Tuesday, August 14, 2001..
Another diversion , so quickly am I overtaken by events
On the sixth Of this month, I was, we were, Cynthia, Laura and I at Costinesti on the Black Sea, a place quite comparable to Pattaya…
7.30 a.m. Glorious , hot.
In the chalet next to mine, a older man sitting on the step with a can of beer , looking rather the worse for life. A early starter, I thought . Hardly took any notice . Cynthia came out , immediately greeting this gentleman,
“Oh ! Hello Bernt !! “
“ You know him??” I said, curious.
“Yes , of course”
“ Is it the Belgian man ?”
‘No, it’s the German Man’
“What German man ??”
‘You know.. the one who ran off with Aura! “
Looked at him , looked at Cynthia. Aura..!! German !! did not recognize him.. seen him once or twice before, but he had aged considerably. Looked at him ………
asked the $50 question… ??
‘Where’s Aura ??”
“I left her…” He said deceptively.
Smiled at this, thinking, that’s alright, satisfied..…
Wondered what he was doing here in Costinesti ??
‘Leaving now ..do not like the heavy music “ he did have a point… music??! Decibels… ! twenty four hours every day.
Said to him ‘It’s cheap…”
“Money is of no consideration to me’
Well, I thought . lucky you. Aura gone.. God knows where .. He here… Peter not really thinking too clever..
Laura sitting idly watching all this, taking it all in.. swinging her body to the music plugged into her ears, looking so delicious in her topless nothing, long hair to the waist, skin the colour of bronze.
He looked at her ..looked at her again.. looked at me and disappeared inside his little wooden hut, popping out again with a small child and his junk ..all packed.
Asked whom the child may be ? he quite glib, saying it belonged to the woman he was with, naturally I assumed he had picked up someone with a child.. odd.. but my mind still engrossed on Aura.
He looked at Laura again and announced he was leaving immediately, now.
Laura played it up to the hilt pouting at him… crossing her legs provocatively.
A child came out fully dressed and this woman stepped out after it.. She slightly overweight… dressed.. no one dresses in Costinesti, It is a situation of undress.
She had a green two piece suit on, black, low heel shoes, hair, immaculate, as if she had just stepped from the saloon, only the briefest glimpse of her as she quickly turned her back and strode off ……..”up the garden path”, so to speak.. and they were gone …
Thought to myself “That’s a funny turn out”
Anyway, ten minutes later he comes back, breathless, quite apparently agitated, some pretext, it being he was looking for his watch , told him it was on his wrist.
Could see he was very confused, see he wanted something, other than the watch….
He rushed into the room banged about for a few seconds and came out, obviously having made some decision.
Actually I am married to Aura !!.. been married to her for two months !!:
I, Quite shaken.. very shaken.
‘Was that her who walked out ??”
He said “Yes”
Immediately blew my top
“Why the fuck didn’t she say Hello!! After all I did for her?? She is entitled to say hello.. not simply ignore me”
“Well.. she does not want to speak to you “
“Typical of all of them , none want to say thank you, everything that woman is , irrespective , is what I made her, she was a nonentity, now quite obviously, she is a something, a something to be reckoned with.
He thought it was going to develop into trouble, but I calmed down..
He, seeing the change, became fatuous.. Uriah Heep.. said quietly:
“ Could I ask you a question??”
“Can if you want”
“Did you have sex with Aura ???”
Looked at him straight in the face.. I don’t believe this.. what has Aura told the silly bastard
“Did I have sex with Aura !!!? ”
When did we ever stop having sex!!…What a question…
“To be perfectly fair, now that you are married to her I really cannot answer “
He persisted “Do you have any erotic photographs of her ???”
“Only the one you stole from my apartment…”
Forgot to mention she was the most photographed, most filmed, most fucked, most erotic, most sensuous woman I had ever met .
He was not happy .
Asked where she may be? said she was sitting in a taxi up the road ..Suggested he had better go. He hardly wanted that , he wanted more, more about the woman.. the woman he had so blithely married, a whole barrage of questions which I demurred at..
Eventually he came up with…
"How is it I find $100 bills and 50 mark notes in her pockets ?"
Parried that one saying "Perhaps I gave them to her..”
“No this was after you”
What a stupid bastard..
Aura is obviously still “At It” and she is extremely clever at the ‘game…’ I never knew what was going on until I was told.. The last to know.. Even when the woman in Enescu screamed at her for being a ‘Prostitute” a countered angrily by saying she had made a “mistake!!” never for a moment thinking otherwise.. Men are both blind and stupid when it comes to the other sex, when it comes to the very edge of the precipice.
Clever woman, Aura, loves her occupation, as so many do....
When his back is turned .. same as when mine was.. in England, grinding away on the streets, she in Bucuresti, grinding away on a bed or anywhere, actually.
Thought ..”Well fuck you, you stew in it” ….she has sucked him in and blown him out in bubbles.
Ignoring my initial outburst, had become quite calm. I taken so back , that this unglamorous woman I had just seen was Aura, evidently been partaking of the German cheese cake without consideration to her figure…
Dressed!! She hardly wore enough to cover her fanny when she was with me, Costinesti is a place where everything is let go… people are semi naked
He could see I was elsewhere with my thoughts . His final shot
“ What do you think I should do about her!!?
“ What do you mean? what do I think you should do..??? you married her.. who’s the child ??
“ Oh.. that’s Aura’s nephew”
Fucking Aura..!! she has married the man.. goes to Germany with him.. drags him back to Costinesti.. drags some kid round with her , no doubt to alleviate the boredom….. Auld lang syne!!!
