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AFTER NOONIE LEFT THE lounge, Thanongsak watched a streamer caught in the air-conditioning fan. The birds sang outside, a string quartet played within. A Japanese couple entered and settled to cards. A plane flew overhead. Four children shouted and screeched in the garden. He thought and felt nothing.
He went to his room, undressed, laid on his bed and fell into a dreamless sleep. He awoke eighteen hours later in a pool of sweat. A wasp banged against the window. He released it and went to the bathroom, washed, shaved and put on a new set of clothes. It was time to go back home.
He knocked at Noonie’s door. It swung open under its own weight. Her bed hadn’t been slept in. She’d left her suitcase behind, but that was the frame of mind she was in, thanks to him. Confirmation came when he couldn’t find her plane ticket. She was on her way back to England. She’d told him as much.
He already knew he didn’t love her. He’d realised as soon as she’d walked out of the lounge. It hit him now how odd this was. And how ugly.
He took a taxi to Patong. The streets were piled with rubble just like yesterday and everyone looked to be in the same state of shock. He got out at a kiosk manned by a young woman with a bandana.
“Mee arai hai chuay mai khrap?” he said.
“Sorry, I only speak Dutch and English.”
“How can I help? I want to assist in the rescue effort.”
She pointed across the road, to a group of men clearing rubble. “They could do with an extra hand.”
He needed a few days to decide what he was going to do. Apart from anything else he was frightened. He’d gambled his conscience and lost. Now he had to face the consequences.
It was a week before he could face the return to England. As soon as the plane touched down at Gatwick, he knew his days as a restaurateur were numbered. Carrying on as before, even somewhere far away, wasn’t an option.
First he had to grovel to Noonie. Jet-lag would have to wait. He went home and changed into a suit and set off for Black Gables on foot. It was ten o’clock in the morning, dark, and threatening rain. A gale stirred the briars and however much he tried to keep to the stonier parts of the drive, his shoes gathered mud.
To his consternation, when he rounded the corner to the house, an open-backed lorry stood by the entrance, half-loaded with planks and a ladder. The front door to Black Gables was boarded over, and – as far as he could tell – all the upstairs windows too. Four men in blue overalls with hard hats were sealing the lower windows. The drive was strewn with timber and cut shrubs tied with wire. The noise of hammering echoed in the woods.
“Excuse me!”
A man with a drill turned to face Thanongsak. “Is there a problem?”
“I’ve come to visit the people who live here. Obviously, I can see no one lives here now. Do you know where they’ve gone?”
“Who did you say you were again?” the man said sardonically.
“I’ve come to visit the people who live here. Just a friend. Of the family.”
“I don’t know where they’ve gone, no.”
“When did they ask you to do this?”
“Yesterday, why?”
“Sorry to keep asking questions but what’s all this timber doing?”
“Look, mate, I’ve got to be getting on.”
Thanongsak took out his wallet and handed him a twenty-pound note. “Buy yourself a pint when you’ve finished.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
“It’s just, I can’t help wondering ... ”
“Okay, we’ve been asked to put it up against the walls when we’ve finished and strew it with some of that brushwood.”
“Why would they want timber putting against the walls?”
He lit a cigarette. “I asked that question myself. Apparently the lady who owns it was attacked by some sort of intruder. She’s scared people might get in and squat. If we put all this wood round it, weeds and things will grow through. Eventually, it’ll be impregnable. That’s the theory, anyway.”
“I’m sorry, that sounds mad. How will they themselves ever get back in again?”
“I just do what I’m paid to do. Anyway, that’s not all. Once we’ve finished putting timber round, we’ve got to put barbed wire round too. Lots of it.”
“Is that legal? This is a listed building, isn’t it?”
The man laughed. “Is it legal to lean something up against your house? Make things a bit difficult if it wasn’t.”
“I know, but surely - ”
“We’re not talking about a permanent fixture here. It’s not like an extension. Besides, mine’s not to reason why. I need the business. Now, thanks for the cash, but I’d better be getting back. We’re going to get rained on otherwise.”
He arrived home and went straight upstairs to his living room. Valérie would know where Noonie was. He picked up the phone. He had a message waiting. His mind raced. He dialled 1571, and waited.
