The Orchid House (39 page)

Harry had looked at the map in Giselle’s office and knew they were travelling east down the coast, to a region called Trat. Koh Chang, a tiny dot suspended in the sea, was presumably reached by boat.

‘How long is the journey?’ Harry asked.

‘It take four hours to Chanthaburi, then we change. And another three hours to Trat,’ Lidia replied whilst expertly slicing a fresh mango from her basket and handing it to him. ‘Then my uncle come on his fishing boat and take us across to Koh Chang.’

‘Are your family expecting me?’

‘I cannot get word to them as no telephone on the island. But they will not mind. I promise, Harry. But at Chanthaburi,’ she waved her knife at him and smiled, ‘we buy you some clothes.’

‘I have clothes, Lidia.’ Harry indicated the small case on the rack above his head.

Lidia giggled. ‘No, no, Harry, your clothes no good to wear for
Song Kran
festival. You will see what I mean.’ She smiled mysteriously.

The train, belching a plume of smoke, left the straggling outskirts of the city and made its way along a track lined with hundreds of huge banana plants. Children waved to them as they passed, smiling eagerly. Lidia dozed next to him; how she could manage to sleep on the hard wooden bench, Harry could not imagine. But with her head dropping on to his shoulder and the sweet smell of the oil she used on her hair filling his nostrils, Harry felt at peace. He was with her, close to her, for an entire three days, and just now could think of nowhere he would rather be.

He must have dozed off too, for the next thing he knew the train was coming to a halt and Lidia was shaking him gently. He roused himself, collected his case and followed Lidia on to the platform. They were immediately surrounded by hawkers, plying them with food, drink, jasmine garlands and roughly carved wooden animals. Lidia led Harry away and sat him down on a bench under a bamboo canopy.

‘You stay here. I go to get lunch.’

A small Thai child approached him, smiling shyly, fascinated by him. Harry mopped his brow and took a sip of water, as Lidia returned with lunch and put a pile of thin cotton sheets in front of him. ‘Try these on.’

‘For me to wear?’ he asked, holding up a red tablecloth and discovering it was a pair of trousers with what seemed to be a small apron attached to the front. There was also a loose white cotton shirt.

She pointed to a bamboo cabin nearby. ‘Try on in there.’

He stripped as fast as he could, relieved to be out of his heavy twill trousers and finest quality cotton shirt, and put on the items Lidia had given him. He struggled to navigate the workings of the unusual three-quarter-length trousers, but eventually managed to secure the apron across his front as the locals did, making him look as though he was wearing a skirt.

The Thai child was standing waiting outside with Lidia and let out peals of laughter when she saw him.

‘I’m sure I do look awfully silly,’ he said, embarrassed.

‘No, Harry,’ said Lidia softly. ‘You look like Thai man now. Better for island and
Song Kran
. Now, I go to change.’ Lidia left, and Harry amused himself teaching the child English words. He was rewarded with a beautiful smile and a rough pronunciation of the words he spoke to her.

Harry couldn’t help a gasp when Lidia reappeared. Instead of her Western uniform, she was wearing a pair of trousers similar to his and a simple Chinese-style cotton blouse in pink. But the most noticeable change was in her hair: she had freed it from the tight knot at the back of her head. It now cascaded in a shining, ebony mass over her shoulders and down to her waist.

Harry reached out his fingers involuntarily, longing to run them through the utter luxuriant femininity of it. He looked down and saw her tiny, delicate feet were bare. The perfect toes transfixed him. He wasn’t used to seeing women’s feet in England. The sight seemed so intimate, so naked, that Harry experienced a surge through his groin. He was glad that the strange apron he was wearing had some use.

‘Now, we must get on new train,’ said Lidia.

Harry said goodbye to the little girl and stood up to follow Lidia.

A voice behind them shouted: ‘You two in love! You get marry!’

They travelled for three exhausting hours. Harry felt terribly relieved when the train finally stopped. A short bus ride took them to a pier, and when Harry stepped off he was greeted by an idyllic expanse of turquoise sea and a cloud-covered, mountainous land mass in the distance.

‘That is Koh Chang,’ Lidia pointed out. ‘See, there is my uncle, waiting for us!’