Perhaps she wanted to rekindle a spark of the past, there certainly is not now the slightest spark in the man she married.. married him for what he could give her……..I smiled.. still did not say anything ..let the silly bastard stew in her juice, Done him up like a kipper… indeed she has.. She so clever as any Thai Lady. My best pupil……
Why I did not recognize him being, all the aggravation, the struggle he had with her, has simply aged him. Looked reasonable when I last glimpsed him in the photograph she showed me of them together, they looked the business.. but that was a year ago and time is relentless, remorseless. Infinitely without mercy.
Here was a man, married for thirty years, with three children Aura’s age, now divorced, up to the neck with alimony and Aura shackled to him.
I can only ask , as ever, why are men so stupid ?
Realizing I was not going to give him anything of the past .. he fucked off with a final look at Laura who had intently paid attention to this odd encounter
Quite honestly, once I took a deep breath and thought about it, I was really knocked, really knocked.
How can this be!!
Aura to me, in my eyes, was such a wonderful person, so erotic, so sensuous all the time. One man was useless to her, she was always suggesting her desire for more than one man, as with SOS who knocked off 23 men in one evenings’ entertainment, hardly think Aura has beaten this.. yet…without doubt she could, will …insatiable..
As he walked away, perhaps thinking out loud… said
“I’m going to watch her”
No doubt with reference to the mysterious money in her pockets…
What an attitude to take between what is a fact.. man and wife…
Here is a man married two months to this young woman, she blatantly back to her favorite occupation ..doing what she is best at and getting rewarded for it.. Fair enough…, I am unable to sympathize, I never saw her game, why should he have ?? Unable to sympathize with the man, any man.
Men are stupid when it comes to a woman. I know not one who has come out in front regarding a female.
Mesmerized.. indeed I was… But I, always aware, as written previously, that it would end .. the ending, how it ended, a very big surprise to Peter.. really underestimated what a brilliant strategist she was.
No, Aura disregarded what the man she married was, closed her eyes , wanted his being.. his access to the West, his identity , at any cost… even being a alcoholic, even that !
There were other things against him. His marriage , his children. He did have a good job with Lufthansa which helped. He was a German citizen, which is what she always wanted.. to go to Germany. To escape from Romania, as so many females.. All anxiously willing to stand up, or lie down, anywhere and obviously, with anyone… for a exit visa.
If she had waited one more year she could have gone anywhere in Europe without him……
So she achieved.. at a price.. So many of her uncertainties swept away by this strong move. Free of the University, free of the thought of semi starvation, free of Peter.. The two secure years she spent with me, the education I gave her. Her serious grasp gained of the English language.. all very sharp arrows to her armoury, Peter fully putting her on her feet, all this, no doubt, carefully calculated. All at a price.
As have said so many times, there is always a price and she paid heavily .
Now, sitting here , with my drink this calm Sunday morning, Cynthia at church .. I can only cross myself ….
Ace , King , Queen, Jack.. in numele, Tatalui si Fiului, si Sfantului Duh, Amin….. I, deeply sorry for her. The fact she had not chosen to confide in me, the insidious deception, the treachery, a bitter disappointment.
I have lost a great deal of the remaining hope, hope carried continuously throughout my existence, over this short, sharp, encounter.
The feeling I have about her now is that she is dead…
Dead inside me.
Smile to my face once it sank in she has come back here to Costinesti, a place where all her inhibitions and hang ups, she did have plenty…were thrown to the wind, with her clothes.
Our first time on the so secluded, languid, beach, I had to rip her bikini off .. after that she never wore anything, regardless of the of the odd man who casually walked so close to us .
Suppose she remembered all this, what other reason did she come back to the Black Sea for??
So far from Frankfurt.
What choked me is that she went back to Costinesti …Peter.. must have realized the odds were short, a good chance of meeting.. knows I am always there.. Now at the chance of the face to face ..she refuses..
To think it was only a few weeks ago I wrote about the remote odds of seeing her again.. and it has come up, like winning the lottery…and in the next Chalet !! there must be a couple of hundred, yet she was next to me… Fate played a wry card..
No answer to this life.
No answer to fate
No answer to the twists and turns between love and hate.
No answer to the slings and arrows of
outrageous fortune.
No answer to Aura, or any other woman on this Planet.
Sunday, August 19, 2001……… 4:06 PM
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Se afișează postările cu eticheta Pa. Afișați toate postările
Se afișează postările cu eticheta Pa. Afișați toate postările
Friday, July 27th ….2001.
As said so many times over the years, difficult to keep picking up pieces of my existence , so much occurring by way of distraction.
Now nine months since Aura and I parted with such bitter hostility, have not seen her, which hardly means I have not thought about her. My only conclusion is that it was a tragedy .. a strong word … perhaps, but I hardly sit and think for so very long without coming up with a few well placed words.
Aura falls in the category of Jennifer, AndreeA ..someone who will not go away from the back of my brain, ever, someone I will always watch out for, but never see again. There have been one or two exceptions to this, but the odds are heavily against.
I resist going to those places we always went….the park “The” park where we strolled on the summer sunny afternoons, she looking quite incredibly attractive in her short skirt, showing her long legs, her brief tops showing all of her which discretion would allow.. ..The looks we received from those squatting on the benches in the shade, they looked and actually stopped talking while we passed, their eyes following us ..a unusual “couple ‘ to say the least.
No, such moments in eternity are stamped indelibly, they are but “moments” against the reality.. A very harsh one.
Her deception of Peter, done with the skill of a professional, has never ceased to amaze me,. a simple country girl originally ….
