Forgotten: a truly gripping psychological thriller (22 page)

She looked at Mark expectantly, but he wasn’t taking the bait. Then he gave her a dazzling smile. ‘And you want me to be your champion? You want me to rescue you?’

‘Not quite,’ she said, trying to rein in her irritation at his flippant tone. ‘I’d like you to lend me some money. Enough to stay in a hotel for a couple of weeks. I’m going to ask Ekachai to contact the British Embassy about getting my photo circulated. Hopefully someone will recognise me and bail me out. I don’t know how long it’ll take though.’

Mark reached across the table and covered one of her hands with his own. ‘How much do you think you’ll need?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ she admitted, willing herself not to pull away from the damp warmth of his hand as he closed it more tightly around her own. She didn’t want to alienate him now he’d offered to help, but she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she was in no better position than the women she’d seen in the bar a couple of nights ago. If anything she was worse off because she’d only got one man she could rely on; if Mark wasn’t able to help she could hardly go out and pick up someone else.

‘Whatever you need, it shouldn’t be a problem,’ he said grinning at her. ‘If we say a tenner a night for three weeks and some spending money. I could probably manage about three hundred quid. That should be enough for a while.’

‘Great,’ she said. She had no idea when she would be able to pay him back, but she couldn’t allow herself to think about that, couldn’t think about what it might mean to be in his debt. One step at a time.

Their arrangement seemed to clear the air and lift some of Kai’s gloom. Her thoughts kept straying back to Ellen, but she kept control of her paranoia and concentrated on trying to be a charming companion. The pool was empty now and the still surface had become a mirror reflecting the light and heat of the sun directly into Kai’s face. The bar area was becoming stifling as the afternoon dragged towards evening. There were fewer people milling around: they’d obviously retreated to somewhere cooler.

Mark seemed to sense her restlessness.

‘Do you want to go somewhere else?’ he asked, following her gaze to the empty sun-beds scattered around the pool like flotsam. Kai nodded.

‘Another bar?’

‘I’d rather just walk. I enjoyed the wat the other day. Maybe we could go somewhere like that?’

‘Fine. I’ve got just the place,’ he announced, leaping to his feet and draining his Coke.

***

Away from the hotel terrace the sun felt less fierce as though it had concentrated the best of its energy into one place and everywhere else was being granted a reprieve. The streets were warm but not baking and the traffic was light, adding to the airy feel of the city. Mark led the way out on to a broad avenue flanking a rectangle of evil-looking green water.

‘What’s that?’ Kai asked.

‘Moat.’ Mark explained. ‘It runs right around the inner part of the city. At night it’s lit up and you can’t see how murky it really is. I could throw you in there if you wanted to test your swimming ability.’

‘I don’t think so,’ she laughed and allowed him to lead her down a narrow side street. Mark chose the shadiest side of each street, so they could both walk in the cool shadow of a wall or under an overhang of emerald leaves until they turned a corner into a huge square. Then, suddenly, they were back in the full glare of the sun, made doubly ferocious by the shimmering heat haze from the white paving slabs. Overwhelmed Kai sat on a bench and tried to adjust to the change in temperature. Mark stood in front of her, partly obscuring the sun, allowing her to huddle in his shadow.

He looked down at her. ‘Too much?’

Kai shook her head. ‘Just a shock after the shade. Give me a minute and I’ll be fine. Where are we anyway?’

He sat next to her on the bench, uncomfortably close, forcing her to move away.

‘Sorry,’ he said shifting position. ‘We’re in Wat Chedi Luang. It’s one of the biggest wats in the area.’

‘You mean this square is actually part of a temple?’

‘All of it,’ he swung his arm to demonstrate. ‘That structure in the middle is the important part, the chedi, it’s really old but it’s been partially restored. See the elephants?’

Kai could just make out some deformed chunks of stone that might have been some post-modern interpretation of elephants. ‘Those?’

‘I know. They look more like some sort of alien life form. Round the other side some of them have been reconstructed in concrete. I like these better though.’

