Thai Girl (13 page)

As they ate in the midday heat, the conversation was low key. Maca talked of moving on to Koh Chang, the big island to the east, Chuck about setting up websites. Trying hard not to brood about Emma, Ben was thinking how easy it is to make close friends with other
farang
but how difficult it is to get to know the Thais. He put this to Maca and Chuck.

‘It's so frustrating. I'm interested in Thailand and what makes people tick, but we don't really talk to them. We order food and beers, complain when things go wrong, and they're nice and friendly. But it doesn't go any deeper.'

‘I'm with you on that,' said Maca. ‘They're warm on the outside but also very private. Language can be a big problem too … so few of them speak much English.'

‘I've learned almost nothing about their lives,' said Ben. ‘I did a course on Third World Development for my geography degree and I thought being here would teach me something, but it just doesn't seem to happen.'

‘It's a very different culture, difficult to penetrate … maybe that's what makes it so interesting.'

‘My first real contact was with the masseur I met yesterday,' said Ben. ‘She's really nice … very open about herself and she's not had an easy life.'

‘Is that the pretty one?' said Chuck.

‘Hands off mate,' said Ben, more forcefully than he intended.

‘But Ben, you've got to watch'em,' said Maca. ‘They're smooth talkers and they'll give you a sob story about sickness and death, moneylenders moving in and that sort of stuff. But then they'll ask you for money to save the family from ruin, so you end up wondering how much of it to believe.'

‘Her story's a sad one but I don't think she's softening me up for money. She seems honest enough, working hard to make ends meet.'

‘Of course the sob stories are usually true.'

‘Yes, it's a tough place,' said Ben.

Having eaten, Chuck and Maca went off to their hut, and Ben, not wanting to face an empty room, found a deckchair on the beach. He sat and read a novel about Thailand, ‘The Beach' by Alex Garland, hoping to learn something about the country from it. But it told him nothing.

Unable to concentrate, the hot afternoon dragged by, giving him too much time to be miserable. He kept glancing up, distracted by every fruit-seller and
farang
who went by on the sand. When he saw a familiar figure coming along the beach carrying her plastic box, his heart beat faster, a blend of pleasure and confusion. She was much smaller than he remembered but just as pretty, and he had not forgotten the smile.

‘Sawasdee ka,
' she said.

‘Sawasdee krap,
' he replied, collecting himself.

‘You want massage?' Without waiting for an answer, she chose a different place in the shade at the top of the beach next to the gnarled trunk of a fallen tree, spread out the sheet on the sand and weighted the corners just as she had done the day before, chatting easily to him.

‘What you do today? Where you go? Where your girlfriend?'

This time he was able to look at her more freely as he relaxed with her. She was neatly dressed in close-fitting blue cotton trousers and a long-sleeved tie-die shirt and wore a baseball cap with a curved peak, making her look younger than her twenty four years. Her face was strong-boned and perfectly oval, framed by her long, glossy hair, which was held back from her forehead with a headband to allow her to work. He liked her button nose, the strong white teeth and her golden skin which was clear and unmarked. But most of all he liked her smiling eyes which were large and round but still very Asian.

‘My girlfriend's gone to Bangkok. I don't think she'll be back here, but we'll keep in touch by email,' he said as he lay down on his front.

‘She not like Koh Samet?'

‘Not much. Not that keen on Thailand.'

‘Mai pen rai.
Never mind.'

‘Well I'm not going to be lonely am I.'

‘Up to you,' she said enigmatically.

‘It's great meeting you,' said Ben, ‘but I don't even know your name yet.'

‘Called Fon,' she said.

‘Fon? What does that mean?'

‘Rain,' she said simply.

‘Rainstorms … rainfall? That's cool … and I'm Ben.'

‘Hi Ben. You welcome Koh Samet.'

As Fon dug her knuckles into the soles of his feet, Ben wanted to go on asking her about her hard life. Without eye contact it was difficult, but he was determined to try.

‘Fon, you were telling me all about yourself yesterday. It seems awful a child having to leave home to work in Bangkok.'

‘No problem. Many people leave Mama Papa to find work. My village very poor … and now I like it here.'

Ben pressed his point.

‘But your family was split up … and you were sent away when you were so young.'

‘Yes, I cry, cry, cry,' she said with a laugh.

‘You left home at fourteen to earn almost nothing?'

‘Yes, but I was given food so Mama not have to feed me.'

‘And what were the people like you worked for? Were they kind to you?'

‘Kind to me? Only small girl … sleep in kitchen, work every day.'

‘What do you mean? No days off?'

‘No days off. Once a year have holiday at
songkhran,
Happy New Year Thailand. Take bus night time to Buriram, very far. Get there early morning, stay Mama one day, sleep, then get bus back to Bangkok.'

‘Only once a year! A kid aged fourteen … and no days off.'

‘Work seven days a week.'

‘For four hundred baht?'

‘Four hundred baht.'

Ben was moved to silence. For the injustice done to this girl, the theft of her childhood, he felt a welling up of compassion. Though he knew it was ridiculous, he wanted somehow to make it up to her, to compensate her for what she had been deprived of.

‘But Fon, you don't seem bitter … you smile all the time.'

‘Yes, I look happy, but I cry inside. Family not together and Papa die.' Ben saw his chance to ask the big question.

‘So tell me, how did your father die?'

‘Papa die on the road,' she said.

‘You mean an accident? A crash?'

‘He strong man, very handsome. Crossing road to farm … big car come too fast.' She paused for a moment. ‘But I have his photo … I never forget. I take it out and talk to him and he take care me when things are bad. I love my Papa.'

‘Fon, it's so sad,' said Ben, lying face down, eye to eye with Mickey Mouse on the blue cotton sheet. ‘How did you all cope?'

