Coconuts and Wonderbras (32 page)

    ‘Almost there,’ he says gently.

    ‘I look like I’ve wet myself,’ I say miserably.

He gives me a weak smile.

    ‘Toby has asked me to marry him,’ I say. God knows why I say that.

He scoffs.

    ‘I hope you will both be very happy. A romantic proposal was it?’

Why is he so hateful? I pull a hairbrush from my bag.

    ‘At least it was one,’ I say stiffly, throwing the brush back irritably when I realise my hair is too damp to brush.

I retrieve my perfume and spray myself with Rive Gauche, the familiar fragrance calming me.

    ‘I love that smell,’ he says softly and edges his hot body closer. I feel my heart dance, while my mind reels. Why doesn’t he reassure me that everything is okay with us? Why doesn’t he ask me not to marry Toby? Doesn’t he care? I feel inclined to become celibate when I get home. I shall lose even more weight and get my hair cut into one of those shaggy wild styles like Meg Ryan. I’ll go to the gym every day, well maybe every other day, and I’ll exfoliate so much that my skin will glow. I shall then just use men and discard them like old shoes. I’ll drive them mad sexually until they beg for release and…

    ‘Libby?’

I am pulled from my daydream. The Buddha has stopped and the noise from outside is deafening. People are shouting and bells are ringing. He looks deeply into my eyes, and if it wasn’t for the perspiration dripping into mine, I may have been able to have looked into his. I feel myself sway with the heat and my head is now thumping.

    ‘Look at me,’ I cry. ‘I look terrible and I am so scared.’

    ‘I have been assured that everything is safe. And as far as I am concerned you look fabulous,’ he says wiping the tears from my cheeks.

    ‘But…’

    ‘We should go.’

There is a knock and the Buddha shakes as the curtains are pulled aside. I feel myself tremble. Alex runs his fingers through his hair and stretches. It is all I can do to stop myself from throwing my hot sweaty body on top of his. The muscles in his arms seem to ripple and I feel a shiver of desire run through me.

    ‘Don’t be afraid. I won’t let anyone hurt you and whatever anyone else tells you, always remember, your writing is superb,’ he whispers.

    ‘Alex,’ I begin, but the noise of the crowd drowns out my voice. The sudden brightness dazzles us. The cool air on my face is so wonderful that I almost cry with relief. The people are going crazy, waving, cheering and surging towards us. The strong smell of sizzling pork reaches my nostrils and I feel myself sway slightly with overwhelming nausea.

    ‘Aleeeeex, Aleeeex,’ they are shouting and I shake my head in disbelief. The man truly is a hero. After climbing from the Buddha he reaches out a hand to grasp mine. Samnang is waiting to greet us and I am happy to see a friendly face.

    ‘The news went live about fifteen minutes ago,’ he informs us. ‘People have been going crazy ever since.’

People reach out to touch Alex. He climbs on a platform where a mike is handed to him. A loud screech emanates from it.

    ‘Come with me,’ shouts Samnang. ‘You have less than ten minutes.’

I tear my eyes from Alex and allow myself to be directed to a small washroom where I am able to straighten my hair. The crowd are silent and all I can hear is Alex’s commanding voice. I look at myself in the dirty cracked mirror of the equally dirty washroom and think what a ‘fantabulous’ place Cambodia is. I hurry back to Samnang who guides me to the studio. Alex joins us after a few minutes. Through a glass window I can see my mother with Toby, Penelope, Jamie and Jonathan. Toby looks worked up about something with his finger pointing at Alex. I turn my chair away from Toby and look at Alex fiddling with his headphones. I then realise what Toby is flapping about. I had totally forgotten all about the shirt. Oh dear.

Issy

    Toby looks like he is about to have a fit. He seems unable to speak and everything that comes out of his mouth is garbled gibberish. He points at Alex with a shaking finger. Jesus, I just hope he doesn’t start another fight here in the studio. Libs’ pheromones must be in overdrive these days. Toby fights to find his voice and finally shrieks,

    ‘He’s wearing my shirt. The bastard nicked my shirt.’

We stare at Toby’s shirt which is straining against Alex’s firm muscular chest. It looks to me as if the buttons are about to pop off.

    ‘He has more muscle than you though doesn’t he Toby,’ I hear myself say. I bite my lip realising the last thing we need is for Toby to go into a real frenzy.

    ‘Where, I mean, who? What the…’ he stutters and we wait with bated breath.

