Platform (31 page)

'It's amazing: a bit kitsch, but very lavish. There are fountains, tropical plants, waterfalls; they've even put up statues of Greek goddesses.'

We settled ourselves on a deep sofa upholstered with gold thread before choosing two girls. The massage was very pleasant, the hot water and the liquid soap dissolved all traces of suntan oil from our skin, The girls moved gracefully: to soap us they used their breasts, their buttocks, their inner thighs: straight away Valerie started to moan. Once again I marvelled at the richness of a woman's erogenous zones.

After drying ourselves we lay down on a large, circular bed, two thirds of its circumference encircled by mirrors.

One of the girls licked Valerie, easily bringing her to orgasm. I knelt over her face; the other girl caressed my balls, jerking me off in her mouth. At the point when she felt I was about to come, Valerie motioned to the girls to come closer: while the first girl licked my balls, the other kissed Valerie on the mouth; I ejaculated over their half-joined lips.

The guests for the New Year's Eve party were mostly Thais connected in one way or another with the tourist industry. None of the directors of Aurore had come; the head of TUI had also been unable to get away, but he had sent a subordinate who clearly had no power whatever but seemed thrilled at the opportunity. The buffet was exquisite, a mixture of Thai and Chinese cuisine. The were crispy little nems with basil and lemongrass, deep-fried parcels of water spinach, prawn curry with coconut milk, fried rice with cashew nuts and almonds, an unbelievably delicious Peking duck which melted in the mouth. French wines had been imported for the occasion. I chatted for a while with Lionel, who seemed to be basking in contentment. He was accompanied by a ravishing girl from Chiang Mai whose name was Kim. He had met her in a topless bar on the first night and they had been together ever since. I could easily see what this big, slightly clumsy boy saw in the fragile creature, so delicate she seemed almost unreal; I couldn't see how he could ever have found such a girl in his own country. They were a godsend, these little Thai whores, I thought; a gift from heaven, nothing less. Kim spoke a little French. She had been to France once, Lionel marvelled; her sister had married a Frenchman.

'Really?' I enquired 'What does he do for a living?'

'He's a doctor,' his face clouded a little. 'Obviously, with me it wouldn't be the same kind of life.'

'You've got job security . . .' I said optimistically. 'Everyone in Thailand dreams of being a civil servant.'

He looked at me, a little doubtful. It was true, though, the public sector fascinated the Thais. It's true that in Thailand civil servants are corrupt; not only do they have job security, they're rich too. You can have everything you want. 'Well, I hope you have a nice evening . . .' I said, making my way towards the bar. 'Thank you . . .' he said, blushing, I don't know what possessed me to play the man of the world at that moment; decidedly, I was getting old. I did have some doubts about the girl: Thai girls from the north are usually very beautiful, but sometimes they're a bit too conscious of the fact. They spend their time staring at themselves in the mirror, keenly aware that their beauty alone constitutes a crucial economic advantage; and as a result they become useless, capricious creatures. On the other hand, unlike some cool western chick, Kim was not in a position to realise that Lionel himself was a bore. The principal criteria for physical beauty are youth, absence of handicap and a general conformity to the norms of the species; they are quite clearly universal. The ancillary criteria — vaguer and more relative — were more difficult to appreciate for a young girl from a different culture. For Lionel, the exotic was a wise choice, possibly even the only choice. Anyway, I thought, I've done my best to help him.

A glass of Saint-Estephe in hand, I sat on a bench to look at the stars. The year 2002 would mark France's entry into the single currency - amongst other things: there would also be the World Cup, the presidential elections, various high-profile media events. The rocky crags of the bay were lit up by the moon; I knew there would be a firework display at midnight. A few minutes later, Valerie came and sat beside me. I took her in my arms, put my head on her shoulder; I could barely make out the features of her face, but I recognised the scent, the texture of her skin. At the moment when the first rocket exploded, I noticed that her green, almost transparent dress was the same one she had worn a year before at the New Year's Party on Ko Phi Phi; when she pressed her lips against mine, I felt something strange, as though the very order of things had been upturned. Strangely, and without in the least deserving it, I had been given a second chance. It is very rare, in life, to have a second chance; it goes against all the rules. I hugged her fiercely to me, overwhelmed by a sudden desire to weep.

