Bar Girl (17 page)

She walked past, careful not to disturb them. Could she do that with Mirak? With any man? She didn’t think so. Couldn’t see herself being that emotional with another human being.

At the far end of the beach she walked back up to the road, wiped the sand from her feet, and replaced her sandals. Okay, she thought to herself, let’s get this over with. She walked back along the road. The same route she had walked so many times before.

When she arrived at the café, Mirak was already there. He sat at an outside table, a cup of coffee in front of him. He was looking the other way when she approached. Expecting her to come from the other direction. The direction of the bar. She took a few seconds to look at him.

He had the light brown skin of all the local men. A touch darker perhaps, unlike her own. Dark hair, cut short. He wasn’t fat but he wasn’t skinny either. Well built. Maybe a little swarthy looking. He wore a light green polo shirt and a pair of tan, chino styled trousers. A pair of soft leather, light brown, deck shoes complimented his outfit. He didn’t wear any jewellery as far as Siswan could tell and she was pleased about that. So many men seemed to like wearing chunky gold rings or bracelets these days. She didn’t like the fashion. It made a statement she didn’t care about.

Mirak did wear a watch though. Gold rim, brown leather strap. It looked old. Slightly out of place on his young wrist. Like an old man’s watch. All in all he looked good. Smart but casual. His dress imitated his manner. Quietly confident. Nothing flash. She approached the table.

‘Am I late?’ she said, looking at the half empty cup of coffee.

Mirak stood. Smiled warmly. Even though she had surprised him, he wasn’t caught totally off guard.

‘No. Not at all,’ he said, gesturing to the seat opposite him. ‘I was a little early.’

She sat down facing him. Put her handbag on the table. She wasn’t sure why she was there. Didn’t understand her feelings towards this man.

‘Did you manage to get enough sleep?’ he asked, as he signalled for the waitress to attend.

‘Yes. Enough for me, anyway. I don’t sleep that much,’ she answered.

‘What would you like?’ he asked, when the waitress came to their table.

‘A glass of water, please. With some ice and lemon.’

Mirak ordered the water and another coffee for himself. He turned in his chair slightly. Pointed himself more towards Siswan. He leant back in his seat. Casual.

‘It’s a lovely day,’ he said.

‘Yes. Quite lovely,’ she answered.

There was a moment or two of silence. Neither of them could think of anything to say. The waitress bought their drinks. Siswan knew she should say something. Help him out a little.

The fact was that she was out of her element here. She didn’t feel in control. Not like in the bar. In the bar she had a goal. A reason to chat, to flirt, to smile and make the customers feel relaxed. Here she didn’t know what to say or do. This was real. The bar was all pretence.

‘How long have you lived here, Siswan?’ Mirak asked, finally.

‘About five years now,’ she answered. ‘And you?’

‘I’ve only been here for a year. I was posted here when I made sergeant.’

‘Where were you before?’

‘Oh. Up in the north. A small town. No farangs there to deal with,’ he said and smiled.

‘Do you like the farangs?’ she asked.

‘Yes. Most of them. They behave differently than us, but I guess I like them,’ he told her.

‘They certainly are different,’ she said.

‘I take it you like them, then?’ he asked.

‘Yes. I like the way they talk about things. Real things. Real feelings. They show their emotions so easily. Most of us tend to bottle things up.’

‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘Mind you, they do have a lot more problems than we do.’

‘How so?’ she asked, interested.

‘Well. Their concept of love, for one thing. I mean, we all know what goes on here, right? Girls for sale, that sort of thing. But when a farang buys a girl he expects so much more than just a night of sex. He really wants the girl to like him.’

Siswan nodded her agreement. She’d seen the same thing many times. The male tourists certainly did expect something more than just sex. The girls had some interesting stories to tell.

‘You’d be amazed at some of the things we get called out for,’ Mirak continued. ‘Farangs who take their money back if the girl doesn’t show him enough affection. Men who get angry when they find out the girl they bought has a boyfriend or husband. All sorts of problems that the farang finds hard to deal with.’ He paused for a moment. ‘They just don’t want to accept that all the girls want is their money. They seem to think there should be some kind of emotional feeling attached to the sex.’

‘What about you, Mirak? Do you think sex is all there is?’ She couldn’t help asking.

‘Of course not. But there is a big difference between falling in love with someone and buying someone for a night,’ he said.

‘That’s true. Buying someone is so much simpler, don’t you think?’ She sipped her water as she looked at him.

‘I wouldn’t know, Siswan,’ he said.

‘You’ve never been in love?’ she asked.

‘I’ve never bought a girl,’ he answered, with a smile.

She didn’t know whether to believe him or not. Most of the local men she knew were always buying girls. The girls who couldn’t get a farang. They were cheap and the local men didn’t care about such mundane things as emotion. All they wanted, all they expected, was sex. Sex for money. The cheaper the better. She didn’t think Mirak would be interested in that. He didn’t look the type. Maybe he was telling the truth.

‘That’s an interesting watch, Mirak,’ she said, changing the subject completely.

He brought his wrist up. Looked at the watch, turned his arm to show the strap. Held his arm out towards her.

‘It was my father’s,’ he said.

‘I thought it looked old,’ she said, as she looked closely at the faded face and slightly marked gold case.

‘It was his father’s before him,’ Mirak went on. ‘I suppose it’s like a family heirloom, in a way. Passed down from father to son.’

‘When did your father give it to you?’ she asked.

‘Just before he died,’ he answered, pulling his arm back.

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’ Siswan looked quickly into his face to see if she had offended him.

