‘I’ve got a book conference to attend.’
I have no intention of attending the book conference. But I don’t want these corrupt bastard police to know that.
‘Safer if you cancel that, Alex. You’ve achieved a lot with the broadcast. It is best to fly home. Jonathan has just been released. I’m sure once you have made arrangements to go home, everyone else will be freed as well. It’s the best thing to do Alex.’
‘A very wise decision,’ agrees the police officer with a smirk that I fight hard not to wipe off his face. ‘I suggest you take Mr Samnang with you before I arrest him. Consider this my favour.’
‘If you think I am leaving the country while you have…’
‘We’re aware that your fiancée has been detained. I understand there is some circumstantial evidence of drug trafficking…’
I bang my hand down onto the table,
my self-control evaporating.
‘You have no evidence, circumstantial or otherwise, damn you. And you know it. This is some kind of set-up.’
Samnang leans across to me.
‘Don’t push them, Alex, it really…’ he whispers.
‘I’ll push them as far as I damn well please,’ I say fiercely but I know he is right.
Samnang bites his lip and I put my hand on his shoulder.
‘I’m sorry. I’m getting a bit irritated with it all.’
Irritated is the understatement of the year. I’ve had enough of all of it now. What was that idiot Philippe thinking of, buying drugs here? It gave them just the excuse they needed to arrest everyone.
‘You know this is a set-up Samnang. They can’t touch me after that broadcast so they’ve gone for the next best thing.’
‘Philippe has been deported. I’m sure that is what will happen to Penelope and the others,’ Samnang tries to assure me. ‘It’s just a matter of time.’
‘Why don’t you take the advice being given, Mr Bryant, and get on the next flight home? I’m sure your friends and fiancée will soon follow. Of course, while you are still here, it will
just delay things.’
What the hell? He’s damn well threatening me. I fight an overwhelming urge to punch the head of police into tomorrow. I lean across the table and grab his shirt collar.
‘Alex, no,’ shouts Samnang.
‘Are you threatening me, you bastard?’ I bark.
Samnang
pulls me off. I watch angrily as the police officer brushes down his shirt and rearranges his collar.
‘Let’s just say your presence here is not helping your friends. Hopefully, they will learn a little lesson about buying drugs in Cambodia.’
‘They didn’t buy drugs here, you nasty little man and you know that. You’ve already deported the one that did. If you’re trying to manipulate me to leave the country…’
‘Now, why do you imagine that we would want you out of the country?’
I bang my fist angrily on the table
and pick up my bag.
‘Damn you,’ I snap and follow Samnang from the room.
‘I’ll book you on the next flight out,’ he says, calling over a tuk-tuk.
I climb in reluctantly.
‘We
will
get them released as soon as you’re airborne. I’ll let you know.’
‘You’d better, and if they
don’t release them I’ll be straight back.’
I grit my teeth and debate whether to text Libby but decide there is not much point. She has chosen that idiot,
and there is no way I am going to make a fool of myself over a woman. What on earth she sees in that moron is beyond me. If that’s what she wants for her future, so be it. Women, I’ll never understand them in a million years. And
Libby is more changeable than the weather. I text Penny and hope she has her phone. What will Libby think when she hears I have flown home without even trying to help? She will be judge and jury and decide I am an unfeeling bastard, if she doesn’t already think that. It seems she doesn’t have a good word for me. If she wants to spend the rest of her life with that idiot, that’s up to her. I’m not going to stop her.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jamie is a little delirious. He is telling us how we can survive by eating the cockroaches.
‘Don’t be bloody stupid, the things are poisonous,’ says Toby.
‘According to you everything is sodding poisonous,’ snaps Issy.
‘Better to eat the cockroaches than die of starvation,’ responds Jamie, in a weird calm voice.
‘But we won’t starve, stop frightening us,’ cries Penelope.
‘You don’t believe they will keep bringing us food do you? Oh, no,’ says Jamie. ‘Starvation is the way they do it. That way we may well slaughter each other, you see. You hear about cannibalism all the time in flea-infested prisons like these.’
‘Shut the fuck up,’ screams Issy. ‘You’re making me feel ill.’
