Meeting Mr Write: Mr Write Trilogy Book One (3 page)

Three

Rosie

“I can’t believe you’re going to Thailand sis!” Rafe sips at his coffee and pouts like a child that’s had his toys taken away. “I’m proud of you for just, going for it babe. You’ve not been yourself for so long, and you really need it, but fuck me, I’m jealous!”

I love my brother Rafe, next to Pippa he is absolutely my best friend. When I was about thirteen, I was absolutely convinced that Rafe was going to marry Pippa, and she’d be my sister for real. Little did I know that instead of chasing each other, they’d be competing for the same men!

Rafe came out when he was seventeen. He said he felt safe doing it knowing that we can do no wrong in our parents’ eyes. They were just pleased to finally understand why their handsome, funny and kind son had never brought a girlfriend home.

The first couple of years were hard for Rafe. We lived in a village and it wasn’t exactly a buzzing metropolis, so meeting people and having experiences that allowed him to explore his sexuality wasn’t easy, and he made mistakes because of that.

Rafe was twenty when I went to university and he convinced our parents that they should help us two to find a place together. They did, and it was the best thing that ever happened to either of us.  Rafe got a job managing the student union bar and started to get the ideas for what is now ‘Rafael’s’, and I got to have my brother close by. When Pippa came to live with us shortly after we moved in, they soon developed their own little game of ‘
choose a guy and get him into bed
,’ whether he was gay or straight was irrelevant, to either of them.

I have a lot of gay friends. Any university course with the word creative in the title is bound to have its fair share of flamboyant characters, and they pretty much all fit the stereotypes, but Rafe has never been outwardly identifiable as gay, people often don’t believe that he is.
 He and Matthew are just your typical blokes. They love sport, and beer, and going out with the lads, just like most guys…they just dress and smell better.

“I wish you could come too Rafe, I’m a bit scared. Just fear of the unknown I guess.” I shrug my shoulders uncomfortably.

“Nah, don’t be daft, you’ll be fine. You know I’d be there if I could Ro. I just can’t shut this place down for three weeks.” Rafe looks around the café as he speaks, “You’ve got Pip Squeak though, she’ll look after you!” He chuckles into his coffee.

Rafael’s is Rafe’s cafe. H
e bought it with money left to him by our grandmother. We never met her for one reason or another, but she still included us in her will. Rafael’s is a really cool coffee shop that attracts so many interesting characters. It wouldn’t be out of place in New York or San Francisco, full of artists and dancers, writers and musicians. It’s one of those cafes with comfy leather sofas and bean bags. There are books on every table and an acoustic guitarist is almost a permanent fixture in the corner. Rafael’s is one of my favourite places to write…and the lemon drizzle cake is to die for.

“Are you staying over tonight then?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Since Michael and I split up, whenever Matthew is away with work, Rafe stays over with me for DVD and wine night.

“Of course I am beaut! I’ll bring the wine, you get the chocolate and I’ll be over once I’ve closed up.”

At about six thirty there’s a knock at my door, I open to a smiling Rafe holding up two bottles of ‘Cab Sav’ and ‘The Beach’ on DVD.

“To prepare you for your big adventure, we have the lovely Leo DiCaprio. Do not follow in his footsteps though baby sis, as his Thailand experience is kind of messed up!”

We get comfy, order a pizza and get ready to watch the film when Rafe’s phone rings. I see that it’s Matthew and pick it up.

“Hey Matty! Brother/sister time here, piss off!” I laugh down the phone,

“Hey Ginge. Sorry, I just need a quick word. Is he there?” I pass the phone to Rafe, whose face lights up at the sound of Matthew’s voice.

“Hi,” he smiles down the phone and I can see that my big brother couldn’t be any happier. “Really? Oh baby, that’s fantastic!”

I try to mime to Rafe to get him tell me what he’s talking about, but he just shoos me away.

“You really are the best you know, thank you…Ok, I love you. Night.”

He hangs up the phone, smiles and resumes the optimal film watching position.

“What was that all about?” I question excitedly, “It sounded good.” I almost sing the last word.

“Nothing sister! Press play.” Rafe stares blankly ahead as he always does when he’s trying to hide something from me.

“Rafael Patrick Alvez…Spill!” I kneel directly in front of him so that he can’t avoid my questioning,

“Rosie, it’s nothing…Just a dirty weekend away with the man of my dreams. Do you want details?” He pushes me back onto my side of the bed.

