Ouch!
Helen’s plans for a holiday were going down the toilet faster than a lingerie model’s breakfast. Time for a change of tack.
“Fred, I really need this holiday,” she said, her voice soft.
“It’s not my call, Helen, and I’d help you if I could but the Board would have a canary if senior management started to take off looking after their own personal needs ahead of Eden’s.” The blood vessels in Fred’s neck pulsated like popping corn.
“But, Fred, we both know in a few weeks I’ll be called to the executive suite and asked to head up the new design team in Eden’s Hong Kong office. That’s a big decision to make – going to Hong Kong to live.”
Fred appeared to relax a little.
Bingo!
“It would also give us a chance to get a test run in with Sarah, see how she copes with managing the office.”
Fred remained silent but she could see the cogs in his brain turning.
“The short notice would mean a lot of overtime for both you and Sarah.” He stared at her over his glasses.
“I plan to stay in London until I go, so I can even work weekends. As for Sarah, she’ll jump at the chance to head the office for a few weeks. She’s eager to learn and she won’t have expected such a golden opportunity this early in her time with Eden – she’ll bite my hand off.”
Fred continued to look tight-lipped. Eventually he broke the tension. “I don’t know, Helen. Certainly three weeks’ absence is out of the question.”
“Two then.”
“Where were you thinking of going?”
“Vietnam.”
Fred’s top lip twitched but he said nothing.
“It’s where my father was killed. I’ve always been curious about the country.”
Fred’s eyes became gentle. “Would you consider visiting a potential supplier or two while you’re there, maybe a factory also?” He cocked an eyebrow.
“One factory and make it three weeks.”
“Two and a half weeks and that’s my final offer.”
“Done!” Helen stood and held out her hand to shake on the deal.
Fred took hold of it and looked up into her eyes. “Drink after work this evening?”
The office phone beeped. “Mr Giltrap, your ten o’clock is here,” his PA’s voice echoed through the intercom.
“Sorry, Fred, I’ll be working late tonight – every night in fact,” said Helen hastily. “It’ll be worth it, got to look at the bigger picture, hey? Speaking of which, I’d better get cracking.” She headed towards the door. As she opened it, she turned and said, “Thanks, Fred, you won’t regret this.” She closed the door gently behind her.
Fred stared at the door. He sighed heavily, already regretting letting Helen go.
Helen came back to her office, closed the door behind her and pressed herself against it. Although she’d shared an office for some months now, she sometimes forgot, and acted as if she were alone.
“Where’s the coffee?” Sarah made no attempt to hide her annoyance. Helen was behaving very peculiarly indeed, almost light-heartedly. Sarah did not like it one bit.
“Oh dear, I forgot the coffee.” Helen hunched her shoulders. “Sarah, I’ve got some great news for you and some not so great. Which do you want first?”
“The bad.” Sarah folded her arms and slumped back in her chair.
“You’re working late tonight and probably for the rest of the week and longer for that matter.”
“What! No way, I’m exhausted already.”
“Ah, but you haven’t heard the good news. Come on, we’ll go down to the shop’s café – that way we haven’t officially left the building. I’ll tell you all about it there.” Helen opened the door and made a swiping motion with her arm. “After you.”
“Fine,” Sarah replied, trying to remain impassive . . . but there was something about Helen’s demeanour that said this could work out very well indeed for Sarah.
Chapter 33
Jack sat on his backpack at the side of a dusty road in the Northeast Province, Cambodia. He was heading to a transport stop to pick up a minibus ride. Where to, he’d yet to decide. He flicked through the images on the digital screen of his Nikon. He smiled as the pictures he had taken since he arrived in Cambodia flashed up at him, the mighty temples and wats in the Siem Reap Province to the vivid orange robes worn by the Buddhist monks. He stopped at one picture and zoomed in, so far his favourite snapshot of his trip – Angkor Wat. His first visit to the temple had been at dawn. Although majestic at any time of day, the image he had captured of the towers framed by a rising sun was breathtaking. He had spent three days exploring the area and temples, marvelling at the intricate detail. It had reawakened a love of architecture he’d forgotten he ever had. Seeing what the Khmer architects had created back in the twelfth century had mesmerised him in all its magnificent glory. It was truly humbling.
