Private Dancer

by Stephen Leather

  ‘What about your bag? Your make-up? Underwear?’

  ‘Not have. When I stay room Sunan, I wear her clothes. Use her make-up.’

  It was weird. She was going back to Surin without so much as a toothbrush. I knew she travelled light - we'd spent four days travelling around Isarn and she'd only had a carrier bag with a couple of shirts and a wash-kit - but it didn't make sense that she had no clothes or stuff to take back. I told her that I wanted to use the bathroom. I didn't, I just wanted to make sure that there wasn't anyone hiding there. There wasn't, and there were only two toothbrushes on a shelf on the wall.

  On the way out I looked down at the shoes and sandals outside the door. I tried to remember how many pairs there'd been before. I wracked my brains but couldn't recall. But I had a feeling that there was a pair of men's flip flops missing. Was that what had happened? Had there been a man in the room, and had Joy wanted me to go away so that he could get out? And if there had been a man there, who was he? None of this made any sense to me. She was staying in Surin, she was doing everything I asked of her, surely she couldn't have someone else in Bangkok?

  We went back to the main road in silence. I didn't know what to say to her. If there had been a man in the room, then she was lying to me. If there hadn't been a man there, then I was being foolish. Either way the evening had been totally spoiled. Joy was going to back to Surin knowing that I didn't trust her.

  She flagged down a taxi and told the driver that we wanted to go to the bus station. ‘What about Sunan?’ I asked.

  ‘Sunan stay Bangkok with Bird.’

  Bird drove Sunan's Toyota pick-up truck and Sunan gave him a few thousand baht a month. I'd seen him a few times and didn't know what to make of him. He rarely smiled and never spoke to me, usually he didn't even acknowledge my presence. Joy had said that he was jealous of farangs because they had money and he didn't. I felt suddenly sorry for Joy. She was going to be stuck on a bus all alone for eight or nine hours, then she'd be staying in Surin without Sunan or her friends until I came back. I was treating her like a piece of furniture, putting her into storage until I needed her again. I wished that I could take her to London with me.

  She was looking out of the window and she didn't turn around when I slid my hand on to her thigh. ‘I'm sorry, Joy,’ I said.

  ‘I sorry too,’ she said.

  ‘Why? Why are you sorry?’

  ‘Because you not happy.’ She finally turned to look at me, then leaned over and kissed me, on the cheek, close to my lips. I put my arm around her and stroked her hair. She smelled fresh and clean and new. ‘I wish you could come to London with me,’ I said.

  ‘I want go with you,’ she said. ‘I want go everywhere with you.’

  The bus station was packed, and I appeared to be the only farang there. There were scores of buses and queues everywhere. Hardly any signs were in English and I couldn't see any departure times. People kept looking at Joy and me with undisguised curiosity. I wondered whether they automatically assumed that she was a bargirl.

  Joy didn't seem to be aware that we were being stared at and talked about. She went over to a line of booths and talked to an old woman behind a glass screen above which were several lines of Thai writing and the letters VIP. Joy handed over a couple of banknotes and came back with a ticket.

  ‘I go VIP bus,’ she said. ‘VIP bus has aircon.’ A Thai teenager came up and spoke to Joy. ‘He take us to bus,’ she said. We followed the youngster to a bus which was already three-quarters full.

  I asked Joy if she wanted a soft drink or some food to take on her journey and she said no, she'd probably sleep all the way to Surin. I wanted to hug her and kiss her but Thais don't show their feelings in public and I didn't want everyone on the bus to see her in the arms of a farang. ‘Joy, you know I love you,’ I said.

  She nodded seriously. ‘I know, Pete.’

  ‘You'll be okay in Surin?’

  ‘Not okay. I miss you too much, but I do for you.’

  I felt ashamed that I'd doubted her. If she didn't love me, there'd be no point in her going to Surin. She could earn much more than the paltry ten thousand baht I was giving her. And she'd obviously be much happier in Bangkok with her friends than stuck in a village in Isarn. I took out my wallet and gave her five thousand baht. ‘Buy something for your family,’ I said. I didn't like giving her money, certainly not in view of the gawping passengers, but I couldn't think of any other way of showing her how much I cared. She took it and slipped it into the back pocket of her jeans.

