A New Beginning

by Mark David Abbott

  Adriana gazed back at him, and he reluctantly looked away, glancing down at his drink. He looked up again, changing the subject.

  “What are you working on at the moment? You said you are a writer?”

  “Yes,” Adriana nodded and reached for her drink. “I’m writing a piece about a new restaurant and bar on Soi 20.” She swirled the ice cubes around, the color of her drink changing from white to a light brown as the ice cubes melted and the espresso mixed in with the cream. She took a sip, then glanced at John. “The restaurant is called Dragon. Have you been there?”

  “No, I’ve walked past but never been in. Is it the one with the wooden walkways through the garden and the Koi ponds?”

  “Yes, that’s the one.”

  “It looks nice. Maybe I’ll go there one evening.”

  Adriana nodded, and stared into her drink, saying nothing.

  John watched her. She was exquisite—her skin, the way her hair caught the light, her long fingers, the neatly trimmed, uncolored nails, only a clear gloss. At that moment, she looked up and caught him staring at her. He looked away quickly, embarrassed.

  “John, I know we’ve just met, and this will sound a bit strange, but can I ask you a favor?”

  9

  Adriana had been putting off going to Dragon for a few days, but she needed to get her article finished, and her research was only raising more questions.

  She knew if she went there, Hassan would no doubt hit on her again, and she couldn’t face an evening making polite conversation with him while fending off the inevitable advances.

  She was happy she had found John at the café. He seemed nice and was an attractive man. He appeared interested but treated her like an equal, not as someone to pick up for a one-night stand. She would like to get to know him more, and perhaps, he could be useful.

  “I have to go to Dragon tonight for some research before I finish my article, and I don’t really want to go alone. When I interviewed the owner, he kept hitting on me. If you don’t have any plans, would you like to come with me?”

  John looked surprised but nodded. “Ahhh yeah. Sure, what time?”

  “Around seven?”

  “That’s fine. Where shall we meet?”

  Adriana thought fast. She didn’t want to arrive alone. “Why don’t we meet at the entrance to the Soi at the junction with Sukhumvit, and we can walk down there together.”

  “Perfect.”

  “Thank you, John. I realize you don’t really know me, and I’m being a bit forward, but it will help me a lot.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m happy to help.” He drained the last of his coffee, pushed back his chair, and stood up. “I have some errands to run. I’ll see you tonight?”

  “Thank you, John.” Adriana smiled and held out her hand.

  John shook her hand then reached into his pocket for some change.

  “No, John, today the coffee is my treat.”

  John hesitated, his hand still in his pocket, then relaxed and smiled. “That’s very kind of you, thank you. See you tonight.”

  Adriana sat back in her chair and picked up her drink. Tonight would be interesting.

  10

  John shifted his weight to the other foot. Even at seven p.m., it was hot. His shirt clung to his back, and a trickle of sweat ran down the side of his face.

  The fumes from the traffic snarled up along Sukhumvit remained trapped underneath the Sky Train line which ran above the road. He tried not to breathe too deeply.

  Across the Soi, he watched heavily made-up Thai women in tight mini-skirts and high heels beckon to the male tourists, inviting them in for cold beers and “happy endings.”

  He had gone to one of the bars once, but it wasn’t for him. There was nothing wrong with it, everyone had to earn a living, but he didn’t want his memories of Charlotte to be tarnished with a paid-for encounter in a seedy bar.

  He checked his watch; it was just before seven. Adriana should be here soon.

  An Indian man approached him, holding out a business card. “Do you want tailor, Sir?”

  “No, thank you,” John smiled and shook his head. “I live here.”

  “Sir, please take my card. I make suits for many people here. Not just tourists. I will give you special price. Local price.”

  John politely took the card and pretended to look at it.

  “My shop is over there.” The Indian man pointed across the street to a tailor shop next to the beer bars.

  “Okay, maybe next time, thank you.”

