4
‘Ouch!’
I sat up swiftly as I felt something hard dig me in the ribs. I looked up into the eyes of a Thai security guard, trying to shake off the deep sleep I’d been in. He hauled me from the floor, speaking fiercely into his radio at the same time.
‘Not stay here! Get out!’ he barked at me.
‘Okay, okay, I’m going.’ I bent down to pack my bedding into my rucksack. Another security guard, shorter and squatter than the first, arrived inside the cave to help out his mate and between the two of them, they manhandled me outside. I blinked in the light and saw the sun was just about to rise into a cloudless sky. They marched me along the beach, their hands clamped to my arms as though I was a dangerous criminal rather than a tourist who had simply taken shelter from the rain in a cave. The sand still felt damp beneath my feet, the only hint of last night’s spectacular downpour.
‘You don’t have to hold on to me,’ I said bad-temperedly. ‘I’m going, I really am.’
One of them let out a stream of aggressive-sounding Thai words that I couldn’t understand as we walked towards the path at the other end of the beach. I wondered if I was to be thrown into jail like in Bangkok Hilton, the Nicole Kidman TV series that had frightened me senseless. If the worst happened, I couldn’t even call Pa, who would have been over to Thailand in a shot to get me released.
‘Is that you again?’
I turned my head and saw the Werewolf lurking in the bushes at the back of the beach.
‘Yeah,’ I said, knowing my face was red with embarrassment.
‘Po, let her go,’ he ordered, walking towards us.
Immediately, the squat security guard released my arm, then the Werewolf talked in fast Thai to the taller guard, who reluctantly dropped my other arm.
‘Sorry, they’re very officious,’ he said in English, raising an eyebrow. He spoke to the two men again, then, his eyes sweeping along the beach, beckoned me to follow him. Both guards saluted him, looking really disappointed as they watched me stumble behind him towards the bushes.
‘How did you manage that?’ I asked. ‘I thought I was for the chop.’
‘I said you were a friend of mine. You’d better come in quickly.’
Then he took hold of my arm and dragged me through the foliage. Having had a few seconds’ reprieve, my heartbeat began to speed up again and I wondered if I was better off with the two security guards than following a man I didn’t know into a Thai jungle. I saw there was a high steel gate hidden amongst the greenery and watched as the Werewolf pressed some numbers on a keypad to the side of it. It opened smoothly and he ushered me beyond it. More trees followed, but then suddenly a vast and beautiful oasis of a garden came into view. To my right, I saw a large swimming pool, tiled in black and looking like something out of a design magazine. We walked through trees bedecked in a shower of golden blossoms, and onto a wide terrace full of wicker furniture with large, plump cushions being laid out on them by a maid in uniform.
‘Want some coffee? Juice?’ he asked me as we crossed the terrace.
‘Coffee would be great,’ I said, and he spoke in Thai to the maid as we passed her. We were approaching a number of white pavilions set around a courtyard, each topped by traditional Thai lanna-style V-shaped roofs. In the centre of the courtyard was a pond filled with pink flowers floating on the water. In the middle of it sat a black onyx Buddha. The whole scene reminded me of one of those exotic spas they were always advertising in magazines. I followed the Werewolf up some wooden steps to the side of one of the pavilions, and found myself on a shady roof terrace which gave the most magnificent view of Phra Nang Beach beyond it.
‘Wow,’ was all I could think of to say. ‘This is . . . awesome. I’ve been on this beach loads of times, and never even noticed this place was here.’
‘Good,’ he said as he indicated I should sit down on one of the enormous sofas. I eased my rucksack off my shoulders and did so tentatively, worried I might mark the immaculate silk covers. It was the most comfortable thing I’d sat on since I’d arrived in Thailand and I just wanted to lie back on the cushions and fall asleep.
‘You live here?’ I asked.
‘Yes, for now anyway. It’s not mine, it’s a friend’s place,’ he said as the maid arrived up the steps with a tray of coffee and a selection of pastries laid out in a little basket. ‘Help yourself.’
‘Thanks.’ I poured myself a cup of coffee, then added two peat-brown sugar lumps.
‘Can I ask why you were being escorted by the security guards from the beach?’
‘I was sheltering from the storm in the Cave of the Princess. I . . . must have fallen asleep while I was waiting for it to stop.’ Pride prevented me from telling him the truth.