‘Don’t worry, I wouldn’t eat you if you were the last bugger here, not even if they offered you up covered in tomato ketchup,’ scoffs Toby.
‘You will, when you’re desperate…’ Jamie laughs evilly.
‘Jamie, do shut up, there is no way we are going to eat each other. Christ almighty,’ I say, horrified.
I hear
Toby blow me a kiss.
‘Maybe not in here, but when we get home, huh baby.’
‘Now I do feel ill,’ groans Issy.
At that moment the guard unlocks each of our cells and
Jonathan strolls into the corridor. We all stare silently at him for a few seconds and I wonder if he is a mirage, if one can see mirages other than in the desert, of course. Issy all but faints at the sight of him and I have to admit to coming quite close to that myself. We have been locked up for hours. The heat is unbearable and our tempers frayed. Even Toby has succumbed to drinking the water. Mother has stated she will never ever travel abroad again and Penelope is going to sue everyone and everything in sight.
Snograss tumbles in behind Jonathan, swaying unsteadily as he does so.
‘Everyone, it seems you have been reprieved. Old Johnnie is here to get you out,’ he says, gleefully rubbing his hands together.
‘It’s Jonathan, actually, not Johnnie,’ says Jonathan quietly.
‘Yes, yes, quite,’ replies Snograss.
Issy is frantically fiddling with her hair. Penelope bursts into tears which, for the first time ever, appear to be real ones.
‘Oh, thank God, thank God,’ she repeats before looking anxiously behind Snograss.
‘Isn’t Alex with you?’
I hold my breath. I half want him to be here while the other half doesn’t. If he sees me now, that really will be the finish. I can’t imagine how awful I must look. My dress, now dry, is creased to buggery. My feet are red and dirty and I don’t even want to think what the rash looks like on my face.
‘Alex is on a flight home…’
‘Bloody typical, what a coward,’ bellows Toby.
‘There is a good reason,’ continues Jonathan.
‘Yeah, he was bloody scared, that’s the reason.’
Issy stumbles from her cell and straight into Jonathan’s arms which he opens in readiness. I feel deep envy.
‘He has texted you, Penelope.’
Her face lights up while mine must have visibly dropped.
‘They took our phones,’ moans Penelope.
‘Ah, yes, let me get that organised,’ trills Snograss.
Penelope shoves her way past me and out of the cell.
‘I want to make an official complaint about all this.’ She flaps her hand at the guard.
‘I think we all do, am I agreed?’ echoes Toby. We all ignore him.
Snograss hands me my phone and I hurriedly check my text messages. There isn’t one from Alex. I attempt not to let my disappointment show. Penelope jumps on me instantly.
‘You were surely not expecting a text from Alex were you? I mean…’
‘Of course not,’ I snap back
and walk hurriedly from the room. I almost collapse as the air conditioning from the outer room hits me. I fall onto a bench as my legs give way. I hadn’t realised how traumatic the whole experience had been. Toby
joins me and wraps his jacket around me.
‘Good job I brought this wasn’t it?’ he says kindly.
His kindness makes me want to cry. How could Alex just ignore me like this? Didn’t our kisses mean anything to him? I know I never imagined his feelings for me. Surely he can’t just switch them off. Or had he always felt more for Penelope and was just having some fun with me? Penelope waltzes past with Snograss hurrying behind.
‘Get the press on the phone,’ she yells over her shoulder.
‘If you would just give me five minutes…’ he stutters while rushing to keep up.
‘You’re lucky I’m giving you the time of day,’ she snaps, bursting out of the building into the cool night air.
Snograss plonks his hat onto his head and
follows her.
‘What a prima donna,’ mumbles mother as she stumbles into the air-conditioned room. I make space for her on the bench.
Toby pulls me closer and wraps his jacket even tighter.
‘How are you feeling?’ he asks softly while gazing at mother. Don’t tell me he is trying to make a good impression.
‘I imagine she is feeling sick to the stomach,’ retorts Issy.
‘God, I feel weird,’ she says leaning against Jonathan.
She winks
at me.