Harry followed Lidia to one of the numerous wooden fishing boats that bobbed gently by the pier. He hung back as Lidia greeted her uncle affectionately. There followed a conversation in fast Thai and some pointing at Harry, before Lidia beckoned him over.

‘Harry, this is Tong, my uncle, but he speak no English.’

Uncle Tong bowed to him in the traditional Thai greeting and rose with a big toothless grin and a hearty handshake. He spoke to Harry, and Lidia translated for him that he was pleased to welcome him into the family for the tradition of
Song Kran.

‘Please tell your uncle I am honoured to be here,’ Harry replied as Tong helped him down into the boat, and they set off towards Koh Chang.

As they crossed the calm ocean, the sinking sun made its sudden dive into the sea and the light began to fade. Within fifteen minutes they were pulling in to the shore and darkness had fallen. Tong reached beneath him and pulled out two oil lamps, which he lit. Lidia glanced at Harry excitedly as her uncle helped him on to terra firma, and he felt the touch of soft sand beneath his feet.

‘Welcome, Harry, to my father’s island home,’ Lidia smiled.

It was difficult for Harry to have any reaction to his surroundings as it was now pitch-black, but they were walking along a beach. And nestled amongst high palm trees were wooden huts, lit by the soft glow of oil lamps. As they drew nearer, a group of children and an elderly woman came across the sand to them. They shouted greetings to Lidia and she ran towards them. Harry watched as she was encircled in the old woman’s arms, and presumed this was Lidia’s grandmother. When Lidia turned back to him, the oil lamp reflected the glistening in her eyes.

‘Come, Harry, come and meet my family. They are pleased that you are here to celebrate
Song Kran
with us.’

Harry met the extended family: Lidia’s grandmother and grandfather, her uncle and aunt with their four children, and a further aunt and her husband with their three children.

Harry was handed a bottle of beer by Tong. He sat down on one of the mats on the sand and was immediately surrounded by small nieces and nephews. They all spoke a little English, and fired questions at Harry about him fighting in the war and whether he had killed any Japs. He answered them as best he could, not sure they understood much of what he was saying, but becoming very adept as a mime artist. When he pointed his pretend gun at a pretend Japanese soldier, the children veered off round the beach, shouting ‘Bang! Bang!’ and aiming their own imaginary guns.

Lidia came out of the darkness and sat down gracefully next to him. ‘Tonight you sleep here in hut on beach. My aunt, she prepare it for you now.’

‘Thank you,’ Harry answered. ‘Where will you stay?’

‘At my grandmother’s house, in village behind beach.’

‘So who lives here?’ he asked.

‘My Uncle Tong, Aunt Kitima and their children. He is fisherman, so he like to be near work. They are building big house in village now and one day they go to live there.’

‘I would stay right here,’ he murmured as he glanced up at the moon. He had studied its cycle for want of anything better to do on those long nights in Changi. From the size and shape of it now, Harry knew it would be full this time tomorrow. He could hear the waves breaking gently on the sand, only fifty yards from him. ‘It’s so marvellously soothing,’ he added.

‘I am glad you like. You are ready for food now?’ Lidia indicated the smoky fire and the grill of fat, fresh fish suspended over it.

Harry nodded and heaved himself upright.

They all sat together at a long wooden table, the children sitting on mats around the adults, eating the best fish Harry had ever tasted in his life. The children had big coconuts and drank the milk inside with relish. Much of the talk around him he couldn’t understand; yet the language of a happy, warm, comfortable family gathering was universal. Lidia was sitting between her grandparents and she often glanced over to him, her eyes asking him if he was all right.

He always smiled back: he was.

An hour or so later, Harry felt the exertions of the day catching up with him. He yawned, but tried to disguise it.

Lidia noticed immediately, then whispered across the table to her aunt, who clapped her hands together. The children around her fell silent. She spoke to them and they nodded sadly, knowing that their time cavorting around the beach was coming to a close and they must go to bed.

Lidia walked over to Harry. ‘My aunt show you where you sleep,’ she said. ‘I come and get you tomorrow, okay?’

‘There is absolutely no rush, Lidia. Please enjoy your family. I am very content just to be here. And your family has been very welcoming. Please say thank you to them for me.’

‘Now, Harry, you can say that for yourself,’ she encouraged.

‘Yes, of course.
Kop khun krup
,’ he said, and bowed rather stiffly. The smiles he received were ones of affection and appreciation, not derision. He followed Lidia’s aunt along the beach and she indicated the last hut.

