The Travel Mate

by Mark Green

  ‘Playing that game, eh?’ Bozzer stood up off the saddle and forced his feet down on the pedals. ‘Wait up, posh-pom-hoity-toity!’

  Maddie pushed through the dull ache in her quads, chopping her legs down like two pistons working flat out in perfect unison. She peered down the road with tunnel vision, homing in on the east gate to Angkor Thom.

  ‘Bollocks,’ Bozzer muttered between wheezes, shaking his head at the widening gap.

  Maddie brought her bike to a halt at the gate then glugged down half a litre of water, eyeing his breathless approach. She screwed the top back on the bottle and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘Tyre’s fixed.’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed,’ he panted, squeaking the bike to a stop. ‘Bloody kid, put supercharged compressed air in there.’ He rested his bike on its stand, accepted the water bottle from her and ignored her artfully raised eyebrow.

  ‘Something you need to say …?’ she asked, lightly.

  ‘Such as?’ he spluttered, gulping down the water.

  ‘“You’re actually quite fast on a bike, Maddie.”’

  ‘Sure. You’re … actually … quite … daft.’ He sank down onto the ground, laid back with his knees pointing skywards. ‘It’s too early in the morning for a pissing contest.’

  ‘You boys, no stamina. Don’t have a heart attack, my CPR isn’t up to date.’

  He propped up on his elbows, shaking his head. ‘Hand me my camera – need to capture this gloating.’

  Maddie reached into his bike’s basket, handed the camera case to him.

  ‘Cheers. Victory pose, if you please: arms folded, one foot on a pedal, tilt those hips and … pout.’ Bozzer clicked the shutter, sank his head back on the ground and laid his arms out by his side. ‘Perfect.’

  ‘What, no drivelling slutty-smutty observation?’

  ‘Too knackered.’

  ‘My turn, then – loser shot.’ Maddie lifted the camera from his hand, stepped back and adjusted the lens, bringing him into sharp focus. ‘So to record as well, do I press the shutter once, twice, or—’

  Bozzer rolled his eyes. ‘Have a heart, man down – ruptured ego …’

  ‘There’s no humility in victory. It’ll be good for the book blurb to see the Aussie author suffering for his art. So much more interesting than a sterile studio portrait.’

  Bozzer smirked and took another swig of water. ‘Once the shutter makes its aperture opening sound, keep the button held down and say what you need to. Then release it when you’re done. I normally aim for—’

  ‘Twenty seconds of flowery bullshit. Yes, I know.’

  Shh-clitch.

  Memory Card 3. Pic 147

  ‘Deflated drongo. The man from down under, gasping to recover. Beaten by his ego, and a pommy cycling ho. Will his damaged pride ever repair, or will he end up in despair? The author of Shutter Stutter lies where he belongs, exhausted and breathless, in the gutter. His unwritten book of pictures and words, could well end up being a huge steaming turd.’

  Maddie released the shutter button. Bozzer lifted his head and middle finger simultaneously, grinning at her. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, it means so much.’ He dug his hand into his pocket, removed his tobacco tin and rolled onto his side, propping up onto an elbow. ‘Ciggie break for the condemned man. Then we’ll negotiate rates for resuming the grand tour – most definitely at a slower speed.’

  • • •

  Victoria slipped her hand over Charlie’s shoulder and held her mobile phone at arm’s length. He flinched as she squeezed in tighter to him and pressed the screen.

  ‘Fantastic, great shot.’ Victoria showed him the picture of her grinning face and his quizzical expression in the foreground, with the Angkor Wat towers behind them. She slid her arm off his shoulders, left it hanging loose around his waist and lifted her eyes up to his. Charlie looked down, meeting her gaze. Her eyelashes flickered, arm tightening around him as she eased her chin up, her lips closing in …

  ‘Hold that pose – you’re such a lovely couple. Would you like me to take a shot for you?’

  They turned simultaneously to look at Fender. He was smiling warmly, his fingers forming a square, framing an imaginary photograph.

  Victoria glanced at Charlie, who shrugged. ‘Oh, okay. Thanks.’ She handed Fender her phone and cuddled back into Charlie.

