Lizzie nodded, her smile widening. ‘Absolutely. Come on.’ All at once she felt like any other traveller. No one knew her history or her future. She had her best friends and she had the world to explore. ‘We can grab something to eat too. I’m starving.’
‘I don’t need to be told twice,’ Jaddi said. ‘Look at all these clothes. I’m in heaven.’
As they moved further into the market and the crowds, Samantha dove towards a table crammed with sunglasses and bags.
‘Oooo,’ Samantha squealed. ‘I want them all. Look at that red one.’ She pointed to a large, dark-red holdall. ‘Tell me that isn’t exactly the same as the Michael Kors I’ve had my eye on for the last year.’
‘You might have to wait.’ Lizzie tugged Samantha’s arm and glanced at the unfamiliar bodies budging at their sides and trying to get closer to the stall. ‘We’ve lost Jaddi already.’
Samantha turned and surveyed the street. ‘No, look –’ she pointed ahead ‘– there she is.’
Lizzie stood on her tiptoes and watched Jaddi dash in zigzags between the stalls.
‘Come on.’ Lizzie laughed. ‘We’d better grab her.’
‘Good point,’ Samantha said. ‘That girl can burn through spending money as quickly as you burn through a pack of jaffa cakes.’
‘Oi!’ Lizzie grinned, following behind as Samantha weaved through the jostling crowd. ‘You know as well as I do that you can never have just two jaffa cakes.’
‘Two? Surely you mean a packet?’
Lizzie laughed as they rushed to catch up with Jaddi.
An hour later, they stepped out of the market and onto a quiet street lined with scooters and motorbikes.
‘Can you believe this place?’ Lizzie said, her words lost amidst the heckles from the stall owners.
‘Where you from?’ a man called to them from a doorway which led through to a shop filled with more clothes.
‘I’m beginning to think,’ Samantha said, turning back to stare at the market, ‘that, “Where you from?” roughly translates as, “What currency should I try to sell you things in?”’
Lizzie grinned and followed Samantha’s gaze to Ben, camera on his shoulder, pushing through a group of women gesticulating widely over a reel of fabric. She hadn’t realised he’d been in the market or filming them. Despite the heat and the sweat cloaking her body she still felt the rush of blood to her cheeks as the lens followed her movements.
‘I have no idea how I’m going to fit this stuff in my backpack,’ Jaddi said, grinning and lifting four bulging carrier bags – the thin kind with the handles already stretched and ready to snap.
‘I’ll help you,’ Samantha said, taking two of Jaddi’s bags for her. ‘I bet you haven’t even Swiss rolled your clothes in your backpack.’
‘Swiss rolled? What are you on about?’
Sam shook her head and smiled. ‘I’ll show you later.’
‘I’m just glad we’ve eaten,’ Lizzie said. ‘That noodle dish was lush, I want to eat it every day.’
‘I bet you won’t be saying that by the end of a whole month in Southeast Asia,’ Jaddi said.
A sudden silence fell over them. Jaddi’s comment hung in the air. A whole month. One month. One third of their trip. Would it be enough? Lizzie wondered, dropping a few paces behind Samantha and Jaddi as they traipsed in the direction of their hostel. Only then did she notice the weight of her backpack on her back and the pain of the straps digging into her shoulders.
‘Here,’ Ben said, zipping his camera back into its case and falling into step beside Lizzie, ‘I got you this—’ He pulled a black watch out of his pocket. ‘It’s not very pretty, but it works.’
‘You got me a watch? Why?’ she asked, turning the square plastic object over in her hands and pressing a tiny black button on one side.
In one swift movement Ben snatched the watch out of her hands. ‘Don’t press that,’ he snapped.
‘Oh.’ Lizzie shrugged. ‘Look, thanks and all that, but I’m not really a watch person.’ She shook her head and picked up her pace. On the bathroom floor at the airport, and again in the hospital, she’d thought she’d glimpsed another side to the cameraman. One that wasn’t quite so rude and obnoxious. But clearly she’d been wrong. Why buy her a crappy plastic watch only to snatch it back again?
‘Just wear it, please.’ Ben frowned, handing her the watch again. ‘I’ve set the alarm for eight in the morning and eight at night. Every twelve hours. So you know when to take your medication.’