It was a woman. “Hello, would like make booking for Chongdee restaurant. Thirty-eight ladies, represent two of Kingdom Thailand’s seventy-six chanwat each. Provinces are ...”
There followed three minutes during which she listed every one of Thailand’s provinces. She continued:
“Thirty-eight ladies, all hope be crowned next Miss Kingdom Thailand, here in your London city, tomorrow four. Thirty-eight sexy-fine ladies, third January, eight pee-em, tip well, wish to eat good food fine. See you, Mr Thanongsak, third January, eight pee-em. Feed well, we pay you too much. A-OK.”
The third? It was the third today. Bloody hell, he didn’t want to cook for thirty-eight people. He wanted to close the restaurant for good. He smiled bitterly. A few weeks ago, cooking for thirty-eight potential Miss Thailands would have been his wildest dream come true.
But maybe it was too late to turn them away. Fresh vegetables might be a problem but his supplier owed him a favour. And he could bring in extra seats. He felt something of life returning as he contemplated the logistics. For a short time at least he was going to be a restaurateur again.
He had to ring Valérie. He dialled the number and looked out at the street.
“Thanongsak,” she said without enthusiasm.
“How’s the holiday going?”
“It’s lovely.”
“Valérie, why is the house being boarded up?”
“The house? I can’t see the point of keeping it open, Thanongsak. We’re never coming back to live there. Susan’s going to get it in the will and she’s welcome to it. It’s cursed, a genuine horror house.”
“So ... is Charles dead, then?”
“Hadn’t you heard?”
“I’ve been in Thailand.”
“Presumably, you haven’t heard about Noonie either, then.”
“What about Noonie?”
“Oh, dear ... She took an overdose when Charles died. She’s in a coma. Not that it’s anything to do with me any more. She was never family or anything like that. Still, I do feel a bit sorry for her.”
“Oh, my God.”
“She’s only in a coma. She’ll wake up. They all do.”
He put his fingertips on his forehead. “No, no, that’s only in films, Valérie. In real life, they never do. Or hardly ever.”
“Let’s not be too negative, eh?”
“Look, Valérie, I’m going to go back to the police and tell them the truth about what happened that day. The day Edward broke in and Susan assaulted you.”
“Are you?”
“You don’t sound that annoyed.”
“I think it’s a marvellous idea. Are you serious?”
“Absolutely.”
“You see, Phillip and I are a bit worried that Edward Grant’s ... well, going to come after us now that – when, I mean, he gets out of prison. If you were to say framing him was your idea, Phillip and I could claim what’s called ‘False Memory Syndrome’. We could claim our ‘memories’ of the event were implanted by you. We were bashed on our heads, after all. We’d obviously be susceptible to something like that. And we could get a reputable psychologist to examine us, make it all kosher.”
“And Edward Grant would leave you alone.”
“Exactly.”
“He’d come after me, instead.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. You two were friends. And you’ll be friends again, believe me. He’ll get over it. No, the trouble with that sort of thing is, you can more or less take it if it’s your friend that’s responsible. It’s when third parties start muscling in that you get annoyed.”
He had no inclination to argue. “I’ll go to the police and confess.”
“Don’t implicate us, though.”
“I won’t.”
“Good boy. We’ll go and see a psychologist. Come and see us when all this is over. Ring me if you want anything. Ciao.”
She put the phone down.
He thrust the balls of his palms over his eyes and took a deep breath. He’d murdered her. Of course she’d loved Edward Grant. It was obvious now. And Edward had probably loved her. He could feel his constitution drying out as if he were turning to sand.
The phone rang. He threw himself back on his sofa and groaned. What now? He didn’t want to speak to Valérie again. He’d done enough to reassure her and she disgusted him almost as much as he disgusted himself. After twelve rings the answer phone took over.
“Hello, Mr Thanongsak? You home? Thirty-eight gorgeous ladies - ”
He slapped the sofa and picked up. “Look, I got your message. Next time leave a return number, okay? Sorry, no chance. It’s too short notice and I’m short-staffed. In fact, there’s just me and I haven’t - ”
“Aw, Mr Chongdee, ladies will be so disappointed. Tell you what, we come anyway, help prepare food. Good for you spirit. We got good menu. This what we want, yah? You got pen and pad ready? Here go, sir. Twenty one Tom Kar Kai soup, six Yum Talay salad ...”