‘It was quite some storm,’ he said. ‘I like it when nature takes over, shows you who’s boss.’
‘So.’ I cleared my throat. ‘What do you do here?’
‘Oh . . .’ He took a sip of his black coffee. ‘Not a lot. I’m just taking some time out, you know?’
‘Great place to do it.’
‘You?’
‘Same.’ I reached for one of the buttery croissants. The smell reminded me so much of Claudia’s breakfasts at Atlantis, I almost forgot where I was.
‘What did you do before?’
‘I was at art college in London. It didn’t work out, so I left.’
‘Right. I live in London too . . . or at least, I did. On the river in Battersea.’
I looked at him in shock, wondering whether this whole episode was some kind of surreal dream and I was actually still asleep behind the scarlet phallus.
‘I live there too! In Battersea View – the new apartments that have just been built near Albert Bridge.’
‘I know exactly where you mean. Well, hello, neighbour.’ The Werewolf gave me his first genuine smile as he high-fived me. It lit up his weird blue eyes so he no longer looked like a werewolf, but more like a very skinny Tarzan.
I poured myself another cup of coffee and sat further back on the sofa so that only my feet dangled over the edge. I wished I didn’t have my boots on, then I could curl them beneath me and try to look as elegant as the surroundings decreed.
‘What a coincidence . . .’ He shook his head. ‘Someone told me once that in any country on earth, there’s only six degrees of separation between us and someone we know.’
‘I don’t know you,’ I pointed out.
‘You don’t?’ He eyed me for a few seconds, his expression suddenly serious.
‘Nope, should I?’
‘Er, no, I just wondered if maybe we’d bumped into each other on Albert Bridge or something,’ he mumbled.
‘Maybe. I used to cross it every day to walk to college.’
‘I was on my bike.’
‘Then I wouldn’t have recognised you if you were all done up in Lycra and a helmet.’
‘True.’
We both drained our coffees in awkward silence.
‘Are you going back there soon? Like, after New Year or something?’ I asked him eventually.
The Werewolf’s face darkened. ‘I don’t know. Depends on what happens . . . I’m trying to live for today. You?’
‘Same, though I’m meant to be going on to Australia.’
‘Been there, done that. Mind you, I was working and it’s never the same. All you get to see is the inside of hotels and offices, and a load of expensive restaurants. Corporate hospitality, you know?’
I didn’t, but I nodded my head in agreement anyway.
‘I had thought about going there,’ he continued. ‘You know when you just want to get as far away as you can . . . ?’
‘I do,’ I said with feeling.
‘You don’t sound English, though. Is that a French accent I can hear?’
‘Yes. I was born . . . well, I don’t actually know where I was born ’cos I’m adopted, but I was brought up in Geneva.’
‘Another place I’ve visited and only seen the airport on my way to a ski trip. Do you ski? I mean, stupid question if you live in Switzerland.’
‘Yes. I love it, but I’m not so keen on the cold, you know?’
‘I do.’
There was another lull in the conversation, which, given the fact I’d already drunk two large cups of coffee, I couldn’t fill with another one.
‘How come you speak Thai?’ I managed after a bit.
‘Thai mother. I was brought up in Bangkok.’
‘Oh. Does she still live there?’
‘No, she died when I was twelve. She was . . . wonderful. I still miss her.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ I said quickly, before ploughing on. ‘How about your dad?’
‘Never met him,’ he replied abruptly. ‘What about you, have you met your birth parents?’
‘No.’ I had no idea how we’d wandered into such an intimate conversation in the space of twenty minutes. ‘Listen, I should be going. I’ve put you to enough trouble already.’ I heaved myself forwards until my feet touched the ground.
‘So, where are you staying now?’
‘Oh,’ I said airily, ‘some hotel on the beach, but, as you know, I prefer sleeping outside.’
‘I thought you said your rucksack had a room. Why have you got it with you?’
I immediately felt like a child who’d been caught hiding sweets under the bed. What did it matter if he knew?
‘Because there . . . was a mix-up with my room. I borrowed it and then the . . . person who lived in it fell out with his girlfriend and wanted it back. And everywhere else was full. That’s why I headed for the cave when it started to rain.’
‘Right.’ He studied me. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?’
‘I dunno,’ I said, looking at my feet like a five-year-old would. ‘I’m not . . . desperate or anything. I can take care of myself – there just wasn’t a room available, okay?’
‘No need to be so embarrassed, I understand completely.’