‘You think I’d forget again? Thanks for the vote of confidence.’ She shoved the watch into her pocket and dropped her eyes to the pavement. The brief feeling of normal she’d felt in the market disappeared.
‘Once we leave Bangkok, getting to a hospital is going to become a lot harder.’
‘Fine.’ The smooth confidence of his voice carried in her head once more. Hang in there. You’re going to be fine. She shook it away. What did he know?
‘Hey, there’s our hostel,’ Jaddi said, pointing at a two-storey yellow building on the opposite side of the road, its colour like a beacon against the backdrop of grey structures that surrounded it.
‘Lizzie,’ Ben said, drawing her gaze back to him, ‘when we get into our rooms, I’m going to get a quick bit of footage of the three of you in your dorm, and then I’m going to need to do some editing and send everything from today back to the studio, so it can go into the first episode on Saturday.’
‘Oh.’ She squeezed through a gap between two parked scooters, her mind racing through the events of the afternoon. Ben had asked her in the hospital if she’d wanted to watch the footage from the restroom, and she’d said no. She didn’t want to see it, but she didn’t want anyone else to see it either. She wished she had a little more, or any, of Jaddi’s guile when it came to getting what she wanted from the opposite sex.
‘And before you ask,’ Ben said, ‘the answer’s no. I send it all. No special cuts.’
‘I wasn’t …’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes, you were. And don’t even think about sending Jaddi to sweet talk me. I saw the full force of her charms with the doctor, and they won’t work on me.’
‘Jaddi’s charms work on all men.’
‘Not me.’ He shook his head. ‘But look, there’s something you can do.’
‘What?’ Lizzie asked, the throbbing returning to the back of her head.
‘Do tonight’s video diary as soon as we get into the hostel. Explain what happened. Reassure the viewers that you’re OK.’
Lizzie’s energy levels dipped as they crossed the busy road to the hostel. So much for normal, she thought again. Then she pictured her parents, settling down on their floral sofa to watch the first episode; her dad on the left with a glass of his home-brewed beer and a packet of smoky bacon crisps, and her mum beside him with a glass of wine or a Horlicks, depending on her mood. How would they feel when they saw their daughter collapsed on the floor? A rush of guilt accompanied the image. She’d put them through enough.
‘OK,’ she mumbled, picking up her pace and catching Jaddi and Samantha as they stepped into their home for the next four nights.
‘You all right, hon?’ Jaddi asked. ‘I’d hug you, but I’m too sweaty, and frankly, so are you.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Ben wants me to do a video diary the minute we get into our dorm room.’
Jaddi nodded. ‘That’s a good idea, so everyone knows you’re fine.’
‘That’s what he said, but …’ Lizzie’s voice trailed off. She couldn’t find the words to voice her frustration.
‘But what?’
‘I don’t know.’ Lizzie shrugged. ‘I tried doing one on the plane and it was all right, but it was weird too, you know? I can’t decide if I should think about it as talking to my mum and dad, or like I’m talking to you guys, or at the however many people watching.’ Lizzie sighed as they stepped into the yellow-walled foyer of the hostel. She wasn’t making any sense.
‘It’s called a diary,
’ Jaddi said. ‘Maybe the easiest thing to do is forget everyone else and talk about your day like you’re talking to yourself.’
Lizzie nodded. ‘Maybe.’
‘If you run out of things to say, then I can jump in, or better yet, just video Samantha meticulously unpacking her backpack. That alone will get some laughs.’
‘Hey!’ Samantha leant over Lizzie and shoved Jaddi. ‘Our backpacks are our snail shells. Our home away from home. It doesn’t cost anything to be organised.’
‘Of course not.’ Jaddi laughed.
Lizzie smiled and tried to laugh, but the burst of energy she’d felt stepping into the market had drained away, leaving the aftermath of the seizure tainting her thoughts. A desire to sleep overwhelmed her along with relief at having dodged an MRI. Day one, and she was clinging to their dream with a spider’s thread. At this rate they wouldn’t make it to day five, let alone ninety.
