Hothouse Flower (43 page)

‘Gosh, yes.’ He wagged his finger at her. ‘I am warning you, I may never want to leave.’

‘Then you must become fisherman,’ she said, handing him his clothes.

‘I can learn,’ Harry nodded, ‘if it means I can stay here forever.’

‘You want to go for wash?’ she asked. ‘There is water pipe behind my uncle and aunt’s hut, and cloth for you to dry yourself. I wait here.’ Lidia sat down on the doorstep of his hut.

Harry returned five minutes later, feeling refreshed after a blast of clean, cold water.

‘Now, we walk to village and I take you to my grandmother house, okay?’ She reached for his hand and squeezed it. ‘And happy
Song Kran
,
Khun
Harry.’

He loved the touch of her fingers on his. ‘And the same to you,’ Harry replied, suddenly desperate to take her in his arms and kiss her.

They made their way along a narrow, sandy path for ten minutes to reach the village. As they turned into the dusty main street, they were both drenched by a pail of water thrown by a couple of children, who screamed in glee at their accuracy.

‘What the heck!’ exclaimed Harry, the cold water taking him by surprise.

Lidia was doing her best to shake herself dry. She giggled. ‘
Song Kran
, it is about cleansing, taking away all dirt from past, and making new and fresh for the future. Look …’

Harry followed where she was pointing. Everywhere along the dusty street, there were people of assorted ages holding a miscellany of implements, throwing water on to any hapless passer-by in the way.

‘Today is one day you will never get too hot,’ Lidia laughed, ‘and you will not be dry either!’

She was climbing up the steps to a wooden house built on stilts. On the veranda was a collection of pails and buckets, filled with water.

‘This is my grandparents’ house,’ Lidia explained, ‘and now you must throw some water like this. See?’ Lidia took one of the pails and chucked it into the street; Harry did the same, managing to hit a small boy, who shrieked and giggled as he shook the water out of his eyes.

‘Sorry,’ called Harry guiltily.

‘No!’ Lidia shook her head. ‘You must not say sorry! The more people you hit, the luckier for New Year.’

‘I see,’ said Harry.

Lidia led him inside the house and into the kitchen at the back, where three or four women were busy preparing vegetables, fish, noodles and soup for later in the day.

‘Harry is here,’ she called to her grandmother, who turned round and gave him a wide, toothless grin. ‘You see, we make special feast for our lunch. It is tradition.’

‘Thank you. Can I do anything to help?’ Harry asked.

‘No, you are guest. And we Thais never ask men to do woman’s work. You stay here, you relax, okay?’

She headed back into the kitchen and Harry sat on the veranda, watching the water rituals in the street below him. The sound of laughter and the sense of joy that pervaded the village were uplifting. Even though this tiny community, adrift in the middle of the sea, had little in the way of material possessions, he felt the warmth. Having only seen the brutal side of humanity for four long years, the sight brought a tear to his eye.

When Lidia reappeared from the kitchen, she was holding a large basket of fruit and vegetables.

‘We go visiting, Harry, to bring
Song Kran
gift to the old and sick of the village. You come with me?’

Harry stood up. ‘Of course. Here, let me take that.’ He hooked the heavy basket over his arm and followed Lidia down the steps.

They spent the next hour in and out of the houses all over the village. Lidia encouraged Harry to put his hands together in the
wai
and pronounce the traditional greeting: ‘
Sawadee krup
’. She explained that they offered gifts to the elderly, who, in return, offered to cleanse their souls and forgive their wrong-doings of the past year.

Harry felt this tradition was so much more jolly and all-encompassing than communion, or the lonely Catholic confessional box. He watched Lidia kneel down beside a frail old man and talk animatedly to him. She took his hand in hers and stroked it gently.

Whilst they walked back towards her grandparents’ house, long tables were being set up in the middle of the street in preparation for the feast. The familiar faces of the extended family he had met last night gathered at the table. Two monks from the local temple joined them, resplendent in their saffron robes. Harry looked at the tables of families winding in a long line down the street. It seemed every single resident was present.

