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Thai Girl

Page 25

by Andrew Hicks


  ‘No Ben, not here,’ she protested in a low voice, pulling away and motioning frantically that Jinda could hear them. He reluctantly let her go but felt cheated when, flashing a grin, she threw herself full-length across the bed, her legs spread wide apart. Unable to resist the tightly rounded back pockets of her jeans, he gave chase, leaping onto the bed and pinning her down with all his weight. Astonished she was so strong as she struggled to escape, he was enjoying a sensuous wrestle when the sounds of showering suddenly stopped.

  ‘Ben, Jinda finish already … can hear us,’ hissed Fon breathlessly, rolling out from under him just in time.

  When Jinda came out of the shower, she glanced round with amusement at the flushed faces and bright eyes; it was obvious what had been going on. For Ben it had been a tantalising little taster, but it was all over far too quickly.

  As Jinda was dressing and doing her make-up, he had a moment of panic; Fon was stuffing her clothes into her bag.

  ‘Whatever are you doing?’ he asked her.

  ‘Doing my bag,’ she said.

  ‘You’re not going too?’

  ‘No … put bag in your room. When Jinda go, one room enough.’

  Once again trumpets sounded in Ben’s head. With Jinda gone, could this be it, sharing a room with Fon? He made sure his tongue wasn’t hanging out and tried to keep calm.

  When Fon had left her things on his bed, the two girls paid for their room and they all sauntered out into the street. A short way towards the bus station they parted, Jinda giving them a little wave as if polishing a plate glass window. As she disappeared in the direction of the bus depot, Fon turned and strode purposefully across the road towards an internet shop.

  ‘Go internet,’ she said, as she opened the door and went inside.

  ‘Whatever for?’ asked Ben in surprise.

  ‘Video games,’ she replied, sitting down at one of the few computers not surrounded by a huddle of small boys.

  Ben liked the thought of air conditioning but not of video games. To his dismay, Fon was an addict and sat and played happily for ages. Eventually she began to lose interest.

  ‘We go sing-a-song. You like?’ she asked him.

  ‘Go where?’

  ‘Sing-a-song,’ she said. It could not be karaoke as they had done that already, so Ben guessed it must be some kind of nightclub. It would be fun to see a local club, though he did not want to be out late that night as he had other things on his mind.

  They left the internet shop and went outside onto the dark streets of the town. Around the corner some old men in baggy shorts were huddled half asleep on the cramped back seat of their samlors, old-fashioned tricycles one evolutionary step up from the rickshaw. Fon and Ben climbed into one of them and they slowly moved off, sinewy brown legs laboriously turning the pedals. Down the next street they gathered speed and soon reached the other side of town where they were dropped in an unpaved car park outside a low building. Loud music was coming from a shabby looking nightclub decorated with strings of twinkling white light bulbs.

  A hostess led them into the dimly lit club, half bar, half auditorium, capable of seating perhaps a hundred people. It was almost empty except for a few customers sitting at tables and tarty-looking hostesses hovering in corners. Three girls on stage were making love to a microphone, singing loudly to the empty room.

  ‘God, they look awful,’ said Ben as he sat down and ordered drinks.

  ‘You no like? Not sexy?’

  ‘No, I do not like … they’re gross.’

  The singers were young and fleshy, their faces powdered to an artificial pallor. They wore short frilly skirts in reds and purples and cream tights which Ben thought deprived their legs of any allure.

  When some men wandered in, he noticed that one of them came down from the stage and sat chatting at their table. Then he realised that the only women in the place were singers or hostesses.

  ‘Fon, what is this place?’ he asked her abruptly.

  ‘Sing-a-song.’

  ‘Yes, I know it’s sing-a-song. They sell beer and sing … but what else?’

  ‘What you think?’

  ‘You mean they sell sex?’

  ‘Go together, hotel,’ said Fon looking down at her feet.

  ‘Christ almighty. Do Thai men all do this?’

  ‘Don’t you, Ben?’ she said with half a smile.

  ‘Fon, please! No I do not.’

  ‘Never?’ she probed playfully. ‘Never have sex?’