“Erm no you’re ok!”
I pull a face as if to say ‘keep it to yourself Alvez.’ “Although I’m a little jealous, I’d kill for a dirty three minutes, let alone a weekend!”

I’m deadly serious. It’s been ten months since I’ve been anywhere near a man that isn’t related in some way, and before that, sex with Michael wasn’t exactly earth shattering.

“Well baby sis, you have three weeks in paradise to get as dirty as you want. Just play safe! Now will you press bloody play?”

I don’t know whether the film made me excited for the holiday or filled me with dread, but either way I went to sleep thinking of white sand beaches and sunshine, and maybe a dirty three minutes here or there.

***

“FINAL CALL FOR FLIGHT T G NINE ONE ONE, THAI AIRWAYS FLIGHT TO BANGKOK”

“Shit Ro, hurry! Damn the duty free!”

“Pippa, when have you ever been on time for anything?” I call back as we run for our boarding gate.

“Sawasdee Ka, Welcome.”

The stunning Thai stewardess smiles, without a hint of frustration at our lateness, as we step on board.  Her hands are held together in front of her like she is praying. Mr James kindly informed me in his book that this is called a ‘Wai,’ and I return the gesture out of respect.

The stewardess shows us to our seats in Royal Silk Class, all thanks to my last novel ‘Bridge over Troubled Water,’ a bestseller...eighteen bloody months ago. We take our seats, stow everything away and buckle up for taxiing.

“Rosetta Penelope Alvez, I have never been so glad to be your friend!” Pippa sounds blissful as she stretches her legs to explore the extra leg room and I laugh. I’d be lost without this girl!

Once the seat belt lights are off, Pippa wastes no time calling for in-flight service,

“Hi, could we have four vodkas with orange juice please, we’re celebrating!”

“Celebrating what?” I question, as the attentive steward goes to fetch our drinks.

“You, finally removing that stick from up your arse!”

The resulting fit of giggles indicates that our holiday has begun.

Pippa is bored of the in-flight movie within about twenty minutes, the girl is unbelievably impatient. She grabs my travel guide and decides it’s time to do some research.

“So, Mr James…What do you have to say about Krabi then?” She begins to read aloud from the book in her best ‘Lloyd Grossman’ voice. “Krabi is a fantastic place, and just as the billboard outside the airport says, lively town…lovely people!” The impression soon fades and Pippa is back. “Be sure to visit Tiger Cave Temple, wear sensible shoes and cover up, it is a place of worship after all.  Climb at five am for an amazing sunrise at the top!”

She stops and leans her head back, snoring dramatically.

“Oh Jackson James, you disappoint…What I want to know, is where to get trashed and meet the man of my dreams!”  Nobody finds Pippa as funny as she does herself and she laughs to out loud.

“Good Morning Ladies!”

Without so much as a hello, a man stands over us and interjects on our conversation. Wow! He is Drop…Dead…Gorgeous! I blush.

Oh crap! He’s the bulldozer from Gold Square!

“If it’s a good time you’re after, here’s my card. I’ll be in Krabi in a few days, give me a call and I’ll show you around.”

“Jackson James, Travel Writer Extraordinaire!” Pippa Laughs, “You seriously had that printed on your cards?” She never did have much of an internal filter.

He smiles at me and Pippa appears oblivious to the fact that it’s his book she’s been reading from. Does he recognise me? He really is delicious. He has an absolutely hypnotic smile and his dark brown hair is styled perfectly into a sort of organised mess, but he is way too arrogant for my liking. ‘Travel Writer Extraordinaire’…Who does that?

“I’ve seen you before haven’t I? At Gold Square?”

He talks to me as he rests his arm casually on the seat in front. The sight of his toned bicep causes my cheeks to flush slightly,

“Yes, I believe that it was you that almost flattened me Mr James. You really should watch where you’re going.”

“Again, I apologise. What were you doing at my publisher’s office anyway? Are you an assistant there or something?”

“I doubt the assistants travel in business class Jackson,” Pippa snorts as she catches up, “This is Rosie Alvez…Romance Novelist Extraordinaire!” She winks and I flush red.

“Ah, romance…I guess that means you know a thing or two about what women want? Perhaps you can enlighten me sometime Miss Alvez?”

He tilts his head and I notice the sarcastic smile he’s giving me. He obviously knows that I haven’t written anything in forever! I smile, pull my sleep mask over my eyes and lean back, shutting him out.

