Coconuts and Wonderbras (13 page)

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Authors: Lynda Renham

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General

BOOK: Coconuts and Wonderbras
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    ‘I’m going to wash downstairs. Dinner will be ready in about ten minutes. Cover yourself in insect repellent. You do have insect repellent don’t you?’

He is grinning at me again in that mocking way that I hate so much.

    ‘Of course,’ I snap.

I would rather be bitten to pieces and die an ugly and painful death than admit to not having any. As soon as he leaves I pull off my clothes and rummage through my toiletries for soap and body lotion. The water is cool and clean and within minutes I am feeling a hundred times better. From my suitcase I take one of my favourite summer dresses that I had bought from Jigsaw. I think it looks okay on me, but without a mirror I can’t be sure. I feel fine, so maybe I haven’t caught cholera after all, although I imagine it will be hours before I know for sure. Dinner is served in a small room off the foyer. Alex and I are seated opposite each other and an old woman, who I presume is the hotel owner’s wife, brings in plates of hot steaming food. It smells delicious but let’s face it, even poison can smell great. Alex piles rice onto a plate followed by small round pieces of meat.

    ‘It looks good. Try and eat some. They consider it an honour to be feeding us.’

    ‘Don’t tell me, even they know who you are. Your reputation as saviour of the world must precede you.’

What am I saying? He hasn’t even been rude and I am insulting him. He certainly brings out the worst in me. He gives me a quizzical look and bites into the meat. I fork some rice into my mouth.

    ‘The rice is good isn’t it? Aren’t you going to eat your meat?’ he challenges.

Why is he so horrid? He deliberately stabs two more pieces of meat and makes a big show of eating them. The old woman smiles at me as she pours what looks like wine into glasses. Thank God, I need something alcoholic. I spoon two pieces of meat into my mouth and chew slowly. Actually it isn’t too bad, a bit chewy but quite nice considering. In fact, it tastes very much like chicken and I suddenly remember the little chicks that were pecking around my feet earlier. Oh no, surely not. I point to the meat and look around for the chicks. They are nowhere to be seen.

    ‘The baby chicks and their mother, this isn’t them is it? We’re not eating the babies are we?’ I ask.

I feel sick.

    ‘Of course not, it’s water snake. What do you think of it?’ laughs Alex.

I think I am going to be ill is what I think. I wind my hand around my glass of wine and take a long gulp and almost fall off my chair.

    ‘It’s palm-sap wine. I’d go easy on that if I were you,’ he advises in that know-it-all voice.

    ‘You can go off people,’ I mumble.

He smiles, and I stupidly feel my heart do a little flutter. He does have a nice smile. I can’t deny that and he is very good looking. In fact he seems quite approachable at the moment and less of the macho man. His hair is slightly damp from his earlier wash and he has that fresh clean smell about him that is uniquely his. In fact, now I think about it, I don’t recall him ever smelling of aftershave, unlike Toby who pongs of it, so I find it quite amazing that I ever picked up the smell of ‘Trésor’ on him.

    ‘Does Penelope eat the food out here?’ I find myself asking, recalling her disgust at the party when I tucked into the turkey.

    ‘God no, she barely eats food in England. Hot countries aren’t her thing.’

I wonder what her thing is but say nothing. So, I am taken by surprise when he asks,

    ‘I take it a country like Cambodia isn’t Toby’s thing either? Or am I wrong and he has been here and just got his facts all wrong.’

Immediately, I find myself feeling defensive on Toby’s behalf.

    ‘He actually spends a great deal of time on his research, but no, he hasn’t been to Cambodia and neither have I come to that.’

He looks at me over his forkful of rice but doesn’t comment. I lower my eyes and fiddle with my meat. The dessert is much more palatable. We finish with water melon and sweet sticky rice, and I eat more than I should. Alex chats in a relaxed manner to the owner and doesn’t bother to translate. I sit drinking the palm-sap wine until I feel a little tipsy. By this time I had completely forgotten that my room is several rickety steps up a ladder, however, I am rudely reminded of that when Alex quips,

    ‘Right, I think you and I should go to bed.’

    ‘Not together I hope.’

