Bar Girl (16 page)

‘Why?’ Siswan asked.

‘The lady boys will beat or even kill anyone working their beach, Bee. Everyone knows that. Even the police stay away,’ Noy explained. ‘The beach work at night makes a lot of money. The lady boys aren’t worried about picking pockets either.’

‘They steal?’ Siswan was amazed.

No one she knew actually stole. It was against all the rules of their religion. Mustn’t kill or steal. It wasn’t good for the soul and you’d never get into heaven.

‘They only steal from the farangs, Bee. That doesn’t really count, you know.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well, the farangs are rich. They can afford it. They have too much money anyway. No one really cares about a drunk farang losing a few thousand. What does it matter? He just goes to an ATM machine and gets some more,’ Noy laughed. ‘They really are stupid.’

‘Who? The lady boys or the farangs?’ Siswan asked.

‘The farangs, of course. They just want sex. They’ll pay to get it as well,’ Noy said.

Her voice sounded a little unsure. Uncertain of what she had just said. She went quiet.

Siswan didn’t speak for a while either. If the farangs were stupid how come they had so much money? It didn’t make sense to her. If they were stupid, how could they afford to pay for a holiday to this place? How could they afford to pay for the sex they wanted? She didn’t understand. Who, exactly, was being stupid?

‘My name isn’t Bee,’ she said, at last. ‘It’s Siswan.’

‘Mine’s Sood,’ Noy told her.

‘I think we’re the stupid ones, Sood.’

‘I think you’re right,’ Sood answered, softly. The earlier excitement in her voice had passed. ‘Let’s go and buy some whiskey.’

‘No. I don’t like whiskey.’

They sat on the wet sand and watched the waves roll up to their feet. They both sat in silence until Sood broke it.

‘We can’t just sit here all night, Siswan.’

‘No. I suppose not.’ Siswan would have been quite happy to do just that.

‘Come on. Let’s go.’

‘Where?’

‘We’ll walk along the beach. There might be another farang,’ Sood didn’t sound so enthusiastic about meeting another westerner.

The two girls walked along the sand. They carried their flip flops and allowed the sea to wash over their feet. Siswan loved the feel of the cool water swirling around her ankles. Her shorts and shirt were still wet but she didn’t mind. It was a warm evening and they would soon dry.

They didn’t meet any more farangs as they walked and Siswan was pleased that they didn’t. She had secretly hoped they wouldn’t. Once they had walked to the far end of the beach they turned and came back along the pavement under the palm trees. The noise of the traffic drowned out the sound of the waves breaking on the shore. The music emanating from the bars on the other side of the road sounded presumptuous and phony compared to the rhythmic beat of the ocean. Man’s puny attempt to copy the pure music of nature.

When they reached the point where they had first crossed the busy road, Siswan turned to cross again. Sood stopped her.

‘I’m not going to go back just yet, Siswan,’ she told her, almost as an apology.

Siswan looked at her friend in the lights cast by the bars and restaurants. Her face looked sad.

‘Okay. When you get back don’t touch my clothes,’ Siswan joked, and took her hand. Held it for a moment. Let Sood know that she understood. That she knew.

‘I won’t be long. Just another hour or so,’ Sood smiled her thanks in reply. Siswan stood for a moment watching as her friend crossed the road and wandered along the busy street. Soon she was lost to sight. Enveloped by the tourists.

*****

The following day Siswan awoke alone in the small room. She knew she would. There was no surprise. When she had watched Sood disappear in the crowds the previous night she knew she wouldn’t see her again. Something in her manner. The way she had walked away. Siswan allowed herself a pang of regret.

She went to the bathroom and showered. Put on clean clothes. Went downstairs to see what was for breakfast. A few of the other girls were already up and preparing the morning meal. A great pile of clothes had already arrived to be washed. The gas flames under the big copper boilers were already lit and the water was warming. The smell of caustic soda hung in the air.

Siswan walked over to the first of the piles of clothes. She began separating them into various piles that matched their ownership. She sifted quickly through the pockets of the shorts and trousers that she came across. Always the dream. Follow the dream.

As she delved through the pockets of a pair of cargo shorts she felt something in one of the small pockets. The pockets were so small that they weren’t intended to actually hold anything. Just for show. A fashion statement. Obviously the owner hadn’t realised and had put something in one of them. She pushed her finger deep into the small pocket. Only big enough to carry a pencil, or maybe a small, rolled up piece of paper. No wonder no one had found whatever it was before.

It didn’t feel much larger than the seams holding the shorts together. She hooked her finger slightly, caught the bottom of the object. Pulled. A tight roll of paper came out with her finger. Hardly bigger than a cigarette.

‘What are you doing here, Bee?’ A voice from behind her. Ma’s voice. Siswan quickly fisted the roll of paper. Hid it from view against her palm.

She turned towards Ma, dropping the shorts back onto the pile.

‘I’m just sorting the clothes,’ she said, trying not to sound guilty.

‘It’s your day off, you stupid girl. Or don’t you want a day off?’ Ma scorned. Siswan had forgotten. Completely forgotten. Her mind hadn’t been able to comprehend a whole day off, so she had forgotten about it. The concern for Sood, the knowledge that she wouldn’t be there in the morning, the events of the previous evening had been enough. A whole day. To do what? Suddenly she knew. She knew exactly what she was going to do with her day off.

