The Travel Mate

by Mark Green

  Thunk-thunk. The guard stamped both passports and handed them back. Barry nodded his thanks and led Jody away. They began to walk around the barrier into no man’s land.

  ‘Easy border crossing, fifteen hundred Baht …’

  ‘We’re good thanks buddy, no problem,’ said Barry, leading Jody at a casual walking pace.

  ‘Is a problem. You pay, for visa.’

  ‘What’s your name?’ said Barry, stopping.

  ‘Yamo-nak.’

  ‘Cool name! Nice to meet you, Yamo-nak.’ Barry offered his hand. Yamo-nak stepped closer to Barry, accepted his handshake, smiling.

  ‘You go on, Jody, I’ll meet you on the Cambodian side.’

  ‘You sure? The guide book said we don’t need to—’

  ‘We don’t, I’m just being sociable. Go with the others, I’ll meet you over there.’ Barry winked at her, then he turned to Yamo-nak. ‘You like to smoke?’

  ‘Is he okay?’ asked Victoria.

  Jody looked back at Barry, stood by the Thai border with the two guards and Yamo-nak. ‘He does this – befriends random folk. Reckons a smile and a smoke can diffuse most situations.’

  They watched as Barry accepted something from Yamo-nak, passing an unseen item back. Barry swung his backpack up off the ground and shrugged the straps over his shoulders. He waved goodbye to the guards and began ambling towards the Cambodian border control.

  ‘They’ve not shot him yet. That’s positive, I think.’ Jody turned away from no man’s land and shuffled forwards in the queue, as Gabby accepted her documents from the customs official in the kiosk and moved away.

  Maddie stepped up to the open window and slid her passport and twenty dollar fee across the desk.

  ‘That’s for a three-month visa.’

  Maddie turned to face Charlie, stood behind her shielding his eyes from the sun.

  ‘Yes …’

  ‘That what you want?’

  ‘Think so. Although it does feel a bit uncertain.’

  ‘That’s a good thing.’

  ‘Mmm …’ Maddie glanced towards the sound of an approaching flip-flop metronome. Barry shrugged the pack off his shoulders and swept Jody up in a bear hug, making her screech. ‘I made it back alive. So where’s my reward?’

  ‘Right here, baby.’ Jody wriggled around in his arms and pressed her lips against his. When they parted she drew back, studying his pupils. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Always. We had a laugh.’ He released her and glanced at the rest of the group. ‘Let’s go crazy in Cambodia!’

  • • •

  Memory Card 3. Pic 067

  ‘Homes built on stilted flood defence foundations, without help or intervention from the United Nations. Our elevation on the causeway road, looking across, yet down on this type of bricks-and-mortar abode. Developing world pragmatism, versus the Western-world kudos of a penthouse prism. These scandalous double standards should fill us with shame, but instead we in the West just shrug, and say we’re not to blame. Built to survive the rainy season, these simple homes rise above capitalist materialism. Forty years on from the famine and genocide, these amazing people hold their heads high with their Cambodian pride.’

  Barry eased back from the open window. He carefully wiped dust from the camera lens with a soft cloth, then stared out at the vast expanse of lush, green rice paddies zipping by. The relentless flatness occasionally interrupted by sporadic isolated clusters of single and two-storey buildings. ‘The fragility of life, eh …’ he murmured, flinching at Jody’s hand on his shoulder. He turned slowly, raising his eyebrows.

  ‘Alright?’ she asked, her eyes searching his.

  He nodded vacantly, gently squeezed her hand. He turned back to the window to absorb the heat and dusty aroma of natural vegetation, increasingly interspersed with exhaust fumes, mixing with wafts of decaying household rubbish and open sanitation drains that signified a growing density of dwellings and population. Barry continued to stare, a deep, uneasy quiet enveloping him. His camera stayed perched on his knee, always ready, spontaneously and guiltily so.

  • • •

  ‘Hotel?’ asked the driver as he steered the minibus to a stop at the side of the road, leaving the engine idling. He turned to peer at the travellers, memorising the accommodation they called out.

  ‘Tomato Guesthouse.’

  ‘Golden Land.’

  ‘Ganesha.’

  ‘Banan.’

  ‘Royal Hotel.’

  The driver nodded and clunked the minibus into gear, pulling out behind a scooter carrying two adults and two children, one of whom clutched a cage containing a live chicken.

