by Guy Lilburne
“It’s not going to make me sick is it? I can get quite queasy when I’m eating, if people talk about blood and guts.”
“No blood and guts. I promise” she smiled.
‘Oh good! A story about losing a leg with no blood and guts, which she is going to tell me over dinner’ I thought to myself. But I didn’t say anything. I had already decided against eating the lamb shank or anything else with bones in it. In fact, I was going to stay away from any meat dishes. Oh God! I wasn’t hungry anymore!
Anyway, we got to the restaurant after having one beer in the bar next door. I kept looking around the bar to see if anyone had noticed that my beautiful date only had one leg, but nobody seemed to be staring. Well, nobody else except me. She had a long slit up the side of her black dress, which showed off a perfectly formed real leg, but I couldn’t quite glimpse her false leg. The rest of her was perfect and beautiful and she was great company. She started to tell me the story of her missing leg in the bar and finished off the story in the restaurant. (If you are interested I just had soup and told her that I wasn’t hungry….Jayne had the lamb shank!)
Her story was a sad and tragic one, but she told it with good grace and good humour. Basically, she had only ever had one boyfriend and she had met him when she was 17 years old. He was three years older than her and he had a motorbike. One weekend they decided to go camping in Wales and, when they were driving over the Welsh mountains, a car had come speeding round the bend in front of them on the wrong side of the road and wiped them out. Her boyfriend died instantly and Jayne was in a coma for 2 months. They had to amputate her leg at the thigh. She told me that her boyfriend was the only man that she had ever had sex with. The accident was ten years ago and she had not had sex, or had a boyfriend, ever since. But now that she had sorted her mind out and understood her life, she thought that she might be ready to give life and, especially love, another try. I felt sorry for her and, as I listened, I couldn’t help but think it was going to be a big responsibility for her next boyfriend. I got the feeling that her heart was very delicate and she was vulnerable. I also couldn’t help thinking that I would like to take her home and have sex with her……….well I’ve never shagged a one-legged girl before, and she was pretty!
After the meal I asked Jayne if she wanted to come back to my house. I thought that she would decline, but she didn’t hesitate and she followed me back to my house in her car. After another glass of wine I suggested going to bed. She kissed me and nodded.
“Yes. I’d like that, but I might not be any good” she whispered.
“Can you manage the stairs, or shall I make a bed up on the floor down here?” I asked trying to sound caring and sympathetic.
“Of course I can manage the stairs!”
We got into the bedroom and we started to undress each other.
“Do you want me to leave my leg on, or take it off?” she asked as she stood in front of me with just her bra and panties on. I thought about the options and couldn’t stop myself from knocking on her false leg with my knuckles. I didn’t really know what the etiquette was for shagging a one legged girl!
“Maybe better to leave it on.”
“Okay.”
I have to say that once we were on the bed we had a great shagging session and we had sex for most of the night in as many positions as her leg deficit would allow. But, by the time morning came, I knew it was all over. We just wanted different things….she wanted us to see each other again and I didn’t! We started to get up and get dressed.
“When can I see you again?” she asked.
“I’ll let you know.”
“Can’t you let me know now?”
“I’ll have to check first. I’m busy. I’ve got some stuff to do?”
“Are you ever going to see me again?”
“I can’t really plan that far ahead in my line of work, Jayne.”
“You don’t want to see me again? Do you?”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Is it because of my leg?”
“Which one?”
“The missing one!”
“No. Not at all” I lied.
“You made me feel like a real woman last night. For the first time since the accident you made me feel complete again. I had forgotten how good life can be and you made me fall in love with you before we even met. And now you are going to break my heart! You are the first man who has ever seen me naked. I gave myself to you and now you are throwing me away!”
“Well, when you say it like that it sounds bad. I thought we were friends and I have your number. I’ll call you one day.” I tried smiling, but it’s hard to smile at someone who is crying.
“You won’t call me. You just used me. I feel stupid now.”
