Holiday in Cambodia

by Laura Jean McKay

  PLEASE TAKE OFF YOUR GLASSES.

  ‘Shut up. I need to find my wife. She’s been drugged. Bev?’

  PLEASE TAKE OFF YOUR GLASSES.

  ‘Bev!’

  ‘Here, I’m here. I just took my glasses off. The experience is over, honey.’

  ‘Hello, welcome back …’

  CARA AND BEVERLY. NICKNAME: BEV.

  ‘Cara and Bev. How was your trip to …’

  PLEASURE PHNOM PENH.

  ‘Pleasure Phnom Penh?’

  ‘We loved it, didn’t we, babe?’

  ‘Except for the fact that you were drugged and kidnapped and –’

  ‘So you got the full experience? That’s great. Now, your bill is there on your guide. Just look through and press accept.’

  ‘Hotel, tram, sweet … Wait, we didn’t buy a live pig.’

  ‘Oh. Yes, I did, babe.’

  ‘You bought a pig? A whole pig? Bev … you don’t like animals.’

  ‘It was different when it was standing in front of me.’

  ‘Where was it?’

  ‘I let it go out the back of the airport.’

  ‘Look at how much it cost! Why would you do that?’

  ‘It was just trotting along beside us and I said, “Has it ever been off the leash?”’ They said, “No, it grew in a vat and now it stays on the leash.” I asked if we could free it and they said, “It’s your pig.”’

  ‘Because you bought it.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘Well, they unclipped it and the pig didn’t know what to do. It just stood there. The man told me to give it a little smack. That seemed mean but I did it, just a little one. The pig jumped forward and I think it caught sight or maybe smell of the airstrip and all that space.’

  ‘But why would you buy a pig?’

  ‘I wanted to see what it looked like. What’s the matter, babe?’

  ‘Nothing. I just … what did it look like?’

  ‘It was running.’

  ‘Running?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  LIKE NO ONE IS WATCHING

  ‘Don’t you want a drink or something first?’ asked Meg.

  ‘What? No, listen …’ Steve was leaping around at one end of the six-seater dinner table where Tully and some other friend of Meg’s, William, sat. Steve wore skinny jeans over long legs and an oversized dress shirt. He looked like a TV Robin Hood. ‘So I meet this girl at Chelsea –’ Steve began.

  ‘You met her there? Is she a waitress or something?’ asked Tully. Her nails were polished to a high pink that showed that there had been a weekend.

  ‘I hate that place,’ said William.

  ‘What, Chelsea?’

  ‘I hate the food.’

  ‘They’ve completely changed the menu, Will. Completely. How long has it been since you’ve been there?’ William shrugged. ‘Well, it’s completely different now.’

  ‘So you took this girl to Chelsea?’ Meg prompted Steve.

  ‘Yes! And –’

  ‘Is she a waitress?’ Tully asked again.

  ‘No,’ Steve said.

  ‘He met her at work. At a conference? She works for a local organisation. Which one, Steve?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  Meg tsked at him. ‘Anyway, some organisation where she’s the interpreter. And she’s got an MA in business or something and she’s using the interpreter’s job as a way in. Now, Steve.’ She flipped her palms up as though handing him a platter.

  ‘How do you remember all that?’

  ‘I remember everything you say, Steve.’

  William looked right at Meg. She gave him a friendly smile and he looked away.

  ‘Okay.’ Steve took a breath. ‘So we meet at Chelsea, in the front bar.’

  ‘Wait, sorry Steve, are you sure you don’t want a drink?’ Meg asked.

  ‘Yes, yes, alright,’ he said. Meg disappeared through the door to the kitchen.

  ‘I can still hear, keep talking,’ she called. Steve opened his mouth.

  ‘Steve, sorry, but why did you decide to meet her at Chelsea?’ asked Tully. She tipped the rest of her drink into her mouth and rattled the leftover ice at the kitchen. ‘Me too, hon.’

  ‘William?’ Meg called.

  ‘Because Chelsea have completely changed their menu,’ William said to Tully.

  ‘William?’ Meg stuck her head through the door.

  ‘No, I won’t. Oh wait, this is going to be long, isn’t it? Better get me another.’

