Private Dancer

by Stephen Leather

  She used the scissors to cut an oblong of cardboard and then she rubbed it between the palms of her hands until it formed a tube. She licked the open end and rubbed it again.

  I watched, entranced. Joy was clearly taking pleasure from the ritual, as if she were preparing to make an offering at a temple.

  When she'd finished, she crumpled one of the tablets into the foil pan and slipped the cardboard tube between her lips. She flicked her lighter and held the flame under the foil. The pieces of tablet began to smoulder and she sucked the smoke through the tube. She inhaled, and took the lighter away, then blew plumes of smoke through her nostrils, her eyes on mine.

  ‘You're crazy,’ I said.

  ‘Crazy for you, Pete,’ she said. She leaned forward and kissed me, blowing the last of the smoke into my mouth. I pushed her down on the bed and she slipped her legs around me.

  Afterwards, I asked her what she wanted to do. She said she wanted to go back home, back to Surin. Sunan was driving down with Bird and several other members of Joy's family and Joy wanted to stay with them for a few weeks. I asked her if she wanted to move into the flat with me but she said no, she didn't think Bruce would want her there. She said she'd already spoken to the manager of the building and he'd agreed to give her most of the deposit back. I said I wanted to give her some money to take back with her but she shook her head. ‘I not want your money, Pete,’ she said. ‘I only want you love me.’

  I lay in the bed with my arms around her and told her that I wanted to give her money so that I wouldn't worry about her.

  ‘Pete, I not go Surin long time,’ she said. ‘I come see you next month, okay?’

  I wanted to ask her not to go, to stay with me, to tell her that even if it meant moving out of Bruce's flat and getting another place to live, I wanted her with me. But I knew that it'd be better for her to spend some time out of Bangkok. There were too many temptations in the city: the bars, her friends, the drug dealers. A few weeks back in Surin would be good for her, and it'd give me time to find somewhere else to live. I was fed up with living with Bruce, anyway, with or without Troy.

  I told Joy I'd get some money from the ATM and arranged to meet her at the German restaurant at eight o'clock.

  SUNAN

  I was furious when I found out what Pete had done to my sister. How dare he hit her? How dare he? What does he think gives him the right to come to our country and slap around a girl half his age? Would he behave like that in England? Of course he wouldn't. The police would put him in prison. I told Joy, I told her straight, Pete was jai dam, black-hearted and she'd be better off without him. She kept saying no, she kept saying he was okay and that he hadn't really hit her hard but that wasn't the point and I told her so. He'd been manipulating her for months, using her, taking what he wanted from her without giving her what she was entitled to.

  If he wanted to treat her as a bargirl, he shouldn't have made such a fuss about her working. He could have paid her bar fine as often as he wanted, slept with her, taken her on holiday, but at least she'd have been earning money. And if he didn't want her to be a bargirl then he should have married her. It's not as if he had a wife or anything. He wanted to have his cake and eat it, whatever that stupid farang expression is.

  Just look at what Joy's done to herself over Pete. She cut her wrists, she had his name tattooed on her shoulder, and now she's tried to hang herself. She doesn't seem to realise the damage she's doing herself. I don't just mean the scars, though they're bad enough, I mean the damage she's doing to her value. Her worth. The bars want pretty, young, fresh girls, they don't want girls with scars or tattoos. Farangs don't like scars or tattoos, they like their girls to have good skin. They don't even like scars from insect bites on our legs.

  I've been trying to get Joy to apply for work in Japan or Hong Kong, or maybe even Canada, but who's going to want to employ a girl with the sort of scars she's got? She's crazy, but it's Pete that's made her crazy. Before she met him she had Park and she worked and she made good money. Okay, she spent a lot on drink and drugs, and she was always too generous with her friends, but at least she was sending money back to Surin for our family. Once Pete got his hooks into her, she stopped sending money to Surin, so our whole family suffered. When Mon died it was me that had to support the family, me. I had to work harder, hustle more, and I got no help from Joy. Now that wouldn't have been so bad if Pete was going to marry Joy and support her, be it in Thailand or in England. Then at least he'd be taking care of her and she could get him to give money to the family. But he left her in a limbo, and our whole family was suffering because of it. And on top of all that, he hits her. He hits her and abuses her so much that she wants to kill herself.