‘Mister Harry, we pleased … have you.’ She returned his effort with halting English.

‘Thank you,’ he said, turning the wooden handle of the hut. ‘Goodnight.’ He stepped inside, closed the door and turned to see that the hut was bare, bar a mattress on the floor, a freshly laundered sheet and a mosquito net. Too exhausted to remove his clothes, he lay down on the bed and fell asleep immediately.

38

When Harry woke to a slight ache in his hip bone from the thin mattress, he had a moment of panic. Then he realised where he was and opened his eyes. The room was still in shadow, the only light coming from a small mesh window facing the palm trees at the back of the hut. Harry stretched, stood upright and went to open the door.

He gasped at the sight that met his eyes.

He was standing on a magnificent beach, its powdery white sand stretching in a curve and ending in a hilly, wooded peninsula. The sand shelved gently towards a calm, deep-green sea. He looked to his left, then to his right, and could not see another living soul.

Harry stripped to his long johns and raced across the burning hot sand to jump into the sea. He swam hard for a while, then turned over and lay on his back, looking first at the perfect azure sky, then back towards land, where coconut palms drooped and swayed idyllically, framing the beach. Behind the beach, and stretching, cloud-topped, into the distance, were jungle-covered mountains, providing what must be an impassable hinterland.

He floated there for a long time, hardly believing that this paradise was his, and his alone to enjoy. Finally, he came out of the sea and flopped on to the hot white sand, feeling euphoric at the sheer beauty of this magical place.

He saw a small figure holding a parasol walking towards him and sat up. It was Lidia, wearing a concerned frown. ‘You okay, Harry?’ she called. ‘We think you gone away, but then we see your clothes.’ She smiled at him shyly.

Embarrassed that she had caught him in his soggy long johns, Harry stood up and walked swiftly back towards the hut.

‘I decided to go for a swim,’ he said. ‘Lidia, this beach is the most glorious spot I have ever seen in my life.’

Her face lit up. ‘I glad you like it, Harry. It is good for peace, yes?’

‘Gosh, yes.’ He wagged his finger at her. ‘I am warning you, I may never want to leave.’

‘Then you must become fisherman,’ she said, handing him his clothes.

‘I can learn,’ Harry nodded, ‘if it means I can stay here forever.’

‘You want to go for wash?’ she asked. ‘There is water pipe behind my uncle and aunt’s hut, and cloth for you to dry yourself. I wait here.’ Lidia sat down on the doorstep of his hut.

Harry returned five minutes later, feeling refreshed after a blast of clean, cold water.

‘Now, we walk to village and I take you to my grandmother house, okay?’ She reached for his hand and squeezed it. ‘And happy
Song Kran
,
Khun
Harry.’

He loved the touch of her fingers on his. ‘And the same to you,’ Harry replied, suddenly desperate to take her in his arms and kiss her.

They made their way along a narrow, sandy path for ten minutes to reach the village. As they turned into the dusty main street, they were both drenched by a pail of water thrown by a couple of children, who screamed in glee at their accuracy.

‘What the heck!’ exclaimed Harry, the cold water taking him by surprise.

Lidia was doing her best to shake herself dry. She giggled. ‘
Song Kran
, it is about cleansing, taking away all dirt from past, and making new and fresh for the future. Look …’

Harry followed where she was pointing. Everywhere along the dusty street, there were people of assorted ages holding a miscellany of implements, throwing water on to any hapless passer-by in the way.

‘Today is one day you will never get too hot,’ Lidia laughed, ‘and you will not be dry either!’

She was climbing up the steps to a wooden house built on stilts. On the veranda was a collection of pails and buckets, filled with water.

‘This is my grandparents’ house,’ Lidia explained, ‘and now you must throw some water like this. See?’ Lidia took one of the pails and chucked it into the street; Harry did the same, managing to hit a small boy, who shrieked and giggled as he shook the water out of his eyes.

‘Sorry,’ called Harry guiltily.

‘No!’ Lidia shook her head. ‘You must not say sorry! The more people you hit, the luckier for New Year.’

‘I see,’ said Harry.

Lidia led him inside the house and into the kitchen at the back, where three or four women were busy preparing vegetables, fish, noodles and soup for later in the day.