Coconuts and Wonderbras

by Lynda Renham

  ‘It’s fine. Why don’t we discuss the conference over coffee once I’ve showered? I’m a bit wacked anyway to be honest, I’ll probably order room service or something,’ I lie.

  The last thing I want to do is have dinner with Blancmange. He looks at me gratefully.

  ‘I’ll give you a knock in a couple of hours. Have a rest until then.’ He smiles but I can see the anger in his eyes and wonder is he angry at me or Penelope. I take the key and walk down the corridor to my room.

  To my relief my luggage is there. Oh, what luxury compared to last night. There’s a proper loo, toilet paper and a real shower. All the same I can’t help wishing we were back in the country where all was peaceful and quiet. Well, apart from when we were attacked, it was quiet and peaceful. It all felt so intimate there. I look out of the window. The place is vibrant. People are shouting and the road below me is a mass of tuk-tuks, motorbikes and people carrying all kinds of wares on their back. Maybe I will pop out later. As long as I keep away from the posh restaurants I am not likely to see Alex and Penelope. I do hope she isn’t going to come along to the conferences. I will go mental if she does. Isn’t this just so my luck? I check the time on my Blackberry. It’s ten in the morning in England. I phone Issy. From the background noise it is clear she is at her sister’s.

  ‘Libs, you’ve got everyone up in arms here, hold on. Barnaby go and play with your sister, like a good boy, if that is at all possible.’

  I catch her tell someone she needs to take a call and then hear the clip clop of her heels.

  ‘Shit it’s freezing. I bet it is bloody hot where you are. Remind me never to have kids. Rachel is oozing breast milk and cries at the drop of a hat. I presented her with a sodding Ricky Gervais DVD for her birthday and she had a mini breakdown. Hugging and kissing me. It was dead embarrassing. Honestly, bloody hormones. And that bloody Bradley still shits his pants even though there are potties all over the house. I hate sodding families at Christmas time.’

  ‘Penelope just arrived,’ I say and burst into tears.

  Why am I so upset? This is ridiculous. Alex Bryant is just a big knob who drives me mad isn’t he? The truth is in the past few hours he has made me feel more cared for than I have felt in a long time. I felt interesting and worthwhile, even if he did make insensitive comments about my weight. I know that he didn’t mean them in the way I took them. He isn’t Toby, and if he had something to say about my weight he would have come straight out with it. He thinks I am intelligent and capable, and I was actually looking forward to our dinner. Now it is all ruined and I feel awful for hating Penelope. After all, she is his fiancée.

  ‘Christ almighty,’ groans Issy. ‘Why is she there? Why are you getting so upset? Did Toby phone and say something to upset you? Honestly him and his big mouth.’

  I hiccup and blow my nose.

  ‘It’s just Alex is so... I don’t know. I thought we were having dinner but she wants to go to the steak place and he didn’t, and now we’re just having coffee and I feel so fed up. Plus I can’t remember the codes and everything is going wrong and my flip-flop is broken…’ I take a deep breath.

  ‘I thought she was a vegan…’

  ‘And he used my bra, not once but several times,’ I hiccup.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ is her response. ‘I heard from the ever obnoxious Toby that you hit a spot of bother and that Alex was being a bit of an arsehole, but…’

  ‘No, he isn’t, honestly, he has been really nice in a funny way.’

  ‘What a dream hunk. Hate to say I told you so. Are you okay though, seriously? There is no real danger of you being kidnapped and all that crap is there?’

  I hear the concern in her voice and panic in case she tells mother. It will be the final straw if mother starts calling me with all her great advice.

  ‘No, of course not and really I am fine. I’m just tired. It’s been a hectic day. A nice long shower, room service and an early night and I’ll be my old self in no time.’

