Thai Girl (44 page)

‘Yes, my dream too. But anything's possible if you want it enough.'

‘You mean life can give you what you want?' she asked doubtfully.

‘Yes, but it doesn't just happen on its own. You've got to go for it.'

‘Maybe, Ben … maybe it can for
farang.'

Sitting in the moonlight leaning forward and staring intently into the darkness, they briefly came together. Ben held Fon for a moment until she stood up and said she must go home and get some sleep. Then it was over, his last but one evening on the island.

32

After the night out at the disco, Ben found time fast accelerating towards the moment he would have to board the ferry and head back home, leaving Fon adrift on her tiny island. It would be like falling off the precipice at the end of the world. Now in his last full day, the thought of leaving her was too awful to contemplate and he tried to banish it from his mind. Being with Fon was a bond that seemed impossible to break and somehow the parting seemed distant and remote. It helped that she was still in high spirits, though she was busy all day and the sun was already setting when his final massage began.

In flirtatious mood, she kept repeating a line from a song as she worked.

‘Hua Hin bpen tin mee hoy,'
she sang.

‘What are you singing?'

‘Thai love song.'

‘So what's it about then?'

‘It say beach Hua Hin have many shell.'

‘What's that got to do with a love story?' asked Ben intrigued.

‘Song say
farang
wait on beach for shell.'

‘Farang
wait for shell? What does that mean?'

‘Open shell, inside same lady.
Farang
look for lady on beach,' she giggled coyly.

‘That's a bit direct, isn't it?'

He was again struck by the earthiness of the rural Thais.

‘Farang
all the same,' she said. ‘Same you … want to go with lady.'

‘No, it's only you I want, Fon … and that's because I love you,' he said with added conviction as she firmly massaged his shoulders.

‘You say
farang
marry for love,' said Fon giving his neck an extra hard

squeeze. ‘So better I marry
farang!
'

‘Well, at least we do try to be faithful.'

‘Okay then Ben, tomorrow before you go, we marry … yes?' She dissolved into peals of laughter, leaving him feeling slightly uncomfortable.

As the massage ended, Ben now wanted to plan the rest of their last evening together.

‘We'll eat together tonight then, just you and me?' he asked her.

‘Yes, no problem.'

‘Let's go to the beach we ate at before.'

‘Okay,' said Fon packing up her things.

‘I'll go change and wait for you here,' he said. ‘Be quick, we've so little time.'

Ben had a shower and put on cotton trousers and his last clean shirt and sat on the beach and waited. When Fon at last appeared, he realised why she had taken so long. She was carefully made up, looking a little severe in a dark sarong and a tight black sleeveless blouse, her hair formally piled up on top. Her face was impassive and unsmiling, the earlier lightness now gone. As they walked over the headland and along the coast path, she was the first to speak.

‘Tomorrow you go what boat, Ben?'

‘Eleven thirty. Gives time to say goodbye and get the Bangkok bus.'

‘And when you fly England?'

‘The day after tomorrow late at night.'

Fon said nothing in reply.

As they ordered food at their favourite beach and began to eat, the sombre mood lifted a little, but Ben was disturbed that there were so many things unresolved between them. So much still needed to be said.

‘It's going to be awful leaving you tomorrow,' he began. ‘I hate goodbyes.'

‘No problem Ben, you come back when you get money. I wait you here.'

He was wondering how she was so sure he would return when she asked him a difficult question.

‘Your girlfriend … you seeing her again?'

‘No,' said Ben, feeling a bit guilty but figuring she would not answer his awkward questions either. He wanted to ask about the boyfriend she had talked about when they first met, but knew he would not get a proper answer. Instead he raised something else that had been bothering him.

‘Fon, you told me not to come back to Ao Sapporot, but you changed your mind. Have there been any problems for you?'

‘People say, “Fon, when you marry Ben?”'

‘They've got a nerve. Why can't we just be boyfriend and girlfriend?'

‘Because if we not married, then I go with
farang
for money.'

‘Oh God, Fon, not that again.'

‘And they say to Joy, “You like, now you have Papa
farang
?” So Joy, she say, “Yes, I like.”'

Ben stopped eating and sat bolt upright.

‘Why can't people leave you alone, Fon?' he said angrily. ‘You work your butt off all the time and you'd never be bought by anyone.'

‘Yes, my life's my work,' she said. ‘When cannot work, maybe shave my head, go monastery.'

To Ben's relief she hooted with laughter.

‘Yes, but Fon, I want you to have a life, to make something of yourself right now.'

‘What life? Which dream?'

‘Fon, I just can't bear the thought of leaving you behind.'

‘So I get passport? Go England?' she said, her smile vanishing.

‘It's not that easy to get a visa … you know what they think about Thai women. But Fon, trust me, please … you've got to trust me.'

‘You have good heart, Ben. I do trust you,
jing jing.'

Walking back to Ao Sapporot after the meal, they left the path and walked to the rocks overlooking the beach where once before they had almost kissed. This time the moon was full and there was no restraint. They held each other tightly, Fon straining upwards, her arms around Ben's neck. After a time they hid together in the rocks, Fon sitting between his knees, cradled back against him. Twisting round, she pulled him towards her and clung to him, her breath coming in short gasps. When at last they disengaged, she lay in his arms looking up at him.

Ben knew that whatever was to be said between them had to be said now. This was probably their last chance.

‘I keep telling you how I feel about you, Fon,' he began, ‘but you told me you'll only say when your heart's sure as a rock. I go home tomorrow and I have to know.'