  I thought Joy was dead, I really did. One of the girls from Zombie rang our village and left a message with the old woman who answered the phone, saying that Joy had hanged herself. As soon as I heard what had happened I telephoned Joy's room but there was no answer, so of course I got Bird and my father and our brother and his wife and we all got into the pick-up truck and drove to Bangkok. I was in tears, I was sure she was dead, it'd be just like Joy to kill herself the same way the Mon had done. Mon and Joy were so similar, they looked alike and behaved alike, and I know that Joy came close to killing herself after our mother died. Father was pale with anger, he kept saying he'd kill Pete with his bare hands, and I knew he meant it. Joy was always his favourite, he made no secret of that.

  I didn't tell him about the private detective, that Pete had tried to split up Vernon and me. How dare Pete do that? What goes on between me and Vernon is nothing to do with him. Nothing. What does he think gives him the right to try to screw up my life? Just because he's in a mess, just because he can't handle his own life, he wants to make it difficult for everyone else. I can handle Vernon, so it wasn't a major problem. Same as I can handle Toine in Norway. I bet Toine will still send me money when I'm in America. I'll just tell him that I'm there studying. It'll all work out fine. But no thanks to Pete.

  All the way to Bangkok I was using my mobile phone, calling everyone I knew until the batteries went dead. No one knew for sure what had happened, though several of the girls from Nana had heard that she had hanged herself.

  About two hours outside Bangkok I made Bird stop at a callbox and I rang Joy's room again. She was there. I was so relieved I almost fainted. She explained what had happened, and I told her not to go anywhere. Father started crying when I told him Joy was all right.

  When we got to Bangkok, we all hugged Joy and told her she had to go back to Surin with us. She said that she had to see Pete, that he'd promised to give her some money. Father said he wanted to go with her, but I knew that he wanted to do something to Pete, so I said that he mustn't go. I'd already decided what I had to do. Joy always carried a photograph of her with Pete in the purse she took to work, and while she was in the bathroom I took it. Bird saw me but he didn't say anything. He knew what I was going to do and he just smiled. I told Joy I was going out to buy some medicine and told Bird to make sure she stayed in the room until I got back.

  PETE

  I went back to the flat. Bruce wasn't there and he didn't turn up while I showered and changed so I left a note for him, just to say that Joy was okay. I went to the Thai Farmers Bank near Sukhumvit Soi 8 and withdrew eight thousand baht on my Lloyds Bank Visa card and another seven thousand baht on my Standard Chartered Visa card. Fifteen thousand baht. I wasn't sure how much money I had left in my bank accounts, but I figured I had enough to cover it. Without a regular pay cheque, it wouldn't take long for both accounts to run out, I'd always pretty much spent everything I'd earned. I was going to have to do something about getting a job, especially if I was going to get a place for me and Joy. I'd need a deposit and a month's rent in advance and deposits for the utilities and stuff. I figured I was going to need at least fifty thousand baht up front.

  I had an hour to kill before I was due to meet Joy so I went to Fatso's Bar and had a couple of gin and tonics. Big
Ron rang the bell and so did Jimmy, so that was two free drinks, but I didn't return the favour because I was going to have to take care of my money.

  Nobody mentioned Joy's suicide attempt but I knew it'd only be a matter of time before Bruce started spreading the word. There were no secrets in Fatso's Bar, it wasn't just the bar where everyone knows your name, it was the bar where everyone knew your secrets, from Big Ron's genital warts to Jimmy's cocaine habit.

  The guys were talking about death wishes, and I tried to explain how I'd always had an urge to throw myself off tall buildings. Always had, ever since I was a kid. It wasn't that I wanted to kill myself, that's definitely not the case, but whenever I was high up I always wanted to lean forward and imagine what it'd be like to plunge to the ground.