“Sorry!”
Jayne got dressed and left. I never called her again and I never saw her again. When I have told people this story they usually shake their heads or tut in disgust, but I don’t think I did a bad thing. I think I was sort of doing my bit for the disabled. I mean, look at what I did. I got her back into mainstream shagging after over a decade of nothing…..and she enjoyed it. I really liked Jayne and she had lots of great qualities. She just came up a bit short in the leg department. Call me old fashioned, but I like my women with all the bits that they are supposed to have. Basically, one of everything down the middle and two of everything down the sides.
Jayne was the last decent girl who I met. After her they all seemed to be getting fatter and uglier; which brings me back nicely to shagging The Loch Ness Monster in Gran Canaria.
I finished shagging her in the park and I started to walk back to my hotel. I left her bent over a child’s ride, puffing and panting and trying to pull her knickers up. I shouted ‘goodnight’ to her, but she didn’t answer. It was a warm night and as I walked along I couldn’t help thinking ‘How did I get to this?’ I had been a premier league shagger in my time. I was like the Alan Shearer of the shagging world….a top goal scorer! But as I got older I had dropped down the leagues and now I was playing non-league. The days of me scoring cracking goals every game were over. Maybe my shagging career was over! Maybe it was time to hang up my shagging boots! I was on holiday, but in Gran Canaria I was feeling miserable. I didn’t know it as I walked back to my hotel that night, sweating and smelling of chicken kebab kisses, but the next morning I was going to receive a phone call that would change my life forever.
Chapter Thirteen: Go East Old Man!
The ringing phone woke me up. It was only 8am and the sun had already made the balcony too hot to go out onto. I picked the phone up and pressed answer. I spluttered and coughed and tried to clear my throat enough to be able to speak.
“Hello” I managed the word on the second attempt.
“Mr Graham Roberts, please.”
I coughed and cleared my throat again. This sounded official!
“Speaking.”
“This is Mr Brown’s secretary. Hold the line please. I will put you through.”
Mr Brown was one of the big directors in my company. Why the hell would he be ringing me when I’m on holiday? I didn’t have to wait long to find out and I certainly didn’t have to worry. Mr Brown told me that my company was expanding into south-east Asia and they wanted to open up a chain of stores in Thailand. He wanted me to go and live in Thailand and oversee the project. I would be working very closely with an English speaking Thai lady.
“Can you be in my office at 9am tomorrow?” asked Mr Brown.
“I’m on holiday, Sir. I’m in Gran Canaria!”
“OK. We’ll make it tomorrow afternoon then. Give my secretary the flight details and I’ll have someone pick you up at the airport and bring you to my office.”
“OK” I said, as his secretary’s voice came back on the phone.
It was all arranged and sorted w
ithin a month. Work visa, accommodation, flights, my Thai contacts, my new job title and new salary, I even had a new car waiting for me when I got to Thailand. I was going to stay in a lovely new apartment in Bangkok for the next five years and I was going to be working very closely with Kitty, my Thai contact, who would be able to sort out any problems that I might have.
Kitty met me at the airport and I fell in love with her before we even spoke. Wow! What a smile. What perfect white teeth. What fantastic, beautiful brown eyes, so dark they were almost black. Beautiful, just beautiful, and she sounded so cute when she spoke in English.
I felt happy. Happier than I had done in a long time. My kids were grown up and married and I was starting a new adventure in ‘The Land of Smiles’. I found Bangkok overwhelming at first. The heat was oppressive and never ending. So was the traffic for that matter. If I didn’t have a driver I would get lost every day in this city. There were beautiful girls wearing tiny skirts everywhere. The food, sights and sounds were all very exotic. I had a nice Thai man come to teach me Thai for two hours each day and the lovely Kitty took care of everything else. She took me to all my business meetings and, after consulting with me, she would arrange whatever needed arranging. I felt guilty that she was only getting a fraction of my salary and she was doing all the work. In the evenings Kitty would often take me out to top restaurants and bars. Or sometimes we would just go out bowling or to the cinema and eat food from the stalls at the side of the road. It amazed me that, in this big modern city, hand carts and elephants shared the roads with brand new cars, buses, lorries and several million motorbikes.