  ‘With someone I love who feels the same for me, yes of course. But taking a woman for money … not in a million years.’

  It was getting late when they headed back to the hotel, squeezed cosily into the back of the samlor, Ben with his arm around Fon. Passing the hotel reception desk, he now understood how she must feel about the knowing look the girls gave them as they went to his room. Following her inside and closing the door behind them, he tried not to feel too triumphal.

  But once in the room, Ben thought Fon seemed tired and subdued. She did not immediately fall into his arms but rummaged distractedly in her bag, then went into the washroom to brush her teeth, as if playing for time. When she came out again, she said nothing and went and sat on the bed as far as possible from him, her eyes down. Before he could say anything, she looked up, her face severe and unsmiling.

  ‘Okay Ben, I go now,’ she said. ‘Go back Mama’s house.’

  Ben was devastated.

  ‘Why Fon? But what about me?’ he blurted out in dismay.

  ‘You stay here … hotel better.’

  ‘No Fon, please! I’m not going to be left on my own …’

  ‘Small town … everyone see me here,’ she cut in. ‘Men come hotel, bring girl … but not same me. Cannot stay room with you!’

  Ben’s jaw fell open but no words came. Distressed and angry, he did not know whether to plead or cajole. But her claim to respectability was unanswerable and he quickly realised that trying to make her change her mind would be futile and unfair. He watched aghast and could do nothing to stop her when she got up, strode to the door and made a quick getaway.

  As the door slammed behind her, he sat down on the bed in a state of shock. Within seconds his great expectations had turned to total farce. But now Fon had gone and all he could do was to lick his wounds and try to sleep.

  In the shower he began to ask himself what he was doing here anyway, alone in a small town miles from anywhere stuck in this grotty hotel. The place made his flesh creep, it was so seedy. The washroom door refused to shut as it was rotten, a leaking pipe had made the wall mouldy and everything smelt damp and disgusting. Coming out of the shower again he banged his head on the low concrete lintel, but that was not what hurt most of all.

  Sleep proved impossible and he lay face down on the greying bed sheet before trying to read in the feeble light of the bedside lamp. After he had been reading for some time, half falling asleep, he was startled by a loud banging on the door. Now wide awake, he jumped off the bed and threw the door open. To his astonishment, Fon pushed past him into the room, her face dark and furious as he had never seen it before.

  ‘Thought you were going to your mum’s,’ said Ben coldly.

  ‘Wait long time … no have bus,’ she replied, refusing to look at him.

  ‘So what d’you want now?’

  ‘Take shower. Then go stay with friend,’ she said brusquely.

  ‘What friend? Girl or a boy?’ he demanded.

  Fon flashed him a furious glance.

  ‘Girl … but why you want to know?’

  Softening a little, Ben then tried to take her in his arms but she thrust him away.

  ‘You farang … same animal!’ she shouted indignantly.

  ‘No, Fon, that’s not fair … it’s not like that at all.’

  ‘You not touch me then,’ she said, grabbing a towel and retreating into the shower.

  He tried to talk to her over the top of the partition wall but there was no answer, only the sound of cascading wat
er. After an age she came out again, the towel wrapped round her and silently defied him not to look while she dressed. She seemed seriously fired up about something so he sensed he should back off and let her be for a bit. If he could manage to keep quiet, she might calm down.

  But Ben’s heart was too full for him to say nothing at all, so as she finished dressing he begged her not to be so cold and unfeeling. Then, when she spat back something he couldn’t understand, his anger and hurt began to spill over. He did not mean it aggressively when he took her wrist and pulled her towards him, but she resisted him ferociously and broke his grip. Shouting something in Thai, she stormed out of the room, loudly slamming the door behind her.

  Too stunned to follow, Ben slumped onto the bed and put his head in his hands with a feeling of déjà vu and despair. Girlfriends could be challenging, but this time it was all totally beyond him. Thoroughly drained, he was not too sorry things must finally be over for the night, perhaps even forever. When he found himself staring at Fon’s bag, tossed into the corner of the room, he began to feel a little more in control. At least she would have to come back for it the next day.

