Bar Girl (7 page)

Tim ordered yet another round of drinks. They were in good moods. Even John, who normally kept so quiet had joined in the conversation.

‘I loved a girl once,’ he said, to nobody in particular.

‘Really John?’ Barry asked. ‘Who was that then?’

‘Lovely girl she was,’ John reminisced. ‘Had a tattoo on her bum.’

‘What did it say?’ Tim asked.

‘No entry,’ John said.

The rest of them burst out laughing. Big Barry spluttered whiskey all over the bar.

‘Bloody hell, John,’ he shouted, after coughing his airways clear. ‘I thought you were being serious.’

‘I was,’ John said. He went back to his beer and his memories. He wasn’t laughing.

‘Yes. Well, er. Thanks for that moment, John. Good of you to share that with us,’ Tim said, still grinning.

Mike held his hand out to Pan. She looked up at him with a puzzled expression. He smiled. She passed him the bar chit for the drinks Tim had ordered. Mike checked it, smiled, passed it back. She looked sullen. Siswan was walking back towards him. The three girls followed in her wake.

‘Well done, Mike. We’ll make a bar owner out of you yet,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘The girls are going home now.’

‘What for?’ Mike asked.

‘Oh. They’re just tired. They need to get some sleep.’

The look in her eyes told him that was all there was to say on the subject. She had already turned away before he could argue.

‘Oh dear, Barry,’ she laughed. ‘You seem to have made a bit of a mess haven’t you. You really ought to be able to find your mouth by now, you know.’

Siswan took a cloth and mopped up the drink Barry had spluttered over the bar.

‘Pan?’ Siswan spoke in the local tongue. ‘Always keep the bar clean. There’s a good girl’

Mike watched her eyes. They didn’t smile even though her mouth did. He wasn’t sure what she’d said to Pan but he guessed. Things are changing around here, he thought. But why send the girls home? He didn’t understand that. Surely they were needed? Oh well. Best not to argue. He started to turn his attention back to the regulars.

‘Good night, Mike,’ Apple said, offering him a very polite wai.

He was startled. What the hell was this? They hadn’t said ‘goodnight’ to him before, let alone given him a wai. My god, now Tak and Lon were doing the same. He slipped off his stool. Started to raise his hands in response.

‘A smile will do, Mike,’ Siswan interrupted him. ‘Just a smile.’

He smiled at the three girls. They all took a quick glance at Siswan. They all nodded their heads to her as though in acquiescence. Bloody hell, Mike thought, this was a right turn up, and no mistake.

‘Good night girls,’ he said.

The three of them filed out. He looked to Siswan. Wanted to ask her what was happening. He couldn’t. She was busy with the regulars again. She had her arm resting gently across John’s shoulders.

‘I’m sure she was a lovely girl, John,’ she was saying.

My god, Mike thought yet again, she hadn’t missed a trick. Not a word. Even whilst she had been talking to the girls she’d kept an ear on the bar. Bloody hell.

It was two-thirty in the morning. The bar had closed. The regulars had gone home. Pan had gone home. Siswan and Mike sat at the bar adding up the evenings takings. Mike hadn’t believed the first count so they were going through the chits again.

‘But that’s almost as much as we were taking when the bar was doing well,’ he said, when the totals agreed for the second time.

‘Yes. Not a lot is it?’ Siswan told him.

‘It’s a hell of a lot compared with normal, Siswan.’

‘Mike, it’s chicken feed.’ She looked at him. ‘A bar like this, in this position, should be making twenty times this amount. On a bad night.’

‘Yes. But even so.’ He tailed off. Twenty times? That would be a bloody fortune.

‘I’m glad you are so easily pleased,’ she laughed. ‘That’s why I chose you.’

‘Does this mean I could buy a new pair of shorts?’ he laughed with her. It was easy to laugh with her.

‘I’d prefer you to get trousers, Mike,’ she told him. ‘And a new shirt.’

‘Right you are. I’ll pop out tomorrow afternoon,’ he agreed.

‘The girls will be here in six hours. We’re going shopping. You can come,’ she said.

‘Eh, what for?’ he asked.

‘For new uniforms,’ she told him, with a smile.

‘Hang on, Siswan,’ he said. ‘I know we did well tonight but we didn’t do that well.’

‘It’s alright, Mike. I’ll pay and, when the bar makes enough, it will pay me back.’ Her voice suggested that there would be no doubt about that. ‘The cleaners will be here at eleven.’