Invariably, without exception, they all have bitten the hand that fed them. No doubt, she applied the same effort to her double life as passing her solicitors exams… with deep determination.
Played her part all the way to Otopeni Airport, where, I am told, she waited patiently for the German to arrive just a few hours after my departure, such impeccable timing…
Not quite so blatant as Pa at Bangkok Airport when she picked up the Swiss man, actually in the airport while I was waiting for a baggage check, she did look a million dollars, with her hair platted Thai fashion, down below her waste, a white bolero top which concealed nothing, briefest of white shorts and high heeled shoes supporting her five foot nothing exceptional chassis. Midnight and the place had almost come to a standstill staring at her.. She waved and smiled at me Returned to Pattaya with him in the cab I had paid for.. told me this with some hilarity.
No deception on her part… No treachery… we played by the rules…
Aura played for Aura … I can never even start to forgive her for that.
Possibly, to other people, my life has at least been different, then, as I have reiterated to all the those who hang back from changing their lives, that which I have, what I appear to have, is something I have worked for.. worked for consistently, maybe unconsciously, working to this vague undefined end, to sit here in Bucuresti, this glorious sunny morning, in relative peace and dare I say it, with comparative few problems. Only in such backwaters of time am I able to sit, wait, fornicate…….. write.
Now nine months since Aura and I parted with such bitter hostility, have not seen her, which hardly means I have not thought about her. My only conclusion is that it was a tragedy .. a strong word … perhaps, but I hardly sit and think for so very long without coming up with a few well placed words.
Aura falls in the category of Jennifer, AndreeA ..someone who will not go away from the back of my brain, ever, someone I will always watch out for, but never see again. There have been one or two exceptions to this, but the odds are heavily against.
I resist going to those places we always went….the park “The” park where we strolled on the summer sunny afternoons, she looking quite incredibly attractive in her short skirt, showing her long legs, her brief tops showing all of her which discretion would allow.. ..The looks we received from those squatting on the benches in the shade, they looked and actually stopped talking while we passed, their eyes following us ..a unusual “couple ‘ to say the least.
No, such moments in eternity are stamped indelibly, they are but “moments” against the reality.. A very harsh one.
Her deception of Peter, done with the skill of a professional, has never ceased to amaze me,. a simple country girl originally ….
Invariably, without exception, they all have bitten the hand that fed them. No doubt, she applied the same effort to her double life as passing her solicitors exams… with deep determination.
Played her part all the way to Otopeni Airport, where, I am told, she waited patiently for the German to arrive just a few hours after my departure, such impeccable timing…
Not quite so blatant as Pa at Bangkok Airport when she picked up the Swiss man, actually in the airport while I was waiting for a baggage check, she did look a million dollars, with her hair platted Thai fashion, down below her waste, a white bolero top which concealed nothing, briefest of white shorts and high heeled shoes supporting her five foot nothing exceptional chassis. Midnight and the place had almost come to a standstill staring at her.. She waved and smiled at me Returned to Pattaya with him in the cab I had paid for.. told me this with some hilarity.
No deception on her part… No treachery… we played by the rules…
Aura played for Aura … I can never even start to forgive her for that.
Possibly, to other people, my life has at least been different, then, as I have reiterated to all the those who hang back from changing their lives, that which I have, what I appear to have, is something I have worked for.. worked for consistently, maybe unconsciously, working to this vague undefined end, to sit here in Bucuresti, this glorious sunny morning, in relative peace and dare I say it, with comparative few problems. Only in such backwaters of time am I able to sit, wait, fornicate…….. write.
Pattaya and Pa………….
Not difficult to recall the beginning of the eight months that I lost contact with reality, now, at the end of this period, the difficulties arise, the gradual realization of having been left with nothing through the experience and the further realization that when one is down and alone, people revert to their basic instincts, even people I had considered friends, relatives included, these people will, unhesitatingly, go for whatever they consider is worth the taking, even your home ,with a certain air of disdain, willing to condescend to letting one live in a back room “Share kitchen and bathroom” fortunate to be given such favorable terms.. In my case I quickly started to recover at the thought, not having seen my son or his wife since that day.
My slide into obscurity began inauspiciously in Pattaya, in Thailand, by the pool in the Palm Villa Hotel, the first week of January. 1993.
I thinking of London, cold, bleak, the body moving business, the Turks, SuJack, only in the odd moments... when not preoccupied with the Sun, the practically idyllic surroundings, the young, very young, nubile girls, dressed in the briefest of swimwear, splashing aimlessly in the azure water, as if time did not exist, as if there were no reality, as if whatever had passed before in my life had been part of a prolonged, painful, dream.
Pa there, determinedly playing cards with some of the girls in the shade, sitting tightly cross-legged on a white, wide, high back chair, playing for big stakes, a fiercely determined expression on her face, never seen that before, she was always so soft, so unconcerned , so considerate. Maybe I had noticed a change in her a few days previously, but dismissed it as imagination. Having known her for a long time, she had never been anything but attentive towards me.
Never able to forget our first meeting during the April Water Festival.... had been on the motor bike cruising.. looking ..the usual thing.... There had been a big commotion outside the 'No Hands Bar' I stopped in the crowd , water and packets of flour being flung everywhere . Suddenly out of the melee she was running, laughing, being chased by two or three men. She simply jumped on the back of the bike, revved it and rushed away with her clinging quite unconcernedly to me , as if we had always known each other, head on my shoulder, arms clasped about my practically bare body.
