Thai Girl (18 page)

Jinda then took a skimpy little tank top with a Union Jack design from the rail of clothes, hid behind a crate to try it on and quickly emerged to shrieks and cat-calls.

‘You look like bar lady, Jinda,' squealed Fon. ‘Give it to me … I want to be bar lady too.' The sisters went behind the crate together before Fon reappeared in the Union Jack top looking a million dollars as she played the fashion model pounding the catwalk. With an insolent pout and hand on hip she sailed down the seedy inside of the shop, leaving Ben utterly transfixed by the swing of her body and the exaggerated wiggle of blue denim. Flashing him a grin, she disappeared behind the crate. When the laughter had died down, she popped her head out again to see his reaction.

‘I your England flag, Ben. I wave for you.'

‘Fon, you look amazing … but then you always do.'

It struck Ben that this was the first time Fon had behaved provocatively in front of him; the sparks flying between the two of them must have been obvious to the others. Perhaps she was no longer the defender of Thai female modesty now she was not in public on the beach, or was it, he dared hope, because she was growing to like him.

When she had changed back into her tee shirt, they all wandered out onto the jetty. Instead of going straight to the ferry which was soon due to leave, she stopped and chatted casually with some women at one of the kiosks. Ben had no idea what was going on and was bothered about missing the boat. Fon tried to explain.

‘Go speedboat … better more and not expensive,' she said. As she talked, Ben began to grasp that a speedboat from one of the beach resorts was running back to Ao Sapporot and could take them as passengers.

They all walked slowly along the jetty, climbed aboard the speedboat which was lying alongside and sat down amidst vegetables and beer bottles. The long-haired boat-boy in baggy shorts and singlet started up the forty horse outboard and soon they were out beyond the breakwater, bumping and thumping over the waves. Ben stood up in the slipstream and howled with joy while Fon crouched uncomfortably in the bottom of the boat, holding a supermarket catalogue over her face to keep off the sun.

In no time at all they were back at Ao Sapporot, wallowing through the surf and splashing onto the beach. It was early afternoon and Fon would now have to get back to work for the rest of the day. She quickly answered Ben's silent enquiry.

‘Have plenty food, cook tonight. You come eat?'

‘You bet,' he said.

‘Okay, see you here, seven o'clock. Maybe we go disco later.' She took Joy by the hand and with the bags of food in the other, sailed off up the beach. Ben watched her go. He could now enjoy a pleasant afternoon looking forward to an evening together with good eating and perhaps even a disco. The vibes were now very positive indeed.

14

Time slipped easily by for the rest of the day as Ben swam and lazed on the beach. He could relax because that evening he would be with Fon and because he knew exactly where she now was. As he swam he could see her at work with Gaeo over by the rocks, and later when she walked along the beach looking for customers, his eyes followed her every move. He could not help watching her and he could not concentrate on anything else. Once she disappeared from view but her plastic box with her massage kit was still sitting under the trees so she would not be very far away.

He now had time to think about his growing obsession; why had he fallen so totally for Fon? There was of course the powerful appeal of the exotic. Fon was every man's Asian dream, and though he had seen many gorgeous girls in Bangkok, her charm and personality were no less than dazzling. But the strangest feeling was his sympathy and admiration for her; he was moved by the sad story of her childhood and he greatly respected her solitary struggle to provide for her Mama and Joy. These were all reasons for his fixation, though by now it had gone beyond the rational. He realised he was besotted.

It worried him that there were still many things about her that were puzzling. Though there seemed to be a growing chemistry between them, he could not really be sure what if anything she felt for him. She was always flirtatious with her customers and could turn on the charm at will, so perhaps he was just another dupe for her to play games with. Her claims to modesty also seemed at odds with her recent provocative behaviour. He was confused by her insistence on propriety and reputation while at the same time being an outrageous tease and an accomplished mistress of innuendo. Then there was the shadowy boyfriend she had mentioned a couple of times and her reluctance to talk about the death of her sister, the mother of Joy. It was all made more difficult because he could not read the signals in so different a culture.