‘I just thought you might think I was a vagrant or something. And I’m not.’
‘I never thought that, promise. By the way, what’s all that yellow stuff in your hair?’
‘Christ!’ I ran my hand through my hair and found that the ends were matted together. ‘It’s mango. My mate Jack asked me to take care of the bar at the Railay Beach Hotel yesterday afternoon, and there was a run on fruit shakes.’
‘I see.’ He tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t manage it. ‘Well, could I at least offer you a shower? And beyond that, a bed for a few nights, until things have calmed down on the beach? The water’s piping hot,’ he added.
Now, that really tempted me. The thought of hot water and knowing I looked and smelt disgusting won out over pride. ‘Yes please.’
He led me back downstairs and we crossed the courtyard to another pavilion, on the right of the quadrangle. There was a key in the lock and he turned it, then handed it to me.
‘It’s all prepared. It always is. Take your time, there’s no rush.’
‘Thanks,’ I said and disappeared inside, locking the door firmly behind me.
‘Wow!’ I said out loud as I looked around. He wasn’t wrong about the room being ‘prepared’. I surveyed the super-king-size bed made up with big fluffy pillows and a soft duvet – all in white, of course. But clean white, that I just knew didn’t have any stains left over from other people. There was a big flat-screen TV behind shutters that you could close if you didn’t want to be reminded of the outside world, seriously tasteful Thai art, and when I touched the walls, I realised they were covered in silk. Dumping my rucksack on the teak-wood floor, I searched inside it for my shower gel, then padded into what I presumed was the bathroom, but turned out to be a walk-in wardrobe. Trying another door, I found myself in a room that had a power shower and a massive sunken bath set against a wall of glass, beyond which was a little garden full of bonsai trees and pretty flowering plants that Star would know the names of, but I didn’t. The whole thing was shielded by a high wall so that nobody could spy on you as you bathed.
I was sooo tempted to run a bath and sink into it, but I felt that would be taking advantage. So I turned on the shower and scrubbed every part of me until my skin was tingling. I needn’t have bothered searching for my shower gel, as there was an entire range of luxury body products from some posh eco brand sitting on a marble shelf.
After emerging from the shower – even though I wouldn’t want anyone to know it, as I was so anti those lotions and potions that women got conned into buying – I creamed my body to the max with everything on offer. Unwrapping the towel from my head, I shook out my hair and noticed how long it had grown. It was just touching my shoulders and fell around my face in ringlets.
Star had always gone on about how much better I looked with longer hair. Ma had called it my crowning glory, but at sixteen I’d had the lot cut off into a short crop because it was so much easier to maintain. If I was being honest, it had also been an act of rebellion and petulance. As if to show the world I didn’t care what I looked like.
I dragged my hair back from my face and held it on the top of my head. It actually made a ponytail for the first time in years, and I wished I had a hairband with which to tie it up.
I padded through to the bedroom and looked longingly at the big bed. After double-checking that the door was still locked, I donned my T-shirt and climbed up onto it. Just ten minutes, I told myself, as I lay my head on the downy white pillows . . .
* * *
I was woken abruptly by a loud banging. I sat up, having absolutely no idea where I was. It was pitch black and I searched blindly for a light. I heard something crash to the floor, and I rolled out of bed in a panic.
‘Are you okay?’
I followed the sound of the voice and felt for the door with my palms. My muddled brain finally registered where I was, and who was knocking.
‘I can’t find the keyhole, and it’s very dark in here . . .’ I said.
‘Just use your hands to feel for the key. It’s right there in front of you.’
The voice calmed me and I searched just below my middle, as that was usually where a door had a lock. My fingers felt for, then grabbed, the key and after a few attempts I managed to turn it, then reached for the handle.
‘It’s unlocked,’ I called, ‘but I still can’t open the door.’
‘Stand back and I’ll open it for you.’
The room was suddenly awash with light and I managed to breathe again as relief flooded through me.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said as he entered the room. ‘I’ll have to get someone to come and fix the handle. It’s just got stiff because it’s not been used for a while. You okay?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ I sat down on the bed, taking in deep gulps of air.
The Werewolf studied me silently for a while.
‘You’re afraid of the dark, aren’t you? That’s why you like sleeping outdoors.’
He was right, but I wasn’t going to admit it. ‘Course not. I just woke up and didn’t know where I was.’
