Why would she do that to me?
And then I see the note on the desk near the TV.
Hey Chloe,
You looked like you really needed the sleep, and I wasn’t sure whether you were going to have to stay in Bangkok for a few more days, so I decided to let you rest and check out separately. As per the original plan, I’ve gone with the gang down to Pattaya. Keep me posted on what you decide to do. I’m cool either way.
Mia.
I stare at it, not sure if I want to laugh or cry.
She’s cool? SHE’S COOL?
Is this her way of ditching me without looking like the bad guy? Or did she genuinely think that this was the best way to go about things? And what’s this “either way” business? Is that code for “I’d rather you just disappeared, but I can’t say it outright because you’ve already paid for your share of the accommodation?”
I suddenly feel defeated. I flop back down on the bed and cry.
What am I going to do?
The phone in my room rings. My heart lifts for a second. Maybe it’s Mia. She might have forgotten the new mobile number I gave her and just wanted to see if I’m OK.
“Hello?” I say eagerly.
“Oh, hello ma’am. This is reception. Your scheduled check-out was a few minutes ago, and I was wondering if you planned on staying another night?”
Shit.
“Uh, probably not. Sorry. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“That’s fine. Thank you, ma’am.”
I quickly start stuffing everything into my suitcase. I don’t think about what I’m going to do once I check out. I don’t have enough money to stay here, that’s for sure. And who knows how long it will take to organise a replacement passport once the consulate reopens? Now that Mia doesn’t seem to care whether I’m actually on the trip with her, there doesn’t seem any point in leaving Bangkok.
I do a quick mental calculation in my head. Things are a bit dire since having to spend a fifth of my wire money on medical bills yesterday. I have just under three hundred left in cash, and if I have to stay for another seven days, then that’s only around forty dollars a day. And I’ll have to book new accommodation with some of that.
I don’t know how much backpacker resorts cost, but I’m betting they’re at least thirty dollars per day. Probably closer to forty or fifty…unless I want to stay somewhere like in that Beach movie. And I still have to eat.
Damn my sister!
I open my laptop and write her a quick message on Facebook.
Mia! I wish you hadn’t left without properly saying goodbye! That was really uncool. I wasn’t going to force you to stay in Bangkok or anything, but I would have liked to have gone over some possible alternative plans without you making me feel like I’m no longer wanted on the trip…
I look at the message, wondering if I should send it. My finger hovers over the backspace key for a moment. And then I accidentally press send.
Ah, well. That’s the decision made, then.
I wait and see whether she receives it.
There. The little icon with her photo shows that she’s seen it at her end.
I watch for the talking dots. I wonder how she’ll reply. I don’t often call my sister out on her behaviour, but I think this time it’s justified.
Hang on. Why aren’t the dots appearing?
Seriously, no dots?
I guess that’s an answer in itself.
I look at the screen for another couple of minutes, feeling very disappointed by Mia’s lack of response, and then realise I’m wasting time.
I have the world’s quickest shower, change into a fresh outfit, and lug my stuff downstairs to the lobby. I check out and then go over to the business centre again.
I google backpacker resorts in the area. Most of them are booked out, probably because of Songkran, and the only available ones are over fifty dollars per night.
I wonder if I could ask Aaron to wire some money. Our weekly chat is tonight. But then I don’t want him thinking I can’t handle myself. His last message made it clear he didn’t believe I could. Asking for money would only make him worse.
I guess I should contact my bank and see if I can have new cards delivered.
But to where?
My brain automatically goes to the perfumery. It’s the only place in Bangkok where I know somebody right now. Come to think of it, maybe Daniel can suggest somewhere cheap for me to stay—some place only the locals know about.
I hesitate, because he’s already been so kind. I shouldn’t take advantage any more than I already have.
But it just makes so much sense.
I pick up my phone and realise I haven’t looked at it since I was in the hospital waiting room yesterday. There’s one message from Daniel. It looks like he wrote it just after the last one I sent him, but I got distracted by the doctor and missed it.
Well if you need anything, please call.
If that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.
I phone his number and wait anxiously for him to answer. I don’t know why the guy makes me so nervous. I think it must still be some Pavlovian response to the first night, and now my brain is forever linking him with the theft.
“Hello?”
“Oh, hi Daniel. It’s Chloe.”
“Chloe! How are you? Are you feeling alright after yesterday?”
I touch the spot on my head, forgetting I still have the gauze taped onto it. I must have looked a sight at reception.
“I’m fine, thank you. But I was just wondering, do you have any suggestions for cheap places to stay in Bangkok? I’m sort of constrained by budget until I get new cards.”
“Oh. Is it just for you? Or does your sister need somewhere too?”
“Uh, it’s just me. Mia has gone to Pattaya with her friends, but I needed to stay so I can go to the consulate on Thursday.”
“Yes, yes of course. Well, actually, you’re in luck. It just so happens I have an empty studio apartment you can use.”
I almost laugh. “Really?”
“Do you remember Phroi? The woman who quit the other day? She was living there while she worked for me, but I went to check yesterday and she’s moved out.”