  When I was at university I joined the parachuting club, just to see what freefalling was actually like, but I'd hated it, hated everything about it, the flight up, the sensation of falling, the landing. But I never lost the urge to jump. Weird. I guess it's a compulsion, but damned if I can explain what it means. I tried explaining it to Big Ron, and he kept nodding and agreeing with me.

  He said that he knew exactly what I meant. Then he said that whenever a girl lay on her back and opened her legs, well, he just had the irresistible urge to dive right in, then and there. He laughed like a hyena and I realised he was taking the piss, as usual.

  I went to the German restaurant to wait for Joy. She was late, but I didn't mind, it gave me the chance to have a few more drinks and get my act together. I'd call Alistair and see if I could convince him to give me my job back. I was sure I could get him to see my point of view. I was a good writer, one of the best, and I had a hell of a track record. I could be an asset to the company, and with Joy back in Surin there wouldn't be so many distractions.

  BIG RON

  Pete was in a right state when he came into the bar, knocking back the gins like there was no tomorrow. He kept rambling on about Joy loving him, that she was different from all the other girls who worked in the bars, that she'd proved that she loved him and that he was going to marry her and take her back to England. Then he started telling us about how he liked to stand at the top of tall buildings and imagine what it was like to throw himself off. It sounded as if he was thinking of killing himself but didn't want to come right out and say it. You know, like calling the fucking Samaritans and talking about the weather. That's what it felt like, anyway. Like he was on the edge and all it was going to take was one small step or push and that'd be it.

  I guess part of the problem is that he's lost his job and doesn't have any money coming in. He hasn't told anyone here that he was sacked, but Bruce filled us in a while back. Doesn't look as if he's looking for a job either, he spends most of his time in the bar or over at Nana Plaza. He looks like shit, he hasn't shaved for days or showered by the look of it. He's a mess, and unless he pulls himself together no-one's going to employ him.

  Thailand can do that to farangs. It lures them in with promises it fails to deliver, beautiful, sexy women, long, hot days, exotic food, smiling faces, but it's all a mirage, it doesn't really exist, and by the time you find that out it's too late, you're heading for the rocks and there's nothing you can do to change your course.

  The guys who survive, guys like Jimmy and Rick and me, we see through the mirage early on and we accept it for what it is. We adapt. Guys like Pete, they believe the illusion, and they keep believing it right up until the moment it destroys them. That's where Pete's heading. Destruction. And Joy's the siren whose song is pulling him towards the rocks.

  PETE

  Joy was more than an hour late. She said that Sunan had arrived in Bangkok with her father and that they hadn't wanted her to come to see me. ‘They very angry you, Pete, but I tell them no problem, I tell them I love you, only one.’

  She looked stunning. She was wearing black Levi jeans and a black T-shirt and as usual she was tottering on chunky high-heeled shoes. I ordered her an orange juice, and when it arrived the waitress looked at the razor scars on Joy's left arm with wide eyes. Joy didn't seem to notice. She never made any attempt to cover up the scars and if anything appeared to want to flaunt them, because more often than not she wore short-sleeved shirts.

  I asked her if she was hungry but she shook her head and said she'd already eaten. I realised that was probably why she was late, she'd gone out for dinner with her family. I felt a flare of anger but just as quickly I decided that I was being unreasonable. She hadn't seen Sunan or her father for some weeks, it was only natural that she'd want to spend time with them.

  I told her what I planned to do, that I'd move out of Bruce's apartment and get a place for just the two of us, and she grinned. ‘Ching ching?’ she asked. Was I serious?

  I told her that I was, that I wanted to marry her and take care of her.

  ‘Maybe I not go to Surin,’ she said. ‘Better I stay in Bangkok with you.’

  I told her no, that it'd be easier if she was away for a few weeks, plus I thought that it would be good for her to be with her family for a while.

  ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I do for you.’