As they sat in silence for a while Kai tried to take in more of her surroundings. The open area was buzzing with small groups of people all transfixed by the centre of the temple. It looked like a stone hut towering above the square on a series of raised platforms that narrowed with height. Steps ran up each of the four sides allowing entrance to doors that resembled the mouths of caves. Around the perimeter enterprising locals had set up stalls selling everything from drinks and postcards to small wicker cages containing what looked like tiny birds. Kai watched, intrigued, as a small boy dragged his parents over to the birds and persuaded them to buy one of the cages. She was just about to ask Mark if birds were a popular pet in Thailand when the boy undid the latch on the side of the cage and half a dozen tiny finches flew out. They circled the square once then landed back at the stall where they had been sold. The woman running the stall reached into her pocket and scattered seed for them to peck before catching them, one by one, and placing them in a different cage.

‘What’s that all about?’ She nudged Mark and pointed to the bird lady.

He studied the stall frowning and then smiled.

‘You pay to set the birds free. It’s like an act of compassion and the Buddha smiles on you for being kind to small creatures.’

‘But she just caught them again.’

‘Ah,’ Mark laughed. ‘They’re well trained. They get fed, have a little fly around every hour or so and everybody’s happy. The woman gets paid, the birds have a taste of freedom and the punter gets his blessing. The perfect arrangement.’

Kai shook her head. ‘But the birds still end up in the cage.’

Mark just shrugged then sighed and shook his head. ‘Look at that!’

‘What?’ she asked, squinting in the direction he was pointing.

‘Those women over there. They make me sick. They come to Thailand and think everywhere’s a bloody beach. No respect for anything.’

Kai could just make out two young women giggling together as a third ushered them into a pose in front of one of the elephants. They were all tanned and wearing shorts and vests, obviously keen to show off their newly browned skin.

‘Are photographs not allowed?’ she asked, puzzled.

Mark shook his head. ‘It’s not that, it’s the way they’re dressed. They have no respect for the religion. They’re supposed to cover their shoulders and legs when they go into a temple. Just because they’re outside it doesn’t make the place less holy or the rules less strict.’

‘You really love this stuff, don’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘People come here and complain about all the hassle they get. They’d not stick out as much if they’d show a little respect. They can’t expect the Thai people to have any regard for tourists if they dress like that. Maybe I should say something.’

He made a move to get up but Kai put a gently restraining hand on his shoulder.

‘Please don’t. I can’t cope with a scene. Let’s leave them to it.’ She stood up, wanting to be somewhere else, despite the heat and her fatigue. She was feeling the results of two early beers, not a pleasant buzz but a woolly feeling in her mind and on her tongue.

As they crossed the square she felt strangely conspicuous as though some unseen sniper had her in his sights and was only waiting for an unobstructed shot. The paranoia gave her an unexpected chill and she was surprised to feel goose bumps prickling her arms and neck. Depression dragged her back to the details of Ellen’s death, hit by a speeding car and left to bleed in some filthy gutter. No matter how the rational part of her mind screamed
accident
, the insidious whisper of fear wouldn’t let her be.

She thought about the journal and the paranoid conviction that she was being followed, about the past that she was running from. Suddenly she longed for the security of her room in the hospital, for the familiar. Outside was too big and too dangerous. She wanted to curl up with her journal and hide from the present, from the unexpected.

‘Hey,’ she said squinting up at Mark. ‘I think I’ve had enough for today. Can we get back to the hospital please?’

‘Tired?’ he asked, concern showing in the lines on his face.

‘Shattered,’ she lied, unable to explain her true feelings.

‘How about coming back to the hotel? You could have a lie down in my room, it’s cool and quiet and it’s not the hospital.’

Kai’s unease intensified, this didn’t feel right. She’d asked Mark to take her back and suddenly he was trying to get her alone in his room.

‘Just take me back to the hospital,’ she snapped.

He raised his hands, palms outwards in defence.

‘Hey, I’m sorry. You told me earlier that you needed to get out of the hospital; now you want to go back there. I’m only trying to help. The hotel’s nearer that’s all and I thought you might appreciate a change of scenery. No problem, the hospital it is.’

