by Mark Green
Bozzer watched the street orientation change as the bus turned away from the wide pavement promenade overlooking the river, heading down a busy side road, wall to wall with shopfronts incorporating two-storey flats above.
‘Back so soon, brother Bazza … better hope Jody has moved on,’ he murmured.
He took in the passing bars and restaurants, outside which older Western men mingled with Thai girls wearing hot pants and white blouse tops, the loose fabric tails tied in a knot above their bellybuttons. The bus rumbled on, the engine note vibrating through the seats, rattling the windows whenever it slowed to a walking pace. Bozzer glanced down to his mobile phone and swiped through several menu screens. He located the flight number, noted in his diary for a Sunday departure, in three days’ time. Cutting it fine, mate …
A thumb and finger reached out and pinched the plastic headphone, lifting it off Bozzer’s right ear an inch from his head. ‘Are you on an arsehole break?’
Bozzer flinched away from the voice. The headphones sprung away from her grip, pinging against his ear. ‘Whoa, easy – treat the boys with more respect.’ Bozzer removed the headphones, cradling them in his hands, shooting Maddie a faux-concerned expression.
‘The boys?’
‘The band. Too legendary to be interrupted.’
‘Let me guess – an Aussie rock group?’
‘The one and only. Say, do you, you know … like AC/DC?’
‘No.’
‘Shame. I’d pay to see that live performance.’
Maddie held eye contact, fighting the mouth-twitching urge to smile at him. ‘I asked you if—’
‘Oh yeah, I’m still an arsehole. But it’s okay, I’m on a break.’
‘Meaning you’re normal, at this precise moment?’
‘Hey, that’s a whole evening’s entertainment right there – discussing normality. Sure you want to go there?’
‘I wanted to ask you a question about your grandfather, but clearly you’re not capable of being remotely serious.’
Bozzer laughed. ‘Take a look in the mirror, honey – then define sensible.’
Maddie sighed. She turned and sat back in her seat, shaking her head. Bozzer pressed his face into the gap between the twin headrests and angled his eyes down to the right, where she rested the open paperback in her lap.
‘How’s the book?’
‘Ten times better than having to make small talk with you.’
‘Obviously.’ He kept his face pressed into the gap, scanning his eyes down the text as she turned the page. ‘Whoa, hang on, not finished yet—’
Maddie marked the page, shut the book and shuffled away from the backrest, opening up the angle between them. ‘Are you always this annoying? Is that why Jody left?’
‘Ask her, if you see her. She’s probably still here somewhere.’
‘Probably?’
‘Yup. The book looks good. Heavy going, though.’
Maddie’s expression clouded over. She dropped her eyes to the cover. ‘It’s … disturbing, and profoundly moving throughout,’ she said quietly.
He nodded, dropped his voice an octave. ‘You seen the movie, The Killing Fields?’
She looked up, shook her head.
‘They show it here, in town.’
‘I’ll check it out.’
‘Cool. I could tell you where the cinema is, if you like.’
Maddie studied his face, searched his eyes for sincerity. He flicked his gaze past her, out of the window, then eased back from the gap in the headrest as the bus began to slow up.
‘Get ready for the gong show.’ Bozzer grabbed his headphones, stuffed them into his day-pack and stepped into the aisle. ‘See you on the street. Hold onto your principles out there,’ he called out, over his shoulder.
Bozzer finished sprinkling tobacco into the Rizla paper, then expertly rolled it into a tube and carefully dabbed his tongue along the seam. He lifted his head to look out over the throng of people clustered around the bus, all clamouring for the attention of the Western travellers trying to collect their belongings. He could hear the calls, vying for business. ‘Tuk-tuk. Tuk-tuk. Tuk-tuk …’
Maddie pressed several Cambodian Riel notes into the bus driver’s palm, smiling her thanks at his surprised grin, then lifted her backpack from his hands onto her shoulders. She dropped her gaze to the floor, away from making eye contact with the twenty assorted taxi drivers all trying to attract fare-paying attention, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, making for the pavement on the far side of the busy market.
Bozzer watched Maddie’s exit from the taxi driver scrum. He removed the roll-up from his mouth, curled his tongue and blew against a thumb and finger pressed together, emitting a piercing whistle.