  ‘Perfect.’ Fender took a step back and held the phone up, close to his face. ‘And say … Madeline Bryce.’ Fender captured their confused, wary expressions. ‘She got on the same minibus as you, from Bangkok to Battambang.’

  Victoria glanced at Rupert, loitering a few feet behind Fender. ‘Can’t help you.’ She held out her hand. ‘I’d like my phone back.’ Victoria took a step towards Fender, who turned and tossed the phone to Rupert.

  ‘Of course. But first, a few questions about Maddie.’

  Charlie eased away from Victoria, flicking his eyes between Fender and Rupert.

  ‘I wouldn’t recommend doing anything rash. All I want is to locate her, make sure she’s safe.’ Fender gestured behind him at Rupert, busy checking Victoria’s phone. ‘This is Maddie’s fiancé. He wasn’t very … inclusive of her needs. So she took some time out, to think things through. But Maddie isn’t particularly streetwise. I need reassurance that she isn’t mixing with the wrong crowd.’

  Charlie took a step towards Rupert, holding out his hand. ‘My friend would like her phone back. Now.’

  Fender side-stepped, blocking his approach. ‘I wouldn’t, buddy.’

  ‘You might not, old timer, but—’ Charlie pulled a clenched fist back and swung it at Fender, fast and low, aiming for his stomach. Fender deflected the blow easily, flexing his hips and swatting the fist away while simultaneously using his left hand to yank down Charlie’s shoulder. Fender jerked his knee up hard into his groin, collapsing him onto the ground.

  ‘Ahhrr!’ Charlie writhed in a foetal position on the grass, sucking in short rasping breaths, his face contorted in eye-watering agony.

  Fender crouched down, used his palm to press Charlie’s cheek into the dirt.

  ‘Word of advice, mucker. Never underestimate anyone, no matter how old and incapable they might appear. Now, when did you last see Maddie?’

  ‘She was with us, but we haven’t seen her for two days,’ said Victoria, sounding scared.

  Fender glanced up. ‘Go on.’

  ‘She went to bed early, got a tuk-tuk to Angkor Wat for the sunrise, yesterday morning.’

  ‘On her own, or—’

  ‘With Gabby, another traveller, who was meeting an old boyfriend. Maddie went along to keep her company, in case it didn’t work out. We were supposed to meet her there later, for breakfast. But we didn’t get up early enough.’

  ‘Where’s Maddie staying?’

  ‘Somewhere in the tourist part of town.’

  Fender eased off the pressure on Charlie’s face. ‘Has Gabby got a mobile phone?’

  Victoria shrugged.

  ‘Don’t know,’ said Charlie, spitting out particles of dirt.

  ‘So the question is, where did Maddie go?’

  ‘She was talking about getting a three day pass.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Fender glanced over at Rupert, still fixated with Victoria’s phone. ‘Anything?’

  ‘She’s got Maddie’s number in here, but there’s no text messages or phone calls logged between them.’

  ‘What about the German, Barnaby?’ Fender directed his question at Charlie and Victoria.

  ‘Barney? What about him …’

  Fender released his grip on Charlie. ‘Does Maddie like him?’

  Charlie pushed up onto his side, rubbing dirt off his cheek, brushing dust out of his hair. ‘No, I don’t think so. Barney’s weird.’

  ‘Weird, how?’

  ‘He’s eccentric, that’s all. An extrovert,’ said Victoria.

  ‘Is there anyone else you think Maddie might be with?’

  Charlie and Victoria looked at each other and shook thei
r heads. ‘The only other person would have been Barry. But his girlfriend didn’t like Maddie. Anyway, they’ve moved on to Phnom Penh,’ said Victoria.

  Fender glanced at Rupert, who shrugged. He jerked his head over at Victoria. Rupert stepped forwards and handed her the mobile phone.

  ‘Here’s my contact details,’ said Fender. ‘You see Maddie, please call me.’ He handed Victoria a business card and a fifty dollar bill. ‘For your time. I’ll double it if you contact me with details of her location.’

  Fender flitted his gaze between them, making sure they understood, then he turned and walked away. Rupert dutifully fell in at his side, matching his purposeful stride.