He marched off across the square forcing Kai to trot to keep up with him. She gave up as soon as they reached the moat from where she was confident that she could find her own way back and squatted on the grass contemplating the murky water. She remembered her flicker of memory in Ellen’s office, light through trees dancing off water. This water seemed to absorb the light, trapping it beneath a dull, flat surface that looked like a tear in the universe.

She sensed rather than heard Mark come up behind her.

‘You okay?’ he asked but it sounded mechanical, like a question that was expected of him. She thought he didn’t really want an answer so she simply shrugged and continued to study the water.

‘I’m sorry if I got a bit ratty back there. I’m hot and tired and when I think I’m trying to help you just seem to throw it back in my face. I know you’re struggling with your friend’s death on top of everything else, I should be more sensitive.’

She turned to look up at him but he was a silhouette, flat black, as though a man-shaped hole had been cut out of the washed-out blue of the sky. She couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t tell if he was sincere, couldn’t allow herself to trust him.

‘I’m fine,’ she said standing up unsteadily. ‘I’m sorry I snapped like that. I do it all the time, it’s like an automatic response. I really would like to get back to the hospital because I feel safe there and I’m really freaked out about Ellen’s accident. I appreciate your offer of a rest in your room but I know I wouldn’t be able to settle and that’s nothing to do with you, it’s just the idea of being in a strange place, shut in. I think coming out here was probably a bit much, but what I said earlier still stands. I would like to leave the hospital and, if you’re not too pissed off with me, I would like to borrow some money.’

‘No problem,’ he said and this time she could see the kindness in his eyes – or was it pity?

They walked back to the hospital in silence.

I knew that Phet would come in useful. Her connections, people she knows, doors she can open for me. It cost me though. Christ, she drives a hard bargain! I could have probably beaten her down but it was too risky, better to give her what she wanted – I can always get a refund later, when I’ve got her on her own.

It had all been so easy – so straightforward. I’d waited outside the hospital the previous day, watching, assessing. The shrink had left at exactly 6.30, perfect, just gloomy enough for me not to be seen. I’d followed as she left the hospital and headed for the centre of town. As soon as she got to the moat I gave up, I’d seen enough.

The car was a battered Japanese model, completely anonymous. Something that your eyes would slide off in a second. Phet had chosen perfectly. I’d arranged to meet her in a café, well away from my hotel and somewhere that I wouldn’t be recognised. Phet, as instructed, parked the rusty old heap in a side street about ten minutes’ walk away from the café. Somewhere quiet where it wouldn’t stand out too much and where I could easily pick it up. I knew she was suspicious but it was none of her business and she knows better than to ask questions, I taught her that lesson pretty soundly.

After that it was easy. I was thankful that the Thais drive on the proper side of the road so at least I hadn’t needed a practise run. All I’d done was walk my getaway route to make sure that there weren’t any one-way streets or unexpected obstacles. It was a beautiful plan, so simple but potentially so effective.

I pulled the car up on the same road as the hospital entrance and waited. Nobody paid me any attention as I sat pretending to read a Thai newspaper, just low enough in my seat to be inconspicuous but not huddled down far enough to look like I was trying to hide. And there she was, the shrink, just at dusk, a bit earlier than the previous day. I drove slowly, waiting until she slowed to cross the busier road that runs around the centre of town and then I hit her. She stepped out, judging me to be going slowly enough to leave her plenty of time to get to the other side, which, of course, I was – until she stepped out. The feeling when I floored the accelerator was incredible. The surge of power, not from the car but from my body. Jesus, it had been better than an orgasm, newer, different. Phet really got the benefit of that in my hotel room later.

The noise was pretty bad though. The scream and the sickening thud as I sent her flying into the dead air above the tarmac. I hit a cat once driving home from the pub down a country lane. I felt sick as my car had bumped over the body, jolting me into momentary sobriety. This had been the opposite – after the initial shock I felt drunk with power. I wanted to get outside my body and stand at the side of the road to see how it had looked. Had the thrill shown on my face? Could the straggling group of pedestrians see my strength, my control?