God, did I say that? I have drunk too much. He either didn’t hear or conveniently ignores my comment. He thanks our host by bowing gratefully. I attempt to bow but am so giddy that I almost topple forward. Thankfully Alex escorts me up the ladder. After bidding me goodnight he disappears through the curtain to his own room. I fall onto the bed and take my Blackberry from my bag. It is late afternoon in England and even though it is the weekend I decide to phone Jamie. It clicks straight into voice mail.

    ‘Jamie, it’s me. Can you please phone me? The hotel is absolute crap. It has a bucket for the loo and Alex know-it-all Bryant is no help at all. He is so arrogant, and I am sure I will catch cholera, or something worse, and he couldn’t care less. Please phone me.’

I hang up and feel an overriding anger towards Alex Bryant. After washing my face in cold water and giving my teeth a cursory brush I attempt to negotiate the toilet. Surely, Bryant could have explained to the owner that this wasn’t suitable and found another hotel? No, it’s no good. No matter how desperate my bladder is to be relieved I can’t go. I strain and strain but nothing happens. I visualise running water but still nothing happens.

    ‘Oh, come on, it’s just a bucket. You’ve done a wee in a bucket before,’ I reprimand myself. Although, actually, I have never had a wee in a bucket, I mean, why would I?

    ‘Bloody know-it-all,’ I say loudly. ‘Who does he think he is, talking in blooming Khmer?
It’s water snake, what do you think?
Up yours, fancy pants Bryant. If I get cholera you’ll be sorry. Honestly, all that stuff about knowing the customs and stuff, what a show off. I hate you Alex-
know-it-all
-Bryant. Maybe half the women in the country would go to bed with you but I certainly wouldn’t, not even if you asked me, so there, and you could at least have got me some air conditioning, you horrible man.’

My bladder, seemingly hearing my rant and obviously in agreement with me, decides to let my urine flow free. What a relief. At that moment there is a strange tapping sound and I practically fall off the bucket.

    ‘Who’s that, who’s there,’ I call frantically. Can’t I pee in peace, for Christ’s sake?

    ‘Alex. My room is literally the other side of the curtain. Can I come through?’

Oh no.

    ‘What do you mean?’

    ‘My room is next door,’ he whispers, peeking around the curtain just as I am pulling up my knickers.

    ‘Oops, sorry,’ he says, but I hear the amused tone in his voice.

    ‘Come on, what is wrong with you?’ I say angrily.

    ‘Apparently, I’m arrogant and a show off but I do have air-conditioning fans.’ He holds one out to me.

Of course, I now feel terrible.

    ‘Obviously, I didn’t really mean it when I said you were arrogant and a show off,’ I say, not meeting his eyes.

    ‘Of course not,’ he smiles.

He is wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and as much as I try to direct my eyes to his face they just keep strolling to his… well you know how it is.

I grab the fan off him and point to the curtain.

    ‘If you wouldn’t mind.’

    ‘Certainly, and if you wouldn’t mind keeping the noise down, some of us are trying to sleep. By the way, you looked very nice this evening.’

I am speechless. Before I can respond he is gone. Did he actually say I looked nice? Not fat, or a bit overweight, or even a bit on the plump side but very nice? Blimey, he must be delirious with the heat. I get into the bed and turn the fan on full. I strain my ears but can hear no sound through the curtain. Tomorrow I will make arrangements to return home. Did I really say I wouldn’t go to bed with him even if he asked? I embarrass myself, I truly do. With a cringe I pull the sheet over my head.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

 

    I wake up hot, sweaty and with light streaming in through the window. I groan. I groan even louder when I see it is only six o’clock and hear the cockerel. How is a girl supposed to get her beauty sleep around here? I squeeze my eyes shut and attempt to ignore the crowing. After five minutes I irritably climb from the bed. I hear Alex talking to the hotel owner downstairs. So, he is up, which is a bit disconcerting because it means at some point he wandered through my room and past my bed. This is unless, of course, he spirited himself down the rickety staircase which wouldn’t surprise me. He would have seen me stark naked as I awoke in the early hours sweating like a Cambodian pig and threw everything off me. I peer out of the window to view the dastardly cockerel. The view is amazing. All I can see are rice fields and blue skies. Not far in the distance is a temple. How lovely to have a temple so near. It can only be about 100 metres away. I must have a look later. Oh no. My mother’s words echo in my head,

    ‘It looked fabulous, and it has a beautiful temple with a huge bell. Apparently when the monks sound the bell all of the villagers go to the temple. How amazing is that?’