  His eyes were far too tired to read any more, so he switched off the light and tried to sleep. But the night was long and wakeful, his head churning with all that had happened. Fon’s volatile behaviour was so totally incomprehensible; she had welcomed him to her home and they’d had a lot of fun together, but after being so warm and flirtatious, she’d suddenly dumped on him and pushed off to stay with a friend. Why had it gone so terribly wrong?

  The next morning far too early a loud knocking woke him out of a deep and dreamless sleep. He fell out of bed in a daze and opened the door to find Fon standing there, smiling and unrepentant. She walked past him into the room without a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘Sleep good?’ she asked him sweetly.

  ‘No, like shit,’ said Ben. ‘And you? Where the hell did you go?’

  ‘Sleep okay,’ she replied. ‘Go small hotel … one hundred baht.’

  ‘But you said you were going to a friend’s place.’

  ‘Not meet friend,’ she said meekly.

  As she sat beside him on the bed, her story slowly began to come out.

  ‘After I go away first time, not look bus to Mama’s house. Stay internet shop long time, play video game.’

  ‘Whatever d’you do that for?’ he asked, appalled.

  ‘Cannot trust … I not believe,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Fon, you can trust me, you really can,’ he implored, almost tearful.

  ‘But last night when I shower, you not understand, you angry me … so cannot stay. Then I walk long time … come back here very late, sit outside room, thinking strong. Maybe I knock door, stay with you … but no, impossible, cannot.’

  ‘Why ever not, Fon? Of course you could’ve come in,’ said Ben, tantalised.

  ‘Too dangerous … maybe change my life,’ she said almost inaudibly. ‘So, what I do? Go find small hotel.’

  ‘Fon that’s terrible … you locked outside and me longing for you to be with me.’ The thought was unbearable.

  As they sat side by side on the edge of the bed, Ben put his arms around her and hugged her. This time she did not push him away but looked up at him and smiled.

  ‘Last night, cannot decide. Maybe I wrong … maybe big mistake,’ she said.

  They moved closer together and Ben said nothing in reply.

  Their final day together in the village slipped by easily with walks into the rice fields digging up crabs and with final visits to neighbours.

  The last little intimacy came when Fon pulled out the family photographs to share with Ben. It was a battered and much-loved collection of faded photos of high days and holidays. One picture of Fon in her early teens with a group of village girls caught his eye.

  ‘That’s a pretty kid next to you. Who’s she then?’ The girl had an angelic face and unusually fair skin.

  ‘My friend … same age me,’ said Fon.

  ‘So where did she end up?’

  ‘She go Bangkok, work restaurant. Her Mama sell her when she fourteen.’

  ‘Sell her?’ said Ben, perplexed.

  ‘Yes, they give Mama ten thousand baht. Girl, she have to turn back ten thousand baht working in Bangkok.’

  ‘That’s a hell of a lot to repay out of low wages, isn’t it?’ he asked.

  ‘Too much,’ said Fon quietly. ‘So they make her sell sex.’

  Ben could hardly believe what he was hearing.

  ‘Christ, so young. She should’ve refused and gone home.’

  ‘Cannot! She not yet turn back money … and no have money for bus.’ Fon paused, her face dark. ‘And if she make trouble, they beat her … then she end up dead!’

  Ben looked at the optimistic face of the child gazing out of the photo, her arms around her friends’ shoulders, unaware of what lay ahead. He was lost for words.

  The photos put away, Fon sat on the floor talking with her mother, knowing they would not see each other again for many months. And for the last time Ben savoured the cheeping of baby ducks and chickens and the cacophony of cockerels, geese and pigs, as he petted the muzzle of the Brahman calf that had taken to him like a dog. They ate a final meal sitting round together on the floor and then the time came to take the overnight bus back to the island.

  Parting was a muted affair, Fon’s mother coming outside to see them off and standing around with infinite patience as they gathered their things and boarded the pick-up Fon had chartered into Buriram. There were no hugs and kisses, no heartfelt goodbyes between mother and daughter. Fon and Ben just got into the cab of the pick-up, shut the door and rode away.