  We both jumped as the bus driver sounded his horn. She gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and then scampered up into the bus. She got a seat at the back and the last thing I saw as the bus pulled out was her waving and blowing kisses at me through the window.

  JOY

  I was so annoyed at the way Pete behaved. I told him I didn't want him to go to Sunan's room, but he kept on insisting. What was I supposed to do? He practically pushed me into the taxi. I wanted to cry but I kept looking out of the window so he wouldn't see my tears. I thought about taking him to another room, maybe Apple's or Cat's, but I'd already said Sunan was there so if he hadn't seen Sunan he'd have known I hadn't taken him to the right room. I don't understand why he didn't just do as I asked. We could have said goodbye at the restaurant and everything would have been just fine. You see, I wasn't sure if Park would be in Sunan's room or not. He'd said that he was going to go and see his friends in Nana Plaza but when I left him to go and see Pete he was still asleep.

  We'd arranged to get the late bus so I knew he'd be back before midnight, and there's no telephone in the room so I couldn't call first. I felt so trapped, it was like Pete was pushing me into a corner, trapping me.

  When we got to the house I rushed upstairs and spoke to Sunan. Yeah, Park was there. I called him all sort of names through the door: if he hadn't been so lazy then Sunan could have just tidied his things away and then we could have let Pete in. Sunan was telling me to get Pete away from the door so that Park could get out, but Pete wouldn't move. He was so rude, he just sat there and waited. Then it all got really stupid, because Sunan told Park he'd have to go out of the bathroom window. He climbed up on an upturned bucket and Sunan pushed, but the window wasn't quite big enough and he could only get half-way through. Sunan started giggling and even Park saw the funny side, but I was in the hallway with Pete and I didn't think it was amusing at all. If Pete caught Park in the room, he'd stop sending me money, and then where would we be?

  After five minutes of pushing and pulling, Park realised that he wasn't going to be able to get through the window, so Sunan told me to take Pete outside. I said that he wouldn't go but Sunan said we didn't have a choice. The main window in the room was welded shut and the door was the only way in and out.

  Pete grew more and more impatient, and all I could say was that Sunan was tidying up. I could see that he didn't believe me, but what could I do? I could hardly drag him away, could I? Eventually he got really annoyed and told me that he didn't trust me. He stormed off. I went after him, but he was really angry. Why are farangs so quick to lose their temper? It's as if they don't have any control over their emotions.

  I didn't know what to say to him to calm him down. I stood in the alley and waited to see what he'd do. I know he loves me, and whenever he's been angry before he's always come back, so I just waited. Sure enough, after a few minutes he walked back to the house and asked me if I still loved him. What did he expect me to say? ‘No Pete, I hate you.’ Is that what he expected me to say? And then what would happen? He'd get all upset and I wouldn't get any more money. It's such a stupid question. A Thai man would never ask his wife if she loved him. And a Thai woman would never ask her husband, either. It's one of the most pointless questions a person can ask. If someone stays with you, then of course they love you. If they don't love you, they'd just leave. It's obvious, isn't it? Well, it's obvious to me, but it doesn't seem to be obvious to farangs.

  Anyway, he came back and t
hat was all that mattered. I figured that by then Park would have gotten out of the room so I told Pete it would be all right to go back. Sure enough, he'd gone, though I could see Pete looking at the shoes outside the door and I wondered if he'd noticed that Park's sandals had gone. Sometimes Park can be really stupid. He should have left his sandals where they were, but I suppose he didn't think. He'd taken his things with him but he'd taken my bags too so I had to tell Pete that I'd been wearing Sunan's clothes while I'd been in Bangkok. Pete kept looking around the room like he was a detective looking for clues. I mean, what more did he want? I'd let him into the room, I'd done as he'd asked, and he still wasn't happy. I was just glad that Sunan had taken all the photographs down. Park was in most of them.

  He took me to the bus station. Before we went I told Sunan to tell Park to go to Surin the following day. It meant I'd have to suffer the bus ride on my own but I couldn't take the risk of Pete seeing him at the bus station. He might have recognised him from Nana Plaza.

