by Mark Green
‘Not yet, but I’m working on it,’ she murmured.
• • •
Maddie swept her eyes up at the vast grey-steel lattice structure that supported the green tinted glass roof. She rotated her gaze down, slowly surveying the airport’s vast utilitarian concourse, stifling a yawn by sipping a frothy takeaway latte. A mini-injection of caffeine with every taste – lifesaver.
‘Come on, Maddie – keep up,’ muttered Rupert.
Maddie shuffled forwards in the queue, wheeling her Samsonite suitcase up to his side. Her gaze returned skywards to the building’s construction. A plane climbed overhead beyond the glass roof, undercarriage disappearing into its belly as it banked sharply.
The queue shuffled forwards. Maddie remained fixated on the plane.
Destination predetermined …
‘Madeline!’ Rupert hissed, snatching her arm and dislodging the takeaway cup’s lid, sloshing warm coffee over her wrist and thigh.
‘Oh, great.’ Maddie let go of her suitcase, placed the cup on top of it and shook droplets off her hand. She tried to wipe the dark liquid away from soaking into her dress, pausing to glare at Rupert, just in time to catch the tail end of his serves you right sneer. She removed a Kleenex from her shoulder bag and dabbed at her dress, trying to mop up the coffee. No chance.
Maddie lifted her eyes to gaze randomly around the airport concourse as she pressed the tissue into the stain. Other women stood queuing alongside their partners. Some looked preoccupied, or bored, others seemingly present yet appearing lost. But engaging in life …? Probably not.
A movement and dash of colour. Faster than the other shuffling figures, this traveller looked frantic. Liz sprinted across the concourse in a lumbering motion, her cumbersome backpack jiggling and swaying like a sporadic pendulum, flashing intermittent glimpses of her red and white polka-dotted bandanna. She skidded to a halt at the last check-in desk, a dozen queues away. Maddie’s eyes narrowed. Awareness of other activity around her slowed to half-speed as she noticed three things in quick succession:
Only three passengers in front of Liz at her check-in queue.
The currency exchange booth’s illuminated sign, at the far end of the concourse.
Her heart had instantly begun pounding on her chest cavity – LET ME OUT!
‘I’m – going to – the – ladies,’ Maddie stammered. She turned, made to hurry away, jerked to a stop by Rupert’s hand shooting out to grasp her arm.
‘There’s toilets after check-in.’
‘I can’t wait.’
Rupert exhaled noisily. He released her arm and checked his watch. ‘Be quick.’
Maddie nodded and yanked on the extendible suitcase handle, rolling its wheels.
‘You don’t need to take your case,’ he said sharply.
She gestured at her coffee-stained dress. ‘I need to change out of this … mess.’
Rupert glared at her. He clenched his jaw, deliberating. ‘Five minutes. Go!’
Maddie turned and marched away, trailing the Samsonite behind her. She hurried through the throngs of passengers, pausing only to glance over her shoulder. Rupert stood facing away from her, preoccupied with his mobile phone. Maddie diverted from her direct route across the concourse to toss her coffee cup in the nearest litter bin.
‘Liz!’ Maddie weaved through the crowds, her suitcase zig-zagging wildly behind, a caffeine-induced grin fixated on her lips. Liz turned at Maddie’s second shout. She beamed and threw her a hug.
‘Hey Maddie, wild night!’
‘I need to talk to you, in the loos – it’s important!’
Liz glanced at the gap opening up in the queue as a passenger cleared the check-in desk ahead of her. ‘Can it wait a few minutes—’
‘No, it’ll be too late – right now, please!’
Liz studied Maddie’s puffy-eyed intensity for a moment, then nodded. She stepped to one side to look around the passengers in front of her and gestured to attract the attention of the check-in clerk. ‘Excuse me, sorry. I need to go to the bathroom – how long do I have?’
‘Five minutes, ten at the most. You’ll have to hurry—’
‘Great, thanks – please don’t close, I’ll be right back!’ Liz grabbed Maddie’s hand, turned to scan the concourse for the WC signs, then ran with her glamorous new friend as fast as their baggage would allow.
• • •
‘Why can’t we get a tuk-tuk?’
Barry pressed the lid back on his tobacco tin, the thin roll-up waggling between his lips as he spoke. ‘Cos walking is healthier.’