‘Yo, Madge!’ he yelled, waving her over. She looked up, searching for him.
Too late.
Victoria grabbed Maddie’s hand, steering her away from the periphery of the market, following a young Cambodian to his waiting tuk-tuk. Bozzer watched the driver help them remove their backpacks, securing them inside the tuk-tuk as they climbed in. The driver swung his leg over the motorbike’s fuel tank and fired the engine, steering away into the hectic Phnom Penh traffic.
Bozzer lowered his fingers from his mouth, making eye contact with Maddie. She began to raise her hand to wave, blocked from his view by a truck piled high with standing workers swinging across its lane.
He looked away, drawn to the remaining passengers on the bus, now filtering away through the market crowd, being led to waiting taxis and tuk-tuks by enthusiastic drivers. Bozzer’s gaze settled on Charlie as he climbed into the back of a tuk-tuk. He lifted his roll-up, drawing smoke, eyeing Charlie until his tuk-tuk trundled out into main road.
‘What are you up to, Charlie-boy …?’ Bozzer shouldered his backpack, stubbed out his roll-up in his tobacco tin and wandered over to a group of moto-taxi riders, stood talking and smoking by the side of the market square.
‘Where you go?’ asked a smiley kid no older than seventeen.
‘You follow my friend?’ said Bozzer, pointing at Charlie’s tuk-tuk. ‘Three dollars, yes?’
‘Four dollar.’
‘Okay. But don’t lose him.’
The smiley kid fired up his scooter. Bozzer hunched up his legs on the pillion pegs and grasped the hand-holds behind him, peering around the moto-rider’s crash helmet, searching the busy road ahead for Charlie’s tuk-tuk. He released his left hand from the pillion handhold and pointed directly ahead. The moto-rider nodded and twisted the throttle, weaving around a taxi, slipping through a gap between a group of tuk-tuks waiting to turn right. He braked hard, darting behind a battered pick-up truck. Bozzer held his palm out flat, motioned it downwards twice: slow down. He flicked his eyes over the vehicles stopping ahead, trying to turn left at the intersection. Red tee-shirt, angular jaw … there. He pointed, leaning with the moto-rider as they weaved their way through the congestion, easing up two vehicles behind Charlie’s tuk-tuk.
‘Him – farang. Follow, okay?’ Bozzer said to the moto-rider.
‘Okay, yes.’
A brief gap appeared in the vehicles coming around the intersection. The front line of motorbikes, tuk-tuks and cars revved and pulled out, followed by a horde of other vehicles, four deep, all swarming out into the path of the oncoming traffic amidst a chorus of tooting horns.
NrrrrrrrRRRRR!
Bozzer clenched his fingers around the pillion handles, tensing his body as the moto-rider zoomed through a tiny gap between a taxi’s bumper and the front wheel of a tuk-tuk, weaving through the chaos, staying tight behind Charlie. He cringed as a scooter hurtled past them, inches from their rear wheel.
• • •
Maddie lowered her hand, shielding the sunlight as they turned.
‘He’s a waste of space,’ Victoria declared, lurching in her seat.
Maddie shifted around to face her, sat on the bench seat opposite. ‘Who, Charlie?’
‘No, the Australian boy. Imagine hav
ing to deal with that annoying prick every day. Jody had the right idea, bailing out.’
‘I thought he left her?’
Victoria waved her hand across the gap between them. ‘Whatever.’
Maddie watched her light up a cigarette, hesitate, then offer her the packet. She shook her head. ‘What happened between you and Charlie?’ she asked.
Victoria glanced away, her eyes drifting out over the chaotic traffic. ‘Nice guy, just not very forthcoming – in the bedroom department.’
‘Oh.’
Victoria shrugged. ‘I like sex, I’m not ashamed of that. But it rocks my confidence when a bloke isn’t that fussed. I mean, ninety-nine per cent of guys are up for it, most of the time – you know where you are with them. But Charlie … he’s on this holier than thou mission. He wanted more of a connection, before jumping into the sack. What’s that all about?’
Victoria took a pull on her cigarette, then draped her elbows along the side of the tuk-tuk carriage and shook her head, looking out over the grassy area in the central pedestrian island walkway, keeping Maddie in her peripheral vision.
