Bar Girl (33 page)

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Authors: David Thompson

Tags: #Asia, #David Thompson, #Bars, #Bar, #Life in Asia, #Thai girl, #Asian girls, #Bar Girl, #Siswan, #Pattaya, #Land of Smiles

BOOK: Bar Girl
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She didn’t say anything. Her stomach was sending signals she didn’t like. There was something in his manner. Something different about him. She couldn’t figure out what it was. Almost as though he found this as unpleasant as she did.

‘An old man in a park, Siswan. A young girl who ran away. I often wondered how you got that scar on your arm,’ he told her.

‘Why didn’t you just ask? Most people do,’ she answered, as calmly as her beating heart would allow.

Was it all over? Had she come this far to be thrown back by a wave she couldn’t possibly overcome? Would her promises to Sood, to Karn and now to Lon, all be in vain?

‘I didn’t want to, Siswan. I didn’t want to pry into your past,’ he said.

‘But you did though, Mirak. You did pry didn’t you?’ She looked at him.

‘I didn’t know it was you until now, Siswan,’ he told her. ‘Of course I could have proved it anyway. You left blood traces all over the place. A simple enough test. The old man died in the hospital two days after you ran away.’

‘So, what happens now?’ she asked.

She knew then that it was all over. If the old man had died then she would be charged with his murder. There was no way she could prove he had attacked her.

‘We could go two ways with this, Siswan,’ Mirak said.

‘Two ways?’ she said.

He looked at her. He didn’t smile. Hadn’t smiled from the moment he’d arrived. He seemed troubled. As though he were being torn in two.

‘This could all be forgotten. I could just file it away and it would never come to light again.’

‘Or?’

‘Or, I could hand the case to my superiors, allow them the honour of arresting you. That would do well for my career.’

‘And what would it take for you to file it away?’ she asked, even though she had guessed the answer.

‘Five million,’ he told her, without enthusiasm.

She couldn’t stop the look of distaste that showed on her face. The man she had once loved was stood in front of her demanding money. He was nothing to her. Just another man. Another man who wanted money.

‘I’m taking a big risk for you, Siswan,’ he said.

‘Okay, Mirak,’ she said. ‘It’ll take a few days to arrange. I’ll call you.’

‘Alright,’ he said.

‘Once you have the money, you’ll give me the file?’ she asked.

‘Yes, that can be arranged,’ he said.

‘Okay. Three days. I’ll have the money. You bring the file. No file, no money,’ she stated.

He didn’t say another word. Just turned and left. Leaving her alone. The noise of the coolers suddenly seemed too loud. She was so angry, so annoyed! It took several minutes before she was able to walk back out into the main bar. All that she had done. All that she had been through. It could all be ruined by something from her past. The obstacles she had surmounted seemed nothing in comparison to what was facing her now.

She had five million, just about anyway. She could borrow some from Mike, or Apple, if she needed to. But what if he came back for more? What if he made a copy of the file? She wasn’t sure she could trust him. He had seemed so strained tonight. Not his normal confident self. What had been going through his mind?

Her second visitor called just as she was closing the bar. The customers had left, some with girls, others alone, and she was about to lock up and walk down to see Mike. As she reached up to lock the inner door, it was pushed back against her.

‘We’re closed,’ she said, before looking at who was trying to get in.

‘Not for me, Siswan,’ a voice replied.

She looked up. Mirak had surprised her when he had called earlier but the shock she got as she stared into the face of the man who stood in front of her almost caused her to cry out. She put a hand to her mouth and stared at the face of her brother.

‘You remember me, don’t you, Siswan?’ he asked.

‘What do you want, Bak?’

‘Oh, just a chat. You know, catch up with the family.’ He smiled.

‘Well I’m just leaving,’ she told him.

‘Yes. Off to meet your farang boyfriend. He’s a little old, don’t you think?’

‘He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my boss and he’s expecting me,’ she said.

‘He’ll wait a while, Siswan. We need to talk.’

‘What about? I’ve nothing to say to you, Bak.’

He pushed further into the bar. She couldn’t prevent him from walking in. He was bigger than she remembered. A real man now. Not some teenager who acted like one.

‘But I have things to say to you, Siswan,’ he told her, as he walked to the bar.

She followed him. What else could she do? She had listened to Mirak. Listened to his threats and demands. Now she had to do the same with her brother. She knew it would boil down to money again. That’s what it always came down to. Money or sex. The two things men thought about more than anything else. As she followed she slipped her knife out of her handbag and into the back pocket of her trousers.

