Coconuts and Wonderbras

by Lynda Renham

  ‘Hold on tight, I’m going to have to speed up,’ I shout.

  I feel her squeeze my waist.

  ‘And whatever you do, don’t take your eyes off the van.’

  ‘Copy that,’ she squeals back.

  ‘Bogie at three o’clock,’ she squeals again.

  ‘What, where?’ I scream, swerving across the road.

  ‘Not really dear, I’ve always wanted to say that and this seemed the perfect time. This is so exciting.’

  I’m beginning to think my mother has been with my father too long. I feel my phone vibrating in my dress pocket and hesitantly remove one hand from the handlebars to retrieve it.

  ‘Oh God, what are you doing?’ she screams.

  I lean behind and hand her the vibrating phone. I haven’t considered what I am to do when the van stops. I follow it down a narrow track.

  ‘I’ll have to call you back Jamie, dear, we’re in the middle of a mission and closing in on the enemy right now,’ mother shouts into the phone.

  My bum bangs up and down on the seat as we trundle along the track.

  ‘Oh dear, I think my uterus ring just got dislodged,’ groans mother.

  I tactfully ignore her. We pass a group of water buffalo and race through a tiny village. I am beginning to feel confident on the bike and relax my neck muscles. The van slows and then stops. I skid into a clearing and almost hit a herd of water buffalo. The buffalo sit calmly studying us. Perspiration runs down my face and mother pulls several tissues from her Cath Kidston bag along with lip salve. She really is becoming a must-have accessory on an adventure trail. I am actually quite surprised she doesn’t pull a gun from the bag. I look at the house ahead of us.

  ‘Phone Jamie and give him the van registration. Jonathan may be able to do a trace,’ I say, sounding like Jack Bauer on his way to CTU.

  I think how proud Alex would be of me if he was talking to me of course. I turn to see the tuk-tuk pull up sharply and practically throw Issy out of it.

  ‘Where is he?’ she asks looking all flushed. It is stiflingly hot now.

  ‘My Blueberry isn’t working,’ sighs mother.

  I grab her phone and see there is no signal. Damn it.

  ‘Come on, let’s move,’ I say like a battlefield commander.

  We creep slowly through the bushes towards the old dilapidated house on stilts.

  ‘That must be where they are holding him,’ I gasp.

  I feel so unattractive and am convinced Alex will think so too when he sees me. What was I thinking of wearing black today? I look like I am in mourning. What if he is still angry with me? Oh dear, maybe I really shouldn’t be doing this. Toby, after all, has come all this way to be with me and all I have done so far is upset him too. I feel an overwhelming urge to cry and quickly pull myself together.

  ‘Fenella is right, we should have weapons,’ says Issy sitting on a log and fanning herself. I sit beside her and gently kick the coconuts beneath my feet. Mother suddenly jigs about excitedly in front of us.

  ‘Coconuts,’ she hisses, pointing at the ground, ‘you are sitting under a coconut tree. They are so big and perfect for throwing at the enemy.’

  Good heavens, she is quite right. I pick up two coconuts. Issy and mother do the same. It is very humid and my hair is sticking to my neck. I pull a scrunch from my bag and pull it back into a messy ponytail. Issy is looking horrified down at her feet.

  ‘Shit and bollocks,’ she cries loudly. ‘Things are running over my feet, bugger, what the hell are they?’

  We all look down, terrified at what we may see.

  ‘There are bloody ants everywhere,’ she yelps.

  I look down to my feet and let out a little scream when I see hundreds of them crawling across my toes. It looks like one big black mass.

  ‘This is when we need a gun,’ repeats mother.

  I look at her with raised eyebrows.

  ‘Christ, they bite too,’ yelps Issy, jumping up and down, resembling someone performing a war dance. It isn’t long before I join her.

  I can’t help wondering if Alex Bryant is worth all this. Pulling a dancing and jiggling Issy behind me I continue walking down the bumpy dirt track as quickly as I can, shaking my feet as I go. There is silence all around us and not another soul to be seen. Issy clasps my hand so tightly that it starts to throb. Mother holds her coconuts to her chest like a body shield.

  ‘What if they are poisonous?’ Issy asks, voicing my own thoughts.

  ‘I’m sure they’re not,’ I say, not feeling the least bit sure.

