Thai Girl Page 14

  They ate hungrily from the wobbly tables and soon the dishes were all empty. There was no standing on ceremony and they immediately started clearing up.

  ‘Ben, you go Gaeo’s room, take Joy,’ said Fon.

  Gaeo showed Ben into her hut where he was left with Joy, sitting on a double mattress on the floor and flicking through a magazine for Thai TV. In the room was a television, a fridge, the mattress, a mosquito net and clean clothes hung up behind a curtain.

  Joy was wriggling around, wanting to play with Ben. Frustrated that she could not make him understand, she switched on the television and trawled through the channels with the remote control. Then Fon’s head came round the door.

  ‘You okay, Ben? Me and Jinda go shower,’ she said, before disappearing again.

  Ben was a little surprised when a few minutes later, she and Jinda came back after showering, wrapped only in towels. Defying the towel to fall off, Fon then threw her arms above her head and pirouetted around twice on tiptoes.

  ‘Fon sexy? You like?’ she sang out with a laugh. Ben liked very much and said so. At that moment Gaeo came back into the hut and, with much merriment, they began to go through the clothes stored behind the curtain.

  ‘Jinda have clean clothes but I not have, so borrow from Gaeo,’ Fon explained.

  There was little choice, most of it working clothes, and Fon ended up with a clean tee shirt and a pair of shapeless brown shorts to wear.

  ‘We put on shirt now,’ she said to Ben, ‘so you watch TV … not look.’ Still only in her towel she came up to where Ben was sitting on the mattress, knelt down behind him, wrapped her arms round him and clasped her hands over his eyes. ‘You eyes closed, okay!’

  It was very tactile, her body pressed hard against his back, the first contact between them that was not professional massage.

  ‘What if I look?’ he demanded, stirred if not shaken.

  ‘I kill you,’ she said.

  With Joy dancing around in front of the television and Ben’s eyes glued uncomprehendingly to a Thai soap opera, Jinda and Fon noisily got dressed.

  ‘Ben, you can look now,’ said Fon as Jinda shrieked in protest, zipping up her jeans just in time.

  ‘You look great, Fon,’ said Ben, ‘in whatever you wear.’

  ‘Sweet mouth… men always the same!’ Fon did another little dance, this time with Joy, the two of them falling about the place like puppies.

  With Ben sitting on the mattress in front of the television, Jinda and Fon chatted with Gaeo in Thai. Gaeo produced a bag of cosmetics which they sorted through, while Fon picked up a mirror and gazed lovingly into it. In fits of giggles, Fon and Jinda started to put on make-up, concentrating hard; a little eye-liner, some talcum, an eyebrow pencil, but no lipstick. Fon caught sight of Ben looking at her in the mirror and smiled.

  ‘What’s the war paint for?’ he asked.

  ‘What you say?’

  ‘The make-up. Where are you going?’

  ‘Dancing,’ she said breezily. Ben felt a surge of anxiety.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Diamond Bar. Maybe go Meridian later.’

  He was none the wiser, nor did he care so long as he could go dancing too. With the make-up ritual over, he now realised the sisters were about to make a move.

  ‘Who’s going dancing?’ he asked.

  ‘Me and Jinda,’ said Fon. ‘Gaeo cannot … married woman, wait husband. Joy sleep here with Gaeo.’

  ‘But what about me? Am I coming?’ he asked, on tenterhooks.

  ‘No. Farang men not dance with us … only ladies. You want to go?’

  ‘Course I want to. More than anything.’

  ‘Okay then, we take you … this time.’

  Grasping her glossy black hair in both hands, she twisted it tightly into a rope and coiled it at the back of her head, securing it through with a pin. Now for the first time Ben saw her with her hair up in formal Asian style, displaying the elegance of her neck, her finely-sculpted head and profile. Her simple act of sinuously throwing her arms back and arranging her hair, he found distinctly erotic. It was made sweeter when he noticed that the pin she had pushed through it was an ordinary blue biro. So little adornment achieved such effect on this lovely girl.