“Well then…Miss Alvez, Miss…”

“Carvalho, Philippa…But you can call me Pippa.”

“Pippa, it’s been a pleasure…maybe see you on the other side.”

I presume he’s gone back to his seat, as the next thing I know I’m being slapped on the arm by my best friend.

“ROSIE!” She pulls off my mask “That was really fucking rude!”

“What? He was a sleaze Pip, and an arrogant one at that! I mean who just strolls up and starts talking to people on a plane? And what’s with all the ‘extraordinaire’ bollocks?”

“Rosie, they’re not all the same you know. He heard us reading from his book and thought he’d say hey. Besides, he was hot!” She looks at me and I know she’s right, it was rude. “In a way though, I’m glad you scared him off, because it was a pleasure to watch him walk away.” She grins mischievously turning his business card in her hands.

“Carvalho, get some sleep…and behave!”

“LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, WE ARE BEGINNING OUR DESCENT INTO BANGKOK SUVARNABHUMI AIRPORT. LOCAL TIME IS SIX EIGHTEEN AM. WE HOPE YOU HAVE ENJOYED YOUR FLIGHT AND HOPE TO SEE YOU AGAIN SOON. THANK YOU FOR FLYING THAI AIRWAYS, KHOP KHUN KRAP”

The seatbelt lights are on and I feel a pang of anxiety, but it doesn’t last long. Pippa grabs my hand and gives me her excited grin, mouthing “OH MY GOD!” as we touch down, with a hell of a bump, onto Thai soil.

Four

Jackson

Ahh, Bangkok…I love this city.

It’s all go, all the time, but there are places where you can find moments of absolute serenity. I’m only here for a couple of days and then I’m heading south to Krabi. I want to chill out down there for a bit before the real work starts. While I’m in Bangkok I’ve decided to stay in a hostel. Hotels are great but hostels are such a buzz, you get to meet and interact with so many interesting people. You exchange great information and stories; it’s a writer’s dream.

I can’t help but wonder where Miss Alvez is seeking her inspiration, a five star hotel I imagine.

I love to people watch; it gives you the chance to really soak up the atmosphere and the culture of a place. It’s my first night in Bangkok and I’m sitting alone at an outdoor table of a restaurant, watching the world go by.  I’m surrounded by the noise and smells of the city. Street food carts, market traders, girls trying to coax people into bars, nervous tourists trying to take it all in and the older western men with young Thai girls (or ladyboys) on their arms. I am used to that sight now, but I won’t lie, it was a shock when I first visited Thailand.

Some of the women that you see here are mind meltingly stunning. You can’t always tell if they are actually women, but they’re nice to look at regardless. I like to look, but I don’t touch. The sex trade in Thailand is not really something that I wholly approve of. It’s each to their own, but I think this amazing place has so much more to offer than girly bars and ladyboy shows.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve had my fair share of fun in Thailand, but usually with backpackers or ex pats. There have been a few Thai girls but no money exchanged hands, I can assure you of that.

For right now though, I’m happy to sit and watch the world go by, taking it all in. I have a nice cold Singha beer, some barbecued chicken and a papaya salad, spicy, the best way to eat it! I can’t help but wonder how many people have read my book and ordered the same. Miss Alvez I wonder? Nah, it’ll be a club sandwich and fries, I’m certain of that. She’s hot as hell, but she’s got a stick up her arse that needs removing, and I’m pretty sure I’m the man for the job!

I’ve got a long day of exploring ahead of me tomorrow, so it’s time to get some sleep. I head back to the hostel and up to my room, taking the lone American blonde from the lobby with me…I love Thailand.

I’m going to spend today immersing myself in the tourist traps of Bangkok. I know that I said this book would be ‘
off the beaten track,
’ but you’ve got to tell people about the popular favourites as well.

I am heading to The Grand Palace this afternoon, but first, it’s an early start soaking up the atmosphere of the floating markets. It’s such a buzz, there are all sorts of smells and sounds here, igniting the senses…fuel from boats, food cooking, all sorts of seafood and people calling out trying to sell their wares.
To watch is invigorating, it’s almost as exciting as actually being a part of it all. There are boats and people everywhere, food and merchandise all over the place. Some westerners may find this place intimidating, but I feel strangely calm here amongst the craziness. I feel completely welcome and safe in the company of the wonderful Thai people going about their daily business.