  Meg disappeared again. She returned moments later with fresh drinks and distributed them.

  ‘Are we right? Do we have everything?’ Steve watched them intently. ‘Anyone need to pee-pee?’

  ‘I could go,’ said Tully.

  ‘Honey, don’t!’ Meg laughed at her.

  ‘We meet up at Chelsea,’ Steve enunciated, ‘because it’s the only place I can think of at the time.’ He looked sternly around the table. ‘Because this girl, I have to say, is really, really good-looking.’ Tully cleared her throat. ‘You have something to say, Tullamarine?’

  ‘What I meant was, how did you get to that point? Before Chelsea. Did you just ask her to go out with you at the conference or what? Give us some background, Stevo.’

  ‘God, I don’t know.’

  ‘I do,’ said Meg. ‘You were at the conference – you just told me about it at brunch on the weekend, Steve.’

  ‘Yeah, but what comes next is so much more –’

  ‘You were at the conference and you saw this Khmer chick –’

  ‘This beautiful woman,’ William interjected.

  ‘Right, you saw her, she didn’t have a name tag and you –’

  ‘That’s right, and I say, “Did you sneak in here?” And she says, “Yes I did, it just looked so exciting.” So we start talking. Perfect English. Better than mine. I’m like, “Where did you grow up?” and she says, “Boeung Keng Kong.”’ He named the suburb they were in. ‘Of course, her family moved out when all the undesirables came.’ Meg, William and Tully laughed appreciatively.

  ‘So she lives with her family?’ Tully asked around a cube of ice.

  ‘She lives with her family, and I ask her what she does at nights.’

  ‘That’s a bit forward for a good Khmer girl, isn’t it?’

  ‘I know, right? But I’m pretty much ready to marry her by now.’

  ‘You didn’t say that at brunch on Sunday,’ accused Meg.

  ‘Didn’t I?’

  ‘You were very excited, though. I was almost jealous. That you’d found someone so great, I mean.’ Meg gave a panting sort of a laugh. ‘I mean, where’s my Khmer dream dude?’

  ‘Would you go out with a Khmer guy?’ Tully asked.

  ‘We’ve talked about this. It doesn’t matter where he’s from –’

  ‘Just how big his cock is,’ Tully supplied.

  ‘Meg’s right, who cares? With this girl –’

  ‘What’s her name?’ asked Tully. Steve hesitated.

  ‘Da.’

  ‘Da? Did you make that up?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Isn’t that the name of your cleaner?’ asked Meg.

  ‘How the hell do you know the name of his cleaner?’ William demanded. He’d finished his drink. Meg shrugged.

  ‘I borrowed her once when ours was sick.’

  Tully groaned.

  ‘Oh god, Jorani, Jo Jo, our cleaner, did you tell them what she did the other day, Meg?’

  ‘Can I please, please, please, please, please finish my story?’ Steve asked. ‘Then we can talk about Jo Jo and all the other whatevers you want. Can I? Please? Thank you. So … fuck, I’ve forgotten.�
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  Meg took a breath but William spoke first.

  ‘She lives with her folks and you want to know what she gets up to of an evening.’

  ‘Thanks. And she says, “Karaoke.” “Karaoke? Who with?” “No one,” she says, “I just sing by myself.” So I say, and this is stupid, I say, “Like no one’s watching?” but in that moment it’s the perfect thing because she says, “That’s exactly how I sing.” And we stare at each other, like …’ Steve let out a sigh. ‘Like it’s important. Then this idiot Alison –’

  ‘Didn’t you go out with Alison?’ Meg asked.

  ‘Once. Alison calls out that we have to go back in to the conference. Fuuhck, right? Me and this girl –’

  ‘Da,’ said Tully.

  ‘Right, Da, we’re going to different conference rooms, there’s a billion people, she’s hot as toast, I’m going to lose her. So I say quickly, “What-are-you-doing-Tuesday-night-because-I’d-like-to-take-you-out-for-dinner-at-7-p.m.-do-you-know-Chelsea?”’

  ‘This was last, what, Thursday?’ Tully asked. ‘Why not meet her sooner? Friday?’

  ‘I don’t know. I didn’t want it to seem sordid.’

  ‘Friday does seem sordid,’ agreed Tully.