  It takes me some time to convince her that I am fine and after promising to call her the next day, I hang up and turn my phone off. I know I really should leave it on, in case Toby should phone. I really don’t feel emotionally capable of dealing with him right now. He only needs to be a bit sharp and I will burst into tears. He will blame Alex and I will argue with him and it will just get worse and worse. I am beginning to learn that the way to Toby’s heart is not through his stomach, or sex, or even being slim come to that. The way to his heart is to make him jealous. I seem to have done that and it doesn’t feel good. I would much prefer Toby loved me for who I am and not because he feels slighted by someone else and now needs to prove his manliness. It occurs to me that I really should check on my parents and phone my mother in Kilimanjaro, hoping she isn’t half way up it. It really doesn’t bear thinking about. She answers her phone immediately.

  ‘Darling, I was going to phone you later. What a disaster, a total disaster we’re just airlifting daddy to hospital.’

  I can feel myself getting all hot, as If I’m not hot enough already, and my heart is beating rapidly. Images of my father swathed in bandages and with an oxygen mask over his face assault me.

  ‘Is he going to be all right? What happened?’ I feel all faint.

  ‘We were only a short way up, oh it is so exhilarating darling, far better than sex…’

  ‘Mother,’ I yell.

  ‘Oh sorry, I am quite flushed with it all. The instructor was marvellous, quite your type. Speaking of types how is the gorgeous Alex Bryant? Did anything happen on the plane?’

  Oh, yes, mother, lots of things but nothing like the things that are going through your head.

  ‘Is daddy going to live?’ I ask, hearing the panic in my voice.

  ‘Of course, darling, it’s only gout, but what a time to have an attack. We were right in the thick of it all too. I must say your father has really thrown himself into this. It’s had an amazing impact on him. He is like a young man. He has become like that Bryant chap, all hormones and action. Trouble is all the action has gone to his foot.’

  I don’t know how I cope, I really don’t. I am just grateful they are not on the nudist holiday. That would have been too much to bear. Just the thought of my naked father being airlifted anywhere is enough to make me shudder. I’m already emotionally bruised, I can’t take any more battering.

  ‘I hope you’re staying out of the sun Libby and you are shaving aren’t you? There is nothing worse than being caught out unshaved.’

  Oh God.

  ‘Email us. We bought one of those Blueberries, just like yours, and daddy has worked out how to get emails on it. He is becoming a real little whiz-kid. It’s so exciting and as soon as we get to an Internet café I can answer them.’

  Is there any point in explaining?

  ‘Blackberry, I think you mean,’

  ‘Well, whatever, it is marvellous.’

  My phone pings several times. It is Toby trying to get through. I say goodbye to mother and turn it off. I just can’t bear to speak to him. I have a shower and fumble through my suitcase for something suitable. Of course, everything makes me look dumpy. I try on three tops, a dress, and finally chuck a loose and very thin smock top over a pair of cropped leggings. I attempt to be cool and poised and am about to twist my hair into a bun when there is a knock on my door. Surely it isn’t that time already. I check my face in the mirror and see it is flushed from crying. Why can’t I be the epitome of sophistication and chic like Penelope? With my heart thumping I open the door. A gorgeous fresh-faced Alex stands there and I visibly swoon. My God, how does he manage to look so irresistible? I feel my breath catch in my throat and think it wouldn’t be such a terrible thing if I couldn’t breathe, at least Alex can perform CPR. Just the thought makes me go all hot. He can pound my chest anytime.

  ‘You look nice,’ he says politely.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You look pretty fantastic yourself,’ I want to say but obviously I don’t. He has a fi
ancée for goodness sake. I check she is not standing behind him.

  ‘Can I come in?’ he asks, his eyes widening.

  What am I doing? He must think me so stupid.

  ‘Yes, of course. I’m sorry.’

  I find I am touching myself everywhere. What is wrong with me? I can’t keep still. I feel so damn self-conscious around him and fatter than I have ever felt. He is holding a thick folder and I pull a face. Surely we haven’t got to go through that?

  ‘Penny was a bit of a surprise. I wasn’t expecting her,’ he says apologetically.

  I push a bracelet over my wrist and shake my head dismissively, attempting to look nonchalant. I shake it too much and my earring flies out of my ear. He picks it up and smiles at me.

  ‘All we need is for Toby to come too,’ he grins and looks relieved that I am not too upset.

  ‘Yes, party poopers.’

  Did I really say that? He points tactfully to the door.