  When at last she was ready, Fon slipped into some green plastic flip flops, swept out of the room and headed off towards the beach in the darkness with Jinda and Ben following close behind. Reaching the path along the shore she stopped, told Ben to wait and disappeared with Jinda into the darkness under the trees. Ben was now getting used to this sort of thing, so he stood and waited for them. After about ten minutes they came back with another girl of about the same age.

  ‘This Goong,’ said Fon. ‘Goong means shrimp … she big so they call her Shrimp!’

  ‘Hi, Goong. Sawasdee krap,’ said Ben, careful not to shake hands. Thais do not shake hands Maca had told him.

  ‘Goong come from our place, Isaan. We not know her before but now she friend Jinda. She massage here six months,’ said Fon.

  Goong had an open and fresh innocence about her. Her nicest feature was her smile which went from ear to ear, her eyes crinkling up and almost disappearing from view.

  The four of them got under way again and soon reached the last night spot at the end of the beach. The Diamond Bar consisted of a wooden building thatched with palm fronds on a terrace among the rocks. It was stylishly done in the manner of a South Sea island beach hut and was decorated with fish nets, dried puffer fish and other trappings. Even the coloured lights hanging in the trees added to the atmosphere and did not look too tacky. The bar itself was well-stocked with bottles, a fridge, sound system and all the modern amenities. Somewhere a generator was beating steadily for their sole benefit. A sign boldly declared, “Kitchen open 10.00am to 11.00pm”, though the place seemed totally dead; there was nobody about.

  Fon directed everyone to a table and called loudly in Thai. A bleary youth emerged from behind the bar where he had been asleep in a hammock and brought them drinks. Beer in hand, Ben then looked around him and took stock. It was hard to believe he was sitting under the stars at the end of a tropical beach of white sand, looking at the brightly coloured lights of the bars and restaurants around the bay. Only months after getting his Geography degree, here he was on Koh Samet enjoying a whole new world of experience, out for an evening’s dancing with three Thai girls, all of them accepting him warmly into their inner circle and one of them perhaps the most bewitching woman in the world. Though he was still sober, he could not quite believe that this was not just some fevered fantasy. Feeling well-pleased with himself, he began to wonder what was going to happen next. Where was the disco and the dancing?

  Jinda and Goong disappeared behind the bar and chatted to the boy over a pile of CDs, and as the powerful sound erupted from loudspeakers in the trees, they started dancing on a small concrete space next to the bar. The Lao songs from Isaan were their favourites and had them both leaping wildly. When Jinda came and dragged Fon onto the floor, they danced together, leaving Ben watching from the table. For a moment he felt an irrelevance; the music was unfamiliar and he was worried about looking ridiculous on the dancefloor. But he was given little chance to be a wallflower as Fon came back to the table and grabbed him firmly by the hand. Willingly he followed, and, like a maniac, he danced as he had never danced before. He had never enjoyed dancing so much, but best of all was watching Fon. She was an elegant and graceful dancer, but so very sexy at the same time. He could not take his eyes off her as she danced in borrowed brown shorts and flip flops, her hair pinned up with an old biro, taking a brief and joyful respite from the weight of her family responsibilities.

  As they danced, the bar was theirs alone. The three girls chose a variety of CDs; Thai pop, sixties and seventies, rock, the whole range of western music. Ben in his tidy shirt and cotton trousers was soon soaked through with sweat. It was totally intoxicating, with Fon dancing like a angel. They danced on into the night and it seemed to him that their or
gy of energy and sound never need stop. But then without warning they were plunged into total darkness as the sound of music gave way to the sound of silence; the bar’s generator had given out. The girls all shrieked with surprise as they bumped into things in the darkness, loudly laughing and joking. There was to be no more dancing at the Diamond Bar that night.

  ‘Can you ride motorbike?’ Fon asked Ben.

  ‘Not very well. Why?’

  ‘Then we walk.’

  ‘Walk where?’

  ‘Meridian,’ she said without explaining.

  The three girls picked their way out of the Diamond Bar in the darkness and went back in the direction of the coast path, Ben following on behind. They soon came to a steep headland which formed the end of a bay. With Fon in the lead, they picked their way through the huts and started to climb almost vertically upwards into the forest. Under the canopy of trees it was impossibly dark. The path, if there was one at all, was rough and rocky, criss-crossed with eroded tree roots as hazardous as tripwires.