  Twenty-Nine

  Maddie swallowed a mouthful of water and handed the bottle to Bozzer. He took a long drink then sank back onto his elbows, slouching against the stone steps, stretching his legs down towards the edge of the lake. ‘Imagine having all this as your own private bathroom. Be a bit excessive.’

  ‘And not especially secluded.’

  ‘No … swimming twenty lengths before breakfast would take a month.’

  ‘But it is tranquil. I like it.’

  They sat there for a while, taking in the view.

  ‘So, tour guide extraordinaire, what’s the plan?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m off to score some steroids so I can keep up with you. After that, mingle with the minions at Angkor Wat to complete the tourist thang. I’m meeting up with Barney and the others in Siem Reap later, for dinner.’

  ‘Isn’t Barney a bit odd?’

  ‘Yeah, but he makes me laugh. He’s heading off east tomorrow, so we’re gonna hang out. Maybe score some happy … memories.’

  Maddie watched him shift his eyes away. ‘Memories … really?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. You boys …’ She looked out over the secluded lake and sighed. ‘Is Angkor Wat going to be rammed with tourists?’

  ‘Oh yeah, guaranteed. Didn’t you notice the build-up for the sunrise, with Gabby? It’ll be even worse at this time of day.’

  ‘So nothing like the tree temple.’

  ‘Ta Prohm? Nah, that was solitary, and … significant.’

  They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sun shining over the vast serenity of the bathing lake.

  ‘How many copies of this book do you need to sell, to cover your expenses?’

  ‘I’d be happy to sell one, to make it official, y’know. But, I suppose, four months travelling, Southeast Asia and South America … all in, maybe five thousand copies.’

  ‘After that you’re in profit?’

  He sat up and considered her with a mild frown and single half-raised eyebrow, a quirky smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as he swept a hand out across the lake’s expanse. ‘Look where we are – I’m already in credit.’

  ‘That’s a nice way to look at it.’

  Bozzer yawned and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. ‘It’s the only way to look at it.’ She turned to watch him walk towards the bikes, propped up against a tree. ‘Time to move on, magnificent Madge. The minions await …’

  • • •

  Fender handed the correct amount of change to the man behind the van’s serving hatch and passed Cambodia’s answer to a Magnum chocolate ice cream to Rupert. He unwrapped his own and took a bite.

  ‘This is surreal. Seeing you eat that, like just another tourist.’

  Fender cast his eyes over Rupert. ‘Have I not worked hard enough pursuing your AWOL fiancée and her Samsonite contraband to have earned a regular tourist treat?’

  ‘Maybe, but it’s still weird. I’m starting to think you might actually be a normal guy, under all that ruthless efficiency.’

  ‘It’s what I do. This is—’

  ‘Just another day at the office?’

  ‘Ordinarily … but today happens to be slightly different.’

  Rupert studied Fender’s expression. ‘You’re celebrating something?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Joe-Ho’s released me from the debt?’

  ‘Sadly not. Why would he? This is business.’

  ‘Something else then … your birthday?’

  ‘Correct. It will be, tomorrow.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let me guess – forty-five?’

  ‘Flattery will not buy you any concessions.’

  ‘Steady, that looked like the beginning of a wry smile.’

  ‘No. You were mistaken.’

  ‘So how old are you?’

  ‘Tomorrow, Rupert, will be my fifty-fifth birthday.’

  ‘Wow, life has been kind. We should celebrate.’

  Fender held up the ice cream. ‘I am.’

  ‘You’re a day early.’

  ‘I’m taking small pleasures as they present themselves. Tomorrow may not bring the time or opportunity to mark the occasion.’

  ‘So this is it? No Skype call home, meal out later with a few beers?’

  ‘I’m working.’

  ‘All the time?’

  Fender headed off a melting chocolate and ice cream landslide with his mouth. He savoured the taste as if he’d not had a sweet treat for a year. ‘Interesting that you berate me, Rupert. Are you not currently lacking normality? I doubt Maddie will be the same girl she was, when we find her.’

  Rupert swallowed, blinking rapidly, his chest tightening. ‘Meaning … you’re about to get nasty?’

  ‘Meaning, when your future wife finds out about your predicament, and hers, is she really going to stand beside you while you face up to your catastrophic situation?’