Something had clicked shut inside my mind at that precise moment in time, as if I were suddenly complete, as if all my searching for whatever it was that had always eluded me, had finally been found. Such was her impact on my existence. A strange, unreal, sensation , all the wrongs of my life had suddenly been righted, that nothing, nothing else at all mattered, simply that this completely unknown young woman. was with me .
From that moment I had lived her, breathed her, never for a split second doubting that she also felt the same way regarding myself.
That meeting had occurred when it was “Come in Number Seven” my time up, almost immediately after that fateful day, quite devastated at the realization, trying to think of any way to stay on. Going through all the normal procedures, getting all the normal rejections at the Airline ticket office . Certainly I could stay on, only it would cost a arm and a leg. These people not being slow seizing on any such situation, the slightest opportunity to make the dollar. I simply could not match their terms. It meant going back to the real world. That last evening alone with her being one of the longest and most painful in my life.
We sat quietly in my white room at the V and M Terrace Hotel, the window looking onto the small garden, the Blue Cross on the hospital opposite, already flashing in the soft dusk of evening. Looked at her few pathetic things.. the sum total of her life spread out before her. the whole lot fitting into a small hold all. She would need money until I returned within the month, not only for herself but for her child and mother.. .also her fare up into the sticks in Laos. I tried to imagine what she described , in her broken, halting English . A tin roofed hut , bamboo walls, the lot standing on poles above the water complete with buffalo beneath. Everywhere infested, no doubt, with mosquitoes. Electricity at a price, a television she had managed to get for her small son. Water had to be carried. She told this story flat, without any emphasis, her voice soft, calm. I asked about the boy . A man , a man from Denmark had suggested a child, she had replied "Why Not?' never seeing him again. The usual story repeated over and over by every girl . A certain hope mixed with fatalism, a resignation to the inevitable.
It had taken two years and about ten trips before I started waking up to Pa .. the euphoria sliding slowly, silently, away , my visits not quite fitting in with her schedules I, becoming little more than part of her payroll ..someone to be tolerated with that aspect in mind ……………a feature of Thai existence
Dave, an accountant, quietly on the run for fiddling clients accounts, a very pleasant, talkative man, asked why I was putting up with 'The Treatment" " You should out her". Nodding towards Pa, who by now had been glaring at me almost with contempt after my trying to break up her card game. She was in for about 5000bhts. A months wages "straight" out there would be about 1000bhts. A twelve hour day for one pound Sterling
Started to feel as if small pieces of my brain were breaking away inside my head, becoming difficult to focus on anything , anything other the painful fact that Pa was giving me a very hard time, looking very attractive in her bikini, the glasses added something rather than detracted, reminding me of someone I used to know, rare to see a young, Thai woman with them, they kept slipping down her nose on the perspiration, she pushing them back with her so small, so beautifully manicured index finger.
The sun burnt down on the men somehow washed up on this tranquil shore, so far and so different from what was previously known to them, surrounded by sex, its inherent problems,. which could conveniently be dropped the moment they arose, by those astute enough….. a type of freedom now mostly unknown in Western Civilization . Evidently I was one of those who could not simply walk away, unable to look elsewhere, as if ordering a different meal at a restaurant.
Pa had a tight grip on my existence, knowing instinctively what was expected from a woman and knowing exactly how to give it..
Quite small, well built, all the right things in all the right places, her head reaching halfway up my chest. Long thick, completely straight, black hair reaching below her waist. I always insisted pleated in the traditional Thai way with three different colored ribbons. She moved distinctively, as a tigress.
Sat brooding, finding faults with her, real or imaginary, doing some arithmetic as to her running costs. The previous day simply having to buy her some glasses, her eyesight had become really bad when it came to reading, had noticed her squinting in the past but let it go. Glasses out there are not cheap, nothing is really cheap in Thailand, you pay one way or the other. Today part of her sulks was that I failed to come up with her stake money. Noticed she had not stopped hitting the Sinhga beer, probably the strongest in the world, made with Embalming fluid. She could down seven bottles a night, one would put most men out for the night
Finally the sun started to slope away from the vertical, moving into the trees throwing long patches of shade onto the hot concrete, Slightly cooler, the old men began lifting their bodies from the beds and deck chairs, the girls busy round them wiping their extended layers of fat with colored towels. Then drifting off in pairs hand in hand towards the bungalows . Pa and her three companions remained absorbed in the game which had now been going on all day, during that time she had acknowledged my existence enough to ask me for some money and to order a meal for her.
Looked at the pool, its exotic surroundings, every inch of it etched in my brain with a needle of steel, realizing that most of the few good things I had ever experienced in my existence had happened in, near, or by this particular spot.
The deterioration in my mental condition accelerated from that moment. Suddenly deciding to get up, walk into the hotel, get money from the safe, get on my motor bike and go round to the V&M Terrace Hotel and book in, a place where I was well known, having stayed there many times.
Felt agitated, guilty, nervous, attempting desperately to smile at all the cleaning girls who were finishing work for the day.. Gaily laughing at me, wanting to know where I had been , why I had not visited them, remarking the amount of weight I had lost since my previous trip. These ladies missed nothing, not the slightest detail, their lives absorbed in other people's. Amazingly they always seemed so cheerful, always smiling on their one pound sterling a day. A full twelve hours.
Pa had not bothered to look up from her cards at my departure. For some reason I did not want her to become aware of my movements, becoming obsessively secretive, imperative that I did not see her again, simply unable to face her not wanting me , hiding, my only solution, knowing that this was symptomatic of the illness eating into my head.
The receptionist at the V & M looked at me in a way that stuck in mind. Knew the woman quite well, yet she was looking into, rather than at me, as if she could see something I only becoming aware of . Gave me my old room on the ground floor with the small garden outside the window.