‘What cleaners?’ he asked.

‘Cleaners, Mike. You know. People who come in and clean. It’s not that hard to understand,’ Siswan told him.

‘Oh. Right. Well, I’d best get to bed then. Looks like it’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.’

‘Today, Mike. It’s going to be a busy day, today.’

‘Oh, yes. Today.’

‘I’ll see you later, then. I’ll lock up.’ She stood before him and gave him a wai. She waited.

Oh, bloody hell, he thought. What do I do? If I wai, will she tell me off? If I don’t, will that be wrong? What if I smile? Hang on, Mike thought. He knew what to do. He’d known for a long time. A smile is used for children and lesser persons. It’s used to acknowledge people with a lower standing in life. People you don’t need to show respect. He stood and gave her the most polite wai he could.

‘Well done, Mike. We’ll get along just fine. Goodnight,’ she said and smiled at him before turning away.

‘Goodnight, Siswan,’ he said, watching her leave.

Time for a whiskey, he thought. No better not. Maybe a cigarette? No. Best just get some sleep. He turned towards the stairs at the back of the bar. For the first time in a long time there was a smile on his face. Life was certainly going to get busy.

*****

Over the course of the next six weeks Siswan made changes. Lots of them. The bar was cleaned. Top to bottom. The lights were fixed. Some replaced. The toilets were repaired. The place shone like a new bar.

That was the least of it. The girls were given a makeover the like of which Mike had never seen before. They all wore identical uniforms. Short skirts, not too short mind, and skimpy tops that revealed their stomachs rather than their breasts. High heeled, open-toed sandals that made them taller, more elegant. They looked sexy. Incredibly sexy.

Siswan taught them how to apply just the right amount of make-up. It looked as though they weren’t wearing any. Their long black hair shone in the new lighting. They looked good. And it wasn’t just their looks she had changed. It was their attitude. They acted differently. For one thing, they were more respectful. More friendly.

‘You can all speak English,’ Siswan told them. ‘So don’t be afraid to talk.’

‘But what do we say?’ Jom asked.

Siswan had dealt with Jom in exactly the same way as the others. The girl had turned up on the morning they all went shopping. Lon and Tak hadn’t gone to a club either. Just to bed.

‘Tell them stories. Funny stories about your life. About your family. Don’t make the stories too long or they’ll get bored. Listen to what they have to say. Enjoy their company. Don’t just pretend, learn to really enjoy,’ Siswan had told them.

‘But they talk bad and just try for a free grope,’ Tak said.

Siswan had been patient. She’d told them how to deal with a farang that swore too much. How to move away whenever a hand strayed too far.

‘Tell them. Be direct. Farangs don’t mind being told. They aren’t the same as local men. They don’t get angry. Just tell them that they can look as much as they want but to touch will cost them money. Laugh as you tell them,’ Siswan said.

She had demonstrated exactly want she meant. She had taken the loudest, most drunk and foul mouthed farang and, within minutes, had him acting like a little school boy.

‘You see?’ she said later to the girls. ‘It’s not up to them how they behave. It’s up to you.’

‘But what if we can’t control them? What if they go too far?’

‘Then you come to me or Mike,’ she said. ‘If ever you get into trouble, if ever you are unsure, you come to me or Mike. About anything.’

The girls felt better. They felt as though Siswan was working with them. Was one of them. Willing to help. She was a hard boss, that was for sure. She wouldn’t allow anything underhand. No one was allowed to take advantage, but, when they worked hard, did as she expected, she took care of them. Was fair to them.

She had cut their drink and bar fine commissions to ten percent. She wouldn’t allow anyone to dip their hand in the till. Wouldn’t let them sit in the chairs outside. They had to be inside. Looking after the customers. Checking that their glasses were full, without being obvious about it.

She showed them how to smile, how to laugh with the regulars. Even though they heard the same story twenty times, it didn’t matter. Laugh and say the right thing, always. She taught them respect for the customer.

‘The customer is always right,’ she told them. ‘Even when he’s wrong, he’s still right.’

Slowly the girls began to learn. Apple picked it up the quickest, just as Siswan had thought. Slowly though, they all got it. The bar began to attract new customers.