Chapter 15

If love, then, cannot triumph, how can the spirit reign? All practical supremacy belongs to action.

Auguste Comte

The boat skimmed over the immensity of turquoise, and I didn't have to worry about what I was doing. We had left early in the direction of Ko Maya, sailing past the outcrops of coral and the immense chalk crags. Some of them had eroded to form circular islets whose central lagoons could be reached via narrow channels carved into the rock. Inside these islets the water was still, emerald green. The pilot cut the engine. Valerie looked at me, we remained silent, unmoving; moments passed in utter silence.

The pilot dropped us on the island of Ko Maya, in a bay protected by high rocky walls. The beach stretched out at the foot of the cliffs, it was about a hundred metres long, narrow and curved. The sun was high in the sky. It was already eleven o'clock. The pilot started up the engine and headed back in the direction of Krabi; he was to come back and pick us up in the late afternoon. As soon as he rounded the entrance to the bay, the roar died away.

With the exception of the sexual act, there are few moments in life in which the body exults in the simple pleasure of being alive, fills with joy at the simple fact of its presence in the world; January 1st was, for me, completely filled with such moments. I have no memory of anything other than that bliss. We probably swam, we must have warmed ourselves in the sun and made love. I don't think we spoke, or explored the island. I remember Valerie's scent, the taste of salt drying on her pubis; I remember falling asleep inside her and being woken by her contractions.

The boat came back to collect us at five o'clock. On the terrace of the hotel overlooking the bay, I had a Campari and Valerie a Mai Tai. The chalk crags were almost black in the orange light. The last of the bathers were returning, towels in hand. A few metres from the shore, entwined in the warm water, a couple were making love. The rays of the setting sun struck the gilded roof of a pagoda halfway up. In the peaceful air, a bell tolled several times. It's a Buddhist custom, when one has accomplished a good deed or a meritorious action, to commemorate the act by ringing a temple bell; how joyful is a religion which causes the air to resound with human testimony to good deeds.

'Michel . . .' said Valerie after a long silence, looking straight into my eyes. 'I want to stay.' 'What do you mean?'

'To stay here permanently. I was thinking about it as we were coming back this afternoon: it's possible. All I need is to be appointed resort manager. I've got the qualifications for it, and the necessary skills.'

I looked at her, saying nothing; she put her hand on mine.

'Only, you'd have to agree to give up your work. Would you?'

'Yes.' I must have taken less than a second to answer, without a hint of hesitation; never have I been faced with a decision that was so easy to make.

We spotted Jean-Yves coming out of the massage parlour. Valerie waved to him; he came and sat at our table: she explained her plan.

'Well . . .'he said hesitantly, 'I suppose we could manage it. Obviously Aurore are going to be a bit surprised, because what you're asking for is a demotion. Your salary will be cut in half at least; there's no other way of doing it given the other employees.'

'I know,' she said; 'I don't give a damn.'

He looked at her again, shaking his head in surprise. 'It's your choice ... If that's what you want. . . After all,' he said, as if he were only just realising it, 'I'm the one who runs the Eldorador resorts; I've got the right to appoint whoever I like as resort manager.'

'So, you'd agree to it?'

'Yes . . . yes, I can't stop you.'

It's a curious sensation, feeling your life teetering on the brink of a radical change; all you have to do is stay there, do nothing, to feel the sensation. Throughout the meal I remained silent, pensive, so much so that eventually Valerie became worried.

'Are you sure this is what you want?' she asked. 'Are you sure you won't miss France?'

'No, I won't miss anything.'

'There's nothing to do here, there's no cultural life.'

I was already aware of this; inasmuch as I'd had occasion to give the matter any thought, culture seemed to me to be a necessary compensation for the misery of our fives. It was possible to imagine a different sort of culture, one bound up with celebration and lyricism, something which sprang from a state of happiness; I was doubtful - it appeared to me to be a highly theoretical proposition, and one which could no longer have any real significance in my life.

'There's TV5 . . .' I said indifferently. She smiled; it was well known that TV5 was in fact one of the worst television channels in the world. 'Are you sure you won't get bored?' she insisted.