He put the receiver down on the sofa. His throat constricted, his face began to tingle and his body shook. He put his head between his knees and folded his hands over the back of his neck.
Meanwhile, the caller relayed her epic order into the answer phone.
Thanongsak got into Appleton’s Fiat Panda and fastened his seat belt. It smelt like a new car and yet it had to be at least fifteen years old. Appleton pulled out into the traffic.
“We might begin your rehabilitation,” Appleton said, “by letting George Grant know his brother’s not guilty.”
“What? George doesn’t know? But surely Edward must have told him?”
“Let me bring you up to speed. George is in love with Susan. He fell in love with her the day of Vivienne’s funeral and vice-versa. All the time Susan was apparently besotted with Edward, it was mistaken identity. It was only because you pummelled Edward and lied to the police that the truth finally emerged. Edward didn’t want Susan to go to jail so he ‘confessed’. His confession tallied with your lie and George and Susan were meant to live happily ever after. To answer your question, hardly anyone knows he’s not guilty. Edward himself of course, you, me, Valérie and Phillip.”
“And Susan. You’re forgetting Susan.”
“Apparently not. Susan’s had some sort of mental close-down. I’ve spoken to her, gently probed. Nothing. She’d certainly help Edward if she could. She’s not afraid of the police, bless her. But she can’t.”
They went over a speed-bump and turned right onto a tarmac drive. The Horace Walpole Memorial Hospital was a small, private institution on the outskirts of Maidenborough. Noonie was somewhere inside. They got out at the front door.
“Here we are,” Appleton said. “Let’s go inside and see what a piece of work you’ve done.”
Noonie’s room had a small bedside table with a bunch of artificial flowers in a glass vase and two chairs for visitors. Otherwise it was taken up by an infusion pump, an intravenous drip, a mechanical respirator, a heart-lung machine, a defibrillator, a catheter and a forest of tubes. Noonie herself was hardly visible.
Thanongsak stood and took it all in for a few moments. “So what now?”
“I’ve told you. I contact George. Susan sees a qualified psychologist and undergoes hypnotism in the presence of a court officer. A variety of forensic tests, which hopefully you’ll fund. Your confession, obviously.”
“When do we begin?”
“Up to you.”
“Will Noonie die?”
Appleton sighed. “Regrettably, that’s very probable.”
“I’ve got an idea. Why don’t you play her Madama Butterfly?”
Appleton fixed him with a look of utter contempt. Thanongsak had no idea where the suggestion had even come from. It was insane. And yet it was genuine.
Nor did he have any idea where the globules of grief came from, jumping from his throat like a cage full of creatures released from his stomach. He couldn’t stop them. He fell to his knees and let his arms dangle by his sides and sobbed. Appleton leant on the wall and watched him.
Suddenly one of the nurses burst in. She pulled herself to attention when she saw Appleton. “Is – is this her ... husband?”
Appleton smiled. “I’m afraid they didn’t quite make it that far, my dear.”
An hour later, they pulled up outside The Golden Wave. Thanongsak got out. During the journey, they’d agreed to tell George tonight and talk to the police tomorrow.
“You’re not going to kill yourself, are you?” Appleton said.
“Of course not. That would leave Edward in prison.”
“Just what I was thinking. It would be very bad karma to commit suicide before you’d sorted that out. You’d come back as something exceptionally unpleasant. Do you want to contact me tomorrow or should I contact you?”
“I’ll call you at around ten. We’ll talk then.”
Appleton nodded. Thanongsak closed the car door and watched Appleton as pulled away. He went into the restaurant.
There was a yellow envelope on the mat with his own name written on in Thai script. He opened it. It smelt strongly of perfume.
Dear Mr Chongdee,
Please accept this note as confirmation of my secretary’s earlier telephone booking of tables for thirty-eight persons, tonight at eight pm. As previously detailed, we require ...
There followed a list of one hundred and fourteen dishes: thirty-eight starters, thirty-eight main courses, thirty-eight puddings. The note ended:
We hope sufficient wine will be available to cater for our party.