  The Indian man spotted a western family walking toward them and broke off to approach them, another card in his outstretched hand.

  A draft of ice cold air blasted his back as the door from the 7-Eleven behind him opened and closed. John tossed the business card into the nearest rubbish bin. He had been given so many of them in the last few months.

  On the corner, a group of rubjang, in their orange vests, sat side-saddle on their motorcycle taxis, smoking and laughing as they waited for their next passengers. The motor-cy, as the motorcycle taxis were known, were often the best way to cut through the notorious traffic. John had caught them from time to time. It wasn’t for the fainthearted though as the motorbikes whizzed through the traffic at high-speed, weaving in and out of the slow-moving traffic jams, knees just inches from the cars on each side.

  “John.”

  Turning to see Adriana standing beside him, his heart jumped. When she leaned forward to kiss him on both cheeks, he smelled citrus and flowers, and his brain failed to work for a moment as his heart danced a jig. He felt like a teenager again.

  “Hi.” He couldn’t think of what else to say

  “Shall we?” she asked, and they turned to walk down the Soi toward Dragon.

  John grinned as he saw the rubjang stop their conversation and stare as the tall, elegant woman in her figure-hugging silk dress walked past. If her plan had been to avoid attention from the owner of Dragon tonight, she would fail miserably.

  11

  Dragon was located halfway down the Soi on the right-hand side, on a corner plot filled with trees and tropical plants. At the entrance, beside an ornately carved wooden booth, stood a tall, thin, European woman with razor-sharp cheekbones and cosmetically enhanced lips. She looked Adriana up and down as she approached, and John detected a hint of disdain in her expression. With a sniff, she switched her attention to John.

  “Dinner or drinks?”

  John looked at Adriana. “Dinner?”

  “Sure.”

  The hostess consulted her clipboard, said “Follow me,” and led them inside, along a raised wooden pathway that led through Banyan trees and big-leaf tropical plants. Beside the walkway, Koi carp swam lazily in pools, flashing orange, red, and white in the reflection from the fairy lights hanging from the overhead branches. In the background, the soft pulse of a deep-house track filled the air as they approached the open-sided restaurant. Converted from a traditional Thai house, a steeply pitched roof with carvings of the winged god Garuda on the gable ends covered the open plan dining area. A verandah sheltering a long wooden deck ran the full length of the building, supported by ornately carved wooden pillars. Inside, half the tables were already occupied, and at the bar, which took up one side of the building, people were gathered for pre-dinner drinks. A DJ with headphones covering one ear bobbed up and down behind a set of decks in one corner. The air smelled of lemongrass and herbs. It was magical.

  As they walked in, John noticed with amusement men breaking off their conversations to watch Adriana pass by. With the exception of one man. At the end of the bar, toward the rear wall, a large Indian-looking man glared at John with undisguised hostility. The hostess led them to a table and without a word turned and returned to the front entrance.

  “Service with a smile,” John quipped as he pulled out a chair for Adriana and waited for her to sit before moving around to sit opposite her.

  “Perhaps she can’t smile with those lip fillers,” Adriana replied with a
cheeky grin.

  John looked around the restaurant. “It’s a lovely place.” He winked at Adriana. “I guess the angry-looking man seated at the bar is Hassan Rahman?”

  Adriana looked at him in surprise. “You know who he is?”

  “No, but I’ve learned the hard way a bit of research is always useful.” He glanced quickly toward Hassan who was now studying a pile of papers on the bar top. “Hassan Rahman, formerly of the garment trade in Bangladesh. Sold his factory, moved here to Bangkok and started this restaurant with the proceeds.”

  “Hmmm, so the story goes.”

  John raised an eyebrow. “You mean it’s not true?”

  Adriana waited as another tall, thin, European girl arrived at the table and handed them menus.

  “I have my suspicions,” Adriana replied as she opened her menu.

  “Really?”

  “Yes, but let’s order drinks first.”