‘Oh, no. I mean, yes. I just came for some breakfast. It wasn’t ready so I started sorting the clothes. Just helping out. Sorry,’ she blurted to the portly old woman.

‘Stupid girl,’ Ma said again, and wandered back to the house.

Siswan quickly pocketed the small roll and went across the yard to see if breakfast was ready. As she turned away, she checked which pile the shorts had come from. It wasn’t one of the big hotels. An apartment block, just a short walk from the workhouse, sometimes sent their sheets and guests’ clothes to be laundered.

The apartments were for locals who had money or, sometimes, long term farangs who were either retired or working. She guessed the shorts belonged to a farang. They were large. Too large for a local.

After she had eaten, Siswan walked back down the small street to the beach road. It was quiet at that time of the morning. A few people wandered along, mostly locals on their way to work. Some street cleaners were picking up the refuse left from the night before. A few motorbikes whisked their drivers and passengers to wherever they wanted to go.

A dog, a flea bitten old mongrel with a nasty scar running down the side of its face, was sniffing around some dustbins. Hoping for a meal. Preferably meat.

It looked up at Siswan as she passed and for a moment they locked eyes. The dog turned away to continue its exploration.

The beach was virtually deserted. A few people were walking along in the sand but not many. One or two of the piles of sun beds were being laid out ready for the influx of tourists all wanting to laze in the sun. Siswan looked out at the ocean. It was huge. As big as the sky. The waves pounded in against the shore and the sound, as they crashed down, was almost frightening in its intensity. She immediately realised that the previous night she had only ventured a very short way into the water. The waves beyond where she had splashed about were huge. Taller than she stood.

She sat on the sand and looked out to sea in total fascination. Each wave began to rise far out to sea. Then, as it neared the shore, it rose higher and higher, until the very top of the wave fell down onto the base. The water curled downwards and, for a moment, the wave formed a tube. A tunnel of water. Siswan imagined what it would be like inside. Completely surrounded by water! The tunnels, or tubes, didn’t last for long. The weight of the water above came crashing down to form great walls of white foam that surged towards the shore. Each time a wave rolled in, it became smaller and smaller until, finally, it lapped gently at her feet as she sat on the sand.

She picked one out with her eyes. Far out, beyond the white splashing foam. She followed its progress as it travelled towards her. Rising. Rising higher. Folding. Turning into a tunnel. The roar of sound as it crashed down. The white churning foam as it surged towards the beach. The slowing down. Fading away. Smaller. Smaller. Would it reach her feet? Would it have the strength to wash over the water from the previous wave that was already beginning to flow back to the sea? Come on little wave, she thought, you can do it. She pushed her feet further towards the small wave as it fought to reach her. By now, the huge tunnel of water she had watched earlier was just a small ripple as it eventually nudged against her feet. It had made it.

She felt a sense of loss as it receded back down the sand to find its way back to the sea. Within moments it was engulfed by the next wave and she could follow its progress no more.

She felt an affinity with each wave as it tried to climb the sands of the beach to reach her. The waves kept coming. One after another. To Siswan, as she sat watching them, they seemed alive. To be the guardians of the sea. Each one ready to throw anyone who tried to get past them, back onto the shore. To reach the relative calm beyond the waves, you first had to get past their ferocity. Like obstacles blocking your path to a calmer future they stood against you. Had to be overcome.

The sea was just like her life, she thought to herself. If she wanted to get somewhere she was going to have to get past these obstacles. The things that stood in her way. With the sea it was easy to see the problem. The waves were there. One after another. Ready to toss you back. To discard you. Her problems were just like that. To get anywhere she was going to have to fight. To overcome each obstacle that presented itself to her.

She listed the problems in her mind; her own waves. She had no money apart from the fifty Sood had given her, she was too young, she felt alone now that her friend had gone and she didn’t know what she was doing.

She could make money by offering pleasure to men but she didn’t want to do that again. The main problem was not knowing what she was supposed to be doing with her life. She had to decide what it was she wanted. What she could do. Why, when it came right down to it, was she here? Why was she alive? A reason to live. That was what she needed more than anything else.

Suddenly, to her right, there was the sound of police sirens. A wailing banshee of noise that brought her out of her reverie. People were running down towards the sea. Towards the waves. She couldn’t see what it was they had seen but there seemed to be much excitement. She stood and started to walk towards the attraction.

By the time she arrived, quite a big crowd had gathered. They all seemed focused on something lying in the shallows. She pushed through the crowds. Tried to see what was causing all the fuss. Couldn’t get through.

From the far side of the crowd came the shouts of policemen as they forced their way through the gathering throng. People moved away. Away from the police as they cleared a path for the ambulance crew.

As the crowd moved, a gap opened in front of Siswan. A gap big enough for her to see through. She could see what it was that had attracted all the people.

Suddenly, at that precise moment, Siswan knew exactly why she was there. Why she was alive. Suddenly, like a wave crashing down around her, all her doubts were washed away. The clarity in her mind was stunning in its simplicity.

As Siswan stared down at the dead body of her friend, the answer to her earlier question became obvious. As she took in the pale, water-soaked skin, the dark bruises that marked Sood’s face, the cuts on her arms, the deep, vivid red gash that wound its way around her throat, Siswan knew exactly what it was she was going to do. Waves or no waves.