‘I suppose he thought he was being a gentleman.’
Victoria allowed herself a tiny smile before she turned to face her. ‘Yeah, maybe. But what’s the point, in modern society? Being honourable doesn’t satisfy a basic human need to get laid.’
Maddie looked away and sat quietly watching the other vehicles weave around each other, beeping their horns, all vying for the quickest route through the traffic. Victoria took a last drag on her cigarette and flicked the butt into the road, blowing smoke up under the tuk-tuk’s canopy, where it funnelled out of the back and dispersed in the dusky humid air.
• • •
Bozzer thanked the moto-rider and paid him in US dollars. He grinned, pocketed the cash and pulled out into the traffic with a screech of two-stroke engine, trailing exhaust fumes.
Bozzer stepped back to the pavement and ducked down behind a shopfront awning, turning to watch Charlie lug his backpack through the plush hotel’s smoked glass entrance doors on the opposite side of the road.
He fished his tobacco tin out of his pocket and rolled a smoke. ‘Gotcha, my poncy double-ducky friend. Let’s see what tomorrow brings,’ he muttered, smiling thinly. He placed the roll-up between his lips, then fished his mobile phone from his pocket. He typed a search for cheap accommodation.
‘See you in the morning, Charlie-boy, bright and early.’ Bozzer clicked on a link to a hostel and lit his ciggie, sniggering.
• • •
Maddie sat on the bed in the shared hotel room and toyed with her mobile phone.
‘That looks like an agonising decision.’
She glanced up at Victoria exiting the bathroom, one towel wrapped around her torso, using another to scrunch-dry her hair.
‘It’s been mostly switched off, for …’ Maddie counted on her fingers, ‘over two weeks.’
‘Scary, yet strangely liberating?’
‘Yeah. I was thinking about what I’m missing …’
Victoria flicked her head back and wrapped the towel into a turban. She sat down on the opposite corner of the bed. ‘Guess it’s been a weird time for you.’
‘Weird, challenging and oddly rewarding.’ Maddie removed the SIM card from her purse and peered at it. ‘Strange, all those people’s numbers, on this little thing.’
‘Technology, eh.’
Maddie nodded. ‘Most of them I hardly ever talk to.’
‘Before you reconnect … what if your other half is still looking for you?’
‘Rupert? Oh, he’ll have given up a long time ago.’
‘But if he hasn’t, you’ll pop up on his radar.’
Maddie stared at Victoria, then dropped her eyes to the SIM card in her fingers. ‘You think he’s still tracking me?’
‘Don’t you? He seemed pretty determined. Have you thought about using a local SIM? You’d be untraceable.’
‘I hadn’t, but I suppose that’s an idea …’
‘I think I’ve got a spare. They were handing them out at the airport when I arrived. If your fiancée’s got you tagged on a tracking website, it’ll be registered to your UK number, not a new local one.’ Victoria slipped off the bed and rummaged in her backpack. She produced a sealed packet with a new SIM card enclosed.
‘Really?’
‘Sure, it was free, so no biggie. You register it with your passport number. There should be enough credit to get you started.’
‘Hey, that’s brilliant. Thanks.’ Maddie popped the new SIM out of its packaging and inserted it into her iPhone. She watched the screen light up and go through its familiar start-up sequence.
‘You get connected okay?’
Maddie nodded absently, studying the screen. ‘Just checking my emails now.’
‘Anything exciting?’
‘Not especially.’ She tilted the phone away.
‘You know, if you really want to go off-grid, you need to be bold.’
‘In what way?’
‘Every way.’ Victoria pointed to Maddie’s old SIM, on the bed. ‘That’s temptation, right there. Moving on means travelling light. Take nothing with you that belongs in the past. That’s my motto.’
Maddie stared at Victoria, then dropped her eyes to the SIM. ‘That’s always been my trouble … not being able to let go.’ She picked it up. ‘You done in the bathroom?’
‘Sure am.’
She tucked her purse into her backpack, grabbed her toiletries bag and headed across the room, taking the SIM card with her.