CHAPTER 9
Day 4
Samantha
Fifty-one … fifty-two … fifty-three. Samantha counted each step as she made her way slowly up the narrow stone steps of the Temple of Dawn. She’d covered the first twenty steps with ease as her eyes had absorbed the detail on the temple walls on each side of the staircase. Tiny seashells, fragments of glass and coloured porcelain placed into spiralling flowers and intricate patterns stretched across every inch of the walls surrounding the temple. Stone sculptures of ancient Chinese soldiers and mythical tiger-like beasts stood in rows around the centre of the vast stone structure.
It was like nothing she’d ever seen before, although she’d had the same thought yesterday when they’d wandered the grounds of the Grand Palace, and again in the evening when they’d entered the ramshackle streets of China Town, the only part of the city that hadn’t succumbed to modernisation.
She’d always loved London’s old white-stone buildings mixed in with the sleek glass of modern architecture, but now it seemed stuffy and dull compared to the dazzling colour and creativity of Bangkok’s history.
A group negotiating their way down the steps bustled past. Samantha shuffled closer to the railing and stopped, relieved to have a momentary break from the burning pain shooting out from her knees and up her thighs. It didn’t help that each stone step was at least three times the height of a normal step, making it feel more like climbing a very long ladder.
Her eyes followed the group as they continued down towards the river, lapping at the edges of the temple, now far below, and she wasn’t even halfway. Samantha forced her legs to begin climbing again and focused her gaze towards the top of the central prang, where Lizzie, Jaddi and Ben continued up, eager to reach the viewing platform before the sun began its descent.
Sweat cloaked Samantha’s skin under her long-sleeved T-shirt, one of the only garments from her backpack she hadn’t thrown away. All of the cotton vests and shorts she’d packed in England now felt thick and uncomfortable in the heat. Replacing them with the lighter clothes, sold in the markets for next to nothing, had helped with adjusting to Bangkok’s humidity over the past three days. Except when they visited the temples, and had to adhere to dress codes that required the majority of their skin to be covered.
As Samantha continued to ascend, the air began to clear. A breeze blew over her face and neck. It was the first hint of cool she’d felt since leaving the temperature-controlled room in the hospital. Lizzie had bounced back from her seizure almost instantly. The only reminder that it had happened at all were the purple bruises on Lizzie’s shoulders and legs. That, and Samantha’s memory of it, which played on loop in her mind the moment her head hit the pillow each night. Neither Lizzie nor Jaddi had spoken about it since, and Lizzie had been quick to brush Samantha’s concerns away whenever she’d asked. Lizzie hated to be treated any differently because of her illness, and yet it was a struggle not to. She had to try harder though, Samantha thought. The cloud hovering over them was dark enough without Samantha adding to it.
Samantha pulled in a long breath and caught a whiff of musky incense burning from somewhere inside the temple walls. She wondered how much the burning incense was for the monks’ rituals and how much was to mask the stench of sewage and rotting vegetables rising from the Chao Phraya River below.
‘It’s so majestic here. The energy is so peaceful,’ a woman with a Scottish accent said from five steps below her. Samantha glanced at the woman, and the boyfriend she’d spoken to, then back at the temple walls. The original china pattern on the porcelain was still visible on some of the larger pieces.
Samantha tried to assimilate the temple’s peaceful energy as she neared the top of the spire. It didn’t work. The architecture was beautiful, the craftsmanship magnificent, but the energy? She couldn’t feel it. What she could feel was the vibration of her phone from the bag around her waist. Samantha resisted the urge to unzip the pocket and read David’s latest text message. Whipping out a mobile phone in an ancient, sacred temple seemed somewhat crass, even in a city mobbed by selfie sticks.
Besides, she knew what David wanted to know. The same thing he’d asked yesterday, and the day before that. Where was she? What was she doing? Who had she met?
She understood his need to stay in contact. She was on an adventure in a faraway land, and he wanted to be part of her journey. She just wished he’d give her some space and some time to process what had happened between them. A frown creased Samantha’s forehead. David and space were not two words that went together. Even before Lizzie’s prognosis and their plans to travel, David had hated sharing her. She could spend all day working by his side and all evening in his flat, and he’d still want more.