A relationship blossomed between Kitty and I. It started off slowly and we fell in love. She moved into my apartment and we got engaged. I bought her a big diamond ring and I really loved her. I hoped it would last forever and I am sure that it would have done if I hadn’t accidentally fucked her sister (eight times in two days). It would have been alright, except that her little sister decided to confess everything to Kitty and Kitty was not prepared to accept that it was a one-off accident.
Well, I say accident because I didn’t mean for it to happen. Her little sister was called Peanut. She was in her early twenties and the sexiest thing that I had ever seen. She flirted outrageously with me for months. One weekend Kitty had to go to Hong Kong. Peanut came round to watch some DVD’s with me. She showered and sat next to me wearing nothing but a little white towel. Then she put her legs over my lap and after a while she raised her knee and I could see her pussy……I mean what on earth is a man supposed to do. I was the victim here….AGAIN. The story of my life!
It didn’t turn out all bad. When Kitty found out, she attacked me and tried to cave my head in with a bronze Buddha statue. When I was recovering in hospital I met a lovely nurse called Apple……Oh well, that’s another story I guess!
THE END
Lek’s Bar (A short story) by Guy Lilburne
I don’t know if it can ever be right to cover up for a murderer, but that’s what I did: it’s what we all did that day in Lek’s Bar. And to be honest, I haven’t lost any sleep over it. Blade had become a friend, maybe not a good one, but a friend none the less. I can’t say that I like all the things he ever did, but there were times when he makes everyone laugh and he was easy with his cash.
I had been coming to Thailand for years and I always knew that I would retire out here. I had decided a long time ago that I wouldn’t become one of those ex-pat drunks that prop up a bar all day, every day, but it just sort of happened. I made friends with a group of old guys and became part of the family. My name is Arthur Round, but my friends call me ‘Patch’, on account that I only have one eye and, rather than having a glass eye, I wear a patch. Back in England I was an accountant, but all that was a lifetime away now. I’m 68 years old, not that it matters! I could tell you where Lek’s Bar is, but the truth is it really doesn’t matter. It’s the same as a million other bars that you have seen in Thailand and anyway, Lek doesn’t want anyone to know.
Blade is the newest member of our little gang and we have only known him for a few months. Looking back, we should have probably guessed why his nickname is Blade. It was easy to guess why ‘One Legged Phil’ and ‘Vodka Dave’ were so called. But I’m not sure why ‘Old Bob’ is called Old Bob, because he is about the same age as the rest of us and at least 2 years younger than me!
Lek’s Bar is a little hole in the wall type of bar. Down one side is the bar and after dark it is lit up like a Christmas tree with hundreds of twinkling lights. On both sides of the bar the wall is covered with mirrors. It makes the bar look bigger, although mostly they are covered with old calendars, photos, football shirts and a poster of the King. At the back of the bar is a ‘free’ pool table, which is usually covered with pots and pans, handbags, bags of food and one of the girls sleeping on top of it. Behind the pool table is the toilet and kitchen, with a door leading out onto a rear soi. In front of the pool table are a few old wooden dining tables that had seen better days, where Lek served a good English breakfast. But we spent most of the days sitting at the high stools along the front, looking out onto the soi, watching the pretty girls and the street vendors. After dark we sat at the high stools along the bar.
Lek is in her 50’s and is still a very attractive woman. She bought the bar after a farang (foreigner) met her while she was working in another bar and fell in love with her. He married her and gave her all his money. Then she divorced him. She runs a good bar and likes to play rock and roll music and chart hits from the 1950’s and 60’s very loudly in the bar.