He tasted every dish he was offered then, under duress, played football with any number of small children along the street and got drenched by countless further dousings.

When the night drew in, Lidia’s grandfather stood up and made a speech. The atmosphere changed swiftly as the old man spoke and let the tears run freely down his cheeks. Harry looked around at Lidia’s other relatives and saw they too had tears in their eyes. Then one of the monks stood up and chanted in a melodic, high-pitched voice.

The sombre air lasted no longer than fifteen minutes and when the villagers began to drift away to recover from the day’s festivities, Lidia left her place at the table and came over to Harry.

‘Khun
Harry, you are tired now, yes? I walk you home.’

After a round of ‘thank you’s’ and much bowing and pressing of fingers to their noses, Lidia and Harry left the village and began to walk back towards the hut on the beach.

‘Why was your grandfather crying?’ he asked gently.

‘He talked of my father,’ Lidia replied sadly. ‘We were remembering him on this special day and wishing his soul well. The monk said it will be well, for he has learnt the lesson of suffering in this life. When he come back for next life, maybe his lesson will not be so hard. That is what we Buddhists believe.’

‘It must be comforting to believe suffering has a purpose beyond our lives,’ mused Harry. ‘If it’s true, then many of the poor buggers who suffered so badly and died in Changi will be very happy next time around.’

She looked up at him. ‘You believe in your god?’

‘Well, it was never explained to me very well as a child,’ he admitted. ‘It was just something I
did.
Every Sunday at home and every day at school, I went to chapel. I didn’t think beyond the fact it was jolly tedious having to sit still for a long time, sing dull tunes and listen to some old chap boring the pants off me. And all for someone I couldn’t even see, or feel, and seemed to do nothing, but still had to be worshipped.’

‘What is “boring the pants”?’ asked Lidia.

This made Harry smile. ‘An English expression,’ he explained. ‘When I was in Changi, many of the men began to believe in God. Perhaps they had to believe in something. But I …’ Harry shook his head and sighed, ‘I suppose I found it hard to believe that any
good
god could make innocent men suffer the way we did.’

Lidia nodded. ‘I also, when my father die, do not take comfort through belief. I think to myself: perhaps he go to a better place, but what about me? I lose my father before I am ready. But now,’ she added quietly, ‘I accept.’

‘Does your family know your mother is leaving for Japan?’ asked Harry, as they arrived on the beach.

‘No. It is better this way. It would cause too much pain and they have enough. They lose their son. They are from different world, here on Koh Chang. They would not understand.’ Lidia sighed and managed a weak smile. ‘Sometimes, Harry, life seems very hard.’

‘I know,’ he agreed, looking up at the moon, full tonight and shining directly above the sea, giving the ripples a silvery gleam. ‘But I learnt in Changi that when I lose my faith in human nature, I put my faith in nature.’ He indicated the scene in front of him, sweeping his arms wide open. ‘Someone must have made and designed this beauty, in all its extraordinary intricacy.’

‘Then you are Buddhist already. Nature nourish the soul,’ Lidia agreed as they gazed at the moon together.

They walked along the sand, past the empty hut that belonged to Lidia’s aunt and uncle, and arrived outside his. Lidia smiled at him.

‘I hope tonight you will sleep peacefully and well, Harry,’ she said. ‘I see you tomorrow.’

As she turned to walk away from him, he could control himself no longer. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards him.

‘Oh, Lidia, Lidia …’ She did not resist as he took her into his arms, but rested her head on his shoulder whilst he stroked her magnificent hair. ‘My darling, darling Lidia, I have to tell you, because if I don’t, I will burst,’ he laughed, ‘so please forgive me. I think I fell in love with you the moment I saw you at the Oriental, holding a sweeping brush! I love you, Lidia, I love you so very, very much.’ He continued stroking her hair, as the words he had longed to say poured out of him. ‘I don’t know why, or how this has happened, and I know we come from different worlds, but please forgive me, I must tell you, because I feel I am being driven half-mad.’