  ‘So Tuesday, Tuesday, nice innocent holdy-hands Tuesday at Chelsea. “Who’s Chelsea?” she asks like she’s jealous and I start to explain but she’s laughing. “I know where Chelsea is!” she says. “I was just kidding.”’

  ‘Ah, the lady doth have a sense of humour,’ said William. ‘Very important.’

  ‘Essential!’

  ‘Today’s Tuesday,’ Tully told him.

  ‘Right. I’ve just come from there. Get this –’

  ‘Wait, I really do need to pee now. Sowwy, Stevo.’

  ‘And I need another drink,’ said William. ‘Anyone else?’

  ‘Yes please.’ Meg held out her glass. ‘Tulls too.’ William gathered the glasses and went into the kitchen. Meg and Steve could hear him cracking ice.

  ‘Phew,’ breathed Steve. ‘You wouldn’t believe.’

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘Sure, sure. I mean, yeah! This is a ripper. You just wait.’

  ‘Well, as long as you’re okay. I mean, you seemed to really like this one.’

  ‘This one!’

  William came back into the room balancing four drinks.

  ‘I’m afraid to start on another topic,’ he said and laughed.

  ‘Don’t,’ said Steve. The toilet flushed and the pipes squealed through the walls. They waited with their eyes rolled up, listening to the bathroom tap turn on then off then on again. Something plastic dropped and rolled along the tiled floor. Seconds passed. A door opened and Tully walked into the room with new dark pencil lines around her eyes. Steve watched her sit down. Then he smiled and took a sip of his drink. ‘This is a ripper,’ he said. ‘So I arrive at Chelsea.’

  ‘Did you wear that?’ Tully asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Steve and Tully stared at each other.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘She’s there at Chelsea when I arrive. I can see her through the window.’

  ‘She showed up!’ said William.

  ‘She shows up and does she. She’s wearing this tight, tight skirt. But traditional, you know?’

  ‘A sampot,’ Meg supplied. ‘We got them made for that wedding, Tulls.’

  ‘Oh yeah, I trashed mine dancing with the druncles.’ She turned to William confidentially. ‘The druncles are what we call uncles at weddings. There’s always an uncle and he’s always drunk yet, somehow, an amazing dancer, and he’s always the last one standing. A druncle.’

  ‘Thank you, Tully,’ said Steve.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Tully,’ agreed William.

  ‘So she looks perfect in this skirt and underneath her jacket is a normal singlet so she’s very traditional down the bottom, modern on top.’

  ‘Shouldn’t it be the other way around?’ asked William. Steve looked at him blankly. ‘I mean shouldn’t it be the other way around?’

  ‘You’re not getting any more gin if you’re going to be like that,’ warned Meg.

  ‘I’ll be good.’

  ‘Doubt it.’

  Steve took a sip of his drink and swished it through his teeth.

  ‘And a handbag. She has this vinyl handbag by the leg of her chair, and when she stands to meet me she goes around it.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a cultural thing, with feet,’ said Tully. ‘Or is that Thailand?’

  ‘It’s weird but all I’m noticing is how we get along. We talk about so many things I can’t even tell you. Well, okay, here’s something: do you know that in some parts of Cambodia if a boy baby cries his mother will put his penis in her mouth to calm him down?’ Tully dribbled some drink down her chin.

  ‘They put their what in their what now?’

  ‘I know. What a country. So our pizza arrives and –’

  ‘How could you eat talking about that?’

  ‘That story …’ said Meg with a frown.

  ‘Oh, she’s heard all the stories. She used to travel with her translation work and she’s seen the lot. But she’s never dated a guy, so it’s a big deal for her to be out with me. She tells me that. She’s twenty-four,’ he added admiringly. ‘We’re eating this great pizza and talking and I’m thinking I’ve never felt this comfortable and excited and attracted and interested in a girl, ever.’

  ‘Except for with your dear friends,’ Tully reminded him.

  ‘You know what I mean. So we move into the back bar with the couches and lamps and I’m sitting, like, here,’ he dragged his chair close to Meg’s, ‘and you’re her and she has her handbag propped up between us. She’s laughing because I’ve said something and I want to be closer to her. So I lift up her handbag and all this stuff falls out the bottom.’

