by Mark Green
‘Yes, but—’
Barry shook his head, looked away from her. ‘I can’t risk missing that flight. It’ll impact on my other plans. I made promises.’
‘So did I, Barry. I changed my plans on the understanding that I needed to meet Penny, remember?’
He turned, bristling. ‘Hey, I didn’t force you into hanging with me. I’ve accommodated you too—’
‘Accommodated me?’ Jody halted, raised her hands to her hips. ‘You’re not the easiest travel companion, mister. Up and down like a tripping clown on a bungie.’
Barry held her intense stare for a moment. ‘Which is why you like me. “At least you’re not boring,” you said.’
‘Okay smartarse, maybe not boring, but definitely unpredictable and unmanageable!’
He began to snigger. ‘Ha! Now we’re getting to the truth. Your Jedi mind tricks are failing you. Not able to control me, eh? Ain’t that the truth.’
‘You’re such a wanker,’ she shouted, turning away from him.
Barry watched her stomp away. ‘C’mon Jody, where’s your sense of humour?’ He broke into a laugh, clutching his belly as he jigged from one foot to the other. She continued walking away, raised her right hand above her shoulder, clenching her fist and flicking him the finger.
• • •
THWACK!
The thick pane of glass wobbled, pulsing in its frame as Rupert slammed into it. His body hung there, squished, cartoon-like against the glass, then slid down to the floor. He slumped awkwardly, his head lolling to one side, cheek resting on the cool marble, his peripheral vision distorted and at an odd angle.
A pair of polished leather brogues tip-tapped their way towards him, the sound amplified through the floor into his throbbing temple. Smart, neatly creased black trousers lifted and twitched rhythmically above the shining leather, looming into focus. Fender eased to a halt and sank down to a squat beside Rupert’s head. He surveyed Rupert’s cruciform sprawl next to the glass entrance door.
‘That looked nasty,’ he said in a cheery tone, dangling a set of keys in front of Rupert’s face. ‘I thought it prudent, in the interest of our personal security. There’s no telling what sort of untrustworthy city bankers there are out there.’
Fender swung the keys into his palm, straightened up and unlocked the entrance door. ‘A few dollars tucked into the right hands is a small price to pay to preserve our privacy. Now, shall we begin our conversation again? The one that starts with you promising to tell me the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the there-are-no-second-chances-or-I’ll-break-every-bone-in-your-considerable-size-effing-body truth …?’
Fender squatted back down and angled his head to connect with Rupert’s side-on, blinking stare. ‘Agreed?’
Rupert cringed in pain as he nodded minutely.
‘Excellent. I’ll be over there, when you’re ready.’ Fender pointed across the lobby at the same couch and coffee table. ‘I wouldn’t recommend trying to leg it again. If I have to hurry after you and crease my suit, I’ll be very, very tetchy.’
• • •
Maddie wandered along the wide leafy pavement between the grassy segments lined with trees. To her left, thirty yards below the rainy season high-water mark, the wide, muddy brown river ebbed gently past. On her right, mopeds and scooters zipped by like a swarm of mosquitoes, outnumbering cars five to one, tormenting the other vehicles with their unpredictable manoeuvres.
Maddie glanced over at Gabby ambling along beside her. ‘How did it go with your friend?’
‘Matthew? Good, thank you. We’ve arranged to meet in five days, as the sun rises over Angkor Wat.’
‘Wow, sounds romantic.’
‘Yup, should be pretty magical.’
Maddie caught Gabby’s faraway gaze and whimsical twitching smile. They walked on in silence, past the white stone benches surrounded by neat sections of thick tufty grass. Maddie breathed in the warm evening air, flinching as a motorbike screeched by, its small capacity engine revving hard, leaving a lingering waft of oily two-stroke exhaust fumes in its wake. NeeeeeeeEEEERRRRRRR!
Maddie tracked the bike as it sped past, the rider hunching low on the seat, his chest leaning over bent arms. Her nose twitched, threatening to develop into a sneeze. She pinched her nostrils, shuddering, rolling her shoulders to encourage the cool, prickly sensation to disperse. Her heart rate jolted up forty beats.
Was it really seven years ago …?