‘Says the man polluting his lungs.’
‘The soul, Jody, is what we’re exercising this morning. Bangkok is waking up. We get to save our wallets and stretch our imagination—’
‘You can go walkabout later, I’m getting a ride. You’re welcome to join me.’
Barry watched Jody stomp across the pavement to a tuk-tuk parked up in a side street. She gave the flimsy canopy struts a shove, rousing the young Thai driver who’d been curled up asleep on one of the bench seats.
‘This is your dollar?’ Barry called out, lighting his roll-up.
Jody shrugged off her backpack and shoved it into the rear seating area. ‘S’pose so, tight arse.’
‘Sweet. I’ll reimburse you with my first royalty cheque.’
‘Like I’m ever gonna see that. You coming?’
Barry chuckled, sauntered over to the tuk-tuk and offered his open hand to the driver. He removed the roll-up from his mouth with his other hand, gesturing for the driver to take a toke. ‘Name’s Barry.’
‘Me, Scoot.’
‘Scoot? Cool name. You fastest tuk-tuk in Bangkok?’
Scoot grinned. ‘In Thailand! Much speed. Where you go?’
Barry flicked both his palms over and held them out to the side. ‘Farang central, Scoot – the one and only Khoa San Road. My girl here needs a soft bed and a stiff … drink. So don’t spare the dingo power.’
Scoot took a pull on the roll-up, then handed it back, his pupils dilating. He grinned. ‘You want fast, yes?’
‘Always – punch it!’ Barry tossed his backpack onto the floor opposite Jody, lay a protective hand over the soft padded camera case hanging from a strap around his shoulder, and climbed into the tuk-tuk.
Jody reached out, plucked the smoking stub from Barry’s fingers and took a puff, savouring the sensation. ‘You gave our driver a happy smoke?’
‘For sure. Keeps the price reasonable and accident damage treatable.’ Barry winked at her and settled back on the bench seat opposite, trailing his arms along the backrest, a lopsided, gappy-tooth grin spreading across his unshaven face.
The uneven two-stroke rumbled into life with a metallic popping sound. Scoot twisted the throttle, catapulting the tuk-tuk out onto the main road, trailing oily smoke. He steered into an impossibly small gap between a taxi and flatbed truck spilling grain from wafer-thin sacks, amidst blaring horns and screeching brakes.
‘Barry, you’re a moron!’ yelled Jody, clenching onto the seat slats with rigid fingers.
‘When in Bangkok, babe!’ he sniggered, clasping the camera case on his lap. He carefully unzipped it, his body swaying with the motion of Scoot’s erratic steering. ‘It’s all about the ride!’
Barry whooped, lifting his bulky SLR digital camera, removing the lens cap and zooming in on Jody’s wide-eyed – impact imminent – grimace. ‘Smile like you mean it!’ he shouted, pressing down on the shutter release button.
• • •
Maddie hurried past the toilet cubicles, heading for the row of sinks. She turned to face Liz, ignoring the other passengers filtering past, and took a deep unsteady breath, while simultaneously pulling strands of sweaty hair away from her eyes. ‘How much to buy your traveller’s life?’
‘Living with my folks and a crappy admin job? You can have it for free.’
‘Not that home life, this one.’ Maddie pointed to Liz’s battered backpack. ‘Boots, clothes and a fo
ur-week travel itinerary – everything. My suitcase and cash in exchange. How much?’
Liz stared at Maddie. ‘You calling his bluff …?’
‘That, a double dare, or just a bloody-minded stupid whim – all crazy. But who cares – I’m twenty-friggin’-six years old!’
‘Attagirl! You got more designer stuff in there?’ Liz pointed at Maddie’s Samsonite case.
‘All the top brands, worth thousands! I’ll swap the lot for a taste of proper travelling. You said it, Liz, I’ve already done the expensive bit, getting here.’
Liz glanced down at her watch, then stared at Maddie. She seemed to be mentally recalling all the important items in her backpack. ‘I’ve got a few presents, some personal stuff. Those aside … I don’t know, maybe two hundred quid?’
‘Done! Swap your stuff over – I’ll be back with the money in less than three minutes.’
‘Eeeeek!’ they screeched in unison, hugging quickly before Maddie broke off, thrust her suitcase keys into Liz’s palm, then sprinted out of the bathroom as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her.