  They studied the menu for a minute before a waitress appeared beside the table. She was Thai and unlike the two European girls before her, with normal-sized lips and actually looked happy to serve them.

  “Sawasdee Kaa,” she greeted them with a big smile. “Would you like drinks?”

  Adriana smiled back. “I’ll have a glass of red wine and some ice.”

  “Kaa,” the waitress replied, stringing out the vowels as if in a song.

  “Ice?” John raised an eyebrow.

  “Yes,” Adriana laughed. “It’s a habit I picked up from some of my Thai colleagues. In this heat, red wine is much more enjoyable with a couple of ice cubes in it. You should try it.”

  “No, thank you,” John shook his head with a grin. He turned to the waitress. “Do you have Botanist Gin?”

  “Yes, ka.”

  “I’ll have a Botanist and tonic with lots of ice and a slice of orange.”

  “Okay, ka. Gin Tonic. Red wine, ka.”

  “Kop Khun Krup,” John thanked her.

  The waitress smiled again, gave a slight bow, and retreated to the bar.

  There was a moment of silence as John watched Adriana look around the restaurant. God, she was beautiful. A movement behind her caught his attention.

  “Hassan Rahman is coming our way.”

  Adriana pulled a face. “Oh, no.”

  “Adriana, so pleased you could come.”

  Adriana arranged her face in a polite smile and turned to look up at Hassan standing beside her.

  “Hassan. Nice to see you again.”

  “I see you brought a friend.” Hassan turned and faced John, his smile not reaching his eyes. He held out his hand. “Hassan Rahman. I am the owner.”

  John stood and shook his hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

  Hassan gripped John’s hand tighter. “Mr…?”

  “Hayes, John Hayes.”

  Hassan squeezed John’s hand even tighter, but John didn’t respond, refusing to be drawn into a macho grip strength test.

  “Hmmm.” Hassan dropped John’s hand and turned back to Adriana. “Please enjoy yourself. You are my guest. Anything you like, it’s on me.”

  “That’s kind of you. Thank you.”

  “It’s my pleasure.” He snapped his fingers at the waitress. “I’ll send you a plate of sashimi to have with your drinks. It’s very fresh. We flew the fish in this morning from Japan.”

  “Thank you, Hassan. You are very generous.”

  “Let me know if there is anything you need. I’ll be right over there.” He gestured toward the bar.

  Hassan turned toward John and glared at him. “Mr. Hayes.”

  “Mr. Rahman.”

  He turned and walked back to the bar as John sat back down.

  “Well, he seems to like you,” John grinned, picking up his napkin and wiping his hand.

  Adriana shuddered. “He’s creepy.”

  The waitress arrived with their drinks, and John waited until Adriana had placed an ice cube in her glass of red wine, then raised his glass.

  “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  They sipped their drinks, then placed them back on the table.

  “They make a good gin and tonic.” John licked his lips. “Perfect for this weather. How’s your wine?”

  “Good, thank you. Are you sure you don't want to try it?”

  “Ah, no, thank you,” John grinned. “So, tell me. Why do you have suspicions about our friend, Hassan? Apart from the fact he has the hots for you?”

  “Well.” Adriana pursed her lips. “Call it a hunch, I suppose, I may be completely wrong.” She took a sip of wine before continuing, “He told me he had a garment factory in Dhaka and sold the business when the margins became too tough.”

  “Okay? Sounds reasonable so far.”

  Adriana studied her glass.

  “Yes, but there is a story about a fire that burned down his factory, an event he failed to disclose when I interviewed him. He told me he sold his business, but when I investigated further, it seems the fire killed three people inside. The rumors are he did it for the insurance.”

  “So,” John nodded thoughtfully and took another sip of his drink. “You think he burned the place down and fled the country with the insurance money, using it to set up his business here?”

  “That’s my theory, yes.”

  “Any proof?”