He was jolted back to reality by the sound of music. A large group of people was heading his way, a procession of young and old walking down the street. They carried brightly coloured umbrellas, trays of food and pitchers of juice. Two young men held a silver tray between them, on it a large head of a very dead pig. Jack jumped up before he was trampled on – the boys laughed as he brushed off his trousers. The sight of a beautiful young woman dressed in a flamboyantly coloured sampot, the traditional Cambodian wrap skirt, told Jack there was a wedding feast taking place. One of the older men gestured to him to join in with the celebration. Jack shook his head but held his camera up to indicate he’d like to take some pictures. The man smiled and nodded, Jack started to shoot.
“Come, have fun!” A Western woman pulled at his elbow as she danced past him. Jack found himself being dragged into the flow. She laughed at him as she took his hand and began to sway. Much to Jack’s relief the wedding party started to turn into a building and began to lay down the platters for the feast, cutting short his dance routine.
“English?” his hijacker asked – she had beautiful dark eyes.
“American.”
“Ah,” she nodded as if that explained everything. She smiled. “I’m Carine.”
“Jack. You’re French, right?” He smiled at her.
Carine was petite and pretty in a quirky sort of way. She had a blue bandana on her head and two more knotted around her neck. She wore an assortment of bracelets on both arms that jingled each time she moved. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Yes, from Montpellier. Where are you going, Jacques?”
“I don’t know. I was just on my way to the travel stop. I’ll check out what’s available and go there.” He was trying not to look at her breasts.
“Good, I’m going that way too, we’ll walk together.” Carine picked up her backpack and pulled the padded handles over her shoulders. Thankfully, this covered her protruding nipples. The local women had shied away from her, the men just stared and some pre-teen boys had giggled behind cupped hands before their mother shooed them along.
In the ten minutes’ walk to the stop, Carine managed to give Jack a detailed account of her twenty-four years on the planet. He even knew she owned a black and white cat named Casper. She spoke fluent English and her accent was sexy as hell, which was just as well considering the amount she talked. Her voice disappeared in the din of chaos as they arrived at the travel stop. Touts vied for their business, guiding them towards their rusty white vehicles, which were in various states of disrepair. Jack’s camera shutter whirred as he captured as much of it as possible.
“Would you like to share my taxi, Jacques?” Carine used her hand as a sun-visor as she looked up at him.
“But I don’t know where you’re going.” Jack squinted, lowering his lens.
“But neither do you know where you are going.”
She had a point.
“I’m going to the volcano lake,” she said. “We can swim. You can swim, Jacques, no?” Carine had adopted the role of little girl lost.
“Sure. Why not?”
The shared taxi to Banlung was with four other passengers plus the driver. Carine jumped on Jack’s lap to make more room for everyone. She clasped her arms around his neck and talked to the passenger sitting next to him. As her conversation became more animated, she began to tell her stories in scooping arm gestures which meant Jack got an eyeful of breast as her loose T-shirt fell away from her body. She had nice breasts, small and firm – her skin kissed golden by the sun. They reminded him of Amy’s before she’d had breast implants. He lightly twisted the back of Carine’s shirt – thereafter when she moved he only saw her armpit.
Jack and Carine got out of the shared taxi, laughing.
“I did not know it was possible to fit so many people into one tiny car!” Carine giggled. “Let us eat some lunch, Jacques, before the lake, huh?”
Jack never remembered hearing his name sound so damn good, and he was happy to oblige. They ran across the road to the first restaurant they saw. Not looking at the menu, they ordered two bottles of Angkor, the local beer. He was enjoying Carine’s company – she did talk an awful lot but she didn’t ask questions. She was happy to talk about herself and her travels, which suited Jack just fine. And she was nothing like Amy. He wiped beads of sweat from the top of his lip.
