Forgotten: a truly gripping psychological thriller (27 page)

I spent the rest of today at the hotel so there’s not much to report. I’ve had a swim, after waiting for most of the men to leave the poolside, and I’ve done quite a lot of reading. I managed to find a really cheap internet place so I’ve e-mailed Penny details of my route and my plans. At least this way, if anything happens, Penny can raise the alarm. She’s expecting to hear from me by the end of December. I thought I’d better allow some time for falling in love with the villages and not wanting to come back to this shit hole. It feels a bit ‘anal’ to be telling Penny exactly where I’m going, but I’ve never done anything like this before and I’ll feel safer if someone at home has a good idea of where I am and where I’m going.

Time to find some food. I think I’ll be a bit more adventurous tonight and try something more exotic than chicken and chips.

December 3rd – Mae Hong Son

God, I’m knackered! The four-hour journey took virtually all day and it was practically dark when I got here last night. We set off on time from Chiang Mai and the first two hours of the journey were uneventful. The bus was almost full of tourists – I think I counted six local people who looked a bit fed up about having their luggage space taken over by thirty huge rucksacks. I managed to squeeze mine into the seat with me. It was squashed against my knees but at least it wasn’t causing problems for anyone else. Most of the other bags ended up in the aisles and in a cavernous, dirty space underneath the floor of the bus.

The scenery became increasingly interesting as we got further out from the city and headed into the mountains. It’s very different from the mountainous regions of China and Vietnam as there’s little to see except forest. All the hills are covered in trees and the roads snake along through tunnels of light cut into the greenery. After an hour we began some serious climbing round a series of hairpin bends, which the driver seemed to enjoy taking at speed. He’d crawl for a few yards then floor the accelerator at the last minute and swing wide round the bend. I watched the little boy next to me turn green each time and knew it wouldn’t be long before we were revisited by the crisps his mother had been forcing down him since we left the bus station. At least he pointed his head away from me when he did eventually throw up. I was so glad that I hadn’t stowed my bag in the aisle.

Our first major stop was a small town called Pai. It seems to be a big backpacker place as all the signs were in English and they all seemed to be advertising cookery courses and cheap accommodation. It looked like a nice spot to spend a few days though. I might give it a closer look on the way back. Most of the foreign tourists got out at Pai and the remaining passengers spread out along the bus. The driver and his mate got out and tinkered for half an hour and then we were on our way again
…
for about three miles. Just after a particularly vomit-inducing bend we hit a hill and… nothing. The engine roared, the driver swore but the bus started to roll back down. This manoeuvre was repeated three times and then we were all asked to get out.

There was enough shade to get comfortable at the side of the road so I settled down for a while. There were only about ten of us at this point, two other westerners and what appeared to be an extended Thai family. The Thais obviously had a better idea about bus maintenance than the tourists as they soon flagged down a passing pick-up truck and piled in. I smiled ruefully at the two Brits sitting opposite me, but they just looked away, embarrassed at my attempt to establish a bond. We sat in silence for about twenty minutes until the bus roared into life and disappeared round the next bend with our bags still on board.

I leapt to my feet but the other two simply shrugged. I half expected one of them to say, ‘Hey, it happens all the time. Chill out,’ or other words of hippy wisdom but they simply sat.

Eventually, the driver returned on foot and gestured to the road. After a few tries we gathered from his sign language that there was another bus due and we were to get on it. I tried to ask about the bags but he simply pointed up the hill. The next bus did arrive as predicted – after we’d been waiting for an hour and a half! Fortunately, after a couple of minutes, it stopped next to our old bus which was parked in a cutting at the top of the hill. We jumped off to grab our luggage and the new bus got us to Mae Hong Son without breaking down.

I’m now sitting on my own veranda listening to the cicadas and watching the moths battering the pale bulb above my table. I managed to get pizza in town and I found a shop selling real European wine so I’m indulging in a glass before bed. There doesn’t seem to be much to do in Mae Hong Son but I’ve only got one day here so I’m sure I can keep myself occupied.