  ‘Shall we head downstairs for coffee?’

  Well, we could head for the bedroom, I think shamelessly. Honestly, I really think the heat has affected me. In fact, I think it has affected me more seriously than I had at first thought. I actually find that once we are in the coffee shop I am not in the least tempted by the cake on offer. That’s a first. Alex orders drinks and leaps into discussion about the book conference that is in two days’ time. I feel I should remind him that I am somewhat jet-lagged, but before I can say anything he is handing me a detailed list of ideas for articles, and asks if I can manage to cover some of them. I freeze the coffee cup halfway to my lips.

  ‘Me? I can’t cover any of those stories,’ I say, astonished he should even ask.

  He looks tiredly at me.

  ‘There is a lot there you could cover. You can talk to several of the villagers here about life under this regime. You can get a feel for who supports the rebels and who doesn’t. You can put your own views across. You have strong opinions.’

  What a nerve. How dare he tell me what I do or don’t have?

  ‘I don’t, actually. I am not in the least interested in the politics of the country.’

  ‘I think you are,’ he argues, casually spooning sugar into his coffee. ‘I think you are well aware that the government is the problem here.’

  ‘It was the rebels who came after us.’

  Why am I arguing with him? It is obvious he will win, he always does, damn him.

  ‘But under whose orders? You know how to write a balanced article, which is more than your boyfriend does.’

  Why does he have to keep doing this? Just as I was beginning to like him he criticises Toby all over again.

  ‘Why are you always so negative about Toby’s writing?’ I snap, trying not to bang my cup down.

  ‘Probably because it is near impossible to be positive about it,’ he snaps back.

  Right that’s it. I really can’t be party to this annihilation of Toby’s work. I stand up angrily and grab my shawl from the back of the chair.

  ‘Enjoy your dinner this evening. I shall see you in the morning when hopefully you will be in a less critical and damning mood,’ I say and march from the coffee shop and back to my room, except I get all the way to my room before I remember I need the key. Sod it. I begin the walk back downstairs and come face to face with him. He is holding my key and smiling. I do not smile back. He is so damn arrogant if he thinks I am over it already.

  ‘You certainly are hot headed,’ he says, making it sound like a compliment.

  I take the key and turn from him.

  ‘You’re more than welcome to join us for dinner this evening. Won’t you change your mind?’

  Oh, I’m sure Penelope would be thrilled if I did.

  ‘Thank you, but I would much prefer to get room service.’

  Like hell I would. He looks concerned for a minute and cocks his head slightly.

  ‘You’re not thinking of getting out are you?’

  He makes it sound like a prison break out. I simply shrug.

  ‘If you do, and I am not for one minute suggesting that you should, remember the people here will always try to please. They may say they know where you want to go but more often than not they don’t.’

  ‘I’m quite happy to have room service,’ I repeat.

  He shrugs, flashes that wide arrogant grin of his and wanders back down the corridor to his own room. Well, honestly. He could have attempted to change my mind. Now, what the hell am I going to do about dinner? I miserably enter my room and sit by the window staring at my Blackberry, trying to get up the courage to turn it on. In the street below things are getting busy and several tuk-tuk drivers look up at me and wave. The temptation to go into the town and have a look around is overwhelming me. I get a burst of courage and decide I will. I turn on my Blackberry and feel a bit deflated to see Toby has not left a message. He has tried to call but no text or voicemail. God, I hope that doesn’t mean he is on a flight. That’s all I need. I decide it is time to take the bull by the horns, or in this case, the tuk-tuk. I make an effort to walk confidently from the hotel lobby, making sure my shawl is covering my shoulders, and am mobbed by a group of tuk-tuk drivers. If only it were this easy to get a taxi back home.

  ‘Lady, where you want to go,’ asks one, winking at me.

  ‘I take you to temples, good price,’ calls another.

  ‘You want to go to Pub Street for nice dinner?’ asks the first driver.

  Heavens, is he asking me out? I know he isn’t, of course and accept his offer of a ride.

  ‘I want to go to Angkor market,’ I say climbing up into the tuk-tuk.

  The tuk-tuk is an amazing way to travel. Although how the thing can stay upright is beyond me.