Now sitting alone waiting for the evening, he found himself talking freely with her, practising the verbal foreplay of seduction which streamed through his head in a pleasurable glow. He could say to her whatever he liked and he daydreamed erotic dreams. More than once, a little carried away, he was embarrassed by a stirring in the swimming trunk department that kept him briefly confined to his deckchair.

Ben's afternoon went slowly by in a heated reverie. Come dusk and mosquito time, he went to his hut and showered. He arrived early at the meeting place, the fallen tree at the top of the beach and sat and waited. Then he saw a small female figure coming towards him. The light was behind her and he thought he recognised the distinctive gait.

‘Hi, Fon,' he called, running towards her. He wanted to hold her and kiss her but suddenly he realised it was not Fon but her sister. Jinda laughed out loud, guessing his mistake. He followed her into the trees until they reached a group of workers' huts where he saw Fon, dressed as she had been all day, in the middle of cooking.

Beside the huts was an open-air kitchen, a simple wooden structure with a corrugated roof, gas cylinders, plastic basins for washing dishes, and pots and pans strewn around in disorder. Under the trees were a couple of rusty tin tables with plastic tops and some chairs. Fon was holding a pan over a gas ring and stirring hard.

‘Hi, Ben … cooking for you,' she called to him. ‘Very hot and too many red ants.' She bent down and brushed them off her ankle. ‘You hungry?'

‘You bet,' said Ben. ‘So is this where you live?' he asked her.

‘No, this house Gaeo,' she said, pointing with her wooden spatula. ‘Her husband away, so we cook here.'

At that moment Joy came shooting out of Gaeo's hut, saw Ben and with a shriek hurled herself at him, shouting his name. He caught her and lifted her into the air, twirling her round until he was dizzy.

‘Food ready now,' said Fon. ‘Pork ribs, fish,
tom yam
and sticky rice.'

‘No
som tam?'
asked Ben.

‘No
som tam,'
said Fon. ‘But sticky rice always have.'

The plates of food were put on the tables and Fon, Jinda, Joy, Gaeo and Ben sat down on the tin chairs, the feet sinking into the sandy soil. Ben felt honoured. He guessed this had all been done for his benefit, that it was not usual for Fon to entertain a
farang
and that it could only be done with other friends around.

‘Food good?' asked Fon.

‘Yes, the best … the best ever,' said Ben with conviction, good because it had been done specially for him and by Fon.

They ate hungrily from the wobbly tables and soon the dishes were all empty. There was no standing on ceremony and they immediately started clearing up.

‘Ben, you go Gaeo's room, take Joy,' said Fon.

Gaeo showed Ben into her hut where he was left with Joy, sitting on a double mattress on the floor and flicking through a magazine for Thai TV. In the room was a television, a fridge, the mattress, a mosquito net and clean clothes hung up behind a curtain.

Joy was wriggling around, wanting to play with Ben. Frustrated that she could not make him understand, she switched on the television and trawled through the channels with the remote control. Then Fon's head came round the door.

‘You okay, Ben? Me and Jinda go shower,' she said, before disappearing again.

Ben was a little surprised when a few minutes later, she and Jinda came back after showering, wrapped only in towels. Defying the towel to fall off, Fon then threw her arms above her head and pirouetted around twice on tiptoes.

‘Fon sexy? You like?' she sang out with a laugh. Ben liked very much and said so. At that moment Gaeo came back into the hut and, with much merriment, they began to go through the clothes stored behind the curtain.

‘Jinda have clean clothes but I not have, so borrow from Gaeo,' Fon explained.

There was little choice, most of it working clothes, and Fon ended up with a clean tee shirt and a pair of shapeless brown shorts to wear.

‘We put on shirt now,' she said to Ben, ‘so you watch TV … not look.' Still only in her towel she came up to where Ben was sitting on the mattress, knelt down behind him, wrapped her arms round him and clasped her hands over his eyes. ‘You eyes closed, okay!'

It was very tactile, her body pressed hard against his back, the first contact between them that was not professional massage.

‘What if I look?' he demanded, stirred if not shaken.

‘I kill you,' she said.

With Joy dancing around in front of the television and Ben's eyes glued uncomprehendingly to a Thai soap opera, Jinda and Fon noisily got dressed.