December 4th – Mae Hong Son

I was right, there isn’t much to do in Mae Hong Son. I had breakfast quite late as I managed to finish the bottle of wine that I bought yesterday and slept really well, then I wandered into town to see the sights. There aren’t any! I spent most of the day sitting in cafés drinking cold drinks.

The highlight of the day was a twilight climb up the hill which overlooks the town. I had to wait until quite late in the day as it’s been incredibly hot today and the humidity makes doing anything at all very uncomfortable – at least some of the cafés have air-con. The walk to the top of the hill was really quiet. I think I only saw two people all the way up, which didn’t prepare me for the crowds at the top. The wat up there seems to be some sort of tourist attraction. I couldn’t quite work out what was going on, but it was like a small market built around the temple. Most people seemed to be buying miniature hot air balloons – paper bags with small candles underneath – the sky was full of them, all rising at different speeds and growing brighter as the sky darkened.

I managed to find a quiet spot behind a minor wat. The view was stunning – layer upon layer of forested hills stretching across into Burma with the sun setting behind the furthest mountains. It really looks like the whole area is totally uninhabited. All my doubts about the next few days have disappeared. It was so peaceful sitting on top of the hill that I want to find more places like that. I really want to get off the beaten track and do some serious exploring away from the supercilious looks of other more experienced travellers. I
want
to be out of touch with the rest of the world.

I’ve checked the route again – it’s marked on a road map of the area so it should be easy to find. I spotted the bus stop yesterday so I know where to get off. All I have to do now is pack my rucksack and get some sleep. God knows when I’ll sleep in a proper bed with sheets again.

XV

Despite the early hour, the bus station was the most crowded place Kai had encountered since she’d left the hospital and she didn’t feel fully prepared for the hordes of people swarming around the kiosks. Their tuk-tuk driver had taken them as close to the waiting area as possible – following Mark’s instructions carefully in the hope of a big tip – and Mark had left her on a hard, plastic seat while he’d gone to buy the tickets. The row of fixed chairs was full to overflowing and Kai tried not to respond to the jostling from the child sitting next to her, precariously balanced on his mother’s lap. Instead she studied her surroundings, trying to take in details. She knew she’d been here before: something should be familiar.

On Mark’s suggestion she’d brought her journal – he thought it might help to read about the journey as they were on the road. Kai was doubtful, but it might be an interesting exercise to try to remember where the bus broke down or to see if Pai rang any bells with her. Sitting in the bus station she began to understand why she hadn’t liked this town the last time she’d been here. The waiting hall seemed permeated with a chill despite the heat of the day and she had an urge to wrap her shirt more tightly around her. The concrete pillars were grimy with the dirt of travellers, the darker stains lurking around head height as though people had leaned there, in despair, for hours. To add to the dungeon-like feel of the place someone from the department of transport had thoughtfully posted graphic photographs of accident scenes as a reminder that the roads were dangerous places for the unwary. The blood and broken bodies was no encouragement to travel and Kai felt herself losing confidence.

She craned her head, trying to spot Mark through the throng of bodies, but he’d disappeared. Kai tightened her grip on the bamboo walking pole that Mark had presented her with so proudly when they’d met in the hotel foyer earlier that morning. She felt much stronger than she had a few days ago, but she was still worried about doing some serious walking and the pole would be a useful aid if she grew tired. At that moment she had an urge to use it to poke the filthy child next to her as he’d become even more agitated and delivered a hefty kick to her leg. His mother smiled at her in apology but the brat still wriggled and squawked, forcing Kai to shift position again, if only to avoid the snail trail of snot that was going to transfer itself to her sleeve at any moment.

Just as she thought she would have to leave her seat, Mark appeared through the throng, towering above the Thai crowds like Gulliver among the Lilliputians. Despite her reservations about this trip Kai smiled, glad to see that he was waving the tickets and looking relieved.

‘You took your time,’ she complained. ‘I nearly had to murder a small child and it would have been your fault.’