    ‘How the fuck did he get my shirt?’ he whines. ‘Who the fuck does he think he is? First he tries to steal my girlfriend and then my bloody shirt. Christ, he’ll be stealing my fucking identity next.’

I don’t think so, Toby boy.

    ‘I’m quite sure he’s not trying to steal your girlfriend,’ says Penelope stiffly. To prove her point she blows a sickly kiss to Alex through the glass.

Toby paces up and down like a tiger, giving Alex an occasional two finger salute.

    ‘Oh, do grow up Toby,’ snaps Fenella.

He continues to glare at Alex.

    ‘I want him arrested when all this is over.’

A light goes on to tell us to be quiet. We all stare mesmerised as Alex is given his cue and the interview begins. Just as it does, the two men we had escaped from earlier enter the room and sit quietly at the back. Fenella grasps my hand tightly.

    ‘Oh dear,’ she mutters.

Libby on the other side of the glass looks equally concerned. The only person riveted by the interview and grinning from ear to ear is Jamie. The crowd outside are cheering. Alex is certainly the hero of the day.

    ‘The book will sell like wildfire now. I’ll need to set up more TV appearances when we get home. I might even see if I can get a book out with both Libby and Alex’s perspective on the Cambodian trip,’ Jamie gushes.

Meanwhile Penelope is giving Libs daggers. God, I will be so relieved to get home. As Alex’s interview finishes, the two men move menacingly towards us. Fenella waves frantically to Libby as though pleading for help but Libs has gone. What follows is like something out of a nightmare. I try to be calm but there is so much shouting and jabbering that I think I will go mad. More police arrive and everything goes crazy. Libs bursts in and demands to know what is happening. Someone mentions drugs. Oh bollocks. What if this is like Bangkok? Jesus, we will all get the death sentence. Fenella is shouting how this is frightful and that she will contact her MP when she gets home. Shit, how will we get lawyers here? Jonathan stands on a chair and shouts there has been a terrible mistake as I am dragged away. I wonder if I will ever see him again. We are handcuffed and thrown into the back of a van. Jonathan shouts that all will be okay but I don’t feel very confident. Libby is shell-shocked and nothing I say helps. Toby wraps her in his arms and she doesn’t push him away. Where the hell is Alex Bryant? Madam Zigana never mentioned this, and if she did it was bloody cryptic. I only hope I get home to tell her she spun us a load of bollocks.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

    I don’t think my Wonderbra is going to be much use in this situation. Talking of which, where the hell is Alex?

    ‘This is disgraceful,’ cries mother, rattling her handcuffs madly at the little hatch between us and the driver.

    ‘Do you hear me?’ she shouts. ‘Disgraceful! Just wait until my MP hears about this.’

Her coiffured hair is plastered to her face, and her foundation has streaked down onto her neck making her look like an Apache Indian. Oh dear. I hand her a Kleenex and point to her neck. She groans in despair and dabs at it.

    ‘That’s if you ever get out of here to write to your MP,’ wails Issy.

    ‘Kilimanjaro was never like this was it dear? They don’t have politics there.’

Father nods. Penelope sobs silently and Toby puts a comforting arm around her. Charming, shouldn’t he be comforting me? Although I have to say he was very comforting amidst that hideous uproar of earlier.

    ‘My wrists are swelling up, look, they are all puffy,’ sobs Penelope. ‘It’s these handcuffs. I don’t do cheap metal, I’m allergic to cheap. Anything cheap brings me out in a rash.’

    ‘I’d demand the nine-carat, diamond-encrusted ones if I were you,’ scoffs Issy. ‘I’m sure they have a pair for celebrities and stuck-up bitches.’

I cringe.

    ‘Oh dear,’ mumbles mother.

    ‘Chin up, Fluff,’ cheers my father who is obviously in denial.

    ‘But drugs, I mean, holy shit,’ wails Issy. I wonder if I should slap her. I’m only hoping that Penelope doesn’t get hysterical and I’ll have to slap her too. If I slap her there is a good chance a cat fight may ensue and that would be all we need. I am seriously having doubts about Alex-
won’t-let-anyone-hurt-you
-Bryant. Where the hell is he?

    ‘Will you shut up Issy,’ hisses Jamie.

    ‘Is it like Bangkok here?’ she asks in a trembling voice. ‘Will they shoot us?’

Penelope shudders.

    ‘They need proof that we are involved in drugs and they don’t have any do they?’ I say sounding more confident than I feel.

