Bar Girl (19 page)

The girls smiled. Yes, they were up for it. Their bar was bigger, newer and had more to offer. Plus, they had Siswan with them. Yes! Damn right they were up for it.

‘Okay, Apple. Give us a month to get warmed up and then we’ll compare total turnover for the second. The winners get a free makeover and hairdo, okay?’ Siswan said.

‘Right you are, Miss Siswan. I could do with a visit to a spa!’ Apple laughed. ‘I’ll let the girls know.’

Siswan looked at her with a slightly surprised expression. She very quickly concealed it with a smile.

‘Well, girls. You know what’s at stake. Lets go and open up, shall we?’

The girls almost ran back to Swan’s Bar. They were going to work harder than they had ever worked before. Just before Siswan followed them, she turned to Apple.

‘Well done. You played that well,’ she smiled. ‘I didn’t expect you to tell them it included a spa visit though.’

‘You did tell me to make it sound real, Miss Siswan.’ Apple laughed. ‘And anyway, if we win, I fancy a day at a spa. Either way, you’ll be paying.’

‘Yes, but we agreed that the Swan would win.’ Siswan looked at her protégé.

‘Oh, did we? I don’t remember that. Oops, sorry.’ Apple smiled, unconvincingly.

So, Siswan thought to herself, a mutiny in the ranks. Right, if that’s the way you want it, that’s the way you’ll get it, my girl.

‘Fair enough, Apple.’ She laughed. ‘And, as a side bet, a new outfit for you or me as the winner? Paid for by the loser?’

‘You’re on!’ Apple said, and held out her hand to accept the bet.

That evening went well enough. Siswan had a month to get the girls prepared before the real challenge began. She reckoned she would be able to do it. They were young, eager and ready to give it their all.

When her phone rang she expected it to be Apple backing down. Maybe a new outfit had been a little too much for her to expect. It wasn’t Apple though. It was Ped.

‘I bought the phone,’ her cousin said, as soon as Siswan answered.

‘It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?’ Siswan laughed at her cousin’s excitement. She hadn’t changed much by the sound of it.

‘I’m fine. How are you? I got a job!’

The excitement in Ped’s voice reminded Siswan of her childhood. Reminded her of the times she and her cousin had played together, talked together. Before her mind started remembering other things, she tried to shut the thoughts down.

‘What job?’ she asked. ‘Did you finish school?’

‘Yes, I finished high school and I got a job in the local market. It doesn’t pay much but it’s good fun,’ Ped told her.

The two girls talked for several minutes about how Ped was, how Siswan was, what they had both been doing. What they were doing now. Siswan didn’t tell her too much. Just that she was working as a cashier in a bar. Earning enough to send money home.

‘How are my parents?’ Siswan asked.

‘Your mother is better, Siswan. She has started going to the temple again. Last week she even spent a few hours working with me,’ Ped told her.

Siswan felt a sudden pang of loss, of regret, that she wasn’t there to see her mother getting better. She would have liked to visit the temple with her. She recalled their last conversation.

‘And my father?’ she asked.

‘He isn’t well, Siswan. Not well at all. I’m not sure you would even recognise him now.’

Siswan didn’t feel anything when Ped spoke. No pang of loss or regret. Nothing. Her only thought was why he was taking so long to die.

‘What about Bak, Ped?’ she asked. ‘Have you seen him?’

‘No. He left the village a few years ago. No one has seen him since.’ Her cousin’s voice betrayed the fact that she didn’t care.

‘Did he tell you where he was going?’ She didn’t know why she asked.

‘No. He came around one day. Started threatening me to give him some money. He was drunk. My father told him to leave. That was the last we saw of him,’ Ped replied.

‘Okay. I’ll send you some more money soon. Thank you, Ped. I’m glad I had you to turn to,’ Siswan told her.

‘You take care of yourself, Siswan. I hope to see you soon.’

‘That would be lovely, Ped. I’ll call you.’

When Siswan hung up she had to sit down. Her head felt light. She felt a little dizzy. She was breathing heavily. That was the first time in five years that she had actually spoken to anyone from her village. Five years since she last spoke to Ped. Years since she had mentioned Bak’s name.

Memories came flooding into her mind. Memories she didn’t want. She had tried so hard to forget everything but now they returned and threatened to engulf her. She could never forget. She had hardened herself against feeling sorry for herself. Kept herself busy all the time so that she wouldn’t be able to wallow in her own self pity.

She had managed very well for the last five years. Managed to avoid the memories that lurked in her mind. Managed to block most of them out. Every time she faltered, every time the past tried to make itself known, she had managed to clear her mind through hard work. By keeping herself busy, her mind occupied.

Now the thoughts of what Bak had done to her, what he had forced her to do in the cane fields, came charging towards the front of her mind. A huge wave of emotion swept over her. A wave so big it seemed she would never be able to overcome it. It threatened to engulf her.

She sat there, hoping for an end to the thoughts, fighting to overcome the feelings of remorse. Trying to cling to the present. The present that she had made for herself. She had chosen her own destiny. The long road had led her here. To this now. This moment. She had overcome every obstacle in her path but she hadn’t expected this.

