The Travel Mate

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The Travel Mate Page 8

by Mark Green


  ‘Actually I thought I’d sit down, here with you. If that’s okay?’

  ‘Right. Okay … I’ll try to be civil.’

  He pulled a slightly quizzical expression which creased his cheeks. ‘I’m Charlie,’ he said, offering his hand across the table as he crouched down and squeezed his tall frame into the restrictions of the tiny chair.

  Maddie shook hands, straightening up to make eye contact. ‘Hi Charlie, I’m Maddie. You sound like a Brit?’

  ‘Partly. Swedish mother, American dad. I’ve been living in Oxford for the last five years, studying. It’s a confusing, unauthentic accent.’

  ‘Wow. I’ll bet there’s an interesting story, how your folks met.’

  ‘Yes, but I won’t bore you with it. Forgive me, but you don’t seem to be having much fun. Did a friend talk you into coming this evening?’

  ‘That’s either very perceptive, or slightly stalker-ish.’

  ‘People intrigue me, I enjoy playing detective. Some, like you, have amusing mannerisms.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘You dispatched your last speed-mate swiftly. I wonder, what did you say to him?’

  ‘Oh. I think I may have been a tiny bit dismissive. Lack of sleep and alcohol are a bad mix. The most inappropriate stuff just pops out.’

  ‘It happens.’

  ‘Uh-huh, so it seems. What are you studying in Oxford?’

  ‘Engineering, specifically water purification. I’m on a fact-finding tour of Asia.’

  ‘Not a sex tourist? Bugger – you see, this is what happens. It’s why Rupert doesn’t like me drinking …’

  ‘Rupert is your husband?’

  ‘Fiancé. I think.’

  ‘You don’t sound too sure.’

  ‘No. It sort of depends on—’ Maddie waved her hand in the air, twirling her wrist, ‘—stuff.’

  ‘I see.’

  They held eye contact for a moment before Joe-Ho’s voice interrupted, booming through the surround-sound speakers. ‘Gullible Travel mates – it’s time to decide!’

  Charlie toyed with a smile as he picked up the table tennis bat in front of him and flicked his eyes up to meet Maddie’s. ‘At the risk of revealing my hand too early, please be advised …’ he rotated the bat to display a Yes, ‘that I take rejection well.’

  Charlie watched Maddie slowly rotate the handle of her bat between her fingers, flicking back and forth between each response.

  A smile flickered across Maddie’s lips. ‘It’s been a random, unexpected sort of day, so … let’s see what the travel gods decide.’ She stood the top edge of the bat on the table, and teased the handle between her finger and thumb, flicking the different colour luminous fonts. Left, then right.

  Charlie’s eyes twinkled in the spotlight as he hunched over the table, scrutinising the bat’s alternating motion. ‘Tell me, Maddie. If it’s a yes … is your fiancé a big bloke?’

  She shrugged. ‘Maybe you’ll get to find out, maybe you won’t – this is actually quite intriguing.’

  ‘Your curiosity about the possible outcome has surprised you …?’

  Maddie held his gaze. ‘I think it has, yes.’ She flicked her fingers and released the bat, letting it spin. It rotated several times, then wobbled and clattered down on the table. She dropped her eyes from Charlie’s to examine the single word displayed. ‘Now isn’t that interesting …’

  • • •

  Rupert hunched forwards on the tiny wooden chair and wrung his hands together, checking his watch again. Somewhere from the depths of the building a deep powerful bass boomed, resonating through the walls and the floor with a distant, dull throb. He glanced up as the reinforced steel checker plate door swung open, bathing the sparse windowless room with a soft, warm-white pigment.

  ‘Mister Rupert, naughty bear. Please enter,’ Joe-Ho’s voice called out.

  Rupert swallowed. He squeezed his hands together, then leant forwards and stood up, grimacing at the pain in his knees. He tipped the suitcase onto its wheels and trailed it towards the open door, his stomach lurching as if in a freefall skydive – without the luxury of a parachute.

  • • •

  ‘He’s gorgeous,’ whispered Victoria, sinking down into the chair opposite Maddie.

  ‘I hadn’t noticed.’

  ‘Liar. Why’d you turn him down?’

  ‘Oh, it would just get complicated. I’m not really sure about my, um … availability, right now. Can I get you another drink?’