‘Okay, Bak. I’m listening,’ she told him.

Stepping behind the bar he poured himself a whiskey. He smiled at her as he did so, daring her to complain. To protest.

‘You went to the funeral.’ It was a statement rather than a question.

‘Yes,’ she said.

‘I didn’t know he’d died until a few days ago.’ He sipped the whiskey.

‘No one knew where you were,’ she said.

‘Oh, I’ve been to a lot of places, Siswan. Learned a lot of things,’ he told her.

She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. He was going to do the talking. She could tell from his manner that he wasn’t interested in what she had to say. She just had to listen.

‘You’ve got rich from what I taught you, Siswan,’ he told her. ‘Made a lot of money from your farang friends.’

‘You taught me nothing, Bak,’ she said, the familiar anger building up within her.

‘A lot of the girls I taught are now making a lot of money,’ he looked at her and grinned. ‘Oh, you weren’t the last, Siswan. I have a lot of girls who are thankful for the things I taught them. So thankful that they pay me.’

‘So, you’re a pimp now?’ she sneered.

‘Call me what you like. It doesn’t matter. The girls look after me,’ he said.

‘So, if you are being looked after, what do you want from me?’ she asked.

‘Oh, they’re good girls. Do as they are told. But they can’t earn much, Siswan. Not like you,’ he told her. ‘You’ve got a good thing going here with your farang.’

‘I’m not giving you anything, Bak. I told you before. I don’t care what happens to you!’ She was angry now.

‘You owe me! You left me with nothing. I had to fight to survive. I had to struggle in the city to make a living!’ he shouted in reply.

‘You mean you had to find some other poor girl to work for you!’ She spat the words at him.

‘You bitch,’ he shouted again. ‘You left me with nothing, not even a mother to take care of me. You took her away!’

Without warning he struck her across the cheek with the back of his hand. She just managed to turn her head. Just managed to divert most of the blow. To avoid the pain.

‘This is what you left me with, Siswan! This!’

He was pushing the back of his hand in her face. Showing her the scar that she had given him so many years before.

‘You deserved it, you bastard.’

As she shouted at him her hand slipped behind her. Felt for the knife. She pulled it from her pocket, pressed the button and whipped the small blade at his face. She was fast. As fast as a scorpion, but he was faster.

Pulling his head back, away from the vicious blade that threatened to cut him, he brought his hand around. Caught her wrist as it passed by his eyes. Twisted it violently. She cried out, dropped the knife.

‘I was expecting that, little sister,’ he told her. ‘Like I told you, I’ve learned a lot.’

He let go of her wrist, picked up the knife, examined it.

‘Nasty,’ he said with a grin. ‘Just like its owner.’

She held her wrist with her other hand. Looked at him. He was a man now. Faster. More controlled than he had been the last time she had cut him.

‘Now this is what you should be using, Siswan,’ he said, reaching behind his back. ‘An automatic. Nine rounds. Not much good at a distance, but close up, close like this, it’s a real killer.’

He pushed the barrel of the pistol into her ribs.

‘Up close like this, it would cause a real mess,’ he told her, grinning.

‘What do you want, Bak?’ she asked him, quietly.

‘I want what’s due to me, Siswan,’ he smiled. ‘I want what’s mine.’

‘What?’

‘Oh, let’s call it a partnership. That’s good isn’t it? A partnership.’

‘Mike owns the bars. I don’t own anything.’

‘Well, we can soon deal with Mike,’ he told her.

At the thought of Mike getting hurt, Siswan almost gave up. Almost agreed to whatever Bak wanted. She could do it. She could warn Mike, get him to go away. He had enough money. He and Rican could set up somewhere else. She almost agreed to everything. In the end, she didn’t need to.

‘Who are you?’ Bak said, looking past her shoulder.

She turned, looked to where her brother was staring. Mirak stood in the doorway. He had a large brown envelope in his hand. He ignored Bak’s question.

‘Siswan. I’m sorry. I need to talk with you again,’ he said.

Siswan looked at his face, back to her brother’s. She didn’t know what to do. For the first time since leaving the village, she didn’t know what to do. She felt powerless. The more she looked at the two men the more she realised that she couldn’t tell them apart. One became the other. They looked the same. They looked like men.