It was one of his worst qualities. She’d loved him for it once, maybe she still did, but it was getting harder to ignore the childishness of it. She still remembered the time when she’d rescheduled their quiet night in to catch a West End show with Lizzie and her parents, and he hadn’t spoken to her for two days.
Part of her understood his game. The reason for his timings. He’d wanted to do something to ruin her trip, to ensure that he was never far from her thoughts. But why couldn’t he have proposed instead? After all, her belongings were neatly boxed in the corner of the living room, ready to be moved to his flat when she returned. More than that, she loved him. David was everything she wasn’t: suave, sophisticated, romantic and good-looking. It was easy to ignore his slightly short stature; easy to thank the waiters herself when he placed their orders without a polite word.
Samantha’s legs buckled for a second as she stepped onto the platform at the top of the central prang, tugging her thoughts back to the present. For the first time, she looked around properly – the view over the city was breathtakingly beautiful. She felt Lizzie’s arm loop through hers, Jaddi standing on the other side of her. Her heart started to race. How many years had they talked about this and now here they were. Their dream of seeing the world together was coming true. For the first time, she managed to forget the camera lens and all those people at home watching her.
CHAPTER 10
Samantha
Twenty minutes later, the blue sky had turned lilac and the pain in Samantha’s legs had dulled to a throbbing ache. Impatience niggled in Samantha’s thoughts. It was time to start the descent, to get back to the hostel and change before heading back out into the bustling city for cold beers and noodles. Samantha turned to ask Lizzie how much longer but the question died on her lips. The look on Lizzie’s face, mesmerised by the panoramic view, was enough for Samantha to keep the question in her head. Her friend wasn’t ready to leave.
Samantha thought of the rooftop bar the previous evening and Lizzie’s stricken face when the heavy grey clouds of a thunderstorm had rolled across the sky. She thought she knew everything about Lizzie, but Samantha didn’t know why sunsets seemed so important all of a sudden, or why Lizzie seemed to be scrutinising the view as if she was scanning a group of people, looking for a familiar face. Samantha opened her mouth to ask, but closed it again. Lizzie would tell them w
hen she was ready.
‘Why do you like to watch the sunsets?’ Ben asked, mirroring Samantha’s thoughts. Ben sat down beside Samantha, and with his back to the view he leant outwards, angling the camera at Lizzie’s face.
Samantha looked at Ben for a moment. Despite his harsh words on the plane, he was growing on her a little. He’d helped with Lizzie’s seizure, and he’d never barged into their room at the hostel without knocking first and giving them fair warning. She’d caught him smiling at their jokes a few times too.
But Ben wasn’t smiling now. Despite the camera pointing at Lizzie, his eyes had moved to the drop beyond the ledge. His eyes widened, his forehead creased. He swallowed hard; she could tell by the way his Adam’s apple lifted up then dropped back down. Was he scared of heights?
‘It’s beautiful,’ Lizzie whispered.
Samantha waited for Ben to ask another question, but instead he waited, the camera fixed on Lizzie’s face. It reminded Samantha of a police interview technique she’d read about once. Three sentences in a hundred-page policy briefing document. Samantha couldn’t remember what the report had been about, or any other information within in, but for some reason those three sentences had stuck in her mind. Silence was an unnatural state for human beings. If a question was left hanging, then more often than not, the other person felt obliged to speak. A useful technique for police interrogations, and documentary makers it turned out.
‘I want to find the place in the world with the most beautiful sunset,’ Lizzie added.
‘Do you think this is it?’ Jaddi asked, looping her arm around Lizzie as Ben zoomed in on their faces, then turned, traversing the shadowed buildings of Bangkok as the tip of the sun disappeared from view, leaving behind a spectacle of pink and purple.
‘It could be.’ Lizzie smiled. ‘Ask me again on day ninety.’
Samantha’s throat tightened. Day ninety. Samantha had never deluded herself. Ninety days, it wasn’t long. But now they were here, the days were disappearing like grains of sand slipping through the gap in a timer. Samantha desperately wanted to slow it down, but she knew she couldn’t. In the blink of an eye they’d be at day twenty, sixty, ninety. She reached for Lizzie’s hand and felt it tighten around her own.
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