  ‘Sure.’ Victoria slurped the remainder of the cocktail and tapped her glass on Maddie’s empty beer bottle. ‘I’ll have a Chang.’ She glanced up and scowled at Barry, loitering ten feet away, his camera poised.

  Shh-clitch.

  Memory Card 2. Pic 447

  ‘The green-eyed monster prowls, oozing jealousy and mistrust, her cold eyes targeting like a heat-seeking missile, primed with ambiguous lust. For now this interest in him is not replicated, his preferred prey isn’t interested in getting X-rated. That smooth-talking chancer has ideas way above his station, his exaggerated adoration is misplaced in this liberal Asian nation. The subject is uncomfortable with unwanted attention, she senses unfulfilled and ambiguous sexual tension. This newbie hasn’t yet built up her travel armour, time will tell if the pretty boy is a decent bloke, or a snake pit charmer …’

  ‘Where are you heading?’ asked Charlie, sliding a bottle of beer across the table in front of Maddie. He squatted down beside her, ignoring Victoria.

  Maddie glanced away from the nearby camera lens and Barry’s lopsided grin. She glanced at Victoria with an apologetic expression and edged her chair away from Charlie. ‘Generally, in life?’ she replied.

  ‘If you like. But I was referring to the next few days. What’s your itinerary?’

  Maddie eyed the fresh bottle of beer, stealing a glance back at Barry’s roving camera.

  ‘No plan as such. By this time …’ she checked her watch and made a mental calculation, ‘I’d be on a plane home, thinking about sinking into my sofa with a soothing cup of Earl Grey. But my day hasn’t exactly panned out that way. Instead, I’m contemplating heading across the border to Cambodia.’

  ‘Interesting choice. Thailand might be an easier start to your travelling experience,’ Victoria noted, a sour edge to her voice.

  ‘A friend suggested Cambodia.’ Maddie reached out for the bottle of Chang. She noted the missing top and instead picked at the damp label, absently scanning the dance floor for the exit.

  ‘If you’re serious about Cambodia, there’s a bus leaving tomorrow. A few of us are booked on. It’ll take us to the border, then on to Battambang.’

  Maddie teased up a corner of the label, peeling it back in one unbroken piece. She paused to stifle a yawn. ‘Excuse me. Yesterday was a heavy night. Sorry, I’m going to head on.’

  ‘Good idea.’ Victoria beamed, lifting her arms to offer Maddie a quick hug, in the process edging a little closer to Charlie as Maddie withdrew.

  ‘I’ll walk with you, I’m heading the same way,’ said Charlie, knocking back the remainder of his drink.

  • • •

  Rupert stared through a large smoked glass viewing panel, high up above the miniature tables and chairs scattered around the perimeter of the dance floor, thirty feet below. He watched traveller types mingle. Drinking, chatting, flirting. To his left, Joe-Ho sat back behind a large mahogany desk, his feet resting on the leather inlay, hands linked behind his head.

  ‘Naughty Rupert-the-bear is not on that aeroplane. He is standing in my office. Why is that?’ said Joe-Ho in a conversational tone.

  Rupert turned to face him. He released the suitcase handle and held out his hands, opening his mouth to respond, but an unseen voice cut him off, speaking clearly and undistorted over a conference call speaker on the corner of Joe-Ho’s desk.

  ‘Because he’s either very scared, or supremely confident,’ said the crisp, distinctly British voice.

  Joe-Ho tilted his head at Rupert. ‘He bot
h – something gone very wrong. He look confident of being scared.’ Joe-Ho swept his feet off the desk and strolled over to Rupert, standing beside him and surveying the mingling travellers below.

  ‘Losing your fiancée, Rupert, is indeed significant.’

  Rupert waited for the voice on the speaker to continue, but he heard only a faint constant static to counter the muted background chatter and music beyond the glass. He cleared his throat, tried to maintain an even tone as he projected his voice towards the desk. ‘I don’t know what happened. We were there together, in the check-in queue. She spilt coffee over her dress, went off to the toilets to change and … never came back.’

  ‘Was the coffee spill genuine?’

  ‘Yes, I jolted her arm. It was my fault.’

  ‘Sure about that? Could it have been premeditated?’

  ‘Of course not. She wouldn’t—’

  ‘Make a business decision?’

  Rupert stared at the speaker-phone. ‘Something must have happened. Maddie is … predictable.’