  ‘Guess you don’t have anything sorted yet?’ asked Gabby.

  Maddie looked over and shook her head.

  ‘The Ganesha is a really sweet little place. We could see if they have a spare room, if you like?’

  ‘That would be great, thanks.’

  ‘Alternatively, there’s other places to try – all walkable,’ Charlie pitched in.

  Maddie shifted her gaze away from Gabby, out of the dusty window where dozens of overloaded scooters buzzed by. A familiar suffocating, acidic sensation began to creep into the back of her throat, chilling her stomach. She closed her eyes, took slow deep breaths.

  Gabby nudged Kao, who looked up from her guidebook. She watched Maddie squeeze her hands into fists, slowly releasing them and stretching her fingers, repeating in time with her slow, deliberate breaths.

  Kao reached out, placed her hand lightly on Maddie’s shoulder. ‘We help you …’

  Maddie opened her eyes with a start, her fists still clenched. She shrank back from Kao’s touch. ‘Will be okay.’ Maddie nodded, her red puffy eyes darting away as she began to hyperventilate.

  ‘Stop – please stop!’ yelled Gabby.

  The brakes squealed the minibus to a halt at a busy crossroad, amidst beeping horns and rasping motorcycle engines. Kao crouched beside Maddie, allowing Gabby to squeeze in behind her and yank the sliding door open.

  ‘Okay?’ asked the driver, hurrying out of his seat.

  ‘Our friend, not well. We walk to Ganesha.’

  ‘I drive …?’

  ‘No, thank you. Walk is okay.’

  ‘Okay. Bags, yes?’ The driver jogged to the back and began rummaging through the luggage. Gabby climbed out of the minibus and turned to address the group.

  ‘We’re gonna take off, guys – need to stretch our legs, get some air. Maybe see some of you later at the Riverside Bar?’ Gabby nodded at the murmur of agreement and helped Kao to guide Maddie out of the van, escorting her to the selection of backpacks piled up in the road.

  ‘Which one’s yours, Maddie?’ asked Gabby, heaving her own pack onto her shoulders.

  Charlie stepped out of the minibus, hands on his hips, loitering. ‘I’ll walk with you.’

  ‘It’s okay, really. Maybe we’ll see you tonight for that drink,’ said Gabby.

  Inside the minibus, Barry swivelled around in his seat, craning his neck to watch.

  ‘But you may need—’

  ‘Protection, here? Thanks for your concern, but please don’t worry.’

  The driver slammed the rear doors shut and scampered around to climb back in the front.

  The minibus pulled away, leaving Gabby, Kao and Maddie at the side of the road. The faces inside disappeared in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes. Maddie slumped down onto her pack, her head over her knees, hands trembling. ‘Thank you, that was horrible,’ she mumbled.

  ‘It’s been a tough twenty-four hours. Probably just caught you up.’

  Maddie nodded. She pursed her lips, controlling her breathing. ‘Everything closed in. Too hot, too fast, too—’

  ‘Shh … no need to explain.’ Gabby turned to Kao. ‘Which hotel are you staying at?’

  ‘Tomato Guesthouse.’

  ‘Cute name. Okay, let’s see how close they are on the map. We’ll drop you off on the way.’

  ‘I should check my phone, see what�
�s going on with Rupert. He’s—’

  Gabby stooped down in front of Maddie, rested a hand on her shoulder. ‘Take a moment, it’s been a long, stressful day. Think about how much better you’ll feel after a shower and some food with a cold drink. Okay?’

  Maddie lifted her head and nodded. Gabby and Kao offered their hands, helping her up. She swept dust off her lap, took a deep breath and heaved the backpack onto her shoulders. ‘Thanks, I’m all set.’

  • • •

  Rupert darted his eyes around the familiar hotel lobby, seeking the source of a squeaking sound. A middle-aged English couple wearing matching quick-dry beige trousers and plain white cotton tee-shirts transited across the white marble floor, their rubber-soled walking shoes departing through the glass door. He dropped his eyes back to the mobile phone resting on his knee, scanning down the list of emails.

  ‘You’re looking tired, Rupert Sullivan.’

  Rupert flinched, glancing up at the immaculately suited gent. His tall lean frame loomed over the couch, face honed verging on gaunt. Yet his unblinking eyes remained bright and alert behind his spectacles, scrutinising him.