Lidia stood silently, not moving from his shoulder.

Suddenly the relief of telling her, coupled with her silence – which might indicate non-reciprocation – were too much for him: Harry broke down. He sobbed like a child and his hands dropped away from her.

‘I am sorry, Lidia – I –’

‘Harry, Harry, it is okay … Come.’ She took his hand, led him to the step outside the hut and sat him down on it. She sat slightly behind him, put her arms round his shoulders, rested his head against her chest and stroked his face as he continued to weep.

He cried for his suffering, for the suffering of all those who had died such terrible, pointless deaths. He cried for his mother and Olivia and Wharton Park, and the mess he seemed to have made of his life so far. But mostly, he cried because he had found the most beautiful thing in his life and it could never be his.

‘Harry, Harry,’ Lidia murmured. ‘I am here, I am here. And I …’

She whispered something in Thai. He looked up at her, her face blurred through the tears. ‘I didn’t understand what you said, my darling.’ He wiped his eyes roughly in order to bring her face into focus.

She too had tears in her eyes. She hung her head shyly. ‘I say – I love you, too.’

He looked at her in amazement, eventually managing to whisper, ‘You do?’

Lidia nodded. Then she looked him in the eye and smiled sadly. ‘It is same for me. When I first see you … I –’ she shook her head, frustrated – ‘do not have words to explain.’

‘Oh, my darling, my darling girl,’ Harry choked out as he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her, his passion overwhelming. He had to control himself, not wishing to hurt her delicate lips or squeeze her fragile body too tightly to him. The physical need for her frightened him in its intensity; the hardness in his groin was violent and he knew he must release her before he lost control completely. With all the willpower he possessed, he made his lips leave hers and sat with her, wrapped in his arms, panting with need.

He had little idea of how much time passed, as he managed to calm his body and content himself with the fact that, finally, he was holding Lidia in his arms.

‘Harry, I must go,’ she said eventually.

‘I know.’ He kissed her lips once more, forcing himself to keep in check his need for so much more.

When she stood up, she gazed down at him thoughtfully. ‘I never believe this happen to me.’

‘What?’

‘To fall in love. To get this feeling … here,’ she indicated her heart. ‘My grandmother, she say truly loving another person is to find heaven on earth.’

‘Or hell,’ Harry muttered under his breath as he stood up to take her in his arms one last time. ‘I can hardly bear to let you go.’

She pulled away from him and reached her small hand out to his; he folded it in his own, then kissed the delicate skin of her palm.

‘I come back tomorrow,’ she said, her hands leaving his. ‘Goodnight, Harry.’

‘Goodnight, my love,’ he murmured, as he watched her walk away in the moonlight.

Harry was awake at sunrise, filled with excitement about seeing Lidia. To pass the time until she arrived, he took himself off along the beach for a stroll, and went for a long dip in the calm, turquoise sea. Eventually, when each minute had begun to seem like an hour, Lidia arrived. Her eyes warned him not to take her in his arms – her nieces and nephews were playing on the beach in front of their parents’ hut – so he nodded at her politely.

‘Good morning, Lidia, did you sleep well?’

‘Yes, Harry, I did.’ Her eyes sparkled in delight at the shared games they were playing. ‘I think this morning, maybe you like to see waterfall in mountains in centre of island? It is very beautiful and you can swim in fresh water. Yes?’

‘Yes,’ he agreed immediately. Any chance to be alone with her, he would take willingly.

Lidia put together a basket with water, beer and some fresh fruit from her aunt’s hut, and they set off past the village along a rough, uphill track.

When they were alone, surrounded by jungle, and Lidia was comfortable there could be no prying eyes, she reached up and gave him a delicate kiss on the cheek as a signal. Harry’s arms immediately encircled her as he kissed her.