This, a mistake, Pa and I had spent long periods of time between the air conditioned, white, walls, the blue cross on the hospital opposite burning through night. A room intensely full of memories, but, too late, too late to move, little more strength left, it had been eaten away by the turmoil, stress, anguish, confusion in my brain.
Instinctively, knew that by now Pa would be starting to look. Waiting, back in the bungalow, its rickety, high one room. Its’ huge bed with the torn mattress, the fan gyrating slowly, endlessly, the lizards motionless, hanging on the beams, crickets and frogs starting their evening chorus.
She would be in the shower, water pouring, cascading. The long hair, down below her waist, clinging over her small firm breasts. Apparent, I would have to get back, collect my gear, face her, in spite of my misgivings, yet, I did not want to upset the situation, did not want any scene, she, just as fragile underneath all that professionalism, all that confidence.
Went down to the 'No Hands Bar' needed a drink something, anything, to throw off this deep depression that had gripped me so tightly. People looking at me, at my face, asking "Where ‘s Pa ?" we inseparable and "why don’t you get rid of her.. tell her to simply go away" Most of all they delighted in reminding me that she was “Queen of the Billionaires Bar", what this entailed, can only be left to the imagination.
I hardly cared what she was , or had been. She had always been everything I ever wanted, there were never any arguments, never spoke about the other side of her existence, or mine. When men who obviously knew her approached, she would ignore them. Only once, very late, at the Bamboo bar, did she suddenly get up and walk carefully amongst the crowd, finally sitting close to a man on a wicker sofa in the far corner of the darkened room… I had looked again …………and they were both gone.
Returned to the Palm Villa. Dark, the darkness had come suddenly, no long twilight , walked between the bungalows sitting in the thick tropical growth of trees and flowers, trying to get some control over myself and my feelings
Key in the door she lying naked, front down on the bed in the darkened room, pillow under her chest, head cupped in her hands, watching the box, the light flickering on her face, from the pornography . Turned her head towards me, a small question mark.. probably aware that my body was trembling, rolled to her side holding an arm out to me. …something I could no longer handle.. . more or less falling into the shower trying to control my brain which was badly fluctuating, realizing that it was now imperative for me to get back to the U.K. ... no longer capable of handling Pa or the whole situation . Many other men had also stumbled badly, disastrously in this situation ………the strange mystique of this dreamland ,so remote from reality.
The room in darkness other from reflected lights outside, she lay quite still on the bed.
Eight o’clock, knew, whatever happened, she would be wide awake and ready for the “off” at Midnight.
Swallowed a sleeping pill, gave one to her . Strangely she had never questioned what I gave her to take and there had been a few concoctions. She put the glass back on the sloping, broken, table next to the bed , my body uneasily next to hers.
"What's wrong Peter??” all her aggression gone.
I never answered. It was impossible express my feelings, how to explain myself
“Do you want sex?"
she persisted, rolling on to me, so incredibly soft in every respect in every conceivable way, the electricity passing from her made my every nerve end tingle.
Remained motionless, a cold perspiration running off my head into my eyes.
She waited, poised, her finger tips moving across my skin, my mouth became tight and dry, my body paralyzed with doubts, indecision’s and desire.
"Why don't you speak?"
Whispering, her breath cool and clear, her mouth rubbing my ear, so very gently, as if afraid the slightest discord would completely fracture the fragile situation, plunging us into a final nowhere
It seemed a very long time before she slid off my inertia, turning on her side away from me
Opened my eyes……the light on.
She, sitting at the small wooden dressing table .. watched the movement of her breasts in the mirror as the brush pulled down her long hair, the only make up she ever wore was a color round her eyes, tonight , a very pale green .
With one of my shirts on, a pair of shorts cut to her navel, pair of white, high heels, nothing else She, ready...captivating.. the business…..
Looked at my watch, one minute past midnight………. She precisely on time, moved, sitting on the edge of the bed, intent, intent on Peter.
"Your tired…go to sleep”
Her small hand over my eyes.
"I won't be long ......"
Her voice soft, tender, gentle, as if to sooth me back to oblivion.. At her best…the moment she set foot onto the pathway between the bungalows, I would be forgotten totally and completely , her only misgiving, that her charm may not work, that I may suddenly want to go with her. Her mind firmly fixed on the "Strip” and the "Marine Bar" in particular, to be free , hardly needed Peter there………..
Played my part, "Goodnight doll... don't drink too much and be careful"
Trying to sound as if about to drop off.
She poised hesitantly, so very beautiful, her face a perfect, small oval, a picture of complete innocence.
"Oh !” almost forgetting my the next move.
"Take some money off the side"
She brightened at this.
"and remember if I go out will leave the key under the plants beside the door"
Tried to make this sound casual.... whatever, not wanting her making a racket after staggering back at daylight, unable to get in, the place deserted. She did a half take, kissed me on the cheek, quickly picked up the necessary and was gone, silent, like a ghost.
We were never to see each other again.
Waited a long time in the absolute silence. All creatures great and small, had gone to sleep, even the lizards had finally locked themselves motionless on the high wooden beams, the dogs had ceased barking faintly in the distance, the hard, arrogant, incessant grunt of the German next door finally stopped, the moans of his so young companion died away. The only time he ever left her alone was during his sleep.
Almost one a.m. night poised, expectant, things starting to buzz on the “Strip”
By now Pa would have jumped on the knee of the first man she fancied in the huge, hot, reverberating, crowded room, regardless of whom he was with, arms round him, her warm firm body pressed tight, the voltage surging out from her. There could be no resistance.