  ‘What stuff?’ William whispered. ‘What stuff?’

  ‘Makeup. Wallet. A Sprite bottle. Her bag has a big hole in it, like it’s been eaten by something. I can see she’s really upset about it so I take her chin in my hand and tell her I’ll buy her a new one. She nods but when I reach for the Sprite bottle she screams, screams, and covers her mouth. I snatch my hand away, ask her what’s wrong, and she says, “Nothing, nothing.” “Why don’t you want me to touch the bottle?” I ask, “What’s in there?” She says, “Nothing. Just protection.” “Protection? From what?” “Jealousy,” she says. “But what is it?” I ask. The bottle’s just lying there between us on the couch. She won’t say anything for ages and finally she says, “To throw on her face if I get jealous.” “Whose face?” I ask. And she says, “Anyone’s.”’ Steve leaned back in his chair and laughed.

  ‘Steve. You’re not serious,’ said Meg.

  ‘I am completely one hundred per cent deadset serious. No bullshit.’

  ‘Well that’s … Did you call the police?’

  ‘No, I didn’t call the police. The poor girl’s –’

  ‘The poor girl?’ said Tully. ‘She’s a killer. She could throw it on Meg, melt her face like a candle.’

  ‘Why would she throw it on Meg?’ asked Steve. ‘Anyway, we talked it through.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘We talked it through and she just, the poor thing, she just got some bad, some very bad advice about dating.’

  ‘But she had the stuff,’ Tully insisted.

  ‘Ah, you get that stuff from the markets for a dollar. They’ve all got it. Probably.’ He turned to William, who shrugged.

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t dated anyone since I don’t know.’

  ‘Well, that’ll teach you,’ Tully said to Steve.

  ‘What?’

  ‘To stick to your own kind. Find a nice girl like …’ she gestured at Meg.

  ‘Don’t
you have some big meeting?’ asked Meg.

  ‘Oh gawd. Yes, first thing tomorrow I have to fire that guy for sleeping. He’s been working for us during the day and as a guard for Suffer the Little Children at night. It’s not on. Well, g’night, Will, Meg, g’night, kisses. Thanks for entertaining us with your tales of woe and danger, Stevo. I better drink some water.’ Tully tripped on a chair leg and stumbled. She recovered to do a running man across the tiles and out of the room.

  ‘My pleasure,’ Steve said. ‘My pleasure.’ The three sat in silence.

  ‘I guess I should go. Too,’ mumbled William. Meg stood.

  ‘Will you be okay to drive?’

  ‘Oh, yeah. My bike drives itself home.’

  ‘Suzuki Smash, is it?’ Steve asked, standing too. ‘Bit of an old man’s bike, but good. Reliable. Nice to see you, Wills.’

  William looked up at them and pulled himself to standing. Meg came around and kissed him suddenly on the cheek. He turned his face to offer her the other side and she laughed and kissed him again.

  ‘So I’ll see you …?’

  ‘Soon, William. Soon.’

  Meg sat down next to Steve. Their chairs were still close.

  ‘That story,’ said Meg.

  ‘That’s what I forgot to say. Oh, well I’ll just tell you.’ He sat up in his chair. ‘So we’re still sitting like this and she’s telling me the whole story.’

  ‘That story.’

  ‘I know, right? I take her face in my hands again like this,’ Steve made a V with his thumb and forefinger and fit it around Meg’s chin. His fingers went right up to her eyelashes. ‘And I say to her, “Don’t do it again.”’ Then I kiss her. Like this.’ He craned his neck and kissed Meg very deliberately on the lips, then he pulled back to look at her.

  ‘Don’t do it again,’ said Meg.

  ‘That’s what I said.’ He leaned in. Meg jolted her head back and her chin fell from his fingers.

  ‘That story you told.’

  ‘Forget it. Me and that girl? It was a kiss goodbye. Nothing more between us.’

  ‘The story about the penises.’

  Steve smirked and sat back.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘It was my story. I told it to you on Sunday.’ Steve shrugged. ‘It was my story that I told to you,’ Meg insisted. He stared a moment, then burst into laughter. It lasted until Meg knocked her glass of gin and tonic and it splashed over Steve with a hiss.