Five
The bored currency exchange clerk perked up at Maddie’s flustered arrival. She processed the card payment and beamed as she counted off two hundred pounds in sterling. Maddie thanked her, grasped the debit card to yank it out of the keypad, then froze.
Idiot!
Twenty dollars a day, for thirty days is—
‘Could I also have six hundred in US dollars, please?’ she stammered, snatching short panting breaths while simultaneously clenching and opening her shaking, clammy hands.
Maddie burst back into the ladies washroom clutching the currency. Liz glanced up from her crouching position on the floor, hurriedly sifting through a pile of clothes, toiletries and travel paraphernalia emptied from her backpack.
‘This is insane – I love it!’ Liz squealed. She shoved three plastic bags of presents on top of the neatly folded clothes in Maddie’s open suitcase, then began stuffing her clothes and other random items back into the rucksack.
‘Two hundred pounds, as agreed!’ Maddie thrust the notes into Liz’s hand, then removed her shoulder bag and emptied the contents into a nearby sink. She removed everything of personal value: passport, purse, address book and mobile phone, cradling them in her twitchy hands. ‘Help yourself to anything left. You’re welcome to the shoulder bag too,’ she said, fighting back a surreal feeling of detachment; that weird sensation of standing outside her own body, looking down. She frowned at the sound of her voice, echoing eerily around the tiled washroom.
‘You want to keep anything?’ asked Liz.
Maddie remained rigid, her mouth open, staring off into the distance.
‘Maddie – you with me?’
She blinked rapidly. ‘Yes, sorry. Of course.’ She refocused on the Samsonite case, her heart pounding, hesitating as she tried to recall all the contents. ‘Only my toiletries bag and swimsuit.’
‘Coolio. We keep our underwear and swap everything else?’
‘Agreed!’ Maddie yanked open the nearest cubicle and leaned back against the door, hyperventilating.
Okay – I can do this …
Maddie kicked off her Nicolas Kirkwood graffiti sandals, nudging them under the cubicle partition. Then she pulled her Alexander McQueen Obsession dress over her head, folding it neatly, her whole body trembling as she stooped down and passed it to Liz’s waiting hands.
‘Woo-hoo, cheers! Sooo soft … two secs.’
‘Wait! I spilled coffee down it, pick another dress from the suitcase—’
‘No time, too much choice!’
Maddie jiggled in her French silk underwear, doing a silly flappy-arm chicken routine to combat the chilly air conditioning.
‘Here!’ Liz shoved her scrunched-up clothes under the partition.
Maddie held up the crumpled jean-shorts, blinking rapidly.
Can’t do this!
‘How you doing? Gotta hustle!’
Can’t NOT do this! Okay … this, is, reality!
Maddie wriggled her hips into Liz’s faded shorts, pulled on the thick socks and hiking boots, then slipped the crumpled tee-shirt over her head. She wrenched the cubicle door open.
‘Whoa!’
Maddie glanced past Liz’s startled grin and stared at her own reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks puckered, oxygen sucked from her lungs.
Can’t do this – can’t do this – can’t—
Liz leapt in front of Maddie’s reflection. ‘I gotta bounce, pronto!’ Liz swiped her red and white polka-dotted bandanna from her head and pressed it into Maddie’s hands. ‘Let’s hustle!’
Liz scanned the contents of the sink. She delved through the extensive make-up, then glanced at Maddie, who briefly broke away from staring in the mirror to nod. Liz scooped everything from the sink into the shoulder bag.
‘Ready?’ said Liz, searching for reassurance in their joint reflections.
Maddie flicked her eyes at her pale, painted-mannequin reflection. Doubt flinched in her eyes.
‘Five seconds!’
Maddie gulped, dropped her gaze to the sink top. She yanked open the shoulder bag that had been hers less than five minutes previously, and rummaged through the contents. She clutched a wet wipe and hastily removed her artificial pigment, splashing cold water over her face to complete the transition. ‘Okay, I’m ready—’
‘Go, go, GO!’
Liz hoisted the backpack onto Maddie’s shoulders, then grabbed her hand and began dragging her and the suitcase towards the washroom’s exit. ‘Jeez, this thing weighs a ton.’