  I told her the story of Mary and her cat. She listened seriously, from time to time asking me to explain words that she didn't understand. When I finished she reached over and held my hands. ‘Pete,’ she said, ‘I not same your friend's cat. I not need a second chance.’

  I was so pleased she'd understood the moral of the story that I didn't point out that it wasn't a second chance she was getting, she'd used up her second chance months ago.

  I paid the bill and we went outside. I held her in my arms and she looked up at me with her big, trusting eyes. I kissed her and then buried my face in her hair and hugged her, so tightly that she gasped. I loved her more than I'd ever loved anyone in my life. She was my life. Right there and then I'd have died for her. I tried to tell her how I felt, I tried to put the feelings into words, but Joy just laughed.

  ‘Pete, you drunk,’ she said, but I wasn't.

  I said I'd get her a taxi but she said I should go first. She kissed me again and said that she loved me. I told her I'd phone her in Surin the next day. And the next. And every day until she got back to Bangkok. Tears welled up in her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. I suddenly remembered the money and I took it out of my back pocket and gave it her. Then I waved down a motorcycle taxi and negotiated a price to get back to Soi 23.

  Joy stood on the pavement watching me go. As I turned the corner, she blew me a kiss.

  SOMCHAI

  Poonsak already had the engine ticking over when the farang came out of the restaurant. Sunan had given us a photograph so there'd be no mistake, but I didn't need to check it. It was him all right. I tapped Poonsak on the shoulder and he nodded. We were both wearing full face helmets just in case we were seen. Poonsak had stolen the bike and put false plates on, and once the job was done we'd dump it and set fire to it.

  I'd worked with Poonsak more than a dozen times, he was reliable and never panicked. I was with one guy once, much younger than Poonsak, and when the gun went off he damn near crashed the bike. Poonsak's as solid as a rock.

  The farang and Joy stood together in front of the restaurant, talking. Joy stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek and he stroked her hair. How romantic. Poonsak said something but I couldn't hear what it was over the noise of the traffic.

  The farang gave her something and she put it in her pocket. Probably money. Farangs are always giving money to Thai girls, but I've never understood why. Do they think they can buy love? Impossible. If a girl loves you, she'll give you money, right? Not the other way around.

  The farang flagged down a motorcycle taxi and spoke to the rider. It was hard to see clearly from where we'd parked the bike, but it looked as if Joy was crying. I wondered if Sunan had told her what we were going to do. She hadn't said, and I hadn't asked. But Sunan had insisted that Joy wasn't near by when we did it.

  I've killed twenty-eight people, but this would be my f
irst farang. Because it was a farang, I'd raised my price, to ten thousand baht, double what I normally charged. Sunan had agreed to pay without any bargaining, half in advance, half when the job was done.

  The farang climbed on to the back of the bike and waved goodbye to Joy. I tapped Poonsak on the shoulder. He put the bike in gear and headed down Soi 4 to Sukhumvit Road. We knew where the farang was going. Sukhumvit Soi 23.

  I put my hand inside the jacket and touched the butt of my gun. There were six cartridges in the clip, but unless something went wrong I'd only use three. One to bring him down. One in the heart. One in the head.

  VERNON

  I couldn't believe it when I heard what had happened to Pete. Unbelievable. I know how bad the traffic is in Bangkok and how dangerous it can be using motorcycle taxis, but you never expect it to happen to somebody you know. At least he didn't suffer. According to Sunan it was all over in a matter of seconds and Pete probably didn't even know what hit him. It was a cement truck, Sunan said, and the driver was high on amphetamines. The guy ran a red light and hit Pete's motorcycle side on. Joy was totally distraught, of course. Hasn't stopped crying since, Sunan said. The family hasn't left her alone because apparently Joy keeps threatening to kill herself, says she can't bear to live without him. I wanted to go over to the funeral, but Sunan said he'd been cremated and his parents had taken the ashes back to England. There was no autopsy or inquiry or anything, but Sunan said the driver would probably be charged with manslaughter.