“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to think as a free man yet. I feel a bit strange.”
“I understand, matey. It’s no problem. You don’t have to say anything. I know Steve, don’t worry.” Sawat pressed a button on the CD player on the dashboard and the music of The Commitments blasted loudly around the car. We drove the rest of the way to Patong without talking. Sawat sang along to the music, and guess what! Yep! He was a great singer. He really was a man who had it all.
We parked in the underground car park and walked up the stairs to the Jungceylon centre. Sawat spent more money on clothes for me in that one shopping trip than I had spent in my entire life. It was all designer and labelled stuff and it was so nice to get out of the orange jumpsuit. Sawat told me that he had already had the rest of my clothes and my suitcase delivered to the new hotel that he had put me into. I really wanted to thank Sawat for all his kindness, but I really do think I was in a bit of a state of shock. A lot had happened that day and I really just wanted to be on my own and relax and think about everything. I think Sawat understood how I was feeling. We ate a snack in the open air central part of the Junceylon centre, near to the ship, and then Sawat drove me back to Karon Beach. Sawat had very kindly booked me into the Moevenpick Resort & Spa, a beautiful 5 star hotel. It was the perfect place to relax and just what I needed. For the rest of the day I just relaxed in my room or wandered around the hotel grounds. I made use of the swimming pool, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I felt troubled about something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Engulfed by a sadness that I couldn’t even explain to myself, let alone you the reader.
The next morning I woke up at 7:30am and I was happy; happy and relaxed. A good night’s sleep had done me the world of good. I showered and dressed and went for breakfast. Today I could appreciate how lovely the hotel and grounds really were. It was a beautiful day. A Mynah bird sat on the handrail about five feet away from me. I offered it some toast and, bit by bit, it edged closer to me as its confidence grew, cocking it’s head from side to side, as if it was assessing my character, before deciding whether to trust me or not. In the end it did and took bits of toast from between my fingers, before flying to the top of a palm tree and sitting in the top fronds watching me from the safer distance. Sawat wasn’t going to be collecting me from the hotel until 10:30am, so I had just over two hours to wait. I decided to make use of the swimming pool again, before I showered and changed and waited in reception for Sawat. I didn’t really know what I was expecting from the memorial service. The special thing for me about today was going to pay my respects to Pin, my beautiful Flower Girl. Fon, the sexy lady from the bar on the night of my arrest, told me that Pin’s ashes were kept in a box, or ‘little house’ held in the wall of the temple. It was important for me to say a proper goodbye before I went back to England. I smiled as I thought about the kindness of Sawat and all the other people who had contributed the money to make the memorial service possible. Sawat said that it was also a farewell party for me, but I suspect it was more out of their love and respect for Pin.
For the second time in two days Sawat was on time and picked me up at 10:30am on the dot in his impressive Mercedes. We drove the short distance to the old temple and as we approached I could see that it had been decorated in readiness for a party. There were marquees in the grounds, a fun fair and lots of balloons. I could see that there were a lot of people already there. The place was packed. I was slightly overwhelmed with happiness. When we got out of Sawat’s car everyone clapped and came to wai to me or shake hands. The Phuket Gazette was there taking photos and there was a TV crew. There were so many happy smiling faces and a real feeling of goodwill. There were food stalls supplying a buffet. A big stage had been erected at the side of the temple with huge speakers on each side of it. I had no idea just how big the memorial service and farewell party was going to be. I saw a lot of the friends that I had made on my holiday. I saw Lek and Nit, the girls from the bar in the same cul-de-sac as the Whale Resort Hotel. They came up and kissed me and teased me that I was a big butterfly man, whatever that means. I saw Phim, the girl who taught me all about Special Massage, and the rest of the girls from the massage shop. Poo, the girl who rented the motorbike to me was there. Nui, the older woman from the bar where I had first seen The Flower Girl was there. I smiled as I remembered her calling me a Cheap Charlie. Fon and all the girls from the bar in which I was arrested were all there. I also saw a lot of people who I had seen around, but didn’t really know. But they were all my friends now, as far as I was concerned. Mr. Bernard Jackson from the British Embassy was there. The police officers who arrested me were there and a lot of the prison officers were there. The lady from the Seven Eleven shop, who had sold me all the yogurt, was there. I saw the prison Governor and, best of all, I saw Aa and Bee. They were both chained to prison guards, but Aa and Bee were both in sparkling evening gowns that displayed a bit too much cleavage. Aa was the tallest Thai person I had ever met and, in her high heels, she looked every inch the drag queen, all 6’7” of her. I know that, if Aa ever reads this, then she will hate me for calling her a drag queen, but she had gone slightly over the top on the makeup. As usual, she was the star of the show and camped it up for everyone’s entertainment. I stood in the shade of one of the marquees with Sawat and we had an iced cold bottle of beer from one of the big plastic chest boxes that were packed with ice and drinks. Sawat told me that all the food and drinks and entertainment had been paid for by everyone in Karon Beach, who had collected money to pay for it all.