Please don’t let it be that village. I dive into my handbag and pull out the address that Jamie had given me. Sod it. It is neatly written in both English and Khmer and most certainly directs us to Siem Reap. I gave the driver the wrong piece of paper. I’m in the village mother recommended. Oh, wonderful. Now, how do I tell Alex
-never-make-a-mistake
-Bryant what I’ve done? I really don’t want to hear his
I told you so,
especially not at this time of the morning. I head downstairs to reluctantly impart the bad news.

    ‘Ah, good morning,’ he greets me brightly, ‘did you sleep well?’

    ‘Very well, thank you.’

He is clean shaven, fresh faced and looks disgustingly healthy and fit. I open my mouth to tell him my mistake and close it again when he says.

    ‘I’m waiting for Jamie to call back. I’ve left a message and told him the name of the village. It’s not ideal. I can’t understand what went wrong. I covered all the bases to keep us secure.’

Oh dear. This is so not good. How on earth do I break the awful news?

    ‘If I find out who has put us in danger…’ he continues.

On second thoughts, maybe it’s best not to break the awful news after all.

    ‘Are we really in danger,’ I ask, trying to hide the tremor in my voice. I don’t want him thinking I am a coward, even if I am.

    ‘At the moment all westerners are good hostage material, if that’s what you mean?’

I look around for the other guests.

    ‘We are the only guests,’ he says reading my mind. ‘There is some fruit for your breakfast and coffee in the pot. The owners have gone into the village.’

I notice he is far too diplomatic to mention last night. He turns from me to take a call on his mobile while I pick up a bowl of watermelon. I have donned the same dress I had on last night and although it is already hot I feel a lot cooler than when we arrived last night. Toby hasn’t replied to my text. Come to that, neither has Jamie. I pour myself a cup of coffee and wander outside to the veranda. I step around the baby chicks that I’m pleased to see are still alive and sit on a rickety chair. I can now see that the hotel is nothing but a ramshackle old house which stands on stilts. No wonder there were so many steps when we arrived. Opposite is a never-ending rice field, and the view is breathtaking. The sun shimmers on the water between the tufts of rice plants and a solitary cow grazes by the side of the sandy road. An old cart is propped against the house almost resembling a biblical scene. The terrain is flat, and I can see palm trees in the distance.
I sip at my coffee and soak up the tranquillity of the place. The sun bathes my skin with deep warmth. You would never think there was an uprising here. It is so peaceful.

    ‘Ah, you’re here. That was Jamie on the phone.’

This morning he is wearing combat trousers and a loose black top. He looks a little more like the superhero, and I find myself viewing him the way I always have. I’ve never liked him. How could I like someone who has humiliated my boyfriend in public? But, it is hard not to admire his good looks and his obvious bravery.

    ‘It’s quite lovely here,’ I say wistfully.

    ‘And very unsafe and totally exposed,’ he says in that
don’t worry, I can take them all single handed
voice I so detest.

He is so intense. This is Cambodia, not the Middle East. I often think he gets his countries muddled up. At that moment my Blackberry blares loudly from my handbag. Thinking it may be Jamie I plunge my hand in to grab it. It’s Toby, and I hesitate as I don’t want Alex to hear our conversation. I hesitate for too long, and the call goes to voicemail. I’m about to throw it back into my bag when it rings again. God, he is persistent. He must be missing me. I feel so happy I could jump up and dance. I’m beginning to think that coming to Cambodia was a good idea after all. I wait for Alex to go inside but does he? No, he just stands there looking at me. I answer the phone and hope my voice doesn’t shake.

    ‘Libby, is that you?’

No, it’s the Queen Mother. Who else would it be?

    ‘Yes, of course it’s me. Are you…’

    ‘You’ve got to get out of there. Jamie said you’ve somehow ended up in Khum Pleeung.’

What is he on about?

    ‘What is the weather like there? I bet it feels Christmassy. What are you doing over… ?’ I begin pleasantly.

    ‘Why did that bastard take you there, he should have known better, Jesus Christ, what a wanker…’

I cough slightly but make no comment.

    ‘If anything happens to you I’ll never forgive that idiot, or myself for that matter. I wish you were here Libs. I really miss you.’

Blimey, I should go away more often.

    ‘Well…’ I begin.

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