Just two men in a world of millions. How could she ever overcome so many? How could she have ever held a dream in her heart? How did she ever have the nerve to make promises to her friends that she didn’t ever have a hope of fulfilling?

‘I can’t,’ she whispered.

‘That’s right. She’s busy now. Come back later,’ Bak said to Mirak and pushed the gun harder into Siswan’s ribs.

Mirak obviously hadn’t seen the gun. Hadn’t seen the look of shock in Siswan’s eyes. Hadn’t heard the veiled threat in Bak’s voice. He couldn’t have. He couldn’t have noticed all those things and still walked towards her.

‘I just want a quick word,’ he said.

‘I told you, she’s busy! Fuck off!’ Bak shouted at him.

He kept coming. Kept walking towards where she stood. He kept his eyes on hers. Didn’t look at Bak.

‘I’m warning you!’ Bak pulled the gun up, pointed it at Mirak.

Siswan didn’t see all that happened in that moment. She saw Mirak drop the envelope, saw the pistol the envelope had concealed. She heard the bang next to her ear, saw the flash from the barrel. She ducked away. Down in front of the bar. She put her hands over her ears, squeezed her eyes shut.

She may have screamed, she didn’t know. The noise from the gun was so loud! It wasn’t like the films on television. It wasn’t a mild explosion of sound. It was a bang. A bang like a thunderclap of noise that threatened to deafen her. Even as it died away, left her ears ringing, another bang. Even louder than the first. The smell of burnt smoke. The ringing sound.

She crouched low by the bar. Didn’t know what was happening. The buzzing in her ears grew less. Faded enough for her to take her hands away. She opened her eyes. She was still in the bar. Her eyes took in the legs of the stool she had fallen beside. She looked around. Slowly. Afraid of what she may see.

Bak lay to her right. His eyes were open. At first she didn’t see what it was that looked different about him. At first he looked just like he always had in her mind. A boy. A young boy who liked to laugh as he caught fish in the pond.

As she stared her eyes finally understood what was different. The hole in his forehead. The blood running from the back of where his scull should have been. She could see grey and white glistening under the red veil that poured out of the back of his head. He stared at the ceiling with a gaze that would last forever.

She looked over to where Mirak had stood. He was lying on the ground clutching his stomach. She saw the revolver lying beside him on the floor.

Staggering to her feet, she went to him. Went to the man she had once loved. She fell to her knees at his side.

‘Mirak!’ she cried and reached out to him.

He turned, looked up at her. His face was white, the blood drained away from it. His eyes were half closed in pain. Blood ran through his hands and spilled onto the floor.

‘Siswan,’ he groaned.

‘Mirak. I’ll call for help,’ she cried at him. ‘Wait. Wait for them.’

She ran back to the bar, clutched for her handbag. Grabbed her phone. She dialled the number as she reached him.

‘Get the envelope,’ he rasped at her. ‘Get the envelope.’

She reached over him. Picked up the brown envelope he had been carrying. One side was covered in his blood.

‘Siswan,’ he said, weakly. ‘Siswan, I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t talk. Just be strong. Help is on the way.’

She spoke quickly into the telephone when her call was answered. Told the woman at the other end to send an ambulance. Told her a policeman had been shot.

‘Get rid of the envelope,’ he told her, as he rocked back and forth on his side.

She looked inside. It was the file. The file he had threatened her with earlier. Why had he come back early? Three days, he’d said. They had agreed three days.

‘Siswan,’ he whispered. ‘I love you.’

‘I love you as well, Mirak,’ she replied.

She didn’t know if was the truth. She didn’t know what to think. She stood. She wasn’t sure what to do. Get rid of the envelope, he’d said. She ran back towards the bar, towards the small cellar. She saw her knife lying on the floor near the bar. Picked it up.

She put the envelope and the knife at the back of the shelf that held the pipes for the beer kegs. No one would see them there. She ran back to Mirak, fell to her knees once again. She held him. Took his head in her hands.

‘Thank you, Mirak,’ she said to him. ‘Thank you.’

She didn’t know why he’d done it. Why he had changed his mind. All she knew was that he had. He’d come back to her. To give her the file. To say sorry.

The ambulance and the police finally arrived. All the time Siswan had held Mirak’s head. Stroked his face. Waited with him. He hadn’t spoken again. Nor had she. There was nothing to say. Nothing that would help. He had come back. That was all that mattered.

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