‘When Papa die, Mama have babies already. She very busy, have no time for me. I carry water, feed pigs, take care little sisters. Too hard being the oldest, but it make me strong.'

‘How many sisters?'

‘Three sisters but one die already. Have one brother.'

‘They're at home in Buriram?'

‘No, all working. Young sister Jinda's here … she work resort, cooking.'

Then it was turnover time when Ben could lie on his back and gaze at Fon as she massaged his hands and arms.

‘So childhood in the North East must be hard,' he said.

‘Everywhere life hard. We live, we grow old and die. Live a good life, maybe not suffer so much next time. Long life, short life, no problem.'

‘Yes, but Fon, life's for living. You only live once.'

‘You think so?' she said with a surprised look, before brightening a little. ‘Fon nearly die when small baby … dirty little girl, black face, wet nose.' She wiped her sleeve across her nose and shrieked with laughter. ‘Get sick, very hot … Mama no have money for medicine, think I die. Then soldier Cambodia come.'

‘Who?'

‘Cambodia not far … can hear guns every night, pow pow, pow. Khmer Rouge fighting, maybe come inside Thailand, steal everything, kill us all. But this soldier like my Mama too much, give me shot every day.' She indicated her bum with a wiggle of the hips and giggled. ‘So Fon get better, not die.' Her face lit up again and she burst into laughter, irrepressible mirth salvaged from near tragedy.

Ben was again moved by a sense of empathy for this modest life, for someone who had survived a tough childhood with grace and dignity and had made so much from her poor beginnings. He reflected on his own privilege, his secure family background, cushioned by so many material advantages. And as Fon manipulated his calf muscles, chatting happily to him, he could not keep his eyes off her.

‘So I not dead, I massage good … meet many people like you,' she said cheerfully. ‘And I have Joy to look after.'

‘Who?'

‘Joy. You not see her? Little girl, Joy, who live with me.'

‘But whose child is Joy? Why's she with you?'

‘My sister have baby called Joy … sister die already, so Joy stay with Mama. But when Mama get sick, I go Buriram, bring Joy back here with me. Sister Jinda take care daytime while I massage.'

‘Okay, got it! So you and Jinda look after Joy, your niece, as she's an orphan.'

‘Yes, I'm the oldest, have money, so look after Joy. She's four and love me too much. I fight for her so she not suffer like me.'

Ben wondered what the future held for the child.

‘And what does your boyfriend think of all this, you bringing up your sister's child?'

Fon hesitated before answering.

‘What him think? She my problem, my family.'

‘But you may have your own children one day.'

‘Yes, I dream. Many girls want rich man but Fon not want. Want good man … to be together with family,' she said, wrapping her arms round herself in symbolic embrace. ‘Rich man him butterfly.'

‘Butterfly?'

‘Yes, butterfly … have too many ladies.'

‘Right! So rich men are all butterflies?'

‘All men butterfly … unless too old!' She shrieked with laughter. ‘And young men dangerous!'

‘No, we're not!' said Ben.

‘Yes, even my Papa. I love my Papa, but he have ladies too. When he die, they bring children, ask for money. So I have brother, sister in Buriram, and I don't know who they are.' She looked solemn.

‘But your brother and your other sister? You're in touch with them?'

‘They both stay Bangkok. Sister only nineteen, work hotel cleaner, Sukhumvit. Brother, I worry he no have work … maybe get trouble
yaa bah,
trouble with drugs.' She mimed sticking a needle into her arm and grimaced.

‘You don't know where he is then?'

‘No, Bangkok somewhere. Mama not know.'

‘And you feel responsible for all of them?'

‘Papa dead, Mama sick litty bit. I'm the oldest, so have to take care.'

Ben wanted to ask her about the sister who had died, leaving Joy an orphan. What did she die of? Who was the father and did he contribute to the child's upkeep? But it seemed too intrusive to ask.

At that moment they were joined by another young masseuse who came and sat on the sheet beside them. She chatted briefly to Fon in Thai and the two of them broke into smiles, glancing across at Ben.

‘Are you two talking about me?' he asked.

‘Telling Gaeo you my new boyfriend, and she say very handsome.' Fon burst into peals of laughter. ‘Gaeo my friend, number one, hundred percent. We massage together two years … always
sanuk,
always funny.' Ben learned that Gaeo was a mother of three small children who were at home with their grandparents in the North East. A few years older than Fon, she looked tired but she had gentle eyes and Ben took to her immediately.

Then Fon sat him up, did the final stretching and twisting and the massage was over.

‘Okay, Ben, fin-ish. Today many people … tired already. Now find Joy, cook rice.'

‘Well, my hour was great, Fon … the massage too,' said Ben.

‘Tomorrow massage?'

‘I never say no.'

‘What time tomorrow?'

‘Start nine o'clock, then all day long …'

‘Okay, up to you!
Sawasdee ka Khun
Ben.'

And with that the two masseuses picked up their plastic boxes and walked off along the beach.

Relaxing in the bar that evening, Ben broke the news to Clarissa that Emma had gone back to Bangkok to give herself some time and space.

‘It came as a total shock,' he said mournfully. ‘We looked forward to this trip for ages and now we get here and she pushes off.'

‘Life's little ironies,' said Clarissa. ‘It's like karaoke. In the bath you're Pavarotti, but you've forgotten the words … then, when you've got them on the karaoke screen, you can't remember the flipping tune.'

Clarissa was curious to hear more about Emma but Ben was reluctant; he was much keener to talk about Fon. He told her the story of Fon's childhood, how he admired her struggle to survive, and how good it was to meet a Thai who was willing to open up to a stranger. And he had to admit how taken with her he was.