As farangs walked past, they could hear the laughter coming from within. There were no girls outside trying to tempt them. There didn’t need to be. When they looked through the doors they could see smart, sexy girls all chatting and having fun with the customers. It looked like a good place to be. The girls really looked as though they were enjoying themselves, rather than just pretending. Even Pan was coming out of her shell. She was being bought so many drinks and earning so many tips, she was making more than when she’d been stealing from the till.

New customers came and stayed. Became regulars. Tourists would come every night of their two week holiday. They liked the place. It was full of laughter and fun.

‘Don’t ask the farangs to go with you,’ Siswan taught the girls. ‘Make sure it’s their idea.’

‘But what if they don’t ask?’ Tak said.

‘Oh, they will. As soon as they realise that you don’t care one way or the other, they’ll ask. Men are easy. You’ll see.’

And she’d been right. The less interest the girls showed, the more interest the men had. Even the regular regulars were finding themselves going home with a girl on their arm every now and then.

‘Don’t just aim for the good looking farangs. The chances are they will have had lots of girls and may be a health risk. Their money isn’t any better than an old or ugly one, either.’ Siswan taught them. ‘Remember to look after the regulars. They’re the ones who deserve better treatment.’

She never missed a trick. She made certain that a farang wasn’t left alone for too long. She circulated, spoke to everyone. Made sure no one was lonely. Before long the bar was packed every night. Twenty times the takings turned into thirty times. Still she wanted more.

‘Mike, we need two more girls,’ she told him at the end of a busy night. ‘I’ll look out for a couple tomorrow.’

‘Oh, right you are,’ Mike said.

He didn’t know why she bothered to ask him. She was running the place. In charge of it all. He did his best, of course. Tried to come up with new ideas. Tried to keep up with her, but she was miles ahead of him. She never seemed to sleep. Always the first to arrive. She worked tirelessly. He was too old for all this now. She was leaving him behind.

The funny thing was that Siswan did keep asking him. She included him in everything she did. He knew she could walk all over him, but she didn’t. At the end of every night she went over the books with him. Showed him exactly what had been earned. Clearly showed him the profits, the outgoings, the expenses. She had halved how much he was paying for the girls accommodation. She had found them a much nicer place closer to the bar at half the price of the other rooms. The girls were over the moon. They each had their own small room as well as a large lounge where they could watch TV or just sit and talk. The landlord gave them no trouble at all and even sent a woman around to clean the place once a week.

The bar was not only paying for itself it was making a handsome profit. More than Mike had ever earned before.

‘We need your room, Mike,’ Siswan told him one day.

‘My room?’ He looked worried.

Maybe this was the final push. When she got him out and took over completely. He didn’t know why she kept him there.

‘Yes. To make the food,’ she smiled.

‘Food?’

‘We can make a lot of money from food, Mike.’ She sat him down at the bar and went over her new idea. ‘We don’t do anything too fancy. Just bar snacks, but we make them very tasty and good value.’

He just looked at her. It was a good idea and would keep everyone drinking instead of leaving to find a restaurant. But what about him? What about his room?

‘We talked about this before, Mike,’ she said.

‘Did we?’

‘Yes. The very first night we met.’

‘Oh. Yes. I expect so.’

‘Yes. We discussed what you needed. Whiskey. Cigarettes. A better room. Remember? You added that you wanted some new clothes.’

‘But I’m hardly drinking. Don’t smoke so much either,’ he muttered.

‘That’s good, Mike. You were only killing yourself, anyway.’ She looked at him and smiled. ‘I’ve found you a really nice place. Care to take a look?’

Mike moved into his new apartment two days later. It was a fantastic place. A big lounge, large bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and, best of all, a balcony that afforded him a view right down to the beach.

‘So, what do you think, Mike?’ Siswan asked him, as they looked out at the vista below.

‘It’s amazing!’ he replied. ‘It’ll cost an arm and a leg though.’

‘No. Not very much.’

When she had shown him the rental agreement he could hardly believe his eyes. He would have paid four times that amount.

‘I figure we’ll be able to make that much on food in less than a week. The rest will be profit,’ she told him.

She was right as well. She brought in a short order cook who could knock up bar meals like there was no tomorrow. They were good as well. Big servings to suit the farangs. The cook, a local woman named Rican, had been operating her own little stall for the last few years. She was delighted with her new job. She earned more money and no longer had to pay for a licence. Mike took to her friendly attitude immediately and, more often than not, would eat all his meals in his own bar. Rican fussed over him. He liked it.