  ‘It sounds premeditated. Like she sold out, to a competitor.’

  ‘She wouldn’t – couldn’t know. Besides, she works, has money—’

  ‘That kind of dollars?’ said Joe-Ho. Rupert turned back to face him. ‘Why else she disappear?’ Joe-Ho studied him with an amiable expression.

  ‘Sit down, Rupert,’ said the voice over the speaker, ‘and gather your thoughts. Then tell us everything – omit nothing and do not attempt to lie. We’re reasonable businessmen, but we only ask nicely once.’

  • • •

  ‘I’ll be okay, thanks,’ said Maddie, quickening her walking pace as she glanced back at Charlie, jogging up to her side.

  ‘Are you really heading to Cambodia?’ he asked, catching his breath.

  ‘That’s the thing about taking up a challenge. I’d be short-changing myself if I didn’t follow it through.’

  ‘Perhaps we could hang out, buddy up. For safety,’ he added.

  ‘Yours, or mine …?’

  Charlie’s mouth formed an enigmatic smile. They walked on, side by side. Charlie buried his hands in his pockets, darting her an occasional appreciative glance.

  • • •

  ‘That’s everything?’

  Rupert leant his elbows on Joe-Ho’s desk, rubbed his eyes and nodded. ‘Yes. Maddie knows I have an appreciation for other girls when I’ve had a few beers. But my wallet had disappeared, so I was in a filthy mood the next morning. Maybe that’s what pushed her over the edge.’

  ‘You farangs, you think Thai girls are stupid? They got business sense,’ said Joe-Ho, without turning from staring down through the smoked glass at his thriving nightclub.

  The conference speaker buzzed with static. ‘You’ve failed to uphold our arrangement, Rupert. There’s an outstanding debt to settle. So my suggestion to you is this: find your fiancée. Retrieve the missing item. Get on a plane home, then we’ll consider the debt repaid, without any additional penalty. If you’re not on a plane in twelve hours with said item, our debt collector will find your fiancée. When he does, your life, and hers, will become extremely uncomfortable. Do you understand?’

  Rupert slumped over the desk and dropped his head into his hands. ‘Yes,’ he managed to utter, scrunching his eyes tightly shut.

  • • •

  ‘I saw you taking photographs of that girl, the B-list has-been celebrity princess.’

  Barry looked up from scrolling through images on his camera’s screen. He tilted his head at Jody and surveyed her expression, the corners of his mouth twitching mischievously. ‘I took lots of photos tonight. It’s what I do.’

  ‘You like her.’

  ‘I like people. They intrigue me, from an artistic perspective.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  Jody watched Barry shrug then take a swig of beer, finishing the bottle.

  ‘What’s that look supposed to mean?’

  ‘It means it’s time for another beer. You want one?’

  Jody pursed her lips, folded her arms. He stared at her for a few seconds, then chuckled and shook his head as he strolled off towards the bar, his camera dangling from its shoulder strap.

  ‘Don’t stress, sister. Did you see the smokin’ guy she hooked up with?’ said Victoria, sidling up beside her.

  Jody nodded. ‘He’ll soon realise she’s a snooty cow.’

  ‘And when he does, others will be ready to pounce.’ Victoria winked, provoking a cackle from Jody.

  By the bar, Barry looked over his shoulder at the two girls. He swung round, lifting his camera up to his eye in a smooth, seamless motion, quickly focusing in on them.

  Shh-clitch.

  Memory Card 2. Pic 448

  ‘Vultures circle nearby, their unfortunate prey unaware as they squawk their dire plans to make her cry. Run away, demure little bird, find the inner confidence not to fly with the herd.’

  • • •

  ‘You lucky. I good guy, here in Thailand. London, very different …’ Joe-Ho tutted and shook his head. ‘Not reasonable men. Profit, much to lose. For me, no supply problem. There little risk, what I care? But I like you, Rupert. You not running, you standing. Try to make right. But man they will send …’

  Joe-Ho stared at Rupert for a long moment, then slowly shook his head. ‘He like that movie shark. Duuun dun. Duuun dun … dun, dun, dun, dun, dun … haaarrrgggrrrhhhh!’ He leapt around the desk, grabbed Rupert’s leg with both hands and clawed his fingertips into the pressure points around the kneecap, jolting him upright.

  ‘Arrhh!’