Felt suddenly very sad, isolated, looked about the room I knew so well, the soft light from the bedside lamp throwing long shadows up the walls and onto the remains of what had been.
*******************************************************
There was more junk to pack than appeared possible, shoved it in the bags anyhow, a sense of urgency , no way did I want Pa to come strolling nonchalantly back having become bored with the scene down the road. She did have sane moments. I would have been mincemeat to her in such a conciliatory mood, spreading her strong self over me, smothering any resolution I may have left, astride, on top of my body, refusing to dismount until I was just a sweat soaked, wreck.
Finally, everything appeared to be together, all that remained was a last gesture towards Pa. The rickety dressing table, the two hair clips she had demanded In the "Day and Night" A brush, the full Bart wedding ring she had so ceremoniously bought me, I placed on top of photographs of us together.
Meticulously tidied the table up, could hear them saying "You didn’t leave her money!"
Put a few hundred dollars under the photographs, the watch, next to the ring, had liked that. Everyone had been in total disbelief of her buying a ring…for Peter…. such a large piece of gold for a Farang… almost without precedent, the rickety table, a shrine, if you like, to what had been.
There was a great deal of pressure. Underneath all this something was saying “You’re a miserable bastard" which is true "you know she doesn’t have a pot to piss in", which was also true.
These ladies, mostly have little to show for giving their best years to the Farang, almost everything going to their parents and their children. But I had run before, there had been other females, other faces, other places.
Simply survival… my survival. Most men quickly lose the initiative, the ability to run, too burdened with “what is” the hole they have all so unwittingly dug themselves so deeply into.
By the time I dragged myself out into soft, scented night, stars hanging on the rooftops, placed the key under the plants, struggled down to Soi.2, I, almost in a state of collapse.
The Taxi swirled to a stop in a cloud of dust beside me, threw my junk into the open back, fell in after it and was rushed unceremoniously away on my long journey back, back to deepest, darkest, Hackney and the gaunt hospital where they still possessed the records from my previous breakdown a decade ago.
My slide into obscurity began inauspiciously in Pattaya, in Thailand, by the pool in the Palm Villa Hotel, the first week of January. 1993.
I thinking of London, cold, bleak, the body moving business, the Turks, SuJack, only in the odd moments... when not preoccupied with the Sun, the practically idyllic surroundings, the young, very young, nubile girls, dressed in the briefest of swimwear, splashing aimlessly in the azure water, as if time did not exist, as if there were no reality, as if whatever had passed before in my life had been part of a prolonged, painful, dream.
Pa there, determinedly playing cards with some of the girls in the shade, sitting tightly cross-legged on a white, wide, high back chair, playing for big stakes, a fiercely determined expression on her face, never seen that before, she was always so soft, so unconcerned , so considerate. Maybe I had noticed a change in her a few days previously, but dismissed it as imagination. Having known her for a long time, she had never been anything but attentive towards me.
Never able to forget our first meeting during the April Water Festival.... had been on the motor bike cruising.. looking ..the usual thing.... There had been a big commotion outside the 'No Hands Bar' I stopped in the crowd , water and packets of flour being flung everywhere . Suddenly out of the melee she was running, laughing, being chased by two or three men. She simply jumped on the back of the bike, revved it and rushed away with her clinging quite unconcernedly to me , as if we had always known each other, head on my shoulder, arms clasped about my practically bare body.
Something had clicked shut inside my mind at that precise moment in time, as if I were suddenly complete, as if all my searching for whatever it was that had always eluded me, had finally been found. Such was her impact on my existence. A strange, unreal, sensation , all the wrongs of my life had suddenly been righted, that nothing, nothing else at all mattered, simply that this completely unknown young woman. was with me .
From that moment I had lived her, breathed her, never for a split second doubting that she also felt the same way regarding myself.
That meeting had occurred when it was “Come in Number Seven” my time up, almost immediately after that fateful day, quite devastated at the realization, trying to think of any way to stay on. Going through all the normal procedures, getting all the normal rejections at the Airline ticket office . Certainly I could stay on, only it would cost a arm and a leg. These people not being slow seizing on any such situation, the slightest opportunity to make the dollar. I simply could not match their terms. It meant going back to the real world. That last evening alone with her being one of the longest and most painful in my life.
We sat quietly in my white room at the V and M Terrace Hotel, the window looking onto the small garden, the Blue Cross on the hospital opposite, already flashing in the soft dusk of evening. Looked at her few pathetic things.. the sum total of her life spread out before her. the whole lot fitting into a small hold all. She would need money until I returned within the month, not only for herself but for her child and mother.. .also her fare up into the sticks in Laos. I tried to imagine what she described , in her broken, halting English . A tin roofed hut , bamboo walls, the lot standing on poles above the water complete with buffalo beneath. Everywhere infested, no doubt, with mosquitoes. Electricity at a price, a television she had managed to get for her small son. Water had to be carried. She told this story flat, without any emphasis, her voice soft, calm. I asked about the boy . A man , a man from Denmark had suggested a child, she had replied "Why Not?' never seeing him again. The usual story repeated over and over by every girl . A certain hope mixed with fatalism, a resignation to the inevitable.