At 11:00am we had to start the memorial service. Everyone gathered in front of the stage where a long row of monks sat. I recognised the old monk from Chalong temple and my friend the prison monk. The stage was covered with flowers and in front of the stage there was a shrine where people had been leaving lotus buds and lit candles and incense. I was told that I would be carrying Pin’s ashes from the temple wall to the stage for the service. I followed two young boy monks who took me to Pin’s ashes. I got on my knees on the ground and wai’d to her ashes house before I took it out. I opened the little metal door and Pin’s urn was inside. I was a bit saddened that it was just a plastic one and I decided that I would replace it with a silver one at some stage. I flicked away a spider that had decided to share Pin’s house and I carried her urn to the stage and presented it to the old monk from Chalong Temple. The monks prayed and chanted and blessed Pin and blessed everyone present. The service was beautiful and went on for an hour before the old monk took Pin back and put her back inside her house. Everyone else followed behind and carried all the flowers from the stage and left a mass of beautiful flowers and lit candles and incense in front of Pin’s little house. I would have called it a box or a hole in the wall with a little door, but the Thai people all called it a house and I liked the idea that Pin had her very own house, so that is why I also called it Pin’s house.
By the time we had walked back to the marquees for food and drinks a band had replaced the monks on stage and the party started. It was loud and it was colourful and it was a lot of fun. As well as the band there were dancers and there was a disco and for the rest of the day and well into the night people danced and ate and drank and laughed and hugged me and said goodbye. I think it was the best day of my life and I felt very humbled and very honoured. I also felt very close to Pin and I knew that she was there somewhere enjoying the party too.
After it got dark, fireworks were set off and big Chinese sky lanterns were lit and released to climb high into the night sky. Sawat had vanished with some girl and I was feeling tired and slightly drunk, so I left the party in full swing at about 10pm. I took a tuk-tuk back to my hotel, but the very nice driver wouldn’t accept any money from me. I knew that I would be going back to England the next day. My two week holiday had turned into nearly two months and, to say the least, I had had a few ups and downs. I had sort of fallen in love, not just with The Flower Girl, but also with Thai
land itself. I showered and, with the music from my farewell party still banging in my head, I went to bed and fell asleep.
Chapter 17
An Extraordinary Journey
Sawat picked me up at 7:30am to take me to the airport. It felt like a lifetime ago that I was being driven over these hills, when I first arrived in Phuket, and it had been quite a journey. When I ask myself would I change anything I would say, yes. I would change all of it. When you think about it, it wasn’t a great experience. I had had sex with two bar girls and a girl from a massage parlour. I had been beaten up by a big fat old German bloke and the police. I had burnt myself so much I blistered and terrified myself on a motorbike that I couldn’t ride. I had fallen in love with a ghost and had my heart broken. I had shit myself in public and been arrested for a murder that I didn’t commit. I had been in prison and my best friend in prison was a ladyboy. OK, I know it wasn’t all bad and I had experienced something quite amazing as well on this journey, but I am just saying that if I asked myself would I change anything then the answer is most definite, Yes, I would change it.
Sawat shook hands with me outside Phuket International Airport and some more press were there to take my photograph.
“We are a lot alike, Sawat.”
Sawat looked me slowly up and down from head to toe and back again.
“Yeah? I don’t really think so Steve.”
“We are. We are both lost souls, with hearts that haven’t found what they are looking for.”
“Good luck Steve. Try and stay out of trouble. Do you still want to know the secret?”
“What secret?”
“The secret about women!”
“Yes. I would love to know.”
“But you can’t tell anyone, Steve. OK?”
“OK.”
“Well, the secret about women is that there are only two types. The type who likes a bad boy and the type who likes a gentleman. You just have to spot which type she is very early on and then play the part. You can’t fail, Steve.”
“How do I spot which type they are?”
“It’s not so hard when you get into it, Steve!”
I flew from Phuket to Bangkok and had a two hour wait for the Thai Airways flight to London. When I got to Bangkok airport there was some more press people taking my photo. I saw some more press people photographing some other older bloke, but he seemed to be enjoying it a lot more than me. He was about 50 and looked, well, dodgy. I was glad that he wasn’t in the same prison as me. I left them all to it and wandered around the airport. I decided to buy myself a book to read on the long flight home. I chose The Thai Dragon by Guy Lilburne. I had never heard of him, but the cover looked interesting. It was the story of a drunken Irish detective investigating a murder in Thailand, so I thought I’d give it a go. I was really happy that I did and I started to make good headway into the book before I even got on the plane. I had a window seat. The seat next to me was empty and the older, rough looking bloke, who was having his photograph taken at the airport, was sat in the aisle seat. I assumed that the airline had decided to keep the ex-prisoners together. Maybe they thought it would be easier to keep an eye on us, but I had no intention of ever getting into trouble, ever again. Although my seat neighbour didn’t seem overly friendly I thought that I would try and make polite conversation.
“Hello, my name is Steve” I said, offering my hand.
“So” he said, ignoring my hand.
“I saw them taking your photo at the airport. Were you in prison too?”
“No. I take it that you were!”
“Yes, in Phuket.”
“Oh! Fucking great.”