As the day rolls on, I head back to the hostel for a shower and change of clothes. Lucia, an Italian girl that I met this morning, has invited me to join her on a dinner sunset cruise on the Chao Phraya River, and let’s face it, what kind of a man would I be to let a beautiful woman travel alone?

***

Rosie

“Wow! Ro, this is AWESOME!”

Pippa is easily pleased. We booked to stay in a three star hotel in Ao Nang, I read in the book that three stars in Thailand is like five star back home, and so far, I have to agree. This is beautiful.

“Right then bestie, come on!
Bikini on, Kindle in hand…It’s pool time!” Pip turns to look at me and frowns, placing her hands on her hips dramatically, “Rosie, it’s the first day! Put the laptop down. You need to relax!”

As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right, I do. Since Michael left, I have been so tense. I put too much pressure on myself to try and be perfect, and it just causes me to constantly fuck up. How can I possibly meet my own unrealistic expectations of myself?

“I know, I know. You’re right. I do need food though Pip, and a cocktail...stat!”

“Pool bar Rosie…Pool bar!” There’s that grin again.

Hmm, I could get used to this. I’ve never felt heat like it.

It’s warming me right through to my bones. For a redhead, I have unusually olive skin. Thank god my Irish mother married a Spaniard...I couldn’t bear to be one of those gingers that burns after five seconds, I love the sun too much!

Pippa is already quite dark skinned, and she goes an amazing colour in a frankly unacceptable amount of time. Her mother is Indian and her Dad is Portuguese. At school we bonded over our mixed up heritage and grew up proud to be different.

“Pippa for crying out loud, you only have to look at the sun and you’re tanned!” I exasperate while I apply more oil,

She pokes her tongue between her teeth “I know…Ha!”

After a few hours lazing in the sun and dipping in and out of the pool to cool off, the long day of travelling and hot sun catches up with me. I need some sleep. Pippa is more than happy to continue cooking, so I go back to the room for a nap.
 Despite the tiredness, I can’t seem to get to sleep so I reach for the guide book and turn to the pages for Ao Nang.

There are lots of pictures of beautiful scenery, beaches and people, and various tit bits of information about where to stay, eat, drink etc. Hmm where to eat? I glance through the restaurants and Mr James’s words jump off the page to me.

“To experience the fantastic flavours of Thai food, steer clear of the sparkly restaurants and head for the plastic tables and chairs outside, or go to one of the street carts. Try the papaya salad, be adventurous and ask for it spicy, it’s amazing! If you’re unsure though, Thai people will always help you to find something that you will like.”

Annoyingly, he seems to know his stuff. Maybe for the first night though, western food would be best.

I wake to the god awful sound of Pippa singing in the shower, it’s comforting to know that there’s at least one thing that she wasn’t blessed with. I reach for my phone to check the time, its six thirty pm and I am famished. I feel much better after some sleep and decide it’s time to let my hair down and start to experience Thailand.

We decide to eat in a restaurant called Blue Mango. It’s a short walk from the hotel and has a good mix of Thai, English and Scandinavian food. Actually there seems to be a huge Scandinavian influence in Ao Nang. Pippa has a cheeseburger
and fries and I go for a club sandwich…Wow Alvez, you’re really letting your hair down now!  

After dinner, Pippa is ready to party. She asks the waitress where to go and we are pointed in the direction of the livelier bars. This is an eye opener.

Ao Nang seems to be a fairly quiet town generally. It’s mostly just tourists walking along the seafront, taking in the shops and restaurants, but behind the main strip is where Ao Nang lets loose. It’s littered with bars, there’s a McDonalds and what seems like hundreds of backpacker hostels. Pippa’s eyes light up at the sight of Thai girls in sexy sailor uniforms dancing on tables, and without a say in the matter, I’m pulled inside.

“What should we drink?” She asks the girl behind the bar, not me.

“You want to party?” The bar girl questions in response,

“YEAH!!” Pippa calls out, and without another word, a large bucket of Sang Som, a really strong Thai rum, and Coke is placed on the bar with two straws.

As Pippa’s eyes widen gleefully at the sight, we sip. I wince slightly at the strength but sip again…I may not be able to focus particularly well, but I see where this night is heading.

***

Rosie

“Ahhhh...I think I’m dead!”

“You’re so dramatic Philippa!” I groan and then laugh, then groan again. We had a great night last night, I think…but the morning after the night before is not so great. “Come on, there’s nothing that a day on the sand won’t fix.”