‘That’s okay,’ he told her, with a smile. ‘He died when I was quite young. A tumour, apparently. I didn’t know him all that well.’

‘Even so. It was wrong of me to pry.’ Siswan was pleased he wasn’t offended.

She wasn’t too sure why she was concerned. What did it matter what he thought? She felt confused. Her head was telling her one thing but her heart seemed to be telling her something completely different. This was no good. She would have to get away. Give herself time to think. To examine her feelings. Mirak reached across the small table and placed his hand on hers.

‘Actually, Siswan. I would like it if you wanted to know more about me,’ he said.

She slowly removed her hand from under his. His touch had been soft. Gentle. A shiver had wandered up her arm. Not an unpleasant feeling.

‘I have to go, now. I’m sorry,’ she said, rising from her chair.

‘I’m sorry. Did I offend you?’ He stood.

‘No. No, not at all. It’s just that I have things to do. I have to meet the cleaners. I have to order new bar stools. No. It isn’t you.’ She spoke quickly, almost added ‘it’s me’ but managed to stop herself.

‘Well, would you mind if I walked you to the bar? It’s only a short distance. I’m sure I can stop myself from offending you again,’ he said.

‘Very well. If you want to,’ Siswan told him.

Whilst she waited for Mirak to pay the bill, Siswan tried to pull herself together. She just didn’t know what was happening. Her heart was beating faster. Her face felt hot. She tried to slow her breathing. Tried to control her feelings. Control her body.

‘Right, shall we go?’ Mirak asked, turning to her after paying the waitress.

‘Yes. Thank you for the drink,’ she said. She was breathing a little easier. She turned from the café and started to walk along the pavement towards the bar. The tourists and locals made passage awkward and she felt sorry for Mirak as he wound in and around groups of people whilst still trying to stay beside her. Suddenly he reached out. Held her arm.

‘Siswan. Would you like to walk along the beach? I always find it far more relaxing,’ he asked her.

She was surprised by his suggestion. It was exactly what she would normally have done. She seldom walked on the shop side of the road. It was far too busy and there was never anything she wanted, or needed, to buy.

‘Yes.’ She smiled at him. ‘That’s a good idea.’

They made their way across the road and down to the sand. Kicking off their shoes they walked farther down to the waters edge.

‘I love the sound the waves make,’ Mirak said, as he walked beside her.

‘Really?’ she asked.

‘Yes, it’s like music, or maybe a heartbeat. Natures heart beating out a rhythm.’ He was looking out to sea as he spoke.

Siswan looked to her feet. Watched the sparkling drops of water fly into the air as she walked. Mirak was saying exactly what she thought. Could he read her thoughts? No. That was silly. Lots of people must think the same way about the waves. It was just a coincidence.

‘Why weren’t you in uniform last night?’ she asked, to stop him talking about the waves.

‘Oh. I’m a detective now,’ he said. ‘I got promoted. Sort of.’

‘So, how come you came to the bar?’

‘I was in the station when the call came in. Thought I’d pop along,’ he told her.

‘That was good of you,’ she said.

‘I did have another reason, Siswan.’

She didn’t say anything. She watched the water splash off her feet again.

She didn’t want to encourage him and yet, at the same time, she didn’t want him to stop. It was most confusing. And infuriating.

‘To be honest,’ he continued. ‘I wanted to see you again after the first time we met. The call was an ideal opportunity.’

‘That’s nice of you,’ she said.

She didn’t know what else to say. It was nice of him. It was flattering to have such a handsome man offer such attention. The problem was that she didn’t know what it was she wanted. She looked at the waves. Another obstacle? She didn’t know.

‘I’m not too sure what to say,’ she told him, honestly.

‘Well, you could agree to taking a night off work. Perhaps we could go for a meal, or maybe the cinema, or something?’ he suggested.

‘I don’t know, Mirak. I told you before. I really don’t want any complications in my life.’ She didn’t think she believed the words.

‘Yes. You did. Then you suggested a coffee. Even though you drank water,’ he said and laughed.

‘Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t know why I did.’ She was looking at her feet again.

‘Well, maybe you wanted to, really. Perhaps your heart is in conflict with your head?’

‘Yes. Maybe you’re right.’ Of course he was right. ‘Could you let me have your phone number? I could ring you. Let you know.’

‘Yes. No problem.’ He took a card from his wallet and passed it to her. ‘I hope you call, Siswan.’

They finished their walk to the bar in comparative silence. Siswan wasn’t too sure what to say and Mirak, guessing her feelings, didn’t force the conversation. When they arrived outside the main door he took her hand.

‘Thank you, Siswan. I enjoyed our time together,’ he said.

‘I enjoyed it too, Mirak. Thank you.’

She gently removed her hand and turned to open the bar doors. The steel shutters were already up. The cleaners were inside.

‘I hope to see you again, Siswan,’ Mirak told her, and started to leave. She turned back just as he started walking away.

‘Mirak,’ she called. ‘I will call you.’

The smile he gave her sent a small shiver through her body. She didn’t know what it was about him but, when he smiled like that, her body seemed to take over.

It was about two hours later that she realised she hadn’t posted the letter to Ped. She silently berated herself for having forgotten. She would have to go back down to the main road to the post office. Before that she wanted to talk to Mike and Apple. Mike first though.

He had turned up about an hour before and was upstairs with Rican. He had been spending more and more time with the short order cook. Siswan guessed that it wasn’t just her cooking that he was interested in. Good for him, she thought. In fact, it was good for both of them.