  What if there are snakes here? Or God forbid, scorpions? There could be anything crawling around here and we wouldn’t even know.

  ‘Oh God, I just saw a lizard. Oh dear, oh dear,’ mother shrieks. I kick out my foot but I’m not altogether sure why.

  ‘Keep walking,’ I order. I find myself wishing I was home in my little cottage in England, with the heating on full and surrounded by cake tins.

  ‘What the hell are we doing?’ shrieks Issy. ‘Have we gone bloody mad?’

  All that can be heard is a dog barking and Issy’s rapid breathing. I feel like my breathing has stopped altogether. I wish I had a glass of that palm-sap wine, or two come to that. Instead of feeling hot I am actually quite shivery. I’m not going down with malaria or something, am I? What if I have caught something from those bloody ants? That’s about right. I will save Alex, get him to somewhere safe, all the while sweating like a water buffalo and then, when we are safe, I shall collapse in the manner of Santine, out of Moulin Rouge, and dramatically die. Issy will be distraught but Alex will be inconsolable. They will arrange a beautiful funeral in the manner of Princess Diana. It will be in Cambodian style because Alex will say how much I loved the country and he will demand I am buried wearing the earrings he bought me and…

  ‘Libs, what do we do now?’ hisses Issy, breaking into my daydream. Her voice is shaky. I look down to our feet to see they are bright red.

  I am plunged into the depths of danger again and my malaria is immediately forgotten when I realise we are very close to the house. Standing outside are two burly Cambodians, which we Three Musketeers are no match for. I freeze. What if they have guns? I hadn’t thought about this before. Would Alex want me to risk being shot? I don’t mind being a heroine and all that but not if it is too dangerous. Let’s face it, one can’t enjoy the accolade if they are dead, now can they?

  ‘Libs, Libs, do we throw now,’ says Issy attempting to stay calm, but her high-pitched voice gives her away.

  ‘Yes, do we throw now?’ echoes mother.

  I turn and look behind wishing there was someone I could ask.

  ‘Attack when you see the whites of their eyes,’ I whisper, not knowing what the hell I am talking about but I read that somewhere.

  ‘The whites of their eyes, Libs are you crazy?’ whispers Issy.

  ‘No, but I am in agony. My feet are itching like mad. At twenty-five yards, volley fire, present, aim fire!’ I shout.

  ‘Bloody hell, Libs, you’re not Michael Caine and they are not sodding Zulus. We’re in Asia not bloody Africa.’

  ‘All the same it is jolly good fun isn’t it? Your father will be livid to know he missed this,’ giggles mother.

  ‘Fire,’ I shout and she immediately tosses her coconut and I follow suit with mine. We watch as they fly through the air like javelins, hitting the windows and doors of the house. The men scuttle like mad and start running towards us. Issy throws a coconut towards them knocking one man sideways.

  ‘Good shot, Issy,’ I yell excitedly and she punches the air in her excitement.

  Suddenly, everything is bedlam. The other man races towards us shouting something that we don’t understand. In my fear I lob another coconut which lands on his head knocking him to the ground.

  ‘Is he okay?’ I ask worriedly.

  He is so still. I wish he would twitch or something. There is silence now and I wonder where the other two men are.

  ‘I haven’t a c
lue,’ responds mother blankly.

  ‘Do you think he needs CPR?’ I ask, flexing my neck.

  ‘Well, it wouldn’t do any harm I suppose. Do you have some?’

  ‘Have some what?’

  ‘What you just said.’

  ‘It’s a manoeuvre, not a drug,’ I snap.

  ‘Oh God, what are we going to do?’ asks Issy breathlessly.

  ‘Life I imagine, if we don’t get him breathing again,’ I say unhelpfully.

  A hand brushes my hip and I swing round. My mouth opens ready to scream when I see it is Alex behind me. Although I should say he could better be described as some kind of God. I only wish I looked like some kind of model but alas, I don’t. His arms go around me and he whispers angrily in my ear.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  His breath on my neck makes me shiver.

  ‘Rescuing you,’ quivers Issy.

  ‘Yes,’ says mother, trying to suppress her swoon.

  ‘Rescuing me from whom exactly?’ His eyes are dark and flashing with anger, but oh, he looks gorgeous.