Pippa dons her deep purple halter neck bikini and looks fantastic. I opt for a red and white polka dot one, and sunglasses are an absolute must this morning. Maxi dresses and flip flops are on and we’re ready to hit the beach.

Ao Nang beach is just a short walk from the hotel and we stroll, ice cold Fanta in hand, past the long tail boats to a quieter end of the beach. There are massage places lined up behind the trees and in front of us, there’s nothing but calm sea, with the odd rock jutting out, as though it has been freshly painted onto the horizon.

It’s hot, unbelievably so, and I love it, but I can’t just sit baking with a hangover.

“Pip I’m going for a walk, do you want anything?” I ask as I stand and pull on my dress,

“No honey, thanks, stay safe.” Pip is quite content to veg in the sun all day.

I decide to walk along the beach with the waves lapping gently over my feet. Even the sea is warm, this place is fantastic.  I’m surprised as I walk, at the variety of people that I see. I expected, ignorantly I guess, that Thailand would just be full of backpackers with dreadlocks and tattoos, but I was so wrong. There are elderly couples relaxing on the sand, giving Pip a run for her money in the tanning department!

There are a lot of families with children, playing and eating, and then there are the definite honeymooners dotted in between, clearly identifiable by their public displays of affection, and the fact that they seem oblivious to anyone else being there.
 

They are why I write romance. For people like that, the romantics who get completely lost in the arms of their significant others, and those who continue to hope that there is one special person out there for them. In this moment, I feel like I’m letting them down.

The thought brings me back to earth with a bump.

I’ve been walking, lost in my own thoughts for almost an hour. I decide to sit for a while, so I walk away from the shoreline and sit down on the stone steps at the top of the beach. As I look out ahead across the calm sea, with the heat haze blurring my view, thoughts of Michael creep into my mind. I haven’t heard anything from him since the day before our wedding. There’s been no explanation or apology, just dead air.

We had booked a honeymoon to the Maldives, Pip wanted me to go anyway and just escape for a bit after the wedding, but I couldn’t bear to go alone. After much persuasion on my part and a couple of name changes, Rafe and Matthew went instead.

When I arrived at the hotel on New Year’s Eve, ready to become Mrs Rosetta English, I knew that something was wrong. Pippa was sitting on a bench with my Mam, and Rafe was on the phone in the corner of the lobby.

“What is it?” I asked Pippa, but I didn’t need her to answer. “Daddy, he’s not coming!”

I immediately turned and walked back towards the exit. I was calm but embarrassed, didn’t want any of our guests to see me like this, jilted.

“Rosie, wait!” Pippa chased me, while my Mam caught my Dad up on the situation, “He’s a prick Rosie, I’m so sorry.” She hugged me so hard, as though she thought I’d collapse without her arms for support.

“Did he call anyone? Or has he just not bothered coming?”

Pippa rolls her eyes and I know she wants to murder Michael for this, “No, he sent Matthew.”

“Ginge, I’m so sorry!” From nowhere, Matthew pulled me out of my daze, throwing his arms around me and kissing me on the top of my head. Matthew is Michael’s brother but is the complete anti-Michael. He is kind and thoughtful, and at the time of my non-wedding, he had been dating Rafe for almost a year. A fact that made him feel even worse about the situation. Matthew and Michael haven’t been what you would call, close, for a really long time. In fact they don’t even particularly like each other, but Michael made Matthew his best man due to the fact that he is distinctly short on friends.

“He’s such a dick, I’m so sorry. You look so beautiful Rosie.”

“Where is he?” I asked, unsure whether I actually wanted the answer. My voice was completely monotonous and I couldn’t bear to make eye contact with anyone.

“I don’t know Ginge. He text me to say he that wasn’t coming and now his phone is switched off. Rafe and I have been trying to call him for an hour.
 Look, I haven’t told anyone inside yet, but, I guess they need to know. Maybe you should get out of here before I go in?”

“Yeah I’m going right now. Matthew, this isn’t your fault,” I could see the shame in his eyes. “Like you said, he’s a dick. Tell everyone to go and enjoy the reception, it is New Year’s Eve after all.”

I headed out of the lobby and climbed back into the VW camper van that I had arrived in only ten minutes earlier.

“Mam, Dad, I’m going home. Are you coming?”

My parents and Pippa climbed into the van with me, and after saying goodbye to Matthew, Rafe joined us. Without needing to be told, the driver set off, and took us home.