One Legged Phil is the original member of the group. He is Dutch and one of the most intelligent men I have ever met. He is tall and thin and has a mop of white hair. He has the look of a mad professor. Then there is Vodka Dave. He is English and, for as long as anyone can remember, nobody has ever understood a word he has ever said. He is drunk when he turns up at the bar in the morning and he carries on drinking Vodka in the bar all day. He usually falls asleep at the table two or three times a day and awakes to carry on drinking. He regularly falls off the stool and sleeps on the floor. Normally one of the girls will put a pillow under his head and clean up any cuts sustained from any falls. I was the next member of the gang to come along and then it was Old Bob, who is Norwegian, but speaks perfect English. He struggles with his weight and sweats a lot. He always wears huge oversized shorts and Hawaiian shirts because he thinks they make him look slim. Sometimes One Legged Phil will talk to him in Norwegian, if they want to slag off anyone who comes into the bar. I have also heard One Legged Phil speak to people in the bar in German, French, Spanish and of course Dutch. We spend most days discussing astonishing facts, which may not always be true. These days the kids would just check it out on Google on their I-pads or smart phones, but we can discuss for hours how many times someone was married, or how many films they made, or how many football teams they played for. We could also sing along to a line or two of any of the songs that we knew and could remember, if we weren’t too drunk.
It was only a few months ago when Blade walked into the bar for the first time. He is an American black guy. He is a Vietnam Vet and even now, well into his sixties, he is in good shape and looks pretty tough. Unlike One Legged Phil and myself, he still has all his body parts. When Blade walked in he made quite an entrance. He walked past us and stood in the middle of the bar with his hands on his hips. He looked around the place, as if he was considering buying it, before he broke into the broadest grin and spoke.
“My name is Blade. Can I buy you guys a drink?” His voice was deep and powerful and we all liked him immediately. He spent the rest of the day ringing the bar bell and buying everyone in the bar drinks. Blade was not short of money and he had a great laugh. At first we all thought that Blade was a great and refreshing addition to our gang, but we soon saw that Blade had a darker side and a temper that was frightening and dangerous.
It wasn
’t alcohol that changed Blade’s mood, but women. He became all macho and possessive. On his second day in Lek’s bar he picked a fight with some young guy, who was talking to one of the girls. The poor bloke hadn’t done anything wrong. He was just buying her drinks and laughing and joking with her. He was just about to pay her bar fine when Blade decided to step in and protect her honour, when there was no honour to protect. He got really nasty and started poking the guy in the chest. When the guy pushed him back Blade produced a knife with a flick of his wrist and slashed the guy across the face with it. We all gasped. It all happened out of nothing. Lek went berserk at Blade and shouted at him “I not want problem in bar. I not want you in bar anymore. You big problem.”
Which pretty much meant he was banned from the bar. But Blade changed back to ‘Mr. Nice Guy’ straight away and convinced the bloke that he thought he was going to harm the girl. He paid the bloke a wad of cash there and then and also paid Lek for the trouble. He gave the bar girl a big wad of cash too, in compensation for the loss of her customer. This was a story that was to repeat itself many times over the next few months; too many times!
“Unless somebody stops him, I think Blade will kill somebody one day” whispered One Legged Phil into my ear, after another similar episode.
Blade’s dark moods cast a shadow over the bar and, when he was around, it wasn’t the happy relaxed place that it used to be, but we tolerated it. I think we tolerated it because we didn’t know what else to do. It had become the daily topic of conversation and had taken over from any other astonishing facts, but I think in our hearts we all knew that something bad was going to happen. Another pattern started to emerge with Blade. He started to get rough with the girls too. On the one hand he was starting fights, thinking he was protecting them when they didn’t need protecting. Then he was paying their bar fines and was assaulting and hurting them. It was very clear to One Legged Phil, Old Bob and myself, (Vodka Dave missed most of everything that went on) that the only person the girls really needed protecting from was Blade.