The man took out a little notebook computer and started typing. I guess he wasn’t in the mood for talking at the moment. It was going to be a thirteen hour flight, so I settled down into my seat and got as comfortable as I could and drifted off the sleep. I was woken to eat something and then slept a little bit more. After three hours I was dying to go to the toilet. I stood up and my typing friend pretended that he hadn’t seen me waiting to get past him.
“Excuse me. Can I get past, please?”
The man tutted and sighed and then looked me up and down.
“If you are going to keep running to the toilet every five minutes then it might be easier if I have the window seat, so you don’t keep disturbing me.”
“This is the first time I have disturbed you and we have been on the flight for three hours. I’m very sorry, but I need the toilet.”
The man tutted and sighed again and got up from his seat. When I got back I apologized again and I got my book from my bag and sat in my seat and carried on reading. I was reading for a while when the man said,
“Is it a good book?”
“Yes, it’s a great story. It’s about an Irish detective investigating a murder in…..”
“I know what it’s about. I wrote it. I was just wondering if you were enjoying it.”
“Yes, I am. Thank you.”
I looked inside the back cover and saw a photo of the author, Guy Lilburne. I looked at the man again. He looked a bit older and a bit more scruffy than the man in the photo.
“Are you sure this is you?”
“Of course I’m sure.” He took out his wallet and showed me a bank card with his name on it.
“Wow! Can I have your autograph please, Mr. Lilburne?”
He signed the book for me.
“So, what were you in prison for?”
“Murder, but I didn’t do it. It is a long story.”
“It’s a long flight” said Guy checking his watch. “What’s your story?”
“Where do I start?”
“At the beginning.”
I started at the beginning and told my story. Guy seemed to like it. He spent most of the time laughing.
“It’s a great story” he said when I had finished, just as we started the decent into London.
“Do you believe me?”
“Yes, I do. How could you make that up?”
“Well, it’s all true. Just as I have told you.”
“You should write the story. It would make a great book.”
“I’m not a writer. I just work in a plastic mouldings factory.”
“I’ll write it for you and we can split the royalties.” He fished out his wallet from his back pocket and handed me a card with a picture of the Thai Dragon cover on the front and his contact details on the back.
“Send me an email sometime and we’ll sort something out” he smiled.
Fate had intervened in my life again.
When I got home I was expecting dad to make a fuss of me, but he didn’t. We shook hands and he hugged me and patted me on the back and then made me a cup of tea. He wasn’t interested in hearing about my Thailand adventure. He was just happy that I hadn’t come home with a Thai Bride or had a surprise in the knicker department with a ladyboy.
I went to my room feeling a bit deflated. I pulled out the business card that Guy Lilburne had given me on the flight and I sent him an email. Three days later I got a reply and a copy of a contract offering me half the royalties of any book about my story payable every four months after publication. I printed it, signed it, scanned it and sent it back.
Two days later I got another email from Guy telling me that he had booked two rooms for us in Best Western Premier Shaftesbury Kensington for three days because he needed to talk to me about my story in fine detail and make notes. I looked the hotel up on the internet and it looked fantastic. I was starting to get really excited about someone writing my story. I even had a title for it; ‘The Murder I didn’t Commit’.
Two days later I was back in London and checked into the hotel and over the next three days I was interviewed by Guy Lilburne about my story. He laughed all ove
r again and made lots of notes. I told him about the title.
“I thought we could call it ‘The Murder I didn’t Commit’.”
“That sounds like you did commit the others.”
“What others?”
“You are not the sharpest tool in the toolbox, Steve!”
“What about ‘A Holiday in Prison’!”
“The Flower Girl” said Guy.
“Wow! I like that. The Flower Girl.”
Guy interviewed me in fine detail about my story and I could tell that he had actually been a real life detective for 30 years, even if I hadn’t already read that about him. The next three days were a lot of fun and, besides talking about my story, we went out around London. On the last day Guy said;
“We need a big finish for the book.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“A big, dramatic finish. It would be great if we could say that you had seen The Flower Girl again or, at the very least, we need something profound to say.”
I would have loved to have been able to give Mr. Lilburne a big dramatic finish. I would have loved to be able to say that I had seen Pin again, but it wouldn’t have been true. I did dream about her twice after I got back to England and the dreams made me very happy, because they felt real and we talked. Nothing dramatic. We just told each other how much we missed and loved each other. I think that the ending should be simple like my life. The book was published and I am getting money for it. I feel very humble that anyone would be interested in my story and I would thank you all for reading it.
Chapter 18
The Big Finish.
Well, this is an extra chapter with an important update. Maybe I should say sorry to all the people who have read the first edition of this book and won’t know about this update. Oh well, I hope someone tells them. Anyway, I have the Big Finish to tell you about. Well it’s a big finish for me anyway. Believe it or not, I am now a Buddhist Monk and I live and work in a little wooden built temple on the edge of a huge lake in Kanchanaburi. For those of you who don’t know, it is the same province in the west of Thailand where the Bridge over the River Kwai stands. The province borders Burma, or Myanmar as it is now called. I have visited the Bridge since I have been here and I have also visited the war graves of the Commonwealth Soldiers who fell here.
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