  ‘You want hotel?’ he asks turning around to look at me.

  Didn’t I just say the market? Why do I feel I can’t go anywhere without Alex Bryant?

  ‘No, I want to go to the market please.’

  His face lights up.

  ‘Ah, Hotel Market. That two dollar. You tell me where is Hotel Market?’

  Oh dear.

  ‘I’ll go to Pub Street,’ I say resignedly. Hopefully there will be somewhere to eat there.

  It is very humid and I am grateful for the cool breeze that the speed of the tuk-tuk brings. On several occasions I feel sure he is going to collide with other tuk-tuks and cling onto my seat for dear life. I never imagined I would be travelling through a city on a motorised rickshaw. I have to say it is very exciting. We pass a river, a small monastery and several people carting heavy goods on their backs. As we get closer to the city I feel a tremor of excitement. As we enter the busy centre I spy craft shops and several open markets. I see the lovely jewellery and beautiful shawls. I remind myself I must look for something for mother and Issy before going home. Siem Reap is a mass of colour and smells and I feel energised by the vibrancy of the place. I have no idea what ‘Pub Street’ is, or where it is, but I am deposited in a street full of restaurants, people and music. I feel exhilarated. The colours and smells are evocative. I wander along looking at menus and fighting off tuk-tuk drivers. I find myself glancing sheepishly inside the restaurants to see if Alex is there with Penny but I realise it is probably quite early for them. I push my way past begging children and stroll down a quiet lane where shawls and purses are being sold. I study them for a while and then tire of fighting off the endless demands from an assistant to buy her goods. I enter a small eating establishment and order myself a coffee and a slice of banana cake. I feel quite liberated. A young girl tries to sell me some postcards. I am sorely tempted but refuse after vaguely remembering something Alex had written in a piece for the New York Times about street beggars in Asia. Okay, I admit to reading some of his stuff. I am just relaxing over my coffee when my phone rings. It is Toby. I reluctantly answer. I might as well get it over and done with.

  ‘Have you gone out of your mind?’ he bellows. ‘Your phone has been off for hours. You can’t expect me to phone you all the hours God s
ends.’

  ‘I didn’t ask you to phone me at all,’ I respond huffily.

  I wonder if Penelope is snogging the life out of Alex.

  ‘Libby, don’t you love me any more?’

  Oh God, now there’s a million dollar question.

  ‘Where is Serena?’ I say feeling the pain again, as I picture them at the Christmas party.

  ‘I only want you, Libs,’ he says in a soppy voice.

  He does? Oh, well that’s okay then. Honestly, just what kind of a pushover does he think I am?

  ‘I can fly out if you want me to. I can probably get some time off.’

  What? Didn’t he tell me he was going to the airport? What does he mean he can get some time off?

  ‘I thought you were going to the airport this morning.’

  There is silence.

  ‘Toby?’

  ‘On the web it advises not to go to Cambodia unless it is absolutely necessary. Obviously, I’ll come if you want me to.’

  Oh, obviously.

  ‘No, it is fine, Toby. I’ll text you tomorrow.’

  I hang up and push my sunglasses on so no one can see I am crying and quickly pay. What a bastard. He had no intention of coming at all. Why did I ever believe he would? He’s not missing me at all. He just hates the thought of me being with someone else. I am such a fool when it comes to men. I walk angrily down a small deserted alley wondering where the tuk-tuk drivers are now that I want one. I realise I am the only one walking through the narrow pathway and feel a slight panic. Why did I come through here? I walk a bit quicker when I see the opening into the busy streets and lots of tuk-tuks. Oh, thank goodness. I am almost there when a man jumps out of an entrance. I let out a small shriek and wave my arms at him. He smiles at me and walks past. What is wrong with me? It’s that bloody Alex-we-have-a-situation-Bryant who has put the wind up me, telling me we have been compromised and all that rubbish about being ‘good negotiation material’ or whatever he called it. I can see a tuk-tuk driver now and decide it may be better to go back and order room service. I feel lonely and tearful. I am almost at the entrance when a lady pops her head out of a side window and calls me.