  “No,” Adriana sighed. “That’s the problem. My magazine just wants a puff piece about the restaurant. They’re not interested in funding me to dig deeper.”

  John nodded, his eyes flicking to the bar where Hassan sat, glaring at him.

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Writing for the magazine pays the rent,” Adriana shrugged, “and I get to eat in places like this.” She sipped her drink, then swirled the wine around in the glass before setting it down. She frowned at the table as if it had done something wrong. “But…”

  “But?”

  Adriana lifted her chin and gazed into his eyes.

  “I feel I’m selling myself short.”

  John nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact.

  “And I think he beats his maid.”

  John frowned. He glanced over at Hassan again.

  “He looks like a bully.”

  “Hmmm.” Adriana swirled her glass around again, watching the ice cube slide around the glass.

  John took a large mouthful of his drink, swallowed, then set it back down on the table.

  “Sometimes in life, you have to decide. Take the safe route and perhaps live with regret about what might have been, or take a chance and do what your gut tells you is right.”

  “Have you done that, John?”

  John looked away. He didn’t answer for a moment.

  “More often than you would imagine,” he replied quietly.

  12

  The sashimi arrived, and as the drinks flowed, so did the conversation, both of them relaxing as the alcohol removed their inhibitions. Adriana told John about her previous life in Lisbon, her breakup with Miguel, and about her dreams of being an investigative journalist. John listened attentively, carefully deflecting her questions about him, turning them back on her. He was reluctant to talk about himself—not just yet. There was too much to hide, too much to feel guilty about.

  But as the evening wore on, he warmed to the beautiful woman sitting opposite him. She was witty, intelligent, and a pleasure to look at. He felt perhaps, just perhaps, he could allow himself to open up to another woman—to allow someone to take the place of Charlotte in his life—but he had to go slowly. They say time heals all wounds, but his were buried deep, and he wanted them to stay that way for the time being.

  By the end of the evening, they were very comfortable in each other’s company, relaxed and happy. John had a good buzz going from the gin, and Adriana giggled and laughed, her fingertips brushing his whenever she emphasized a point. They had forgotten all about Hassan, the restaurant now full of diners and all the stools lining the bar occupied by people having a drink or waiting for tables. />
  Whatever their personal opinions about Hassan, the restaurant and bar were actually great. The Japanese food was exquisite, and the atmosphere inside helped by the DJ and the presence of many of the beautiful people who made this part of Bangkok home—smartly dressed expats, elegant Thai high society figures, and the occasional tourist. The restaurant could have occupied a place in any of the major cities in the world and was far removed from the sleazy pickup joints and beer bars found lining the streets.

  Their meal over, John called for the bill, only to be told by the waitress it had been taken care of.

  “I suppose I should thank him,” said Adriana, looking around the bar for Hassan. They spotted him at a corner table, huddled in conversation with two Thai men. He didn’t look happy, but when he caught sight of Adriana standing, he got up, fixed a smile on his face, and walked over.

  “Leaving so soon?”

  “Yes, I have work tomorrow, but thank you so much, Hassan. The food was wonderful.”

  Hassan leaned forward and took her hand in both of his.

  “It’s my pleasure. Please come again anytime.” Still holding Adriana’s hand, he scowled at John. “Mr. Hayes.”

  “Mr. Rahman,” John nodded.

  Adriana pulled her hand free.

  “Goodnight, Hassan. I’ll let you know when the article comes out.”

  Hassan looked back at Adriana, the smile returning to his face. “Goodnight, Adriana. If there is ever anything you need, anything,” he winked, “please call me. I’m always available.”

  Adriana smiled and made a show of taking John’s arm and pulling him close.

  “Thank you.”

  John nodded again at Hassan and moved toward the exit.

  They walked along the wooden pathway, past the Koi ponds, toward the street. John turned to thank the tall European girl at the entrance for her cheerful service and from the corner of his eye saw Hassan standing where they had left him, staring after them.