Well, this is just great isn’t it? I left home to escape my mad parents and my atrocious love life, only to have the lot of them follow me to Cambodia. I’m about to fly home and everyone’s life is sorted except mine. Toby has decided he does love me and now wants to marry me. Issy has found her Mr Right and in the most unusual circumstances just as Madam Zigana had predicted. Mother is having her adventure even if it isn’t in Kilimanjaro and as for Jamie...
‘Ooh, I have a text from Philippe,’ he cries.
Yes, well that is about right.
‘He’s really sorry. He had no idea buying a few ounces of pot would cause so much hassle.’
‘No, of course not, what the fuck idea did he have?’ scoffs Toby. ‘As soon as we’re married Libby I will
expect you to stop working for that wanker,’ Toby instructs, pointing to Jamie.
Penelope wafts back in from outside and gives us
a filthy look.
‘There is absolutely nothing out there. How are we supposed to get back?’
‘I’ve arranged for transport,’ smiles Jonathan. ‘It should be here any minute.’
She storms out again.
‘Come on Libs, let’s go,’ says Toby, taking my hand.
I pull it away sharply.
‘What’s the matter, baby?’ he asks.
Can you believe this? I mean, can you believe me, in fact? This guy calls himself ‘my boyfriend’ and then boldly puts it about with another woman. He then dumps her, at least I presume he has dumped her, to follow me to Cambodia. I’m not even sure he followed me or whether he got coerced into coming because everyone else came. Does this sound like a man I really need in my life? Does this even sound like me? I’m not normally so hard on people. This impassive perspective
could have something to do with the fact that I am dying for a pee, have been locked up in a cell without any air conditioning for hours and had to consider eating my mother to survive. I have also discovered that Alex Bryant, a man I really do want in my life, has no interest in me whatsoever. I also think I may be having another period. Only I could start a period whilst incarcerated in a Cambodian prison. If they are not big on toilet paper I don’t
imagine they will have a Tampax machine in the loo. I stand up.
‘I need the loo desperately,’ I whisper to Issy. ‘I’ve got the curse I think.’
Mother groans.
‘Did you say you had the red rose?’
‘Who gave her a red rose?’ asks Toby angrily.
‘I’m not due for two weeks,’ I groan as the cramps overwhelm me.
‘It’s probably wind then,’ says mother knowingly.
‘The anxiety and everything,’ agrees Issy.
‘More likely the fucking water, although I still don’t understand what a rose has got to do with anything,’ contributes Toby.
‘You were a windy child,’ continues mother, oblivious to my black looks. ‘But that probably had a lot to do with the way you went at my breast. My nipples…’
‘Mother,’ I snap.
Someone kill me, kill me now.
‘You need a loo?’ says my father.
I nod and frantically look around. Jonathan points to a door and I fly through it to find myself in a tiny cubicle with a steep step. At the top of the step is a bowl. This is the toilet. I clasp my cramping stomach and turn to bolt the door, except there isn’t a bolt. I can hear men’s voices and quickly re-contract the muscles I had just released. Now what am I supposed to do? I clamber up onto the loo and practice sitting
while holding the door closed with my foot. Great, I can reach. Christ, how is a woman supposed to remove her knickers, pee and insert a tampon while she has one leg up supporting the loo door? I drop my foot and hold the door with one hand while I struggle to remove my panties with the other. A pee should never have to be this difficult. Finally, seated comfortably on the loo, if you can call having one leg cocked against the door as ‘comfortable’, I finally relax my muscles and sigh with relief. If a woman can cope with this, a woman can cope with anything. I am never going to complain about public loos again. In fact, I am never going to complain again, period, if you excuse the pun. In fact, from this point onwards I am only going to do in life what I want to do. So, that was the moment, right then, right there, sitting on a Cambodian loo, that I decided I was not going to settle for anything less than the best in future. It is amazing what positive power a public loo can have on you when suffering with extreme wind. There is a light tapping on the door and my foot slips dangerously.
‘Hold on,’ I shout nearly falling off the bowl in my haste to re-establish the foot.
‘Darling, it is I, your mother.’
Good heavens, why is she speaking in her posh telephone voice?
‘I’ll be out in two ticks.’
‘Something has happened?’
I remove my foot and quickly throw my hand forward. What does she mean,
something has happened
? I’ve only been gone five minutes.