Bar Girl (29 page)

‘If Mike comes in, tell him where I’ve gone.’

She turned, walked back towards the doors. She could see all the other girls serving drinks, talking and joking with the customers. They were doing well. Everything looked as it should be.

As she walked along the crowded street she could spot the bars that were doing well and those that weren’t. The difference was the girls. It was always the girls. She passed one small bar. Three customers sat drinking. They wouldn’t stay long either. Who could blame them. The four girls who worked the bar sat outside looking bored. Dressed like the young prostitutes they were, they sat and smoked cigarettes. Too bored to even talk to one another let alone their customers. As she neared, a farang walked past the bar.

‘Welcome!’ One of the girls sang out, in a long nasal sounding voice.

To Siswan, it didn’t sound like a welcome at all. More like the wail of some banshee. Enough to frighten off the most hardened drinker. The farang walked past without giving a second glance.

It was the same in other bars. Even if the girls were pretty or attractive they weren’t getting much custom. It’s all about the attitude, Siswan thought to herself. Show the customer the good time they could be having without being obvious. That’s why she didn’t allow the girls to sit outside. Didn’t allow the banshee wails of ‘welcome’ to permeate the bars. The girls were inside, talking to the customers. Making them feel really welcome.

That’s what it was all about. Make them feel they’re important. Don’t pretend either. After all, they were important. The most important people in all the world.

She made her way to Swan’s bar. Followed the man who had walked past her earlier, in fact. Followed him all the way to the front door and into the noise beyond. She allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction as he held the door open for her to enter.

She found Apple surrounded by customers. Three men and two women were all listening to her tell a tale of bar work.

‘And, to end a really bad night, he didn’t even buy me a drink,’ she shouted to them above the noise.

The laughter that followed, as well as three offers of another drink, told Siswan that Apple was in control. She looked around. The other girls were all working well. Drinks were being sold as quickly as the girls could pour them. The two cashiers were beating out a steady rhythm on the cash registers. Two more girls, wearing skimpy miniskirts, were running around serving bar food and collecting the empty plates. The customers were enjoying themselves. The place was in full swing.

So different from the sombre mood of the afternoon. A world away from her village. A different universe. How much money did a bar like this contribute to a village like hers, she thought. How many thousands were sent home each week to keep the families fed?

‘Hello, Miss Siswan. How was it?’ Apple asked her in a concerned voice.

‘It went well, Apple,’ she said. ‘Very well, in fact.’

‘Things are okay here.’ Apple raised her voice over the noise.

‘Yes. I can see,’ Siswan replied. ‘Only one thing wrong, Apple.’

The young girl looked worried. She glanced quickly around the bar to see what it might be that had upset her boss.

‘What is it, Miss Siswan?’ she asked.

‘When, exactly,’ she asked. ‘Were you going to tell me about Mike and Rican’s wedding plans?’

Apple smiled with relief.

‘I did tell you not to be surprised,’ she said.

‘Isn’t it great!’ Siswan laughed. ‘And, we’re to be bridesmaids!’

Apple looked at her. She’d never seen her boss looking so happy. So radiant. It couldn’t just be about Mike’s wedding. There had to be something else.

‘Has Mirak called?’ she asked.

‘No,’ Siswan said. ‘I haven’t heard from him.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry.’ Apple suddenly felt foolish.

‘That’s okay, Apple. Don’t worry about it.’ Siswan smiled. ‘Let’s meet up with Rican tomorrow to discuss dresses.’

‘Yes!’ Apple laughed again. ‘Pink, or maybe light blue.’

‘Hold that thought, Apple.’ Siswan laughed. ‘I’m not going looking like icing on a wedding cake.’

The two girls laughed at the idea before walking back to the bar arm in arm. There were customers to serve. Drinks to be sold. Business first. Always business first. Siswan had never felt happier.

In the morning when Siswan, Apple and Rican were sat around the kitchen table discussing wedding plans, Siswan’s telephone rang. It was Mike.

‘Where are you?’ he asked.

‘Talking to your future wife,’ she told him.

‘There’s a problem.’ He sounded serious. ‘You need to come to the hospital.’

‘Oh, Mike. What is it?’ Her tone made Apple and Rican stop talking.

‘It’s Lon. She’s hurt,’ he told her.

‘How? What’s wrong?’

‘She’s been beaten, Siswan,’ Mike said. ‘Beaten badly. The police are here with me now.’

‘I’m on my way,’ she said, and hung up.

‘What is it?’ Apple asked.

‘Lon. She’s hurt,’ Siswan told her. ‘I’m going to the hospital.’

‘I’m coming with you.’ Apple wasn’t asking.

The two of them raced outside and called a taxi. By the time they got to the hospital they were desperately worried.

Siswan couldn’t help remembering the handsome face of the farang Lon had been with the night before. Had he done something? What could he have done?

Mike stopped them both at the entrance to the ward.

‘It’s not good,’ he told them. ‘Be prepared.’

When they entered they saw Lon lying on the first bed they came to. A tube ran from her nose to a respirator stood beside the bed. Her arms were covered in bandages and a tube connected her left one to a bag of blood hanging from a stand.

Her face was a mass of bruises and small cuts. Her eyes, although closed, were swollen and red. The lids looked as though they had been burned.

The white sheet that covered her body had slipped off slightly, revealing a cut and bruised leg. A uniformed police officer sat in a chair at her side.

‘What happened?’ Apple was the first to find her voice.

With a nod of his head Mike alluded to the officer who stood before he spoke to them.

‘It may be better to talk outside,’ he told them.