  I made sure I waved to Pete as the bus left because I know that farangs like long goodbyes. They're not the same as Thais, Thais just say goodbye and that's it, we don't make a big thing of it, but farangs want lots of kisses and waves and promises that they won't be forgotten. I gave Park hell the next day when he got to Surin, told him he was stupid to have hung around Sunan's room. I wasn't really angry, in fact we both saw the funny side of it, him hanging halfway out of the window and Pete sitting outside the front door with a face like thunder. We started laughing and we ended up telling everybody in the village what had happened. Yeah, I guess it was funny.

  I'd talked to Park about going back to Surin when Pete first suggested I give up working at Zombie. He wasn't very enthusiastic, but I thought it was a really good idea because it would get Park away from the temptations of Nana Plaza. He worked as a DJ in Spicy-a-go-go three or four nights a week and the rest of the time he hung around the Plaza with his friends, and I know he was always chatting up other girls. I used to give him hell but he'd slap me and tell me that what he did was his own business. I used to cry and tell him how much I loved him, and once I cut my wrists to show him how unhappy I was, but he didn't seem to care how I felt.

  Anyway, when Pete offered me ten thousand baht a month to stop work, I told Park it was too good an opportunity to pass up. Park started moaning about not wanting to leave his friends in Bangkok, but I said that we could keep coming back to visit. A bus ticket was only a couple of hundred baht and so long as I was in Surin when Pete phoned we could do what we wanted the rest of the time. He said that ten thousand baht wasn't enough for him to give up work and that really annoyed me because the most he ever earned was three thousand baht a month. I paid the rent, I gave him money for drink and cigarettes and I bloody well paid for his motorcycle. I didn't say that to his face, of course, because he'd only have slapped me, I just smiled sweetly like I did with farangs in the bar and say that once we'd moved to Surin I'd tell Pete that I needed more money. Pete had a good heart, if I asked for more I'd get it. Besides, it wouldn't be for ever. A few months, then Pete would be back in Thailand and I'd tell him that I wanted to be near him in Bangkok.

  PETE

  I barely slept the night that Joy went to Surin. I couldn't get the image of the shoes from my mind. The shoes lined up outside the door to Sunan's room. Men's shoes. And the way Joy had behaved didn't make sense, not if she was being truthful, not if she really loved me. Her actions only made sense if she was lying to me. I wanted to believe that she loved me, I wanted to believe it more than anything in the world, but I could still picture the hard look in her eyes as she refused point blank to let me into the room. Why? Why? Why? I could think of only one explanation - there was somebody in there she didn't want me to see. Husband? Boyfriend? Images of Joy with a Thai man haunted me all night.

  I got up just after dawn. Three cleaners were sitting in the corridor outside my door, chattering away. I opened the door and asked if they minded being quiet and they all smiled at me. They were passing around a bag of dried fish and one of the women held it up to me. I shook my head and closed the door. They started talking and laughing again as I went through to the bathroom and showered. I couldn't get Joy out of my mind. I kept picturing the way she'd cover herself with a towel after she'd showered, taking great care to conceal her body from me, despite the fact that there wasn't a part of her that I hadn't seen, hadn't caressed, hadn't kissed. Was there someone else who knew her body as well as I did? Someone else who shared her bed? Someone with her, in Surin?

  It was crazy to torture myself like this, I knew, but knowing and stopping were two completely different things, and I knew that my imagination would torture me all the more once I got back to England. There was only one way of putting my mind at rest. I'd have to get someone to go and check on her. I couldn't do it, there were hardly any farangs in Isarn, and my Thai wasn't anywhere near good enough for me to start asking questions.

  There were two firms of private detectives advertising in the Bangkok Yellow Pages. I phoned the first one but couldn't get any sense out of the woman who answered the phone. She couldn't understand my Thai and didn't appear to be able to speak English. I kept flicking through my dictionary to find the words for investigate and detective but eventually she lost patience with me and put the phone down. Typical Thailand. The advertisement for the second firm listed personal identity checks as one of the many services it offered, which included translations, visas and marriage papers. The woman who answered spoke really good English and once I'd explained what I wanted, she told me that Kuhn Phiraphan would definitely be able to help me.