‘Last time say I love you forty percent … now go up litty bit!' she said, trying to lighten things with a laugh.

‘Fon, seriously, I can't go away not knowing.'

‘Okay, Ben, I love you ninety five percent … maybe ninety nine!'

She gave him a roguish smile.

‘Fon, you're playing with me again.'

‘No, Ben, not playing. How I ask you come here with me if not serious?'

‘So are you sure of your feelings then?'

‘Sure. Since you come back Koh Samet, I know my heart.'

‘Yes Fon, but what do you feel? You've got to tell me,' he demanded impatiently.

‘Ben, I tell you. Now I know my heart same rock.'

When Ben finally got back to his hut late that last night, there were still ten hours before he was to be parted from Fon. On waking the next morning, he had only four and a half hours left before the eleven thirty ferry was due to leave. Nearing the end of the world, he could not yet see the edge of the precipice, though he knew it was coming very close.

He slowly packed his things, paid the bill for his hut and went down for breakfast. He could hardly eat. When Fon did not appear, he decided to wait for her on the fallen tree trunk and within minutes saw her coming along the beach. She was in dark slacks and a grey top and could only manage a shadow of her usual smile.

‘Where were you?' said Ben.

‘Have booking nine o'clock and start massage. When I not see you, give Gaeo to finish, then come looking.'

‘You okay?'

‘Have to be, Ben.'

He felt sick, his heart thumping, his mouth dry.

‘What are you going to do now?' he asked her.

‘Help you do your bag.'

‘You mean in my room?' She had never come near his hut before.

‘Yes, why not?' she said.

As they walked, they passed some cleaners admiring a new motorcycle and Fon stopped to talk to them, leaving Ben to go ahead on his own. He was just finishing brushing his teeth at the sink when she appeared round the door, smiling and animated. She came up behind him, slipped her arms round his waist and pressed herself up against him. He turned to face her and they held each other for the last time, unselfconsciously admiring themselves in the mirror.

‘We look good together, you and me,' he said.

‘Yes … beautiful dream!'

‘I can't bear it … this time it'll really kill me,' he sighed.

‘Up to you, Ben. I have to be strong for Joy,' said Fon coolly.

Then Ben tried to kiss her, but she resisted him.

‘No, Ben, not here. I shy,' she said.

‘But nobody can see us,' he protested.

‘Not now … too hot inside.'

Hearing the cleaners coming to make up the hut for the next guests, she slipped away from him and went to the door.

Now it was finally all over. Ben could do nothing to step back from the void that was opening up in front of him. Stuffing his spongebag into the top of his rucksack he lifted it over one shoulder and followed Fon out onto the veranda and down the steps.

‘So what now?' he asked her.

‘Have booking manicure, ten thirty,' she said.

He was dismayed at first but then relieved; at least it would help fill the awful final hour. There was nowhere they could go to be alone, there was nothing more that could be said or done.

Fon found her customer, a pleasant middle-aged woman sitting in a deckchair by the beach restaurant. She collected her box from under a tree, knelt down on the sand beside the deckchair and began the manicure. Ben sat at a table nearby and watched, going through the motions of reading the novel he had tucked down the pocket of his pack. Time was inexorable as with total concentration Fon trimmed the woman's finger nails, clipping and filing and applying crimson nail varnish. Lost in her work she did not once glance up, even though Ben was sitting so close by. It was as if he had already gone, the leave-taking over.

He was disturbed by her detachment, though her ashen face gave her away. For a few moments she chatted happily with the woman as she worked, then asked him to get her a bottle of drinking water. As he walked to the bar, Gaeo came up to say goodbye and squeezed his arm affectionately. Blinking back tears he just managed to blurt out, ‘Look after Fon for me,' before stumbling on, head down.

When a vendor came by selling fruit, Fon wanted a coconut with a straw. Ben got it for her and bought some bananas for the long journey. He wandered off to check that his rucksack was still where he had left it, but still Fon did not look up. It was now almost time to go as the boat boys were launching the shuttle boat. This was the moment he most dreaded.

When the manicure was finished, he rejoined her and for a few moments they were alone together, sitting on her blue sheet on the sand. She was silent, her eyes down, and then in the dying seconds she spoke.

‘Ben, your nails … can cut them for you,' she said, taking his hand in hers and cutting them for him; far too short for his liking, though he was past caring.

He stared at her intently for the last time. Looking so tragic, she somehow seemed even smaller than before. He desperately wanted to say something significant, something memorable, but nothing came.

‘Thanks Fon,' was all he could say as she put her nail clippers away.

‘Okay Ben, manicure free today, but next time you pay!' She looked up and gave him a wan smile.

By now the small boat had already left the beach loaded with tourists on its first trip to where the ferry was moored in the bay.

‘Look,' said Ben, ‘the boat's gone. But no problem, I'll just have to stay.'

‘And I can get passport … go England,' said Fon.

It was a valiant effort but it did not help and Ben now wanted it to be over. The real goodbye had been in his room in front of the mirror an hour or so earlier. This was just prolonging the agony.

When he realised the boat had returned to the beach, he glanced uselessly at his watch. They both got up and stood side by side under the trees looking out to sea at the ferry that would take him away. But they were still briefly together; it was not yet quite over. Their fingers became intertwined, a gentle squeeze, a sidelong glance, all the world oblivious to them. Then he let go of her hand and shouldered his rucksack.

Fon said, ‘See you, Ben.' And, in a choked voice, Ben said, ‘Yes, see you, Fon,' and stumbled off down the beach under the weight of his pack. Fon did not follow but stood rooted to the spot as if in shock.