  They reached level ground at the top of the cliff, the path coming out of the trees into low scrub. Walking was now easier as the clouds had cleared and the moon was sailing white and enormous over the sea. Ben could see the dark spine of the island, the sea shining in the moonlight and a distant view of surf breaking on sand. Stumbling along at the back of the line, trying to see where to put his feet and to keep up with the others, wanting to look at the view and listening to the sounds of the surf and the insects of the night, he thought he must be dreaming. But the best bit of the dream was there in front of him, confidently leading the three of them over the rocky ground in her flip flops and brown shorts.

  At the end of the headland the path dropped down again to the water’s edge and from there they walked on squeaky sand from beach to beach. Up ahead were the tables and chairs of a bar set up on the sand, the table lamps winking in the dark. One beach followed another, one lotus eaters’ paradise improved upon by the next.

  Finally they climbed a flight of stairs almost lost in the trees and reached a bar full of people and palm trees and pulsating with music. This was the Meridian, the prime place to dance and be seen on Koh Samet. Much larger than the Diamond, it was alive with travellers and backpackers, a great scene, a cool place to hang out. Ben was entranced.

  Fon chose a table where they could look out over the sea and they all sat down. Ben went to the bar and bought colas for the girls and beer for himself. It was still drinking time and nobody was yet dancing.

  ‘You like? Sanuk dee mai?’ asked Fon.

  ‘Yes, it’s wonderful. I think I’ve gone to heaven,’ said Ben.

  ‘Heaven? Okay, I come too … see you next life,’ she said joyfully.

  The music was too loud to talk easily so Ben sat and exchanged smiles across the table with her and watched her eyes sparkling with laughter and lightness. He could not begin to fathom what she felt about their relationship, if indeed there even was one.

  ‘Come, Jinda,’ said Fon, ‘Dancing!’ Fon got up and made for the dance floor, followed by Goong and Jinda. This time Ben did not hesitate and went with them. He watched the girls dancing, ignoring him totally, but then they casually took him into their circle and they all danced together.

  Ben enjoyed himself more at the Meridian than he ever had at university or in some dingy Brighton club. This was the place to be, by the sea and in the open air, with people from all over the world mixing easily, enjoying freedom and warmth. He was with the ones he liked the best, these children of Isaan with their innocent sense of fun, joyfully embracing the global culture of music and dance. And he was with Fon, without whom he felt edgy, agitated, incomplete and in whose company he now felt total euphoria.

  The music pounded and provoked, each new track providing fresh vigour. The evening seemed to go on forever, a night of great music, a natural high free of artificial stimulants. Ben was now on iced water as he was sweating profusely, and even the three Thais who usually seemed so cool, were now more than glowing.

  He did not want it ever to stop, but it was getting late and as the bar would soon close, he wanted a final dance with Fon. She let him dance with her for a few moments, smiling up at him, then turned away and mixed with the others on the crowded dance floor. Perhaps it was too public for them to be seen as a couple, Ben guessed, though he did not really understand what was going on.

  When a slow track came on that none of them liked, they all returned to the table to recover. Fon looked at her watch and pronounced it time to go.

  ‘Bar close in ten minutes. Can walk back okay, Ben?’

  ‘Yeah, suppose so. What’s the alternative?’

  ‘Sorngthaew.’

  ‘You mean a pick-up? How much is it?’

  ‘Maybe 400 baht.’

  ‘Okay, no problem, I’ll pay. Let’s get a sorngthaew,’ he said without hesitation.

  Leaving behind the noise of the Meridian, they wandered out into the quiet of the night and walked for a few moments. Just up the track was a battered pick-up truck with no bumpers and missing one of its front wings. Fon went over and Ben could see her talking to the driver, who had been asleep in the cab. They all climbed into the open back of the pick-up and sat down on the hard, narrow seats on each side, Fon getting in first, followed by Ben who sat immediately behind her. The track was dusty and rough with steep rocky patches. The moon illuminated the way ahead, the vehicle pitching and bucking on its hard suspension as it plunged into the potholes, still muddy at the bottom even though it was well into the dry season.