    ‘I want to know where that poofy little boyfriend of yours has got to,’ growls Toby.

Jamie hangs his head.

    ‘Do you think he is involved in something?’ Issy asks.

    ‘I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon. He went to visit a friend in the city.’

    ‘Sodding shirt-lifter, he is probably going to get us life,’ yells Toby.

    ‘Jesus,’ I mumble.

    ‘It will be okay Libs, I’m sure it will,’ Toby says while moving from Penelope and putting a comforting arm around me.

I feel myself lean into him, although I am desperately missing Alex. Where did he go? More importantly
why
did he go? He must have seen what happened to us. If he’s been arrested too then there is no hope for us. There is absolutely no one to help us.

If I thought the van was bad, prison is even worse. We have our personal belongings taken from us and are frisked down by a mean-looking guard before being herded like cattle into our tiny cells. It’s nearly as bad as a flight with EasyJet. I swear there are cockroaches in our cells. Issy is thrown into a cell with my mother while Jamie, Toby and my father are thrown into another and, disaster of disasters I am thrown into one with Penelope who makes claim to the top bunk without even asking me.

    ‘I’ll have you all fired, do you hear me? Do you have any idea who I am?’ Penelope yells while shaking the prison bars.

    ‘Shit, shit, my nail,’ she sobs, flapping her hand around.

    ‘I don’t imagine nail files are essential in here,’ shouts Issy. ‘Although I’m sure once they realise who you are, they will send a manicurist in.’

Penelope flops
onto the hard mattress.

    ‘Oh God, did you see things moving on there,’ she screams while pointing
at
my mattress.

I find myself staring at her enviously. How does she manage to look so good? Here we all are in some flea-infested pit and even my mother is looking the worse for wear but Penelope just seems to come up smelling of roses. Now I come to think about it, isn’t that a bit like Alex? No matter what the situation he always manages to look fabulous.
I always manage to look like I have just dragged myself out of bed the morning after a wild night of partying. Toby is quite right. They are in a completely different league to us

    ‘I’m sure we won’t be in here too long,’ says Penelope, seeming calmer. ‘After all, Jonathan will contact the British Embassy and they will have us out in no time.’

She couldn’t have been more wrong. Hours pass and what small amount of light there was coming through the tiny window quickly diminishes. Dim lights illuminate our new home. Our cells are next to each other, in a line off a corridor like carriages in an old-fashioned train. It is quiet, apart from a dripping noise and although we can’t see the other cells we can hear each other as clear as anything.

    ‘We’re going to die in here,’ Issy
sobs.

We all go silent at the sound of rattling keys and slow footsteps. A guard pushes two bowls of rice and some very suspicious looking meat into our cell. But most appealing of all are the bottles of water.

    ‘Don’t eat it,’ yells Toby as if the food has been laced with arsenic. ‘And whatever you do, don’t drink the fucking water.’

    ‘I’ve been bitten,’ moans Jamie.

A bang from outside makes me jump, sending the rice flying off my plate into Penelope’s lap.

    ‘You did that on purpose,’ she hisses.

    ‘I did not.’

    ‘Oh my God, was that a firing squad. Oh Jesus, they are going to shoot us. They do that to drug dealers don’t they?’ groans Issy.

    ‘It came from the street outside. I don’t think they have public executions any more,’ says Toby, who I imagine is gagging at the sight of the rice.

    ‘How do you know?’ hisses Issy. ‘They are probably going to make an example of us. The whole world will watch our execution.’

    ‘Do you think?’ asks Penelope suddenly brightening up.

I stare at her. Jesus, is she bizarre or what? She’ll be asking for a hair stylist next.

    ‘It was probably a car backfiring,’ says Toby.

    ‘Are you sure?’ squeals Issy.

Good God. I don’t know how much more I can take. In fact, much more of this and I will shoot Issy myself.

    ‘This food has been poisoned, I’m sure of it,’
whines Toby.

    ‘I read a book once about a prison in Asia and how they got people to confess to smuggling drugs. It was…’ begins mother, in a haunting voice.

    ‘Don’t tell us, please don’t tell us,’ pleads Issy.

    ‘I’m going to drink the water,’ I announce. I am unable to control my thirst any longer.

    ‘No,’ shouts Toby. ‘Don’t drink that.’

I gulp down half the contents of the bottle.

    ‘Shit, Libby, do you have a death wish or something?’ mumbles Jamie.