  Joe-Ho released Rupert’s leg and perched next to him on the edge of the desk. ‘I hope wife-in-waiting still in Thailand, got what London want. If not, is very bad news. For two of you …’

  Ten

  ‘This is me.’ Maddie began to speed up as she and Charlie approached the Wild Orchid Villas Hotel.

  You say, “me too,” and I’m seeking reinforcements …

  ‘Ah, I’m just down the road.’

  ‘Cool. I guess I’ll see you around,’ she said over her shoulder as he dropped back.

  ‘Hey, maybe on the bus tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, right. Yeah, maybe … thing is, Charlie, I’m in a weird place right now – emotionally. I wouldn’t want you to misunderstand my … availability.’

  Charlie stopped walking. He chuckled. ‘Hey, no problem. Sleep well, travel safe.’ He smiled and turned and strolled away, back the way they’d come.

  Maddie began to climb the steps into the reception lobby, pausing to half-turn and watch him depart. She instinctively rubbed her thumb on the underside of her engagement ring, an image of Rupert jumping into her mind; younger, more relaxed, happier.

  So different, back then …

  The memory of Rupert mutated into Stefan, seven years previously. Fresh-faced, optimistic, roguish. Barely twenty-four years young, before … Maddie shuddered. She glanced briefly back at Charlie, then scurried up the remaining steps, into the depths of the hotel.

  • • •

  ‘Three miles away … backpacker central. Not your style, Maddie, not your style at all. Unless your mobile’s been stolen.’

  Rupert pocketed his smartphone, picked up his suitcase and hurried across the lobby’s marble floor, leaving the cool air conditioning behind. He paused on the kerb outside to slip on his sunglasses, shielding the glare from the rising sun, then scanned the near-deserted street. He checked his watch and crossed to the opposite side of the road, peering down a row of parked cars. He marched past each one, halting by a taxi, scrunching his hand into a fist to hammer on the rear window.

  The startled driver leapt up, squinting at Rupert, who thrust his phone through the open window. ‘You take me here?’

  ‘Okay, okay. We go.’ The driver opened the door and hurried around to open the boot, heaving Rupert’s suitcase inside.

  ‘Meter, yes?’ said Rupert, tapping the electronic box mounted on the dashboard as he climbed into the passenger seat.
>
  ‘Yes, okay. No problem,’ the man replied. He swiftly settled into the driving seat and pressed a button on the black box to zero the neon figures.

  Rupert held his phone up next to the meter, the screen facing the driver. ‘Here, okay?’ he said, pointing to the flashing location icon on the electronic street map.

  ‘Yes, yes.’ The driver slipped the taxi into gear and accelerated away.

  • • •

  Maddie stepped into the dim corridor and closed the door to her room, checking she’d locked it. She shielded a yawn with her hand and glanced down to check her watch through sleepy-sore eyes, groaning. Far too early.

  The schoolgirl-age Thai receptionist looked up from the glow of her tablet’s screen and beamed, easing one side of her headphones away from an ear. ‘Okay, lady?’

  Maddie nodded, pressing her cheek against her flat palms and shaking her head, by way of explanation. She made her way past the desk towards one of the comfy sofas on the far side of the lobby, in the process filtering past a handful of wasted-looking travellers slouched around a low table stacked with dozens of empty beer bottles and an overflowing ashtray. Maddie sank down onto a vacant couch, resting her shoulder bag next to her. She pulled out Liz’s paperback and fanned the pages.

  Outside the lobby a clunking diesel minibus rumbled to a stop, its brakes squeaking. The engine spluttered and died. A door creaked open, then slammed shut with a muted thwack. Footsteps shuffled up into the lobby behind Maddie, past the all-night party table, seeking out the young receptionist. Maddie zoned out the fast exchange in Thai between the receptionist and the minibus driver in favour of the drunken group’s English murmurings and occasional tittering. The background voices began to merge and dissipate as her eyes grew heavy, sleep beckoning …

  The minibus driver perched on the reception desk and lit a cigarette, checking his watch. Maddie sank further into the couch, her arm draped over the shoulder bag, limbs relaxing, consumed by the soft leather. She drifted further from Bangkok, away from Rupert, leaving the humidity and reality behind …

  • • •

  Rupert stepped out of the taxi and collected his suitcase from the driver, handing him three dollars – just over the metered amount. He glanced up at the tiered entrance lobby and began to climb the steps.

 

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