His angular, dimpled-cheek smile. Brooding, hypnotic dark brown eyes partially hidden beneath a mop of black hair, colour matching sporadic patches of uneven stubble. Bold features that hinted at a taut, lean muscular frame. The sort of coiled strength that comes from long hours of practice, not the faintest hint of office-tummy puffiness. The edgy excitement as she swung her leg over the seat, wrapped her arms around him – man and machine, immortal. Lifting her feet onto the pegs, the engine barking, background rushing by as they accelerated hard, the breeze sweeping her hair back behind the crash helmet. Clutching his chest tighter as they leaned into a bend together, the throttle opening wider, engine roaring, heart soaring as he searched for the higher gear, propelling them onwards, even faster …
‘You okay?’
Heart pounding, feeling its echo deep inside the back of his ribcage. Clinging on, tighter. Faster and tighter, and—
‘Maddie?’ Gabby lay her hand on Maddie’s shoulder, squeezing gently. She jumped, shot Gabby a startled glare, which quickly dispersed into pale, hollow-eyed vacancy.
‘What is it?’ Gabby asked.
Maddie stared through Gabby, her glazed eyes unresponsive for ten, twenty seconds. Finally she shook her head, blinking rapidly.
‘Someone … a long time ago,’ she whispered, barely audible. ‘He was … we were …’ She shook her head. ‘I lost him.’ Maddie dropped her eyes to the pavement. ‘Do you mind if we walk over there instead, by the river?’
‘Of course.’ Gabby followed Maddie away from the road, walking silently by her side.
Sixteen
The buzz of conversation and pulsating dance mixes resonated through lusty limbs, mingling in close skin-tingling proximity on the Riverside Bar veranda. Clusters of different nationality travellers stood drinking, socialising, enjoying nocturnal networking amidst enthusiastic chatter, laughter and good humour.
‘Where’s your girlfriend?’ asked Kao, glancing up from the camera’s high definition screen.
Barry shrugged, eased his hands around his camera to accept it back from Kao’s small fingers. ‘Threw a hissy fit.’
‘Oh, is okay?’
‘She’ll get over it. You guys want another beer? Gonna get some grog on, cut loose.’
‘No, we okay.’
Barry nodded. He withdrew, weaving his way through the crowd.
‘He funny,’ said Kao, returning her focus to the group.
Victoria pulled a face, shot a look at Charlie. ‘He’s a brash beach-bum. There’s something edgy and dangerous beneath that mask of creativity, y’know?’
‘He talented. Good eye for – how you say, small events?’
‘Detail.’
‘Yes. He notice things, like interesting people.’
‘Where’s Maddie?’ Charlie asked, looking at Gabby.
‘Gone to the ladies.’
Charlie nodded, took a swig of his beer, casually asked ‘She okay?’
‘Settling in nicely,’ replied Gabby. ‘How’s the research going?’
‘Oh, yeah … okay thanks. Progressing in line with my expectations.’
Victoria opened a new packet of cigarettes, offered them around. ‘What happened to the others?’
Gabby nodded her thanks to Victoria as she accepted a cigarette. ‘Sandy is around somewhere, think he went to do some shopping. Rod said he’ll be here later and Barney is over there talking to the girl with the blonde hair and flowery dress.’
‘Who’s Barney?’
‘The kooky German guy trying to sleep his way around Asia.�
��
‘Aren’t we all,’ Victoria mumbled, jigging to the music vibe. She flicked her eyes at Charlie, delicately sipping the cocktail through a straw with pursed lips.
• • •
Barry sank his elbows behind him onto the bar and glanced across the long expanse of unvarnished teak, scanning the animated faces of other drinkers, busy chatting and trapping.
‘Arrrh! No more fossil music!’ yelled the guy next to him in a German accent. His hands clasped against his ears as the first few bars of a remixed version of Madonna’s Material Girl blended in over a contemporary dance tune, reverberating through hissing speakers.
‘Yeah, man, something this century!’ Barry yelled, to the delight of the German. He turned towards the veranda, something sparkly catching his eye. He pushed up off his heels, homing in on the shiny earring, making its way across the back of the dance floor. Barry grinned, absorbing Madonna’s sultry lyrics as they merged into a synthetic remix.
‘Hey, Madge! Yeah, you – material girl!’
Maddie frowned, scanning the sea of gyrating bodies, her eyes darting past unfamiliar faces.