  I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

  ‘Oh dear,’ moans mother.

  ‘These men are protecting me,’ he snaps angrily. ‘You’re lucky they didn’t shoot you.’

  ‘But we thought…’ I say stupidly.

  ‘I know what you thought.’ His eyes bore into mine and I feel like I’m being hypnotised. He turns and looks beyond me to the motorbike.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing on that?’ he asks, widening his eyes.

  I pull back my shoulders. Surely he will be proud of me now.

  ‘I know how to ride a motorcycle,’ I reply timidly.

  ‘Stupid woman, you could have killed yourself,’ he responds dismissively.

  Well, that’s thanks for you. Why is he so angry? He should be pleased we came to rescue him. Okay, so he didn’t need rescuing, but it’s the thought that counts. Why is he being so horrible? More importantly, why doesn’t he release me? As though reading my mind, he removes his hands and walks towards the man on the ground who is thankfully now moaning.

  ‘I’d better check on the damage,’ he says gruffly.

  ‘I say,’ whispers mother. ‘He’s a thousand times better looking in real life isn’t he, but shorter than I imagined.’

  I have to agree that he does indeed look gorgeous and not in the least short. I just want to wrap myself within the warmth of his body, although right now there is not much warmth being generated my way and I struggle to control my tears.

  ‘Oh dear,’ mumbles Issy. ‘Perhaps we should go.’

  A Mercedes roars along the dirt track and Alex groans. Jonathan leaps from the passenger side and runs towards us.

  ‘What are you doing ladies?’ he asks, but there is a good-natured smile on his face.

  ‘Being dangerous heroines,’ mumbles Alex helping the guard up. ‘Take them to their hotel. I’ll take care of the bike.’

  Well, how ungrateful is that.

  ‘We came here to help you and you could at least be a bit grateful. You’re nothing but a stuck-up arrogant arse,’ I throw at him angrily and proceed to climb into the car. Mother follows and Issy turns angrily on Jonathan.

  ‘You might have said something,’ she snaps. ‘We may have been saved from making a fool of ourselves.’

  ‘Alex asked me not to. I have to agree the less people that know the better. It’s on a need-to-know basis. If you remember I said I was concerned about Libby. I never mentioned Alex.’

  ‘Bloody need-to-know-basis,’ I scoff.

  ‘Oh dear,’ mumbles mother again.

  ‘Libby, Alex asked…’ Jonathan begins.

  ‘I’m really not interested in anything Alex has to say,’ I snap.

  Issy sighs.

  ‘Oh dear,’ repeats mother.

  ‘Mother, please stop saying, oh dear.’

  ‘Oh dear, I’m sorry, Libby.’

  I sigh.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  ‘Toby has severe commitment issues, Libs,’ Issy crackles through my hotel room telephone. ‘He has no idea about the emotional connection between the sexes, or the natural progression of a relationship. He is just a fuckdick without a dick. He is constantly flirting with other women, why don’t you dump the little shit?’

  Issy had only phoned to say Jamie had called an emergency meeting. The conversation had quickly progressed to her opinions on Toby. I can only seem to think of Alex who is a million miles from being a fuckdick and who I feel sure has a large one, a dick that is. Here I go getting all hot again.

  ‘I wish I knew how I felt Issy. I used to get this churning in my stomach whenever I saw Toby and…’

  ‘It was probably reflux. He has that effect on me.’

  I ignore her.

  ‘But I don’t any more. I know I am still fond of him but that desperation I felt about getting engaged to him seems to have gone.’

  ‘Toby is the vilest man I have ever met.’

  ‘I don’t know if I’d go that far. What about that man who exposes himself in our park every Friday?’

  ‘Yuk, yes I agree he is quite vile, but he is probably providing a service. The old dears living in the home across the way don’t seem to mind, but they have probably not seen a dick for like a hundred years. Okay, Toby is the second vilest man I have ever met. I would very much like to pop his head onto a platter and hand it to you at dinner.’

  ‘What a lovely thought,’ I gush.

  ‘You’re not thinking about Toby are you? I bet you haven’t stopped fantasising about having filthy sex with Alex Bryant, am I right?’

  I sigh.