In my life, I had known suffering, oppression, anxiety; I had never known boredom. I could see no objection to the endless, imbecile repetition of sameness. Of course, I harboured no illusions about being capable of getting to that point: I knew that misery is robust, it is resourceful

and tenacious; but it was not a prospect that caused me the least concern. As a child, I could spend hours counting sprigs of clover in a meadow: in all the years of searching I had never found a four-leafed clover; I never felt any disappointment or any bitterness; to tell the truth, I could just as well have been counting blades of grass - all of those sprigs of clover, with their three leaves, seemed endlessly identical, endlessly splendid to me. One day, when I was twelve, I had climbed to the top of an electricity pylon high in the mountains. As I was going up, I didn't once look down at my feet. When I reached the platform at the top, the descent seemed complicated and dangerous. The mountain ranges stretched as far as the eye could see, crowned with eternal snows. It would have been much simpler to stay there, or to jump. I was stopped, in extremis, by the thought of being crushed; but otherwise, I think I could have rejoiced endlessly in my flight.

The following day I met Andreas, a German who had been living in the area for ten years. He was a translator, he explained, which made it possible for him to work alone; he went back to Germany once a year for the Frankfurt Book Fair; if he had queries, he made them via the internet. He'd had the opportunity to translate a number of American bestsellers - among them The Firm — which in themselves guaranteed him a healthy income; the cost of living here was low. Until now, there had been almost no tourism. He found it surprising to see so many compatriots descending on the place; he greeted the news unenthusiastically, but with no real displeasure either. His ties with Germany had in fact become very tenuous, despite the fact that his work obliged him to use the language constantly. He had married a Thai girl whom he'd met in a massage parlour, and they now had two children.

'Is it easy, here, to have . . . um . . . children?' I asked. I felt as though I was asking something incongruous, as if I'd asked whether it was difficult to acquire a dog. To be honest, I had always felt a certain repugnance for young children; as far as I was concerned they were ugly little monsters who shat uncontrollably and screamed insufferably. But I was aware that it was something most couples do; I did not know whether it made them happy, at any rate they didn't dare complain about it. 'Actually,' I said glancing around the resort, 'with as much space as this, it might be feasible: they could wander between the chalets, they could play with bits of wood or whatever.'

According to Andreas, yes, it was particularly easy to have children here; there was a school in Krabi, it was even within walking distance. And Thai children were very different from European children, a lot less quick-tempered and less prone to tantrums. For their parents, they felt a respect bordering on veneration, it came to them quite naturally, it was part of their culture. Whenever he visited Diisseldorf, he was quite literally frightened by the behaviour of his nephews.

To tell the truth, I was only half convinced by this idea of cultural immersion. For reassurance I reminded myself that Valerie was only twenty-eight; in general, women don't get broody until about thirty-five. But, in the end, yes, if necessary, I would have her child; I knew the idea would come to her, it was unavoidable. After all, a child is like a little animal, admittedly with certain malicious tendencies; let's say, a bit like a small monkey. It might even have its advantages, I thought; eventually I would be able to teach it to play Mille Bornes. I nurtured a genuine passion for the game of Mille Bornes, a passion which remained, in general, unsatisfied; who could I invite to play with me? Certainly not my work colleagues; nor the artists who came to show me their portfolios. Andreas, maybe? I gauged him quickly: no, he didn't look the type. That said, he seemed serious, intelligent; it was a friendship worth cultivating. 'Are you thinking of moving here . . . permanently?'

'Yes, permanently.'

'It's better to look at it like that,' he said, nodding his head. 'It's very difficult to leave Thailand; I know that if I had to do it now, it's something I'd find very hard to deal with.'

Chapter 16

The days passed with terrifying speed; we were supposed to go back on January 5. The night before, we met up with Jean-Yves in the main restaurant. Lionel had declined the invitation; he was going to watch Kim dance. 'I really like watching her dance almost naked in front of men . . .' he told us, 'knowing that later on, I'll be the one to have her.’ Jean-Yves looked at him as he walked away. 'He's making progress, the gas man . . .'he noted, sarcastically. 'He's discovering perversion.'