  ‘I expect our mutual acquaintances have told you my name’s Fender. A matter of personal baggage.’

  ‘Oh, right.’

  ‘Indeed. Do you mind?’ Fender gestured towards the empty space beside Rupert.

  ‘Please, go ahead.’ Rupert swallowed, inched over towards the couch armrest, watching Fender pinch his trousers above the knee and elegantly lower himself. He relaxed against the backrest, uncomfortably close.

  ‘So, Rupert … your fiancée, Madeline. Wedding jitters or a calculated decision to break away from your influence?’

  Rupert eased away from Fender’s unyielding gaze. ‘I wish I knew. She appears to have gone off the rails and—’

  ‘Coffee?’

  Rupert blinked. He looked up from fidgeting with his fingers in sweaty palms. ‘Oh, okay. Yes, thanks.’

  ‘Excellent. You relax here and apply the grey matter. Over a refreshing hot drink, you’re going to tell me everything you don’t even realise you know. Beginning with Madeline’s state of mind leading up to her – from what I understand – voluntary leave of absence. Yes?’

  Rupert nodded, shifting his gaze down into his lap.

  ‘Good man. Exclude nothing, however trivial or seemingly irrelevant. Before we get to that, do you take milk and sugar in your coffee – one broken leg or two …?’

  Fifteen

  Maddie rinsed shampoo from her scalp, a time-consuming process under the fine jets of lukewarm water. She wiped moisture from her scrunched-up eyes, opened them and spent a moment watching the bubbles gather around her feet on the tiled floor.

  ‘Still think you know what you’re doing?’ she mumbled, aware of how hollow and distant her voice sounded in the enclosed shower room.

  Maddie finished rinsing off, towelled herself dry, then stepped into the small neat bedroom, the painted floorboards creaking under her bare feet. She dressed quickly, her eyes drifting around the sparse décor.

  Life on the road. I must try to embrace the simplicity …

  • • •

  ‘Better?’ asked Gabby from her seat at a wicker table on the tiled terrace.

  ‘Much, thank you.’ Maddie glanced around the open-sided restaurant area. ‘This place is really sweet.’

  ‘Isn’t it? It was recommended in a traveller’s blog. Are you hungry? The menu looks lovely.’

  Maddie sat down, clutching her rumbling tummy. ‘Excuse me. I didn’t think I was, but actually …’

  ‘Creeps up, doesn’t it. Kao went off to find a friend who’s in town, she’s meeting us later.’ Gabby slid a menu across the table. She watched Maddie open it and scan down the options, her engagement ring twinkling in the afternoon light. ‘Some interesting characters today,’ said Gabby, shifting her eyes away from the angular rainbow patterns tickling across the glossy menu.

  ‘Mmm … some were more interested than others. On the minibus, you were telling Kao about the purpose of your trip. The guy you once knew … your teacher?’

  ‘My lecturer. Oh yeah, he could teach, let me tell you …’ Gabby pushed back in her seat, suppressing a shiver with a muted smile.

  ‘You mentioned an age difference?’

  ‘Uh-huh. He’s fifteen years older. I know what you’re thinking, he’s going to be old, wrinkly and unattractive, but,’ she shook her head and broke into a wide grin, ‘he’s still got it.’

  ‘Older men can be just as sexy.’

  ‘More so.’

  ‘Do you have plans to meet him here, in Battambang?’

  ‘No. He’s at Siem Reap – the next major city. I’ll see him in a few days.’ Gabby leant forwards, glancing around the empty restaurant, holding onto an impish smile. ‘I’m enjoying the anticipation.’

  ‘How was it left, back in the day?’

  ‘Oh, badly. Young impressionable student – older, wiser tutor. It got intense, but I never regretted our love affair. It’s been twenty-seven years … so much life has gone by, and yet so little has changed, inside.’

  ‘What if it doesn’t work out?’

  Gabby hunched further forwards in her seat, light dancing in her eyes. ‘These feelings, they’ve been buried deep for so long, I have to let it play. If the reality doesn’t match the anticipation, at least I’ll finally know.’

  ‘Hence the reason for not rushing to get there?’

  ‘Exactly. I’m savouring the build-up, because these lovely moments – the tingly tummy excitement – they disappear so quickly.’ Gabby beamed, her relaxed, shiny-eye smile radiating honesty and warmth.