  ‘I’ve blown it with him. He is very cross with me. I really shouldn’t have interfered. But I really don’t know why he was so cross.’

  ‘No, you shouldn’t bloody interfere. If you had left well alone, Toby could now have been in hospital with concussion. What a shame. And you, no doubt, would have been summoned to the new safe house. Instead, we ruined everything.’

  ‘Issy, you shouldn’t wish things like that on anyone. Anyway, I don’t believe Alex would have seriously hurt Toby. Did you know Alex has a black belt in martial arts?’

  ‘Darling, I’ve read all his books. You’re the one who seems to know nothing about your own client.’

  ‘You shouldn’t wish concussion on anyone, all the same.’

  ‘Well, he is a wanker,’ she mumbles. ‘See you at Jamie’s dinner meeting.’

  I really can’t disagree. In fact, should I have any doubts, I remind myself of just how Toby talks to me. I am not sure why he is here but it surely can’t be because he truly loves me can it? Or maybe it is. After all, he hates countries like this but he came anyway. He also fought Alex for me. At least I think it was for me, but then again, if my memory serves me right, wasn’t it Alex who called Toby out for a fight? Oh dear, I’m beginning to think I need psychotherapy or whoever it is you see when you can’t sort your love life out. Mum bursts in on a cloud of ‘Joy’ perfume. She is wearing the Christian Dior suit that she bought for my cousin’s wedding. A string of pearls dangle at her throat and long sparkly earrings hang from her earlobes.

  ‘It’s not an Oscar’s dinner you know,’ I mumble pulling off my towelling robe.

  ‘I’m not having that Penelope woman think she is the only one who knows how to dress. Talking of which, what do you propose to wear.’

  ‘Ah, actually…’ I stammer.

  She picks up the thin strapped dress I had lain on the bed and gives a disapproving tut.

  ‘You’ll never attract a man like Alex Bryant if you wear clothes from online catalogues,’ she groans, picking it up with two fingers as though a cat had pissed on it.

  ‘My married lover back home happens to adore that dress,’ I say casually as I stroll into the bathroom.

  She pops on her glasses and looks at me over them.

  ‘Well both he and the dress will have to go. What about this?’

  I pop my head
round the bathroom door to see she is holding up a Laura Ashley print dress.

  ‘Yes, fabulous, except the thing doesn’t go over my hips and don’t forget Alex Bryant will not be at this dinner but his lovely fiancée will be,’ I say dryly and grab the catalogue dress which mother quickly snatches off me.

  ‘Exactly, and that is why you have to look drop gorgeous.’

  ‘Drop-dead, gorgeous,’ I correct. ‘And have you forgotten that Alex is livid with me?’

  ‘I haven’t forgotten how he couldn’t keep his hands off you when he first saw you this afternoon, either.’

  ‘I didn’t really notice,’ I say blushing.

  ‘Oh yes you did.’

  She winks at me. Good Lord, she is quite right of course.

  ‘Yes, well this should do it. Try it on. I do believe you have shifted a few pounds. Your bum doesn’t wobble like it used to.’

  Well that’s good news. I am quite surprised to discover she is quite right and the dress does indeed slip over my hips and I look quite amazing in it. If only Alex were going to be at the dinner.

  ‘Perfect, now all you need is some make-up and your hair tied into a neat bun and you will actually look quite presentable.

  ‘You don’t have to sound so surprised.’

  ‘I only wish Alex Bryant was going to be at dinner.’

  I sigh heavily. So do I. I’m not relishing seeing Toby or Penelope but at least I feel a little more confident than I did earlier. Issy is already in the dining room and rushes to greet me, skidding to a stop when she sees my dress.

  ‘Bloody hell Libs, you’re looking fantastic.’

  She looks past me and groans. I turn to see Toby. He gives me a lopsided smile. I attempt to smile back but it feels like my face has been botoxed.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ I ask kindly.

  Issy smirks.

  ‘Grateful I would think,’ she scoffs. ‘It could have been two black eyes couldn’t it Toby?’

  I nudge her in the ribs.

  ‘You don’t have aspirin by any chance? I don’t trust the bloody pharmacies here. Their drugs are probably all spiked with heroin or something. This is a bloody awful country, Libby. I can’t think why you wanted to come here. It’s so hot too. I can barely breathe.’