Before turning, Siswan glanced once more at the face of Lon. She remembered such a pretty girl, a girl who laughed and smiled. Not this. Not a face that looked so much like the dead face of her father.

Outside in the corridor the police officer spoke succinctly and quietly. He told them all that he knew and what he knew made Siswan feel sick to the stomach. In her mind she pictured the dead face of Sood. Cuts had covered her face. Bruises had revealed where she had been beaten. The open gash around her neck testament to the way she had died. But even those wounds, those vicious signs of a brutal attack, had not been as bad as what she was being told. What she had just seen.

Only once before had she known of an attack on a bar girl. Once, in all the years she had worked the bars. That had been different. She hadn’t really known the girl that well. Hadn’t thought of her as one of her girls.

As the officer spoke, her mind cast back to the last time something like this had happened. The last time a girl got more than she bargained for from a farang.

It was a shame. She had been enjoying their conversation. Siswan had been in the bar almost two years now. She’d learned to speak with the customers as though they were people instead of just money machines. She enjoyed their company. Had made a few friends, a few regulars.

The two farangs, who were now calling for their bill, were new to the country. Perhaps later, after they got used to the ways of the girls, they would come back. Be more susceptible. Siswan doubted it. Joy and Nok were too pushy. Too forceful in their attempts at getting a drink.

Siswan smiled to the two men as she handed them their bill. A smile of apology.

‘Thanks, Siswan. Nice to meet you,’ one of them pointedly told her.

‘Maybe we’ll see you again,’ the other one said.

‘I’d like that. Thank you for coming.’ She offered them a wai as they walked away from the bar.

‘Why do you do that, Siswan?’ Joy asked. ‘They didn’t even leave a tip.’

‘No, they didn’t. But they came, bought a few beers and they are customers,’ she replied.

It was a waste of time. The girls just didn’t get it. They probably never would.

‘They were sticky shits,’ Nok said in distaste. ‘Didn’t even buy us a drink.’ Siswan looked at the drug addicted girl. A black sleeveless tee shirt. A pair of denim shorts that left nothing to the imagination. Too much makeup. Her hair unkempt and lacklustre. She looked a mess. The drugs gave her deep dark circles below her eyes. Her mouth seldom smiled. She smoked cigarettes by the dozen and, Siswan was sure, didn’t shower often enough. Joy wasn’t much better.

‘They’re only farangs, Siswan,’ Joy said. ‘Why do you show them respect?’ They’d had the same discussions many times. The girls had their view and she had hers. She didn’t tell them that the two farangs had bought her three drinks that evening. Two of which she hadn’t needed to pour.

‘Just tab us for it, Siswan,’ they’d laughingly told her. ‘You don’t need to drink it.’

Siswan just couldn’t understand why it was that the girls thought it was all about the sex. Admittedly, a lot of the time it was, but not all the time.

The western men liked a bit of a chase. A bit of a game. They knew they could just buy a woman. They all knew that. They weren’t stupid. But that didn’t mean they didn’t enjoy the fantasy of actually wooing one. The make believe that, somehow, they had managed to pull a beautiful, sexy, young and, above all, willing, girl from the bar. It was all about the game. Sometimes the farangs played it better than the girls.

Siswan could see how it worked. Could tell when a man was genuinely interested in a girl and when he wasn’t. The signs were obvious.

‘Why don’t you go with a farang, Siswan?’ Mai asked her. ‘Then you’d know what a bunch of sex maniacs they are.’

‘That’s true,’ Joy added. ‘Go with one. Then you’d know.’

Siswan just looked at them as they wandered to the corner to sit and chat amongst themselves. She didn’t care what they thought. She wasn’t going to go with any men. Farang or otherwise.

She overheard Mai telling the others that she was late. She should have started her period a week ago and was worried that she was pregnant.

It was one of the fears of working the bars. The worst was HIV, but getting pregnant ran a close second. Sometimes a condom split or the farang didn’t like wearing one. Siswan could never understand that.

Very often the girls complained that a farang had insisted on not wearing a condom and the girl had to take the morning after pill. It made them sick and very few could work the following night. She didn’t understand the farangs either. Condoms protected against disease.

When Siswan had first started working in the bar, she’d been puzzled that the girls managed to work every day of the month. In the end she’d asked Nong about it.

‘They use the sponge,’ Nong answered.

‘What sponge?’ Siswan asked.

Nong had gone to her handbag, taken out a small, oval shaped sponge. It looked a bit like the one Siswan used to apply foundation except that it was slightly conical in appearance.

‘What do you do with it?’ she asked.

‘When you have a period, you push it inside,’ Nong told her. ‘It stops the blood for long enough. The farang doesn’t know the difference.’

Siswan had been shocked. Shocked that the girls would go to such lengths to continue working. To continue earning.

Even now, even though Mai was concerned about her late period, she was still in the bar. Still willing to work.

Three farangs were approaching the bar. The girls all moved towards them. Smiled at them.

‘Welcome!’ they called in their long, drawn out, sing-song manner.

‘Welcome!’

The farangs allowed themselves to be drawn in. Siswan recognised one of them. He’d been there a few times before.

‘Hello, Siswan,’ he smiled at her, as he took a stool.

‘Hello, Steve,’ she gave a wai. ‘Haven’t seen you for a while.’

‘Just got back,’ he told her. ‘Been back home to earn some more bar fine money.’

‘Well, you’ll be more than welcome to spend it here,’ she said and laughed, easily.

Steve was an easy guy to get along with. He knew the score and always paid his way.

‘My friends, Thomas and Harry.’ Steve introduced the two men with him.

‘Met them in The Tiger Bar. Told them I’d show them the friendliest and best looking cashier in the whole town.’