‘Over here – Britpop princess!’
Maddie’s searching gaze found Barry’s wide-eyed lopsided enthusiasm. ‘You want a drink?’ he yelled, delighting in the cheer and collective “YES!” shouted by his fellow revellers.
Maddie shook her head, moving onwards, squeezing by two more people before Barry shouted again. ‘Hey, Madge. Don’t be getting all sensible – I don’t like drinking alone!’
Maddie hesitated, shot Barry another look as she eased through a gap behind a couple kissing. She watched his arms reach skywards, hands opening and closing, punching the air in time with the music. ‘Coz I am a material guy, and I’m living in a materialistic-bullshit world …’
Maddie abruptly turned and headed over to him. ‘Where’s your girlfriend?’
‘Sulking! What ya drinkin’?’ he yelled over the music.
Maddie stole a look behind her shoulder at the minibus group. Victoria stood leaning in close to Charlie, Kao was chatting to an Italian-looking guy much older than her, and Gabby raised her bottle of water in acknowledgement. Maddie returned Gabby’s smile, then refocused on Barry. ‘I’ll have a beer, thanks,’ she said, observing his energetic on-the-spot dance moves.
‘Reminds me of my folks’ music collection,’ he said. He leaned over the bar to signal for another drink, frowning at the lack of anyone to serve him, then turned back to her. ‘Could be a while, have mine. I’ve not touched it.’
He thrust a cold bottle of Chang into Maddie’s hand. She hesitated, eyeing the missing top.
Barry raised an eyebrow, nodding earnestly. ‘Good point. I wouldn’t trust a guy like me either. It’s the gobby ones you’ve got to watch, right?’ He plucked the bottle from her hand, held it above his open mouth and poured in a glug of beer. He swallowed and wiped away stray droplets from his chin, then handed it back to her. ‘There you go. If it’s contaminated, we’ll both be trollied. It was good advice, whoever gave it,’ he said, his cheerfulness momentarily clouding over. ‘Immerse yourself in the experience, but be careful who you trust.’
Maddie held eye contact with him for a moment, then broke away. She lifted the bottle to her lips and took a sip. ‘Thanks for the drink, and the advice. You don’t seem to follow it yourself.’
‘Me? Nah, different for blokes. My life’s too short to be cautious – I just rock up with a smile and hope for the best. There’s not as many shitty people in the world as everyone says. Besides, I’d rather come a cropper occasionally than carry around the fear of mistrust. That’s too big a burden to keep unpacking.’ Barry glanced away. He spun around towards the bar and whistled – short and piercing, catching the attention of an Australian teenager appearing from a side door. ‘Hey, bud – two Changs please. Have one yourself.’
Barry settled up and handed one of the fresh beers to Maddie, swapping it for the part-drunk bottle in her hand.
‘Sorted. No Rohypnol stress.’
‘That’s unnecessary, but—’
‘Reassuring?’
‘Yes, strangely. Cheers.’ She tapped the neck of her beer bottle against his.
‘Don’t let me trick you. I’m still a knob, according to Jody.’
‘Oh, where is she?’
Barry shrugged. He looked away at the dance floor. ‘We always knew we’d be heading in different directions when we got to Battambang. She didn’t like being reminded of the conversation.’
‘Sorry to hear that.’
‘That’s travelling … I’ve got a timetable, this time around.’
‘How long have you been together?’
‘Not long enough for me to deviate.’
Maddie took a sip of beer, narrowly avoiding the bottle being jostled away from her mouth by a thick-set guy pushing into a gap beside her.
‘Whoa, easy chief,’ said Barry, shooting the guy a mild warning glare. He reached out a protective arm and guided Maddie away.
‘S’alright mate, chill,’ slurred the guy in a British accent, his eyes twitching into focus as Barry leaned in close.
‘Sure thing, chief. Just mind my friend, yeah?’ Barry’s hand closed around the guy’s elbow, taut fingers pinching the pressure point.
‘Fuck man, easy!’
Barry eased his body in front of Maddie, shielding her as he squeezed harder on the guy’s elbow.
‘Yeeeeaaarrrhhh!’
‘Have a pleasant evening.’ Barry released his grip. He turned to smile at Maddie. ‘This way.’
