‘Everything full. First available flight is eighth of January.’
‘Okay,’ I agreed, glad I could now blame fate for having to stay on longer. Then I booked a return flight from Bangkok to Krabi, leaving early the following morning.
Back in my hotel room, I took a shower, brushed my teeth and climbed into bed feeling calmer. If my sisters heard, I knew they would all say that I was ‘bumming around’ again, but I didn’t care.
Like an injured animal, I was going away to hide and lick my wounds.
2
The best thing about Railay Beach is that it’s on a peninsula and you can only reach it by boat. Star and I had travelled to many incredible places, but sitting on a wooden bench in a long-tail boat speeding noisily across an aquamarine sea, and that first sight of the incredible limestone pillars rising into a deep blue sky, had to be up there in my top five magical moments.
As we drew closer, I saw ropes attached to the rock, with humans who looked like multicoloured ants dressed in bright fluorescent shorts scaling its surface. As I heaved my rucksack onto my shoulders and clambered off the boat, my skin prickled in anticipation. Although my limbs were short, they were strong and agile, and rock climbing was one of the things I was actually good at. Not a useful skill for someone who lived in the centre of London and wanted to be an artist, but in a place like this, it meant something. I thought about how, depending where you were on the earth, your particular strengths and weaknesses were either positives or negatives. In school I was a dunce, whereas Star was, literally, a superstar. Yet here in Krabi, she’d faded into the shadows and sat on the beach with a book, while I’d revelled in all the outdoor activities the area had to offer. The great outdoors was my element, as Ma had once commented, and I had been more well known in the community here than Star.
The colour of the water around me was unique: turquoise one moment as the sun glinted on it, then a deep green in the sheltered shadows beneath the huge rocks. As I waded onto land through the shallows, I saw the beach spread out in front of me: a gentle crescent of white sand edged by the enormous limestone pillars, with palm trees dotted intermittently between the basic wooden shacks that housed the hotels and bars. The calming sound of reggae music emanated from one of them.
I trudged across the burning white sand towards the Railay Beach Hotel, where we’d stayed last year, and leant on the bar-cum-reception tucked inside the wooden veranda.
‘Hi,’ I said to a young Thai woman I didn’t recognise. ‘Do you have a room available for the next few weeks?’
The woman studied me and got out a large reservations folder. She traced her finger carefully down each page, then shook her head.
‘Christmas coming. Very busy. No room after twenty-first.’
‘Just the next two weeks then?’ I suggested.
I felt a hand suddenly slap my back.
‘Cee? It is you, isn’t it?’
I turned round and saw Jack, an Australian bundle of tall, toned muscle, who owned the hotel and ran the rock-climbing school on the beach round the corner.
‘Yeah, hi.’ I grinned at him. ‘I’m just checking in, at least for a couple of weeks, anyway, then I get kicked out. Apparently you’re fully booked.’
‘Sure we can find you a cupboard somewhere, darl, don’t worry about that. Your sister here with you?’
‘Er, no. Just me this time.’
‘How long are you staying?’
‘Until after New Year.’
‘Well, if you want to give me a hand at the rock, let me know. I could do with it, Cee. Business goes mad this time of year.’
‘I might. Thanks,’ I said.
‘You fill out details.’ The Thai receptionist handed me a card.
‘Don’t worry about that, Nam,’ Jack told her. ‘Cee was here with her sister last year so we have them already. Come on. I’ll show you to your room.’
‘Thanks.’
As Jack picked up my rucksack, I saw the receptionist giving me the evils.
‘Where are you headed after here?’ he asked companionably as he led me along a wooden walkway, off which a series of basic rooms lay behind a row of battered doors.
‘Australia,’ I replied as we stood in front of room twenty-two, at the end of the walkway. I saw it was slap bang next door to the generator, with a view of two big wheelie bins.
‘Ah, my home country. Which part?’
‘The northwest coast.’
‘Blistering this time of year, y’know.’
‘The heat doesn’t bother me,’ I said as I unlocked my door.
‘Well, see ya around.’ Jack gave me a wave and ambled off.
Even though the room was tiny, humid and smelt strongly of rubbish, I dumped my rucksack on the floor, feeling more chipper than I had in weeks, because it felt so good to be known. I’d loved my occasional days working at the rock-climbing school last year, checking the ropes and fastening clients into their harnesses. At the time, Star and I had been short of cash and Jack had knocked some money off our room in return. I wondered what he’d say if I told him I didn’t need to work any more, because I was now a millionairess. On paper, anyway . . .
I tugged on a frayed piece of cord to switch on the ceiling fan, and eventually, with a lot of clanking and squeaking, it began to turn, stirring up only a whisper of breeze. Discarding my clothes, I put on my bikini and a sarong I’d bought here last year, then left my room and wandered down to the beach. I sat on the sand for a bit, chuckling at the fact that here in ‘paradise’, what with all the long-tail boats motoring in and out of the bay, it was a million times noisier than living on the river in the centre of London. I stood up, walked down to the shore and waded into the sea. When I was far enough out, I lay on my back in the gorgeous water, looked up at the sky and thanked God, or Buddha, or whomever I was meant to thank, that I’d come back to Krabi. I felt at home for the first time in months.
*