The telephone had seemed such a good idea. So easy. So much simpler than writing letters and trusting to the post. But she hadn’t expected this reaction. Ped’s voice, just as she remembered it, opened up doors in her mind that she thought she had locked forever. Now she realised, realised for the first time, the past was always there. She could never run away from it. It was a part of her. Made her what she was. Where would she be now, if it hadn’t been for her past? She had to accept these feelings. To learn from them. Allow them to sweep through her mind. There was no point in trying to block them out. That would be like refusing the use of her arms, or legs. The thoughts were a part of who she was, a part of her very being.

Her breathing slowed. The dizziness receded.

That was how to deal with the memories. Allow them their freedom. Face them as they played out the past. Let them come, let them run through her mind. And then, when she accepted them for what they were, learned from them, allowed them to show her everything they contained, she could forget them. Like a movie at a cinema. She had to watch it all before she could forget it and move on.

Sitting herself down against the trunk of a coconut palm, Siswan continued to run her thoughts through her mind. So far she hadn’t done so well with her life. She was only thirteen but knew she looked older. Maybe she could get away with seventeen. Perhaps even eighteen. Her body was changing rapidly. Forming curves in places that had, up until a few months before, been relatively flat.

She guessed that it would be about this time that Bak would have sold her virginity to the highest bidder. She realised, with some horror, that she had been wondering how much he would have made. She had to shut those thoughts out of her mind. It was no good thinking about the past. She was here now. In this place and time. Nothing lay behind her. Only the future was worth thinking about. She made a silent promise to the memory of Sood that she would fulfil what she was contemplating. All she needed was help with the first step. The first step that would start her off in the direction of her goal.

She watched as the farangs strolled along the beach, lay in the sunshine on the plastic sun beds, roared around the ocean on hired jet skis or, like her, just sat in the shade to watch the day go by.

Wherever she looked they were there. Farangs. Visitors to her country. She wondered why they came. They didn’t look that happy. Their faces seldom smiled as they tried to ignore the local traders plying the beach. The ones that did smile, did speak, were soon inundated with traders, all trying to make money from a farang who was buying.

Siswan watched two of them who were sat on sun beds just in front of her. A man and a woman. The man wore a small pair of shorts, the woman, a very small pink bikini. How could they sit there showing off so much of their bodies to the world? Didn’t they have any sense of shame?

It would be unheard of to have locals dress the same way. A woman was expected to stay respectably covered. Shorts and a tee shirt were okay, but not what amounted to a pair of panties and a bra! Even the local men wore long shorts down to their knees.

There were very few locals on the beach. Other than the beach boys, who worked the jet skis and speedboats, there were a few who took care of the sun beds. A few who fetched and carried for the farangs whenever they called out for a cool drink.

Of course the local traders, carting their wares around in cooler buckets, or shoulder bags, toured up and down the beach calling to each and every farang they came across. But other than people working, there were no locals lying in the sun. None who were there simply to enjoy the beach. All the locals worked. Making money.

Those that worked in the sun covered themselves from head to foot. Only the beach boys worked with their shirts off. It seemed as though the local women were afraid to expose any part of themselves to the glare of the sun. Afraid that their skin would darken.

Siswan sat and watched the world go by on the beach in front of her. She began to realise just how much she didn’t know. Not only about the farang but also about her own people. She decided that it was time to correct that lack of knowledge. If she was going to keep her promise to Sood, she was going to have to learn an awful lot.

She watched everything. Watched the expressions of the farangs. Noted the sound of their voices. The looks on their faces. She watched them when they went swimming. Watched as they drank, ate, smoked. Everything.

No one noticed the local girl sat in the shade of the big palm tree. No one noticed how she looked and learned. No one noticed her, but she noticed them. She watched them, farangs and locals, and she learned.

When early evening came Siswan decided that, for her first day, she had learned a lot. She had overheard enough conversations to discover that the locals hated the strong sun. They certainly didn’t want their skin to go black. It was a bad thing. They envied the white skins of the farangs and couldn’t understand why the visitors wanted their skin to be brown.

She learned that some of the farangs grew impatient with all the traders calling out to them. Some even pretended to be asleep behind their dark sunglasses to try and avoid the constant flow of locals selling food, drinks and goods they thought the farangs might buy.

It seemed, to Siswan, that the farangs didn’t like the pushy traders. The ones that stood in front of them and continued showing their goods long after the farangs had shaken their heads in refusal.

Siswan learned that it was the traders that didn’t push too hard, who didn’t infringe upon the visitors, the ones who were polite and smiled as they passed, who sold the most. She learned a lot that day. A lot about the farang and a lot about her own people. The things she had seen fascinated her. She wanted to know more. A lot more.

As she collected her thoughts and prepared to walk back to the workhouse, she saw an old local woman struggling to collect the big sun beds from the beach in front of her. Most of the farangs were busy packing up their stuff to leave the beach and the old woman collected the beds as they became vacant.

Siswan wandered down to help. The old woman looked at her as she bent to pick up the other end of the bed the old woman was half dragging through the sand but said nothing.

Siswan helped her back up the beach with all the remaining sun beds and then helped her to pile them, one on top of the other. Finally, when all the beds were piled and all the foam mattresses stored against the pile, the old woman spoke to her.

‘All day you’ve been watching,’ she said.

‘Yes. Most of it,’ Siswan replied.

She made to move away. To walk back up through the palms to the road and the workhouse.

‘Want a drink?’ the old woman asked, lifting the lid of the big cooler box beside her.