It had taken two years and about ten trips before I started waking up to Pa .. the euphoria sliding slowly, silently, away , my visits not quite fitting in with her schedules I, becoming little more than part of her payroll ..someone to be tolerated with that aspect in mind ……………a feature of Thai existence
Dave, an accountant, quietly on the run for fiddling clients accounts, a very pleasant, talkative man, asked why I was putting up with 'The Treatment" " You should out her". Nodding towards Pa, who by now had been glaring at me almost with contempt after my trying to break up her card game. She was in for about 5000bhts. A months wages "straight" out there would be about 1000bhts. A twelve hour day for one pound Sterling
Started to feel as if small pieces of my brain were breaking away inside my head, becoming difficult to focus on anything , anything other the painful fact that Pa was giving me a very hard time, looking very attractive in her bikini, the glasses added something rather than detracted, reminding me of someone I used to know, rare to see a young, Thai woman with them, they kept slipping down her nose on the perspiration, she pushing them back with her so small, so beautifully manicured index finger.
The sun burnt down on the men somehow washed up on this tranquil shore, so far and so different from what was previously known to them, surrounded by sex, its inherent problems,. which could conveniently be dropped the moment they arose, by those astute enough….. a type of freedom now mostly unknown in Western Civilization . Evidently I was one of those who could not simply walk away, unable to look elsewhere, as if ordering a different meal at a restaurant.
Pa had a tight grip on my existence, knowing instinctively what was expected from a woman and knowing exactly how to give it..
Quite small, well built, all the right things in all the right places, her head reaching halfway up my chest. Long thick, completely straight, black hair reaching below her waist. I always insisted pleated in the traditional Thai way with three different colored ribbons. She moved distinctively, as a tigress.
Sat brooding, finding faults with her, real or imaginary, doing some arithmetic as to her running costs. The previous day simply having to buy her some glasses, her eyesight had become really bad when it came to reading, had noticed her squinting in the past but let it go. Glasses out there are not cheap, nothing is really cheap in Thailand, you pay one way or the other. Today part of her sulks was that I failed to come up with her stake money. Noticed she had not stopped hitting the Sinhga beer, probably the strongest in the world, made with Embalming fluid. She could down seven bottles a night, one would put most men out for the night
Finally the sun started to slope away from the vertical, moving into the trees throwing long patches of shade onto the hot concrete, Slightly cooler, the old men began lifting their bodies from the beds and deck chairs, the girls busy round them wiping their extended layers of fat with colored towels. Then drifting off in pairs hand in hand towards the bungalows . Pa and her three companions remained absorbed in the game which had now been going on all day, during that time she had acknowledged my existence enough to ask me for some money and to order a meal for her.
Looked at the pool, its exotic surroundings, every inch of it etched in my brain with a needle of steel, realizing that most of the few good things I had ever experienced in my existence had happened in, near, or by this particular spot.
The deterioration in my mental condition accelerated from that moment. Suddenly deciding to get up, walk into the hotel, get money from the safe, get on my motor bike and go round to the V&M Terrace Hotel and book in, a place where I was well known, having stayed there many times.
Felt agitated, guilty, nervous, attempting desperately to smile at all the cleaning girls who were finishing work for the day.. Gaily laughing at me, wanting to know where I had been , why I had not visited them, remarking the amount of weight I had lost since my previous trip. These ladies missed nothing, not the slightest detail, their lives absorbed in other people's. Amazingly they always seemed so cheerful, always smiling on their one pound sterling a day. A full twelve hours.
Pa had not bothered to look up from her cards at my departure. For some reason I did not want her to become aware of my movements, becoming obsessively secretive, imperative that I did not see her again, simply unable to face her not wanting me , hiding, my only solution, knowing that this was symptomatic of the illness eating into my head.
The receptionist at the V & M looked at me in a way that stuck in mind. Knew the woman quite well, yet she was looking into, rather than at me, as if she could see something I only becoming aware of . Gave me my old room on the ground floor with the small garden outside the window.
This, a mistake, Pa and I had spent long periods of time between the air conditioned, white, walls, the blue cross on the hospital opposite burning through night. A room intensely full of memories, but, too late, too late to move, little more strength left, it had been eaten away by the turmoil, stress, anguish, confusion in my brain.
Instinctively, knew that by now Pa would be starting to look. Waiting, back in the bungalow, its rickety, high one room. Its’ huge bed with the torn mattress, the fan gyrating slowly, endlessly, the lizards motionless, hanging on the beams, crickets and frogs starting their evening chorus.
She would be in the shower, water pouring, cascading. The long hair, down below her waist, clinging over her small firm breasts. Apparent, I would have to get back, collect my gear, face her, in spite of my misgivings, yet, I did not want to upset the situation, did not want any scene, she, just as fragile underneath all that professionalism, all that confidence.
Went down to the 'No Hands Bar' needed a drink something, anything, to throw off this deep depression that had gripped me so tightly. People looking at me, at my face, asking "Where ‘s Pa ?" we inseparable and "why don’t you get rid of her.. tell her to simply go away" Most of all they delighted in reminding me that she was “Queen of the Billionaires Bar", what this entailed, can only be left to the imagination.
I hardly cared what she was , or had been. She had always been everything I ever wanted, there were never any arguments, never spoke about the other side of her existence, or mine. When men who obviously knew her approached, she would ignore them. Only once, very late, at the Bamboo bar, did she suddenly get up and walk carefully amongst the crowd, finally sitting close to a man on a wicker sofa in the far corner of the darkened room… I had looked again …………and they were both gone.
Returned to the Palm Villa. Dark, the darkness had come suddenly, no long twilight , walked between the bungalows sitting in the thick tropical growth of trees and flowers, trying to get some control over myself and my feelings
Key in the door she lying naked, front down on the bed in the darkened room, pillow under her chest, head cupped in her hands, watching the box, the light flickering on her face, from the pornography . Turned her head towards me, a small question mark.. probably aware that my body was trembling, rolled to her side holding an arm out to me. …something I could no longer handle.. . more or less falling into the shower trying to control my brain which was badly fluctuating, realizing that it was now imperative for me to get back to the U.K. ... no longer capable of handling Pa or the whole situation . Many other men had also stumbled badly, disastrously in this situation ………the strange mystique of this dreamland ,so remote from reality.
