shared with Karen was basic. We had laughed in shock at the hole in the ground that was the toilet. We were sharing one of the hammocks dotted about the beach, facing each other, our legs entwined, sipping cocktails. The sun had gone down and fairy lights were peppered about overhead. It had rained earlier but the air was warm, the wind rippling over the dark sea. In the distance we could see the others at the beach bar; every now and again their chorus of laughter would reach us.
Karen’s eyebrows shot up as she sucked her cocktail through a straw. The liquid was a vivid pink – berries and watermelon mixed with vodka – staining her lips. She swallowed. ‘You want to leave Koh Lanta?’
‘I’d quite like to go to the north. Then maybe on to Nepal. Or Burma.’
I could tell she was considering the idea. She licked her lips. ‘That does sound like it could be fun.’
‘I love it here,’ I admitted, throwing one of my arms in the air and glancing around at the long stretch of white sandy beach, the sparkling waters, the palm trees nodding in the breeze. It really was paradise; one long holiday, one extended party. A young guy in a beach hut next to us was having a massage from a dainty Thai woman, who was practically sitting on his back as she busily kneaded his shoulders. ‘But it’s been a few months now. Time to move on.’ My heart beat fast behind my vest top. If I was honest with myself I wanted her to come with me, but not the others. I toyed with the stem of my glass, watching the array of different emotions pass over Karen’s face like disco lights. She was weighing up whether to leave Harry or to leave me.
She took a swig of her drink. ‘When are you planning to go?’
‘In a few days. Do you want to come too? Or are you happy to stay?’ I tried to keep my voice even, to show I was indifferent whatever she decided to do.
She sighed. ‘I’m not sure. Let me think about it.’
‘Of course,’ I smiled sweetly. She looked relieved, but I wasn’t worried. I would make sure she chose me.
I spent ages getting ready the next evening. There was the usual party down on the beach; I could hear music and laughter and the tinkle of glasses from my open window. I studied myself in the small speckled mirror. I’d lost over a stone living off rice and fish for months, and was more svelte, more tanned, than I’d ever been. My dark hair was glossy and I looked healthy and attractive. I applied some red lipstick and slicked my hair back off my face. It was growing out of its pixie cut and needed reshaping.
We’d started drinking early and I already felt a little sloshed as we made our way down to the beach. ‘I’m worried about drinking too much,’ Karen said. ‘After last time. I still feel embarrassed to think of it. And I still don’t understand why the alcohol affected me so much.’ It was dark now and the steps were decorated with little lanterns so we could find our way. There was a string of fairy lights hung around the bar, giving it a festive atmosphere. I spotted Harry standing with Lars and Dylan on the beach, his head swivelling around when we walked in, but he didn’t come over.
‘What’s wrong with Harry?’ I asked as we queued at the bar. ‘He has a face like a slapped arse tonight.’
Karen’s mouth twitched. ‘Oh Beth. You’re wicked. I told him we might be leaving. He doesn’t want to come as he’s already been to the north.’ I remembered him telling us when we first met but I said nothing, just nodded sympathetically as she continued, ‘I think he wants to carry on travelling with Dylan and Lars. They hooked up in Vietnam and have been together ever since.’ She sighed. ‘Emma’s going to stay with them too. Harry asked if we want to go with them. What do you think?’
‘Where are they headed next?’
‘I think they want to fly to India.’
‘India? I don’t think you’d like it,’ I found myself saying. ‘You’d get Delhi-belly and there’s people shitting in the streets. Plus, it’s a long way from here.’
She looked miserable and stared at her hands. ‘I know it’s far, but I have always wanted to see the Taj Mahal.’
‘And it’s all right for them,’ I added. ‘They’ve seen Thailand. But we’ve only just started, Karen. And what about Vietnam, Laos? I’m not done with South East Asia yet. It would be a shame to cut it short. You must do what you think best, but I’m leaving for Bangkok tomorrow.’
We were interrupted by the cute barman asking what we wanted to drink, and after ordering cocktails we floated off towards the beach, caught up in a throng of other partygoers. Emma came bounding towards us, pulling me and Karen to where she was standing with Lars and Harry. Dylan was chatting up a busty blonde over in a darkened corner.
Harry looked handsome that night. The sun had bleached the ends of his hair and coloured his skin to a golden hue. I longed to touch him, to kiss his full mouth. Karen was also looking at him with longing. The difference was, he was returning her look of lust.
Harry. What was his story? Everybody had a story. The mus
ic was pumping, some dance tune that pulsated in my ears. I knocked into Harry on purpose so that his drink spilled. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said, taking his glass as he looked with dismay at the sticky liquid dribbling down his thigh. ‘I’ll get you another.’ Karen was chatting to Emma and hardly noticed me hurry to the bar. It was easy to slip the drugs into Harry’s drink with nobody around to see.
When I returned, Harry smiled at me and took the drink gratefully. ‘Cheers, Beth. You didn’t have to do that.’
‘It was my fault,’ I said, staying by his side. Somebody turned the music up and a new crowd surged onto the beach. Karen and I got separated so that I was left alone with Harry. I saw him glance about, trying to spot Karen, but I grabbed his hand, moved us further into the crowd. He was still holding his glass but I was pleased to note that he’d downed most of it. ‘Dance with me,’ I said in my most sensuous voice, moving my body suggestively to the music. He began swaying half-heartedly as the crowd enveloped us so that we were in our own little bubble. His pupils were huge in his face. This was my chance, I thought. This was my chance to show her. I just hoped she was watching. I reached up and pulled him closer, grinding myself against him. I saw the surprise in his eyes, but he placed a hand on one of my hips and I reached up and planted a lingering kiss on his mouth, my hands finding that lovely blond hair at the nape of his neck, taking in the smell of him, like lemons. I felt him stiffen at first, shocked at my forwardness, but then he went with it, relaxing into the kiss, his tongue finding mine, lost in the moment like I knew he would be. It went on for ages, his hips grinding against mine as he grabbed my arse, pulling me so close that I was almost sitting on him. His drink spilled down the back of my top but I didn’t care. I ground into him, feeling him harden against me. I was good at seduction – Sean always said so. Eventually, as though waking from a trance, Harry pulled away from me, his eyes widening in horror as it dawned on him what he’d just done.
Last Seen Alive Page 18