Maddie followed Barry away from the bar. She flicked her eyes up at the British guy, stood rubbing his elbow with an angry, puzzled expression.
‘Don’t worry about him, it’s just the booze.’ Barry led Maddie towards the veranda, steering her to the periphery overlooking the river, where patrons mingled with more space and less bar-room volume.
‘So what happens now, with you and Jody – do you toss a coin or something?’
‘To decide who follows who?’
Maddie nodded.
Barry looked away, pulled a face. He withdrew his tobacco tin from his cargo pants pocket, carefully pinching the stringy leafy curls into a cigarette paper, focusing intently on the process. ‘This was always going to happen. We’re both tied into separate itineraries. There’s no decisions, just different paths.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Tell me about your travel plans.’ He gently licked along the length of the fragile paper.
‘There never were any plans. Just a stupid impulse …’
‘Hey, that’s as it should be. You’re out here, doing it – living and breathing the journey.’
She watched him place the roll-up between his lips, then pause thoughtfully before he lit it with a disposable lighter. ‘Unless you quit. Then, yeah, that would be a bit daft.’ Barry puffed the ciggie alight, inhaling and squeezing his eyelids shut. He shivered in pleasure as the sensation kicked in. He opened his eyes and offered her the roll-up.
‘No, thank you.’
He studied her for a moment before pulling his hand back, tapping ash into the lid of his tobacco tin before taking another draw. ‘But you used to, right?’
Maddie looked away, darted her eyes around the bar, unable to see the minibus group. ‘How can you tell?’
‘Flicker of taste, in your eyes. You sure …?’ He offered the joint again.
Maddie slowly shook her head. ‘I’ll stick to the beer.’
‘Cool, me too after this. It’s one of those nights.’
‘One of those cheating nights?’
Barry turned towards the voice. He smiled easily at Jody who stood behind Maddie, her arms folded, eyes cold. Maddie spun round, took a step back. Barry took a swig of beer, finishing the bottle. He smirked. ‘I hadn’t figured it that way, but knowing me as you do, Jody, you shouldn’t pre-judge my—’
‘You’re an arsehole.’
‘I certainly have an arsehole.’ Barry studied Jody through the end
of his glowing roll-up, it’s intermittent glow briefly shrouding her in a red sheen. ‘But as to being one—’
A flicker of interest diverted his gaze, breaking his contemplation. He took half a step back, his eyes bright and attentive. ‘Hold it right there, don’t move a muscle.’ Barry yanked his camera up from where it dangled on its strap by his waist. ‘That’s such a cool shot. Captures your mood perfectly.’ He leant back to squint through the viewfinder.
‘You fucking arsehole!’ Jody swung her right palm, hard and fast at his face.
Barry swayed his head back, rotating his elbow up to block the incoming blow, shielding his camera. Jody yelped as her wrist struck his forearm. ‘Whoa, easy Jody!’
She screeched, gritted her teeth and staggered back, simultaneously swinging her left fist, off-balance now. He ducked her wild blow, which instead connected with a nearby male traveller, whacking him in the ear. Barry shrugged the strap off his shoulder and thrust the camera into Maddie’s hands, bundling her away from Jody. ‘Look after this, will ya – go and get the aristocratic water-diviner. Might need a hand here …’
Barry kicked off his flip-flops and leapt between Jody and the owner of the whacked ear – an Italian guy in his mid-twenties, four inches taller than Barry. The Italian clutched the side of his head, arm muscles taut, veins bulging. He squared up to Barry, the remains of his drink soaking into his Ralph Lauren shirt. The Italian spat abuse in his native dialect, his chest puffed out, arms straight by his side, posturing and thrusting his chest at Barry, jostling him like a prima donna football player. Jody whirled her flailing helicopter arms at him, raining down blows – some on Barry, some on the Italian – whose nostrils flared, also letting loose on Barry with a barrage of his own punches.
‘Nice one, Jody!’ Barry yelped, hunched down, arms clamped protectively over his head. He mentally counted to three, then sprung up, shoving the Italian hard while yanking his right hand forwards, spinning him around. Barry kicked the back of the Italian’s calves, collapsing him to the floor, then wrapped his forearm under the guy’s stubbly chin while pressing his left palm against his neck, pinching his windpipe.