“Are you listening to me, Jacques?”
“Excuse me?”
“I said we should find somewhere to stay in town tonight before we go out to the lake.” She pursed her lips and brought the long-neck beer bottle to her mouth.
“Eh, sure.” Jack cleared his throat.
“And decide which direction we go tomorrow. There is a place, three hours from here that I am thinking of. The monks meditate in little wooden huts. It is said to be very beautiful, sweet-smelling flowers everywhere. And on the walls there are paintings, how do you say it – murals?”
Jack nodded.
“Murals that tell a story of karma, Jacques.” Carine smiled broadly. “They say if you speak bad of people, you will lose your tongue. If you have an affair, the pictures show what will happen to your love parts. Of course, it could never be in France – making love is our national sport!” She took a swig of beer and waited for Jack’s reaction.
“Wow, I should bring my ex there – she’d be totally screwed. When can we go?”
“Tomorrow we will go – in a few days I’m leaving for South of Vietnam, before going north to see the amazing Halong Bay – do you know of Halong Bay, Jacques?”
“I’ve heard of it, sure. I have vague memories of it being a backdrop in a Bond movie, but I was more interested in the on-screen action than the scenery.”
“I think you were distracted by the Bond girls, Jacques! You should go there – it is a natural wonder of the world after all. Perhaps we will go together, swim in the bay, you can be James Bond and I his beautiful companion.” She threw her head back in laughter before jumping up. “Which reminds me, now the lake awaits! Come, let us go! We can leave finding a room until later.” She pulled him up, giving him barely enough time to fish out a few dollars from his pocket to pay for their drinks.
It was getting late by the time they had hiked through some forest to get to the lake which was set in a volcanic crater. They passed local craft stalls selling woven silks that looked like rainbows. Jack tried to stop to take a photo but Carine tugged him on, saying they could stop on the way back. They quickly forgot about the stalls once they got to the water’s edge. The natural beauty was haunting, the water crystal-clear and calm. A haze rose from the surface making it look as inviting as a giant hot tub.
“Ah, swimming at last!” Carine stretched her arms out. “Come, Jacques, hurry!”
Jack felt a twinge of irritation. He’d been travelling alone for a couple of weeks and, although at times he thought it might be nice to have company, he’d enjoyed his freedom.
“Just a second, I’m going to take a few shots, this light is awesome.” He adjusted the lens on his camera.
“Just the light?” Carine said from behind him.
He looked over his shoulder just as she was lifting her T-shirt over her head.
“Amy, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Jack waved his hands at her.
“Amy? Who is this Amy? I am Carine Dupoux, and I say we swim!” With that, she unbuttoned her shorts and let them drop to the ground. Carine obviously didn’t care much for underwear, as she worn none. And she liked the natural look, Jack noted. Embarrassed, he turned his attention to imaginary dust on his camera.
“Sorry, ‘Amy’ just slipped out – it happens sometimes in moments of panic. Carine, please put your clothes back on. They are very conservative people here – I don’t think they’d appreciate . . . Oh, God, here she comes . . .”
Carine had started to skip again, this time towards Jack. She grabbed both his hands and placed them on her butt. She wiggled as she bent over and slapped his hands repeatedly against her butt-cheeks. She wasn’t leaving anything to his imagination. He looked towards the lake, not wanting to look at her reddening buttocks.
She let go his hands. “Don’t be a stiff old man, Jacques – skinny dipping is fun!” she giggled as she ran towards the water. She stopped just before diving in to give him one last butt-shake.
She was wrong – right now, there was nothing stiff about Jack. He rubbed his face. Maybe she was right, maybe there was no one else around and he needed to lighten up. He unhooked his camera from his neck.
“Check out the broad with the great rack!”