  Maddie dropped her head to study the menu. She stole a look back at Gabby. ‘I wish I had your optimistic outlook. I struggle, sometimes …’

  ‘So did I, at your age. You learn over time to trust your instinct.’

  ‘Does it still hurt as much, if things don’t work out?’

  Gabby nodded. ‘It always stings.’

  Maddie turned away, blinking rapidly. Gabby pulled several tufts of thin paper napkins from the dispenser on the table and pressed them into her hand. ‘But it gets easier to let go, forgive yourself,’ she said gently with a squeeze.

  ‘Such an idiot.’

  ‘No, you’re not. I can give you some space, if …’ Gabby shuffled her seat back.

  Maddie shook her head. ‘My relationship … isn’t straightforward. Rupert has looked out for me, over the years. But recently, he’s changed. I changed, after …’ Maddie dabbed the paper napkin against her puffy eyes.

  ‘Hello, you would like to order?’ asked the Cambodian waitress.

  Maddie looked up, scrunched the napkin into her palm and pointed to a description on the menu. ‘Could I have the vegetarian curry, please.’

  ‘Two, and a pitcher of beer, thank you,’ said Gabby, nodding encouragingly at Maddie.

  ‘I don’t know where to start.’

  ‘What about when you began to change, after …’

  Maddie nodded slowly, concentrating on suppressing the spikes of poisonous bile gurgling in her stomach. ‘It’s not a fun story.’

  ‘They never are,’ Gabby replied gently, sitting back, ready to listen patiently.

  • • •

  Fender relaxed into the soft leather cushions and pressed his fingertips together, resting his chin on his thumbs. He watched Rupert swallow the last of his coffee and place the china cup on the low coffee table.

  ‘Aside from the argument the night before, and your sharp tongue the next morning, there were no other issues between you?’

  Rupert shook his head.

  ‘No one else involved, no other money problems or strong reservations about the wedding?’

  ‘Not that I’m aware of.’

  ‘You think Maddie was reluctant to get married?’

  Rupert glanced away. ‘Not until the last two days.’

  ‘Alright.’ Fender reached forwards and held out the palm of h
is hand. ‘I’d like your mobile phone.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s—’

  Fender’s expression stiffened. He levelled his scrutiny on Rupert’s restless eyes and moved his hand closer. ‘Now, please.’

  Rupert reached inside his pocket, placed the smartphone in Fender’s rigid palm.

  ‘Good chap. Would you like another coffee?’

  He nodded. Fender’s features softened. He stood up, pocketing the phone and strolled away. Rupert turned to watch him brush past a suited Cambodian man. The phone passed discreetly between them, disappearing beneath the man’s jacket in a smooth, barely noticeable sleight of hand.

  Rupert clenched his teeth, forced down a tickly dry swallow, then bolted for the hotel’s front door.

  • • •

  ‘It’s greener than I expected … the taxi ride in,’ said Jody. She cast her eyes along the row of two and three-storey terraced shops from the wide pavement on the opposite side of the busy road. ‘I suppose I thought it’d be similar to Africa. You know, dusty and barren.’

  ‘Yeah, looks vibrant and promising. Finally Kampuchea has started to shed its destructive history,’ Barry replied, carefully wiping dust off his camera.

  Jody shielded her eyes from the bright sunshine as she scanned along the balconies, most adorned with bright, colourful electrical brand names, boldly advertising commercial produce. She dropped her gaze back to Barry, absorbing his cheerful expression.

  ‘How long do you think we’ll be here?’

  ‘Couple of days, maybe three. Depends … you know how it goes.’ He turned to grin at her as they walked on.

  ‘And after you’ve done your thing, will you meet me in Phnom Penh?’

  ‘Sure. When are you seeing your friend?’

  ‘A week from tomorrow.’

  Barry slowed his walk, glanced at her. ‘Going to be tight. The temples at Angkor, they deserve a decent chunk of time. You’re missing out, big time—’

  ‘I need to meet Penny. Come with me, we’ll double back to Angkor together. It’ll be more fun.’

  Barry slowed to a shuffle. He shook his head. ‘We’ve been through this, Jody. It’ll burn too much time. I need a quality stint at Angkor, then Tuol Sleng before my flight out. You know how important that part of the journey is to me—’