‘Right. Sorry to frighten you, but it’s nearly seven o’clock in the evening. You’ve slept for almost twelve hours. Wow, you must have been tired.’
‘I was. Sorry.’
‘That’s okay. Are you hungry?’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘If you are, Tam’s making supper. You’re welcome to join me on the main terrace.’
‘Tam?’
‘The chef. It’ll be ready in about half an hour. See you then.’
He left the room and I swore loudly. A whole day gone! Which meant I’d almost certainly lost the booking at my new hotel when I hadn’t turned up at lunchtime to check in. To add to it, because I’d slept so long, I’d have to go through jet lag all over again, plus my weird werewolf host probably thought I was special needs or something.
Why was he being so nice to me? I wasn’t stupid enough to think there wasn’t an ulterior motive. After all, he was a man and I was a woman . . . at least to some people. But then, if that was what he wanted, it would mean he fancied me, which was beyond ridiculous.
Unless he was desperate and anybody would do.
I dressed in a kaftan I didn’t like because it was almost a dress, but it was all I had, given most of my clothes were still at the laundry. Once outside, I surreptitiously locked the door behind me and hid the key in the planter next to it, because my world was in that rucksack.
This place was probably even more beautiful at night than in the day. Lanterns hung from the low roofs, giving out a soft light, and the water around the onyx Buddha was lit from beneath. There was a fabulous scent of jasmine from the massive planters, and even better than that, I could smell food.
‘Over here!’
I saw an arm waving at me from the terrace in front of the main pavilion.
‘Hi,’ he said, indicating a chair.
‘Hi. Sorry I slept so long today.’
‘Never apologise for sleeping. I wish I could.’
I watched him sigh deeply, and then, as I really didn’t think I could carry on calling him the Werewolf, considering he’d been – so far anyway – kind to me, I asked him his name.
‘Didn’t I tell you the other day?’
‘No,’ I said firmly.
‘Oh . . . just call me Ace. What’s yours?’
‘CeCe.’
‘Right. A nickname, like mine?’
‘Yeah.’
‘What’s yours short for?’
‘Celaeno.’
‘That’s unusual.’
‘Yeah, my pa – the guy who adopted me – had this weird fixation with the Seven Sisters of the Pleiades. Like, the star cluster,’ I explained, as I usually had to.
‘Excuse me, sir, okay to serve now?’
The maid had appeared on the terrace, with a man wearing chef’s whites standing behind her.
‘Absolutely.’ Ace led me to the table. ‘What can I offer you to drink? Wine? Beer?’
‘Nothing, thanks. Just water’ll be fine.’
He poured us both a glass from the bottle on the table. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers. Thanks for saving me today.’
‘No problem. As if I don’t feel bad enough living in this place all by myself, there’s you sleeping on the beach.’
‘Up until yesterday, it was my choice, but that bed is just fantastic.’
‘As I said, you’re welcome to it for as long as you want. And before you refuse, I’m not just being kind, I’d actually appreciate the company. I’ve been alone here for nearly two months now.’
‘Why don’t you invite some of your mates from London to come over?’
‘That’s not an option. Right,’ he said, as a dish of sizzling king prawns was placed in the centre of the table. ‘Let’s tuck in.’
That dinner was one of the best I’d eaten for a long time – at least since Star had cooked me a roast lunch last November in London. I’d never learnt to cook myself because she was so great at it, and I’d almost forgotten what good food tasted like. Course after course made its way into my mouth – fragrant lemongrass soup, tender fried chicken wrapped in pandan leaves, and spicy fish cakes with nam jim sauce.
‘Oh my God, that was absolutely delicious. I like this restaurant, thanks so much for inviting me. I’ve got a food baby.’ I indicated my swollen stomach.
Ace grinned at my description. We hadn’t really chatted much over supper, probably because I’d been too busy stuffing my face. ‘So, has the food convinced you to stay?’ Ace took a sip of his water. ‘I mean, it’s not for long, is it? You said you’re leaving for Australia after the New Year.’
‘Yeah, I am.’ I finally gave in. ‘If you’re sure, it would be great.’
‘Good. Just one thing I’d ask: I know you’re friendly with the crowd on Railay Beach, but I’d really prefer it if you didn’t say you were staying here with me, or mention where the house is. I really value my privacy.’
His eyes told me everything his casual words hadn’t.
‘I won’t say a word, promise.’