It was hand-delivered so presumably she was already in the vicinity. Why had she spoken to him in pidgin-English when she apparently knew he knew Thai? Why wouldn’t she bloody go away?
He needed the money anyway. And he was a restaurateur: he’d spent his whole life preparing for customers. Nowadays it was easier than doing nothing.
He got into his car and drove to Maidstone. He got all the vegetables, herbs and spices he needed for more money, but in less time, than usual. He rushed home and began the tedious business of cooking everything to specification. At seven, he put his ‘fully booked this evening’ sign in the front window and switched on the lights and the water-feature. At eight, everything was ready. He hoped they wouldn’t be late. He wanted it over.
He looked into the restaurant itself. It was empty except for a single woman at the central table. She was in her late twenties or early thirties and her hair was in a smart bun. She wore a red and cream cheongsam and court shoes. A black clutch bag stood at the foot of her chair. Sitting with her back erect and her chin resting in her cradled fingers that way, she looked refined and elegant. Despite having told himself this was only a job, his breath was momentarily taken away.
He put his head around the kitchen door. “Thirty-eight ladies?”
She smiled an affirmative but said nothing.
“Are you the lady that phoned?”
“My secretary,” she said. “I’d be very grateful if you’d serve the meals immediately. The other thirty-seven women will be along shortly. Our coach is running slightly late.”
“But won’t it all go cold?”
“Let me worry about that. We’re on a very tight schedule. These women will do anything I tell them. They’re only Thai ladies, after all. If I tell them to eat cold food then that’s what they’ll do. Besides, it’ll be good for their figures.”
“Should we give them - ”
“Serve the food, please, Mr Thanongsak.”
He shrugged his shoulders. Her choice. All that mattered was to get it over and done with as soon as possible.
It took him ten minutes to serve all the soups and salads. She watched him come and go with detached amusement and smiled when they made eye-contact. There was no sign of the other thirty-seven ladies. Only the sound of the water-feature and the piped music broke the silence.
“Er, do you think you should ring them?” he said. “See where they are? ... Tell them their soup’s going cold?”
She sighed. She pulled an expensive-looking mobile out of her bag, keyed in a number and put it to her ear. “Hello, Suki? Is that Suki? ... Where are you? ... Yes? ... Tell him what? Okay ... How long? Okay.”
She replaced the phone in her bag. “I’m afraid we’re not going to have time for a starter, after all. Take it all away and serve the main course, please.”
“But this took hours of preparation!”
“Do you expect me to help you clear it away, by any chance?”
“No, I - ”
“I’ve just told you, we’re on a tight schedule. Please don’t make my life any more difficult than it already is.”
He bit his tongue. Normally, it made him almost tearful to have to clear away untouched food but this time he was unmoved. He poured everything into the draining bin and loaded the dishwasher. Ten minutes later, he had brought out all thirty-eight main courses. Still no sign of his customers.
“Is this some sort of practical joke?” he said.
“Would you like me to pay you now, perchance?”
“Where the hell are these ‘ladies’?”
“I can’t be held responsible for the English road-management system.”
“But the food’s going cold. If you’d allowed me to keep it in the oven, it would have stayed hot. You’re not even eating your own.”
“I’ll make you a deal, Mr Thanongsak. Serve out the puddings. If the ladies aren’t here in ten minutes, I’ll pay you double.”
“I don’t want double. I want to know what’s going on.”
“Oh, stop being so childish. Serve out the puddings and let’s put you out of your misery, shall we?”
“How will that put me out of my misery?”
“We’re on an all-expenses paid trip, Mr Thanongsak. The Thai government picks up the tab no matter what. We do this sort of thing all the time. Most restaurants are glad of the business. Now, would you like me to help you serve the puddings or do you think you can manage that yourself?”
“Do you want me to throw the main courses away?”
“No. Leave them here.”
“To go cold.”
“I’m not sure I like your tone of voice, Mr Thanongsak. Would you like me to leave you a claim form so you can apply for tonight’s fee from the embassy in London? Because that might take a long time, depending on the length of the claim-queue and how highly I rate your service. Otherwise, I can pay you tonight. It’s your choice. You can be pleasant ... or you can be obstructive.”