‘Ben, you can look now,' said Fon as Jinda shrieked in protest, zipping up her jeans just in time.

‘You look great, Fon,' said Ben, ‘in whatever you wear.'

‘Sweet mouth… men always the same!' Fon did another little dance, this time with Joy, the two of them falling about the place like puppies.

With Ben sitting on the mattress in front of the television, Jinda and Fon chatted with Gaeo in Thai. Gaeo produced a bag of cosmetics which they sorted through, while Fon picked up a mirror and gazed lovingly into it. In fits of giggles, Fon and Jinda started to put on make-up, concentrating hard; a little eye-liner, some talcum, an eyebrow pencil, but no lipstick. Fon caught sight of Ben looking at her in the mirror and smiled.

‘What's the war paint for?' he asked.

‘What you say?'

‘The make-up. Where are you going?'

‘Dancing,' she said breezily. Ben felt a surge of anxiety.

‘Where?'

‘Diamond Bar. Maybe go Meridian later.'

He was none the wiser, nor did he care so long as he could go dancing too. With the make-up ritual over, he now realised the sisters were about to make a move.

‘Who's going dancing?' he asked.

‘Me and Jinda,' said Fon. ‘Gaeo cannot … married woman, wait husband. Joy sleep here with Gaeo.'

‘But what about me? Am I coming?' he asked, on tenterhooks.

‘No.
Farang
men not dance with us … only ladies. You want to go?'

‘Course I want to. More than anything.'

‘Okay then, we take you … this time.'

Grasping her glossy black hair in both hands, she twisted it tightly into a rope and coiled it at the back of her head, securing it through with a pin. Now for the first time Ben saw her with her hair up in formal Asian style, displaying the elegance of her neck, her finely-sculpted head and profile. Her simple act of sinuously throwing her arms back and arranging her hair, he found distinctly erotic. It was made sweeter when he noticed that the pin she had pushed through it was an ordinary blue biro. So little adornment achieved such effect on this lovely girl.

When at last she was ready, Fon slipped into some green plastic flip flops, swept out of the room and headed off towards the beach in the darkness with Jinda and Ben following close behind. Reaching the path along the shore she stopped, told Ben to wait and disappeared with Jinda into the darkness under the trees. Ben was now getting used to this sort of thing, so he stood and waited for them. After about ten minutes they came back with another girl of about the same age.

‘This Goong,' said Fon.
‘Goong
means shrimp … she big so they call her Shrimp!'

‘Hi, Goong.
Sawasdee krap,
' said Ben, careful not to shake hands. Thais do not shake hands Maca had told him.

‘Goong come from our place, Isaan. We not know her before but now she friend Jinda. She massage here six months,' said Fon.

Goong had an open and fresh innocence about her. Her nicest feature was her smile which went from ear to ear, her eyes crinkling up and almost disappearing from view.

The four of them got under way again and soon reached the last night spot at the end of the beach. The Diamond Bar consisted of a wooden building thatched with palm fronds on a terrace among the rocks. It was stylishly done in the manner of a South Sea island beach hut and was decorated with fish nets, dried puffer fish and other trappings. Even the coloured lights hanging in the trees added to the atmosphere and did not look too tacky. The bar itself was well-stocked with bottles, a fridge, sound system and all the modern amenities. Somewhere a generator was beating steadily for their sole benefit. A sign boldly declared, “Kitchen open 10.00am to 11.00pm”, though the place seemed totally dead; there was nobody about.

Fon directed everyone to a table and called loudly in Thai. A bleary youth emerged from behind the bar where he had been asleep in a hammock and brought them drinks. Beer in hand, Ben then looked around him and took stock. It was hard to believe he was sitting under the stars at the end of a tropical beach of white sand, looking at the brightly coloured lights of the bars and restaurants around the bay. Only months after getting his Geography degree, here he was on Koh Samet enjoying a whole new world of experience, out for an evening's dancing with three Thai girls, all of them accepting him warmly into their inner circle and one of them perhaps the most bewitching woman in the world. Though he was still sober, he could not quite believe that this was not just some fevered fantasy. Feeling well-pleased with himself, he began to wonder what was going to happen next. Where was the disco and the dancing?