  ‘Maddie is—’

  ‘Madeline has already taken the first lunge away from you. Get used to reality, Rupert. It’s called being a singleton, with substantial baggage.’

  Rupert shrugged and looked away.

  Fender added, ‘Best hope we find her today, while I’m still in a good mood. We might be able to sort this mess out in a civilised manner.’

  ‘Meaning the rest of the time you’re a calculated and ruthless enforcer?’

  ‘There’s a debt to recover. I’ve been employed to clean it up.’

  ‘By any means necessary?’

  ‘I’ve built my reputation on positive outcomes.’

  ‘So what happens when we find Maddie?’

  Fender took another precisely targeted bite of the ice cream’s chocolate coating. He enjoyed the sensation for a moment before replying. ‘Maddie intentionally distanced herself from you, the rules you were about to inflict on her. Once we’ve dealt with the Samsonite issue, she gets to decide what she wants to do next. With, or without you.’

  ‘What happens to me?’

  Fender paused in his ice cream demolition. ‘You think I have instructions to punish you?’

  ‘Haven’t you?’

  A thin wry smile momentarily creased Fender’s lips. ‘I generally deal with debt recovery, rather than liability eradication.’

  ‘So what happens if Maddie doesn’t have the other suitcase?’

  Fender narrowed his eyes a millimetre. ‘Why wouldn’t she?’

  ‘I’m examining the hypothetical risk.’

  ‘To you, or her?’

  ‘Both of us.’

  Fender sucked the remnants of ice cream off the wooden stick and pressed the curved end into Rupert’s chest. ‘You’d better hope she does still have it, Rupert. For both your sakes.’

  • • •

  Memory Card 3. Pic 188

  ‘Ant invasion, curious hordes disrespectful of the gravity of occasion. They scurry amongst the ancient iconic temples of Angkor, seeking selfies with the subtlety and respectful observation of a leaking supertanker. Filming, snapping, posing in an effort to illustrate their grasp of culture, instead immortalising their portrait as one of many self-absorbed social media vultures. Individuality is gone, only this remains. Men have diluted their ability to better themselves, despite lessons learned over generations failing to embed in their
greedy little brains.’

  ‘Wow. Quite the anarchist, aren’t you?’

  Bozzer released the shutter button and lowered his camera, his narrow field of vision widening across the full panorama of the Angkor temple boundaries. ‘I do sometimes wonder where it comes from. There’s something a bit unsettling about all this, don’t you think?’

  Maddie followed his gaze, looking down from their perch high up on the central stone tower, over the grassy sections below where clusters of colourfully dressed tourists mingled.

  ‘I’d ask what you’ve been on, to come up with such an avant-garde description, but I’m still partially, unintentionally, on your wavelength. It is odd, seeing this holy place overrun like this. Particularly surreal, knowing there’s a massive car park beyond the moat.’

  ‘Yeah … kinda peaceful up here, though.’

  She nodded, scanning the horizon, the distant treeline filtering the blue and yellowy tinted sky. ‘How long does it take to build something like this?’

  ‘Quite a few years, without a JCB.’

  She giggled, shot him a disapproving look, then relaxed back into a reflective gaze over the temple’s perimeter. ‘Some commitment.’

  He turned to face her. ‘I’ve been trying to figure this place out. It’s no fortress, built to protect against an attack from enemies, like an English medieval castle. It has a sense of harmony … like it’s a sanctuary. It’s here to celebrate life, rather than defend against an invasion and impending death. The strength in this place comes from within.’

  ‘Sounds like a life lesson is in there somewhere.’

  ‘For sure.’ Bozzer opened his tobacco tin and began to roll a cigarette. ‘We’ll make a move back in a bit, join the masses. If that’s cool?’

  ‘Sounds good. I wonder how Gabby’s getting along with her guy.’

  ‘Perhaps you’ll see her later.’

  ‘Maybe. Where are you meeting the others?’

  ‘At a restaurant called Le Tigre de Papier. Some big cheese celebrity chef is supposed to have cooked there once. Your buddy Charlie, and his shadow – vindictive Victoria – will probably be there too.’

  Maddie frowned. She turned away from the ebbing sun and pastel-coloured panorama to study his expression.

  ‘What?’