He suddenly realised he was in her power. He had closed the restaurant so often lately to be with Noonie that it was facing serious financial difficulties. This meal, if unpaid for, might just tip him into bankruptcy.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Serve the puddings.”
“I’ll need a few minutes. They’re not quite ready.”
“Take as much time as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
He went into the kitchen. On the plus side, this whole fiasco looked like being over more quickly than he’d anticipated. He took a can of coconut milk out of the fridge, fed it into the electric can-opener, took out six bowls and peeled and sliced ten bananas. These women probably preyed on Thai restaurants on the grounds that they’d be less prone to complain to the embassy. Well, they’d see about that. Lychees.
Ten minutes later, sweating heavily, he entered the restaurant with the first three desserts. He stopped. His mouth fell open. There must have been an accident. But what accident - ? All the main course dishes had been flipped over. Food dripped copiously from every table.
He looked from the mess to the woman responsible. “Whoops,” she said quietly.
“What? What have you done ...?”
She sprang from her seat and smashed her fist into his face. He flew backwards and onto the mock-shrine. The desserts crashed into the wall and one of the bowls smashed. His nose gushed blood and as he tried to right himself, her foot landed hard in his stomach. He collapsed again. Next thing, her shoe was on his neck.
“I could probably kill you now,” she said, “if I was to twist my instep properly. But sadly, I don’t know any Kung Fu. Just righteous indignation.”
He was half-retching. “I don’t – who? Who? - ”
“Don’t you remember me? You should. You actually wrote to me. ‘Dear Lek, excellent news. I’m glad. I guess that brings our little enterprise to an end. I haven’t seen Noonie. Rumour is she’s spending a lot of time with a blah, blah, blah.’ Ring any bells, eh? ‘Edward’?”
He gasped. “Wh - what are you going to do?”
She removed her foot from his neck, returned casually to her table and picked up her bag. “You don’t owe me any explanations any more. And I’m not going to demand any. I just popped by to let you know how I feel. Two things, though, before I go. Your chickens are coming home to roost, Thanongsak Chongdee. I went to see George Grant this afternoon. You might remember telling him you thought Edward was stalking Noonie? And then that Noonie had gone home to Thailand? Ring another bell? Of course he now knows you were lying on both counts. He was rather surprised to hear that Noonie was actually in love with Edward. I know she was in love with him for a fact. You see, she told Georgina and Georgina told me.
“Second thing. On a more practical level, I wouldn’t bother calling the police. My Daddy works at the Thai embassy. I used to get into big-style scrapes when I was at university, before I met my husband and mellowed. He’s got me out of worse than this. You won’t get me and you won’t get a penny.”
“I don’t want a penny,” he croaked. “I – I know I deserve what you just did. I’m going to the police station tomorrow to tell them everything. I know I can’t make things right again, I know that. But I did think I was in love with her, truly. I thought it was for the best.”
“You’re going to confess?”
“The wheels are already in motion. It’s all being taken care of. Dr Appleton is seeing George right now - ”
She snorted. “The Dr Appleton who’s in charge of Noonie?”
“How did you know about that?”
“You know about Prakong Yanphaisarn? Two different sets of clients, one investigation. He soon realised which was light and which dark. He’s sorry he got involved with the Swinter-Joneses now. Yes, I know who Dr Appleton is.”
“You say that as if you think he’s a villain. He’s not.”
“He’s the Swinter-Joneses’ man.”
“You’ve met Susan, haven’t you?”
“Valérie’s man, then.”
“Look, I don’t want to sound interfering, but if you just rely on the findings of a Private Detective who’s never met any of these people – no matter how competent - you’re going to make mistakes. At least let me tell you about Appleton.”
She took her mobile out.
“What are you doing?” he said.
“I’m ringing George Grant. He should be seeing Dr Appleton, yes? Ah, Mrs Strawbridge, Lek Shawcross here. Yes, lovely to speak to you again too. Could I speak to George, please? It’s quite urgent ... Oh, I see ... Oh, he did? That’s fine. No, don’t disturb him. Thank you, goodbye.”
“Well?”
“It seems you’re telling the truth about that, at least.”
“Don’t you want to know the truth about everything?”
She narrowed her eyes. He could see he’d piqued her curiosity.
“Amaze me,” she said.