  His office was in a tower block off Suriwong Road, a stone's throw from Patpong. It seemed to be quite a large operation, there was a big reception area filled with chrome and leather furniture and an efficient receptionist who gave me a glass of iced water as soon as I sat down. I thought Phiraphan might start playing power games with me and have me wait for an hour so before seeing me, so I was pleasantly surprised when after ten minutes the receptionist said that he was ready and took me down a long corridor.

  Phiraphan was in his late forties wearing a three piece pinstriped suit and thick horn-rimmed glasses. His handshake was firm and dry and he waved me to a seat opposite his shiny black desk. I explained how I'd met Joy, and the financial arrangement I'd made with her. He steepled his fingers under his chin as I talked and he watched me over the top of his glasses with unblinking brown eyes. Initially I was a little embarrassed at baring my soul, but he didn't smile or say anything, he didn't even take notes, he just listened impassively. I told him about my suspicions, the fact that she wouldn't let me see her room, the fact that sometimes she wouldn't stay the night, the feelings I had that she wasn't being completely honest with me.

  Phiraphan waited until I'd finished, then he took a slim gold pen and made some notes on a yellow legal pad. He started asking questions. About Joy. Her family. Her job at Zombie. Her friends. I wanted to ask how much it would cost, but I didn't get the chance. The questioning went on for almost fifteen minutes. ‘Do you have a photograph?’ he asked.

  I handed over half a dozen colour prints that I'd taken when I'd visited Joy's house with Bruno. There were photographs of Joy, Mon and Sunan, and of the house. I also gave Phiraphan a piece of paper on which I'd written Joy's address in Thai, and the number of the phone in Surin.

  ‘Do you think you'll be able to help?’ I asked.

  ‘Absolutely,’ he said, examining the photographs one by one. ‘I have worked on many such cases.’

  ‘For farangs?’

  ‘Oh yes. If she has a husband or boyfriend, I will be able to find out for you. Guaranteed.’

  ‘How much would it cost?’ I asked.

  He looked at me and I almost laughed out loud because he had the same glint in his eye that Joy had had when I'd asked her how much money she'd need to stop work. I was being weighed up by the detective, the price he was going to quote had more to do with what he thought
I could afford rather than what the job was worth. That was par for the course in Thailand, and I'd dressed accordingly. I figured I was less likely to get ripped off if I wore a sweatshirt and jeans and my old Reeboks.

  ‘You must understand, such an operation will not be easy,’ he said. He picked up the piece of paper I'd given him. ‘I know this village, it is close to the border with Cambodia and is a dangerous place. Strangers will always be noticed. I must be very cunning.’

  I nodded.

  ‘I will have to drive up with two associates. It may take us several days.’

  I nodded again.

  ‘I think such an operation would cost fifty thousand baht.’

  Ouch. That was about twice what I thought it was going to cost. I asked if there was any chance of a discount, and he shrugged. I offered twenty five thousand baht and we settled on thirty thousand. I'd brought twenty thousand baht with me so I took it out and gave it to him, with the promise that I'd send the rest when I got his report. He stood up and shook my hand and then ushered me to the door.

  The next day I caught a British Airways flight to London.

  JIMMY

  I gave Rick and Matt a piece of my mind, I can tell you. I was livid. Bloody livid. They'd both told me that the geezer was the best screw they'd ever had. Fucked like a bunny on E, they said. A guaranteed three hole fuck who kept coming back for more. Jesus, if you can't trust your mates, who can you trust, hey? I went into Zombie and bar fined the geezer, bought her a few drinks to loosen her up, then took her back to the flat. She showered, I showered, everything's hunky dory. I climb into bed with her, and we get down to business. Great kisser, lots of tongue, lots of enthusiasm. She goes down on me and gives me a blow job to beat all blow jobs. So far so good. She licks my arse, sucks my balls, runs her nails down my legs, drives me crazy. Like I said, no one knows what a guy wants better than another guy. So I pull her up and flick her over on to her back. She rolls over, says she prefers it from behind, but I want to kiss her while I'm screwing her so I keep her on her back. I put my hand between her legs and fuck me, what do I find but a dick. A fucking dick.