  ‘Mama cry inside,’ Fon explained, ‘but no problem … not like I die. She think of me, wait me come back again, maybe six months, maybe one year. Always the same when you leave village … not see Mama Papa, long time.’

  Ben sat squashed in the middle between Fon and the driver, his arm around Fon’s shoulder because there was nowhere else to put it and because they both wanted it there. As the driver did not understand English, they could talk freely about their friendship from the very beginning. They talked of eating and dancing together on the beach and about all the things they had done together around the village. And for Ben, the slow bouncy ride back to Buriram became one of the best moments of the trip as Fon came close to expressing her feelings for him and to saying he was special.

  There was a peaceful glow as they settled into their seats on the overnight bus, relaxed and happy again and confident of their growing friendship. They managed to sleep a little and the journey through the night passed quickly, but as the morning light appeared, they both came down to earth. In the cold light of day, where could it all go from here?

  Ben knew that Fon would now return to her work and responsibilities, he to travelling on alone before flying home to the beginning of the rest of his life. Sitting so close to her, he was afraid his breath smelt bad and he felt too bleary to look her in the face. Staring fixedly out of the bus window, she too seemed to be hit with the same hopelessness. There was little they could say as the bus brought them back to reality, but at last Fon broke the silence.

  ‘What you thinking, Ben?’

  ‘Thinking about everything,’ said Ben.

  ‘About everything?’

  ‘Yes … about you, Fon. About us.’

  ‘Same me, Ben. Me and you … like beautiful dream. Bpen pai mai dai. Impossible.’

  26

  Once on the ferry and no longer confined together on the bus, Ben began to feel a little less dejected. Enjoying the beauty of the islands around Koh Samet and the chain of mountains in the haze towards Cambodia it was hard to be self-obsessed. He noticed too that Fon was regaining something of her usual sparkle. She was going back to her life on the island, to see Joy and all her friends and to the hard discipline of work and responsibility. For him, on holiday with the world at his feet, there was opportunity and choices but none of the
certainty of routine and, for the moment, nothing except loneliness and drift.

  They went and stood together on the bow in the cool of the breeze passing over the boat. The silence between them was interrupted by Fon’s quiet voice.

  ‘Ben, how long you stay Koh Samet?’

  ‘Don’t know.’

  ‘Where you go next?’

  ‘No idea,’ he said miserably.

  ‘Why not, Ben? You lucky, have holiday … can enjoy.’

  ‘It’s not that easy, Fon. I don’t know what to do with myself … and you’re a big part of the problem.’

  ‘Problem? You have problem?’

  The foredeck where they were standing was crowded with German tourists in expensive leisure gear, accompanied by their Thai tour guide. They were a boisterous group, enjoying the view as the boat ran along the island’s coast with its necklace of white beaches. One of them, a big man in his forties was standing at the rail taking video shots and talking loudly with his friends. Ben’s feeling that he was taking a fancy to Fon was confirmed when he stopped filming and came and spoke to her in heavily accented English.

  ‘Which one Pineapple Beach?’ he asked, smiling broadly.

  ‘Ao Sapporot too far … cannot see,’ she said, pointing ahead.

  ‘So you live on the island, uh?’

  ‘Yes, Ao Sapporot … Pineapple Beach. Same you?’

  ‘We’re booked into Montego Resort. Any good?’

  ‘Yes, good … and good you stay same place me!’ said Fon, smiling her most dazzling smile. The man was captivated, Ben mortified.

  ‘You like Thai massage?’ she asked the man.

  ‘Depends who with.’

  ‘With me?’ she purred.

  ‘Ya, good! When can we start?’ he said, rubbing his hands.

  ‘Today, anytime. Make booking.’

  ‘So who’s this,’ he asked her, indicating Ben. ‘This your boyfriend?’

  ‘This Ben … my friend.’

  Ben knew Fon was only trawling for work but her charm, so easy and endearing, was totally wasted on this anonymous jerk. He tried not to feel betrayed but with little success.

 

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