Maddie slowed, glanced over at the row of mirrors. She gasped at her new scruffy clothes, shooting a look at Liz’s reflection, elegant and sophisticated in her dress. ‘I’m not sure about this, it’s—’
‘Too late!’ Liz hauled Maddie out into the throng of passengers, threading through them as they legged it across the departure hall.
• • •
‘Not exactly salubrious, is it?’ Jody swept her listless eyes around the grubby room, its peeling grey paint, small double bed and shabby bedside cabinet. ‘There’s not even any hanging space.’
‘For your clothes, or suicidal travel buddies?’ said Barry with a lopsided grin.
‘It’s horrible.’
‘It’s cheap. Leaves more stash for the fun stuff.’
Jody shrugged off her rucksack and leant down to prod the mattress.
‘Soon as you shut your eyes you won’t care how shabby chic it is, you’ll just be happy to get your head down. I’ll see you later.’
‘Where’re you going?’
‘The light’s great. Gonna find some shades, snap some strangers.’ Barry propped his backpack against the far wall and adjusted the shoulder strap on his camera case. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of hours, take you out for lunch.’
‘But we’ve just got here—’
‘Exactly. Sleep for you, stretching the soul for me. We’ll both thank me for it later. Be good, and if you can’t, be enlightened. See ya.’ Barry lowered his head to kiss her, then ruffled her hair, dodged her grabbing hand, opened the door and left the room.
• • •
Maddie leant back against the structural pillar, eyes scrunched shut, focusing on taking deep, calming breaths. Behind her, Liz hurried across the concourse towards the budget check-in desk, thirty yards along from where Rupert stood, five passengers from the front of the line.
Maddie watched as he checked his watch then glanced over his shoulder, scanning the route across the concourse towards the toilets. ‘Where are you, Maddie,’ he muttered. He clasped his suitcase handle until the whites of his knuckles had bleached through his holiday tan, then yanked the case up to the couple stood in front of him. ‘Damn you, Maddie. Don’t you dare screw this up,’ she heard him hiss through clenched teeth.
‘Please, wait!’ gasped Liz, running up to the check-in desk. She heaved the Samsonite suitcase onto the conveyor, just as the clerk switched off t
he overhead illuminated sign. ‘Please … Alma,’ she added, spotting the airline clerk’s nametag.
Alma looked Liz up and down, raised a mildly disapproving eyebrow, then sat back on her seat, punching commands into the computer keyboard. Liz shot a look behind her at the backpack lurking behind a pillar, then spun back round, grinning as she watched Alma label up the suitcase.
‘Gate thirty-seven. You need to hurry.’ Alma pushed Liz’s passport and a boarding card across the desk.
‘Yes ma’am – thank you!’ Liz shot a discreet sideways glance over at Rupert, thirty feet away. She watched him scan the concourse behind her, before turning towards the front of his queue, stepping forwards in line. Liz dashed across behind him, making for the pillar where Maddie loitered.
‘Close one! But hey, two hundred quid and a case full of designer booty happy. You okay?’
‘Uh-huh …’
‘Walk with me to security. Got some stuff to tell you.’
Liz helped her to lift the rucksack onto her back, then linked her arm under Maddie’s elbow, tugging her along at a fast walking pace. ‘Be extra vigilant at night. Don’t accept a drink from anyone unless you’ve seen its entire journey from the barman to your mouth, and never, ever, let that drink out of your sight. Okay?’
She glanced at Maddie who nodded, maintaining a rabbit-caught-in-headlights stare.
‘What’s your phone number?’ Liz asked, rummaging through the shoulder bag, withdrawing her mobile phone.
Maddie rattled off her number, trance-like, while Liz concentrated on typing on the smartphone screen as they walked. Maddie’s phone beeped to acknowledge the new message.
Liz halted by the entrance to passport control and threw her arms around Maddie’s neck, hugging her tightly. ‘You’re a legend! Go find out what life is really all about – okay?’
Maddie opened her mouth. She swallowed, dry and gritty. Her arms trembled, breathing erratic. ‘Can’t – do – this—’
Liz stood back, clasped Maddie’s hands and stared intently into her eyes. ‘Yes. You. CAN. Trust in yourself – good luck!’ Liz squeezed Maddie’s hands, then turned and walked swiftly towards the customs official, holding out her passport and boarding card. Maddie stared after her.