‘Sorry,’ Mark said. ‘I had to go to a kiosk round the back, near the stand for our bus. We’ve got ten minutes before it leaves. Do you want to buy some more water or anything?’

Kai shook her head and hefted her shoulder bag in her hand. ‘I’ve got enough in here to rescue a small third world country from drought. I do need to use the toilet though.’

Mark grimaced and pointed to the sign. ‘It’ll cost you and I’m not sure it will be worth the money.’

‘I’ll risk it,’ Kai decided, shouldering her pack. She left her walking stick with Mark and headed for the surly looking woman guarding the entrance to the toilets.

‘Three baht,’ she announced as Kai approached.

Kai handed over the coins and plunged down the stairs waiting for the smell to hit her. To her surprise the place was quite clean and smelt of bleach. She quickly used the toilet and washed her hands in the trickle of cold water from a leaky tap and, as she checked her reflection in the grainy mirror, she caught sight of the row of doors over her shoulder. A blonde woman pushed open one open and locked it behind her. The snap of the catch suddenly blurred the scene in the mirror as though another view had been superimposed over the real one. This one was of the same toilet cubicles but slightly skewed. Kai closed her eyes trying to shake the vision, but it seemed to stand out bright against the inside of her eyelids and it was accompanied by the sound of frantic chatter in Thai and running water. Another memory. Kai had used these toilets before and her subconscious was reminding her. She opened her eyes and smiled at her reflection, pleased that it was still happening, that she was still getting snatches and glimpses of memory, tantalising, frustrating but, ultimately, very reassuring.

‘Okay?’ Mark asked when she returned to the waiting hall.

‘Fine,’ she shrugged. ‘Not at all smelly.’

‘Good. Ready for the bus? It should be here by now.’

Kai nodded and took her stick from Mark before following his lead through the crowd.

The bus wasn’t as busy as the one Kai had described in her journal. Mark allowed her the window seat in the hope that she would see something familiar – he squeezed in next to her, his long legs sticking out into the aisle causing problems for people heading to the rear seats. He tried to force his legs into the gap between their seat and the one in front but the fittings on the bus had not been designed for someone over six feet in height and it was hopeless. Kai was entertained by his apologetic shrugs and smiles every time someone struggled to get past him.

‘Maybe we should have found seats further back,’ she suggested.

‘Too late now. Anyway, there won’t be any more room back there. This bus was obviously built for midgets,’ Mark grumbled.

Kai turned to the window as the bus jolted out on to the streets of Chiang Mai, hoping for the strange overlapping effect that had startled her in the toilet, but all she saw were the hot, busy, dusty roads. Perhaps the problem was the city. It could have been anywhere; it was just another crowded place, noisy with traffic and heavy with exhaust fumes. The only familiar thing Kai saw was the hospital, glaringly white in the early morning sunshine and she felt an unexpected tug of nostalgia, despite the fact that she’d been there the day before for one of her regular visits to Ekachai. It seemed like her amnesia had made her unreasonably attached to anything she could remember, however unpleasant or uncomfortable. The hospital made her think of Ellen, of her optimism and kindness. She turned to the opposite window in a desperate attempt to focus on the trip rather than her sorrow.

An hour later they’d left Chiang Mai behind and the road started to climb through mountains thickly covered in forest. The morning mist still lingered in the valleys giving the landscape a prehistoric feel, which was heightened by the circling birds of prey lazily riding the currents of warmer air.

‘God, it’s beautiful out here,’ she murmured.

Mark nodded, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as though he were driving rather than being driven. Kai was puzzled by his frown of concentration.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

‘Mmmn?’

‘I said, are you okay? You look like you’d rather be driving.’

Mark shook his head. ‘I would. I hate being driven anywhere, especially on roads like this. I can’t help it, I just don’t like not being in control.
I
t makes me nervous.’

‘Well, look at it this way: this guy’s probably driven this road hundreds of times. I’m sure on this particular route, he’s a better driver than you are.’

‘I suppose so,’ Mark shrugged, but still kept his eyes fixed on the view through the windscreen. Kai left him to his mistrust and went back to her own view.