  Ben found it hard work clinging on as they were bounced around against the sides of the truck, so he held onto a steel hoop just in front of Fon to steady himself. Without a word, she then leaned back and nestled herself into the crook of his arm. Holding on firmly, he cushioned her from the battering, cradling her body against his, their contact natural and easy. She remained silent, no longer chatting or joking, the high mood of the evening now over, though for Ben it was a rare moment of closeness and intimacy.

  When the pick-up pulled into the track behind the beach at Ao Sapporot, they all got down and Ben paid the driver. Goong disappeared into the darkness with no pause for goodbyes and he, Jinda and Fon walked back along the beach together. At the usual place by the fallen tree, he knew that Fon and Jinda would turn inland and go back to their hut without him. Now should be the time for a warm parting from Fon, perhaps a kiss, but he knew that was not how it was going to be.

  ‘Really great evening, Fon. Thanks,’ he said. Fon looked at him and smiled and without a word turned and walked away into the trees with Jinda.

  Ben felt as if his heart had been cut out and cast into the sea. The exhaustion was beginning to come over him as he went back to his grubby little hut. It had been a great day with Fon; taking the boat into Ban Phe that morning, eating with her in the evening and finally and best, the dancing; a day in which all his expectations had been aroused. But now it was over. Even after showering, he was hot and uncomfortable and had difficulty falling asleep.

  15

  When Ben awoke during the night with a pounding head and raging thirst, thoughts of Fon immediately filled his hazy brain. As he tried to escape into oblivion, he could see her smiling face, he could hear her voice teasing and arousing him. It was pleasurable, tantalising, sweet and sad.

  Disturbed by the cockerels at first light, Fon again came to him, but as he lay sprawled on the bed in the sticky dampness of the morning, he realised he was missing Emma. Their relationship had been so comfortable and familiar that it was hard to be apart from her. In just a few days on the twenty fifth, they would share a luxury room at the Regal in Bangkok and he was looking forward to it, though confusingly, he also wanted Fon.

  When he dragged himself out of bed, he felt lethargic and low. Standing on the bare concrete floor of the wash room, he contemplated the cracked ceramic of the squat loo as he poured scoops of cold water over his head. Squatting down he could feel the tightness in his legs
from the walking and dancing the previous evening, which now already seemed an age ago.

  At breakfast he realised that from where he was sitting, he would see Fon as she came down to the beach to start work; she always arrived at about eight thirty to walk up and down offering massage and manicure to the first of the tourists to claim their deckchairs and loungers. So when he had finished eating, he decided to stay at his table in the hope of seeing her. To pass the time, he went over to the shelf of paperbacks and picked up a copy of “Trainspotting” which he recognised from the movie still on the cover. He stared at the title page but the book was not “Trainspotting” but “Togtitting”. ‘Norwegian or something,’ he muttered to himself.

  Then everything began to happen at once. Maca and Chuck came into the bar to order breakfast and joined him just at the very moment he saw Fon walk by on the sand only fifty yards from him. Though he was sitting exactly where she might expect him to be at this time of the morning, she did not even turn her head to see if he was there.

  ‘How y’doin’ Ben, me old mate?’ said Maca. ‘Hardly ever see you around these days.’

  Ben could see that Fon was now talking to a middle-aged man and pointing out a place for a massage. ‘Having a great time,’ he said. ‘Ban Phe yesterday and boogying last night.’

  ‘Go on your own?’

  ‘No, went with Fon.’

  ‘Goodoh! I should’ve guessed,’ said Maca.

  Ben watched Fon as she spread out her sheet and started the massage.

  ‘You two been busy then?’ he asked, now glad of someone to talk to.

  ‘Snorkelling, chilling out and stuff,’ said Maca. ‘So when are you thinking of moving on, Ben?’

  ‘Go to Bangkok on the twenty fifth, then maybe back here. Not sure yet.’

  ‘Watch this space!’ said Maca with a wider than usual grin.

  As Ben now knew where Fon would be for the next hour, he went up to his room to wash a few clothes. When he returned to the beach she had just finished the massage and had been joined by the two middle-aged masseuses and the little old lady who sold som tam. Looking amazingly fresh and well-slept despite the late night, she saw him coming and called him over.