Jack looked around, startled. Two guys had arrived.
“Man, you are one lucky dude.” One of them patted him on the back.
“Hey, isn’t that the crazy French chick from our hostel last night?”
Carine bobbed up and down, waving to the shore. “Boys, you came! Come, join me!” she shouted.
“Fucking A, man.” One guy already had his shoes off and was running towards the water. He plunged in and Carine screeched with delight as he grabbed her by the waist and threw her up in the air. Then she wrapped her legs tightly around his waist. The other guy dived in and began to splash them, all three laughing as they frolicked in the fading light.
Jack kicked pebbles awkwardly – he wanted to get out of there but didn’t want to leave Carine alone with strangers, although it didn’t look as if they were exactly strangers to her.
As he feared, a National Park guard eventually arrived on the scene. He pointed to Carine and started shouting at Jack. He then shouted into his walkie-talkie.
Great! A night in a Cambodian cell coming up.
Carine laughed at first, then disappeared so that only her head was visible above the water.
Wise move, Carine.
The two guys sniggered as Jack appealed to the guard not to call for his colleagues. The guard eventually nodded but mumbled to himself. Jack offered him money, which appeared to insult him further.
“I swear, man, she’s a little loco.” Jack made a circular motion with his forefinger to his temple. “The water is good for her, makes her calm. I promise, no trouble. She’ll put her clothes back on and we’ll go. Okay? Okay?”
“You got cigarette?” the guard asked.
Jack looked over at the packet of Camels that sat on top of Carine’s rumpled clothes. He walked over and picked them up. “How about twenty cigarettes?”
He handed them to the guard who gave a faint smile and popped a cigarette in his mouth. He was still mumbling but he rambled off.
“You can come out now!” Jack called to Carine who had started to laugh again, yet to discover Jack had bargained for her freedom with a pack of her cigarettes. She ignored him. “Carine, I’m going to head back to town now!” he called.
“Au revoir, Jacques, nice to meet you!” she shouted back.
Jack hesitated. “Will you be okay? I can wait if you want me to.”
“Don’t worry, I am in good hands,” sh
e said and there was another whoop of laughter.
Jack walked back the way they had come but the stalls had closed up and gone home for the night. He shifted his backpack as he began to walk towards town. He made a mental note to think twice before accepting rides from strange women again, whether they were from Andromeda or France.
Chapter 34
While Helen waded through her final preparations for her holiday departure from Eden’s design office in London, Poppy Power and Mary Devine went about their own ritual: their Monday lunch date. Recently, Poppy had decided that since she worked Saturdays, she should have Mondays off – taking advantage of being her own boss.
“Buon giorno!” Angelo called to them as they walked into the little harbour-view café, their weekly venue.
“Buon giorno!” they chorused back.
Mary pulled out a high-stool. “I don’t know, Angelo – if I keep eating that wonderful bread of yours, you’ll have to buy wider stools!”
The aroma of fresh coffee and baking wafted around them.
“And why not? You only live once, no?” Angelo gave his broadest smile.
“Not according to Poppy. She believes in reincarnation.” Mary cocked her thumb in Poppy’s direction.
“Yes, yes, I know. Very interesting what Puppy says. She promised to teach me meditation – one day, when I’m off.” He nodded and smiled at Poppy.
Poppy blushed.
“Let me guess – two cappuccino, one carpaccio and one caprese?”
“Sí, grazie,” Poppy replied.
“See, Mary, I teach her too!” Angelo said, before being called away by a large group, lured in by the warmth of the café.
“I just want to say again, Mary, thank you so much for agreeing to have Lily to stay.”
“I’m really looking forward to it, Poppy, and, as I said, I think you and Helen need a break. Helen hasn’t been herself recently, always talking about work – I’m beginning to think that company won’t be happy until they’ve got the last drop of blood out of her. Then there was that business with Cyril. Sweet Jesus, that was downright awkward.”
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