“Oh! Uh, OK. Are you sure? How much is the rent? I’ll pay you, of course.”
“We’ll work something out. But if you don’t have anything to do for the next few days, you’re welcome to come and help out at the perfumery again as compensation.”
“Wouldn’t I just be getting in the way?”
“No! To be honest, I could use a spare pair of hands. You’d be doing me a favour.”
“I don’t know about that. But yes, if you need help, of course I will do it. And if you don’t mind, I might take you up on that offer to use the perfumery’s address for my new cards.”
“Sure. Great. When can I expect you?”
“In an hour?”
“Perfect. I’ll make sure Gan has lunch ready for us when you arrive.”
“You don’t have to do that…”
“Nonsense. I’ll see you soon.”
“Thank you.”
I hang up and almost cry with relief. And gratitude. I don’t know what I did to deserve finding someone as kind as Daniel, but I am very, very lucky.
NINE
When I return to the perfumery, I feel an immediate sense of ease. I’m quite looking forward to seeing Daniel again.
And Gan, I hastily tell my brain.
I leave my suitcase just inside the door and go through to the back room. Daniel is sitting at his computer, and looks up as I arrive.
“Chloe! Welcome back.”
“Thank you. I am forever indebted to you. You have saved my life twice now.”
He laughs. “I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just glad I can help.”
I hear the front door to the shop open and Gan appears beside me, holding a bunch of plastic bags.
“Ah, lunch. Thanks, Gan,” Daniel says. He takes one of the bags and we all sit at the
dining table. Daniel unpacks everything and hands me a Styrofoam container. When I open it, I practically start drooling. Actual Pad Thai.
Gan passes me some cutlery and a small plastic bag full of dark liquid, sealed with a rubber band at the top. A straw pokes through the band.
“Pepsi,” he explains.
“Oh. Cool.” I’ve never had a drink packaged this way. It reminds me of when you buy goldfish from the pet store.
I rest the bag at the edge of the table, leaning against the wall, and dig into my noodles. They are ridiculously tasty. I actually haven’t eaten much Thai food since I arrived, and I feel a bit guilty that I haven’t made more of an effort. What was I thinking, ordering club sandwiches and pancakes at the hotel? I should be embracing this fantastic culture!
A small groan of appreciation escapes my lips.
Daniel smiles. “Good, huh?”
“So good,” I say through a mouthful of food.
“And it only costs the equivalent of about three American dollars.”
“Well, I certainly won’t go hungry while I’m here.”
“We wouldn’t let that happen anyway.”
I blush. Thankfully Daniel doesn’t notice. Or at least, he pretends not to.
“After we finish eating, I’ll take you over to the studio and let you settle in,” he says. “It’s only a short walk from here. Then you can come back and help out for the rest of the afternoon. If that works for you?”
“That totally works for me.”
I continue to eat, and look around the room.
“So, how many staff do you have here?”
“Five, since Phroi left, and if you don’t count me. They’re all with their families for the holiday, but they’ll be back tomorrow because they want to see Gan for his birthday.”
“Oh, that’s lovely.” I turn to Gan. “Do you have anything special planned?”
“Daniel has booked us a table at a nice restaurant. You should come too.”
“Oh! No, that’s OK. But thank you. I don’t want to be a bother.”
“You won’t be a bother. Will she, Daniel?”
“Not at all.” He gives me a look I can’t quite decipher.
“Um, maybe I’ll think about it. So, you’re not going to visit your family for your birthday, Gan?”
“No. I don’t really have any family. Both my parents are dead and my brother lives in Songkhla, but we don’t talk. It is too far to travel there anyway.”
“Oh, that’s a shame.”
“What about you? Where is your family?”
“Well, my sister is on her way to Pattaya right now. I don’t know where my dad is, and my mother is back in Brisbane.”
I try not to show my sadness as I mention my broken family, but Daniel’s expression changes to one of compassion. I mustn’t be very good at hiding my feelings.
“Both my parents are in Edinburgh,” he tells me. “I was never very close to my dad. And my mum is great, but she hates technology, so it’s difficult to communicate with her.”
“That must be hard.”
“You make your own family though, don’t you? I like to think that Gan and the team are my real family.”
Gan laughs. “You are our rich Western dad.”
Daniel chuckles. “I don’t know about rich. Or dad, for that matter. But I know what you’re saying.”
I feel so comfortable with Daniel and Gan, it’s almost disturbing.
“What do you normally do back home?” Gan asks me.
“Oh. Um, I’m a human resources officer at a boutique recruitment firm in Brisbane. This is my first holiday in a couple of years.”
“And you were travelling with your sister?”
“Yes. Except she had to go on ahead with her friends, otherwise they would have forfeited their accommodation.” I try to say it lightly, like I don’t care, but my voice cracks slightly on the last word.
Again, Daniel seems to sense my sadness, but this time doesn’t say anything.
“Do you have a husband or boyfriend?” Gan prods.