‘Good. So, tell me about your painting. You must be really talented to have got a place in a London art college.’
‘Umm . . . I left a few weeks later, ’cos I realised I wasn’t. Or not in the way they wanted me to be anyway.’
‘You mean, they didn’t get you?’
‘You could say that.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘I couldn’t do anything right.’
‘So would you say you’re more “avant garde” than someone like Monet, for example?’
‘You could, but you’ve got to remember that Monet was avant garde in his day. It really wasn’t my art tutors’ fault, I just couldn’t learn what they wanted to teach me.’ I closed my mouth abruptly, wondering why I was telling him about all this. He was probably bored senseless. ‘What about you? What do you do?’
‘Oh, nothing as interesting. I’m just your average City bod. Dull stuff, you know?’
I didn’t, but I nodded as if I did. ‘So you’re taking a . . .’ – I searched for the word – ‘sabbatical?’
‘Yeah, something like that. Now,’ he said, stifling a yawn, ‘can I get you anything else?’
‘No thanks, I’m good.’
‘The staff will come and clear away but I need to try and sleep now. As you know, I’m up before dawn. And by the way, the security guards know you’re staying with me, and the key code for the gate from the beach side is 7777.’ He gave me a small smile. ‘Night, CeCe.’
‘Night.’
As he left, I saw the staff hovering, probably ready for their beds too and wanting to be finished for the day. I decided that, while I was under Ace’s protection, I’d chance a wander onto Phra Nang. Walking down the path, I pressed the red button on the pad at the side of the gate. It slid back and I was released onto the deserted beach.
‘Sawadee krap!
I jumped as I looked to my left and saw Po, the squat security guard who had manhandled me along the beach at six o’clock this morning. He stood up from his stool, placed discreetly amongst the foliage that flanked the gate, and saluted me with a false smile.
‘Sawadee ka,’ I said, doing a wai with my hands in the traditional Thai greeting.
The tinny noise of Thai pop music blared from a small radio next to his stool, and as I looked at his uneven, yellowing teeth, I saw him – literally – from the other side of the fence, and wondered how many children he had to feed, and how boring and lonely his job was. Except, I thought, as I walked through the foliage, part of me envied him having all this to himself. He had beauty and total peace every night. As I walked onto the beach, feeling a freedom that sadly only privilege could buy in this particular neck of the woods, I imagined how one day I would breathe in the world at its amazing best, then paint it onto canvas for everyone to see.
I made my way to the sea’s edge and dipped my toes in the perfect body-temperature water. I looked up at the sky, chock-full of stars tonight, and wished I had the vocabulary to put into words the things I thought. For I felt things that I couldn’t explain, except through the paintings I made or, recently, the installation I’d become obsessed with.
It hadn’t been right, of course – it had tried to say too much about too many things – but I’d loved working in my riverside studio. And with Star in the kitchen as she made us supper, I’d felt content.
‘Stop it, Cee!’ I told myself firmly. I wasn’t going to start looking back again. Star had made her move and I was out of her hair, leading my own life. Or at least, trying to.
Then I wondered if Star had ever thought of herself as a burden to me. I didn’t want to start criticising her because I loved her, but maybe she’d forgotten the way she’d needed me when she was small and didn’t like speaking. She’d also been bad at making decisions and saying what she felt, especially as we’d been trapped in the middle of a bunch of strong-willed sisters. I wasn’t trying to make her take the blame or anything, but there were always two sides to a story and maybe she’d forgotten mine.
Surprisingly, though, it seemed I’d found myself a new friend. I wondered what his story was, why he was really here; why he only went out at sunrise or after dark and wouldn’t invite any friends to stay, despite admitting he was lonely . . .
I walked back slowly across the sand towards the hidden palace in the trees. Even though Po the security guard made to tap in the numbers on the pad, I got there first and pressed ‘7777’ firmly onto the keys so he knew that I knew the code.
Having retrieved the key from the planter, I opened the door to my room to find someone had been there before me. The bed was made up with fresh sheets, and the clothes I had discarded earlier were folded neatly on a chair. The invisible cleaning fairy had also left a new set of fluffy towels, and after I’d washed the sand off my feet, I clambered into bed.
The problem was, I mused, that I’d always lived between two worlds. I could happily bunk down on the beach, but equally, I was comfortable in a room like this. And despite all my protests that I could survive with very little, tonight I didn’t know which option I preferred.