Maddie frowned at her reflection and flattened her hair in her fingers, peering at the dark roots protruding from her scalp. ‘Going natural … wonderful,’ she muttered. ‘You need some colour, girl.’ She smirked, then flicked her hair back and dropped her eyes to the SIM card, perched on the edge of the sink. ‘Or, perhaps not.’
She brushed the SIM into the toilet. ‘Oops.’
She pressed down on the flush and watched the churning water until the gurgling cleared, leaving an empty bowl. Then she grinned and glanced back at her reflection, her heart pounding. ‘That bold enough?’ She stifled a giggle, her stomach twinging, palms tingling.
Maddie opened the door, poked her head out into the room. ‘Hey, what do you think about—’
Victoria jerked her brush through her hair, vigorously hunting down stray knots, her face turning red.
‘You okay?’ asked Maddie.
‘Yup. Startled me.’
‘Oh, sorry.’
‘What is it?’
‘I wondered what you think about … nothing. Image crisis, but I don’t think I care anymore. Sorry I startled you.’
Maddie withdrew into the bathroom. She finished brushing her hair, ignoring the troublesome roots as she pondered why her room-mate appeared to be so jumpy.
Thirty-Three
Maddie rummaged through the rucksack and held up a fake Quicksilver tee-shirt. ‘Dirty washing, or good for one more day?’ she pondered aloud.
She looked over at Victoria, sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed, fixated on her mobile phone. Maddie transferred her attention back to the tee-shirt and sniffed under the sleeves. She wrinkled her nose, considered for a moment, then shrugged and slipped it over her head. ‘I’m going to have to get some washing done. You want me to take yours too?’
‘Reckon I’m okay, cheers,’ replied Victoria, stealing a look up, which Maddie caught out of the corner of her eye. Victoria dropped her eyes to the screen and attempted to shield a smirk.
What are you up to, Vicky …?
• • •
Bozzer eased through the heavy glass entrance door, held open by a doorman dressed in a red jacket, pristine white shirt and black trousers. He nodded his thanks and scanned the foyer. A lone traveller sat in the far corner on a comfy couch, hunched over a tablet computer screen, balanced on his lap. Bozzer turned to his right, approaching the two attractive Cambodian girls sat behind the vast black marble
reception desk.
‘Hi, I’m meeting my friend here later, but I want to visit the museum first. Could I leave my bag here, please?’ He slid two dollar bills across the counter, offering his backpack around the side of the desk.
The girl nearest to him swept the notes off the marble top in a smooth motion and hurried around the desk to collect his rucksack. By the time she’d dragged the pack into a back room, her colleague had already written out a label and tied it to the waistband strap. She passed Bozzer a receipt.
‘Thank you sir,’ the first girl said, nodding and clasping her palms together under her chin.
Bozzer pocketed the receipt and winked at them before wandering away towards the bar, on the opposite side of the grand foyer. He glanced up at the extravagant décor and retrieved his Mackenzie tartan cap from his camera bag, unrolled it and swept his loose hair back, pulling the cap firmly down on his head.
He turned to face the approaching barman. ‘Hi, Chang beer, please.’ Bozzer selected a low chair in the corner facing away from the entrance door towards the corridor leading to the elevator. He placed the beer bottle on an adjacent table, pulling the cap’s lip further over his face as he settled back into the soft leather to wait for the afternoon’s entertainment.
• • •
Maddie handed her bag of washing over the simple white-painted reception desk.
‘Tomorrow, is okay?’ the receptionist asked.
‘Yes, thank you.’ She pocketed the ticket stub and turned away, walking across the small lobby to the collection of mismatched chairs beside a stained coffee table. ‘Any luck with the Wi-Fi?’
Victoria looked up from studying her phone. ‘Yeah, I’ve got a Skype catch-up with my folks in a few minutes. You off exploring?’
‘Yup. Thought I’d head over to the museum.’
Victoria cringed. ‘Good luck. Not my idea of a fun day out.’
‘No. But necessary, I think.’
Victoria shrugged and dropped her eyes back to the phone’s screen.
‘I’ve left the room key with reception. See you later?’
‘Sure. I’m going to bum around for a couple of hours, catch up with some online stuff. See you for a cheer-up drink. You’re gonna need it.’