The room in darkness other from reflected lights outside, she lay quite still on the bed.
Eight o’clock, knew, whatever happened, she would be wide awake and ready for the “off” at Midnight.
Swallowed a sleeping pill, gave one to her . Strangely she had never questioned what I gave her to take and there had been a few concoctions. She put the glass back on the sloping, broken, table next to the bed , my body uneasily next to hers.
"What's wrong Peter??” all her aggression gone.
I never answered. It was impossible express my feelings, how to explain myself
“Do you want sex?"
she persisted, rolling on to me, so incredibly soft in every respect in every conceivable way, the electricity passing from her made my every nerve end tingle.
Remained motionless, a cold perspiration running off my head into my eyes.
She waited, poised, her finger tips moving across my skin, my mouth became tight and dry, my body paralyzed with doubts, indecision’s and desire.
"Why don't you speak?"
Whispering, her breath cool and clear, her mouth rubbing my ear, so very gently, as if afraid the slightest discord would completely fracture the fragile situation, plunging us into a final nowhere
It seemed a very long time before she slid off my inertia, turning on her side away from me
Opened my eyes……the light on.
She, sitting at the small wooden dressing table .. watched the movement of her breasts in the mirror as the brush pulled down her long hair, the only make up she ever wore was a color round her eyes, tonight , a very pale green .
With one of my shirts on, a pair of shorts cut to her navel, pair of white, high heels, nothing else She, ready...captivating.. the business…..
Looked at my watch, one minute past midnight………. She precisely on time, moved, sitting on the edge of the bed, intent, intent on Peter.
"Your tired…go to sleep”
Her small hand over my eyes.
"I won't be long ......"
Her voice soft, tender, gentle, as if to sooth me back to oblivion.. At her best…the moment she set foot onto the pathway between the bungalows, I would be forgotten totally and completely , her only misgiving, that her charm may not work, that I may suddenly want to go with her. Her mind firmly fixed on the "Strip” and the "Marine Bar" in particular, to be free , hardly needed Peter there………..
Played my part, "Goodnight doll... don't drink too much and be careful"
Trying to sound as if about to drop off.
She poised hesitantly, so very beautiful, her face a perfect, small oval, a picture of complete innocence.
"Oh !” almost forgetting my the next move.
"Take some money off the side"
She brightened at this.
"and remember if I go out will leave the key under the plants beside the door"
Tried to make this sound casual.... whatever, not wanting her making a racket after staggering back at daylight, unable to get in, the place deserted. She did a half take, kissed me on the cheek, quickly picked up the necessary and was gone, silent, like a ghost.
We were never to see each other again.
Waited a long time in the absolute silence. All creatures great and small, had gone to sleep, even the lizards had finally locked themselves motionless on the high wooden beams, the dogs had ceased barking faintly in the distance, the hard, arrogant, incessant grunt of the German next door finally stopped, the moans of his so young companion died away. The only time he ever left her alone was during his sleep.
Almost one a.m. night poised, expectant, things starting to buzz on the “Strip”
By now Pa would have jumped on the knee of the first man she fancied in the huge, hot, reverberating, crowded room, regardless of whom he was with, arms round him, her warm firm body pressed tight, the voltage surging out from her. There could be no resistance.
Felt suddenly very sad, isolated, looked about the room I knew so well, the soft light from the bedside lamp throwing long shadows up the walls and onto the remains of what had been.
*******************************************************
There was more junk to pack than appeared possible, shoved it in the bags anyhow, a sense of urgency , no way did I want Pa to come strolling nonchalantly back having become bored with the scene down the road. She did have sane moments. I would have been mincemeat to her in such a conciliatory mood, spreading her strong self over me, smothering any resolution I may have left, astride, on top of my body, refusing to dismount until I was just a sweat soaked, wreck.
Finally, everything appeared to be together, all that remained was a last gesture towards Pa. The rickety dressing table, the two hair clips she had demanded In the "Day and Night" A brush, the full Bart wedding ring she had so ceremoniously bought me, I placed on top of photographs of us together.
Meticulously tidied the table up, could hear them saying "You didn’t leave her money!"
Put a few hundred dollars under the photographs, the watch, next to the ring, had liked that. Everyone had been in total disbelief of her buying a ring…for Peter…. such a large piece of gold for a Farang… almost without precedent, the rickety table, a shrine, if you like, to what had been.
There was a great deal of pressure. Underneath all this something was saying “You’re a miserable bastard" which is true "you know she doesn’t have a pot to piss in", which was also true.
These ladies, mostly have little to show for giving their best years to the Farang, almost everything going to their parents and their children. But I had run before, there had been other females, other faces, other places.
Simply survival… my survival. Most men quickly lose the initiative, the ability to run, too burdened with “what is” the hole they have all so unwittingly dug themselves so deeply into.
By the time I dragged myself out into soft, scented night, stars hanging on the rooftops, placed the key under the plants, struggled down to Soi.2, I, almost in a state of collapse.
The Taxi swirled to a stop in a cloud of dust beside me, threw my junk into the open back, fell in after it and was rushed unceremoniously away on my long journey back, back to deepest, darkest, Hackney and the gaunt hospital where they still possessed the records from my previous breakdown a decade ago.
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