“Uh, I have a boyfriend called Aaron. He’s in the Middle East at the moment. He’s in the army.” For some reason, I don’t really want to talk about Aaron right now.
“Oh, cool,” Gan says. I’m not sure if he was asking for a reason, or just to make conversation. Daniel looks thoughtful and continues to eat.
After we finish our meals, he stands up.
“Would you like to go now?”
“Sure.”
Daniel insists on taking my suitcase, so I only have to worry about my smaller bags. We go outside and walk back to the main road, past a strip of convenience stores and small businesses. It feels hotter than usual. The air is dusty and smells like exhaust fumes.
Daniel veers off into a tree-lined alley, which instantly cuts the heat and noise, and heads towards a white, five-storey building. We enter the lobby and go up in the elevator.
“You’ll be on the third floor,” he explains. “I found this place when I first moved to Bangkok, but I’ve since bought a house, so I keep this studio for guests or clients who are here to work on large projects. Phroi was only supposed to stay here temporarily after the lease ended on her old apartment, but she never got around to finding somewhere else. And I didn’t see any point in asking her to leave when no one else needed it.”
We come out onto an open-air landing. Daniel unlocks a nearby door.
My first reaction is ooohhh. How lovely.
My second reaction is I can’t possibly afford to stay here! It’s too nice!
“Are you sure it’s OK for me to stay here?” I ask.
“Of course. I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”
I put my bags down and slowly walk around the studio. The whole place is painted white, but there are vivid colour photos of Thai people and landscapes on the walls. The floor is polished concrete, and the furnishings are black, white or timber. It has an industrial feel, but it’s still cosy. That might be due to the leafy green plants right out the window and on the balcony.
It is wonderfully cool inside. There is a double bed against the far wall, and a cow hide rug on the floor. It’s perfect.
Daniel interrupts my reverie. “Well, I should probably get back to the lab. But let me know if you need anything. I’ll see you over there soon?”
“Yes. Thank you again. I really owe you one. Or two. Or three.”
He laughs. “No, you don’t. I’m just glad you like the place.”
I watch him leave and then spin around in a circle with my arms out.
I don’t just like the place.
I love it.
***
I spend half an hour at the studio, unpacking some of my stuff and acquainting myself with the apartment’s facilities. There is a small alcove near the front door where I can set up my laptop on a desk. But instead of switching on my computer right away, I find myself standing out on the balcony and looking down at the street below.
There are a few food vendors set up in the alley under multi-coloured tarps. Mopeds and motorbikes zoom by every now and again. It’s such a charming location. Somehow it appeals to me more than the Shangri-La. Maybe it’s because it feels more like a home than the hotel. I could quite easily stay here for months.
I giggle. Keith would love that.
Oops. I wonder if my boss is having a fit, not being able to reach me on my mobile. It was kind of a blessing in disguise, losing my phone. I don’t have to feel guilty about not answering it. I actually have a legitimate reason.
Of course, I could email him and let him know my new number, but I’m not quite ready to do that yet. It can wait until tonight. Technically, I’ve only been out of action for one and a half work days since I last spoke to him. He can’t be struggling too badly.
I head back to the perfumery and only find Gan there.
“Daniel had to go out for a while,” he explains.
“Oh. Right.”
“He’ll be back in half an hour or an
hour.”
“Great. So, is there anything you’d like me to do?”
“You can help me check inventory. We’ll need to do an order at the end of the week.”
“Sure.”
Gan hands me a pen and a clipboard with a list on it. “I’ll read out the names of the materials and how much we have. Just make a note beside where it’s written on the list.”
“Easy.”
We head into the lab and Gan starts on one wall.
“Alcohol C-7 Heptanol – three.”
I write the number three beside it on the list.
“Aldehyde C-10 Decanal – one.”
I fill that in.
We go through a dozen or so items before Gan moves to the next row.
“So, how does this place work?” I ask. “Daniel makes perfume for clients, but they can also come in and make their own?”
“That’s right. Plus, he runs workshops and he’s a wholesale distributor. And then he has this other service where he…”
The phone rings in the shop.
“I better get that,” Gan says and hurries off to answer it.
I stay in the lab, and take over from what Gan was doing, going through each material and making a note of how many canisters of each there are.
I wonder what Daniel’s other service is.
***
I don’t see Daniel much for the rest of the day. He comes back to the perfumery a bit later, but then apologises for having to dedicate some time to a problem client. I figure I’ll be able to say goodbye before I go home for the evening, but he’s on the phone when I’m about to leave, just after 6pm. I contemplate staying longer, but it’s my night to talk with Aaron, so I wave to Daniel and motion that I have to go. He smiles and waves in return.
I’m back at the apartment and sitting down in front of my computer just in time. I always have to wait for Aaron to dial in, seeing as the army dictates his schedule.
Soon, the distinctive Skype ringtone sounds, and I feel the familiar rush of both excitement and apprehension. It’s programmed into me after three years of Tuesday nights.
I answer the call and see Aaron’s smiling face on the screen. I’m glad to see he’s looks happy.
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