‘Great,’ I muttered as the owner gave me a curt nod, and I carried on. ‘This is totally crazy and ridiculous, CeCe,’ I groaned. ‘Just go back to Jack and tell him you’ll share his bed . . .’
Yet my legs propelled me forwards until I arrived at the beach on the other side of the peninsula. It was called Phra Nang and, aesthetically, it was even more beautiful than Railay. Because of this, it was a huge tourist spot for day-trippers, so I usually avoided it. Also, because the luxury Rayavadee Hotel backed onto it, there were scary security guards placed along its perimeter. Star and I had gone down there one night after the last long-tail boat had chugged off, and lain on our backs looking up at the stars. Five minutes later, a torch had been shone on our faces and we’d been told to leave. I tried to argue that all beaches in Thailand were public and the hotel security guards had no right to kick us off, but Star had shushed me as they’d manhandled us towards the path that led back to the plebs’ side of the peninsula.
That sort of thing burned in my soul, because the earth and its beauty had been created by nature to be enjoyed for free by everyone, not reserved for the rich.
As a streak of blue and purple lightning lit up the sky, I realised this wasn’t the moment to have a philosophical discussion with myself. Looking along the beach, I had a brainwave. The Cave of the Princess was at the far end of it, so I began to leg it across the sand. Two-thirds of the way along, huge drops of water began to fall on me. It felt like being pelted with small pieces of gravel.
I arrived at the entrance to the cave, staggered inside and threw my rucksack down. I looked up and remembered that for some reason there were actually two versions of the princess, both tiny doll-sized figures who nestled within small wooden temples, half hidden behind hundreds of assorted colourful garlands. On their altar, there were tea lights burning, which illuminated the inside of the cave with a comforting yellow glow.
I smiled to myself, recalling the first time that Star and I had visited the cave. Thinking it would be like any other Thai place of worship, we’d both expected a gold statue and the ubiquitous garland offerings. Instead, we’d been confronted by hundreds of phalluses of different shapes and sizes. I surveyed them now, poking upwards from the sandy floor of the cave like erotic stalagmites, and perched on the rocks all around. Red, green, blue, brown . . . small ones, big ones . . . Apparently, this particular deity was a goddess of fertility. And from the size of the instruments that crowded the cave – some of which towered above my own head – I wasn’t surprised.
However, tonight the Cave of the Princess was offering me sanctuary and I was out of the rain that was now streaming down like a curtain at the mouth of the cave. I stood up and walked through the selection of tributes, then knelt at the altar to say thank you. After that, I tucked myself into the side of the cave’s entrance and watched the storm.
The sky lit up in spectacular flashes as lightning raged over the sea and the jagged limestone pillars. The rain shone silver in the moonlight as it pounded onto the beach in sheets, as if God was crying buckets from up above.
Eventually, feeling wrung out by the spectacle and the sheer energy the universe possessed, I staggered upright. Moving me and my rucksack deeper into the cave, I laid out my bed for the night and fell asleep behind an enormous scarlet phallus.
4
‘Ouch!’
I sat up swiftly as I felt something hard dig me in the ribs. I looked up into the eyes of a Thai security guard, trying to shake off the deep sleep I’d been in. He hauled me from the floor, speaking fiercely into his radio at the same time.
‘Not stay here! Get out!’ he barked at me.
‘Okay, okay, I’m going.’ I bent down to pack my bedding into my rucksack. Another security guard, shorter and squatter than the first, arrived inside the cave to help out his mate and between the two of them, they manhandled me outside. I blinked in the light and saw the sun was just about to rise into a cloudless sky. They marched me along the beach, their hands clamped to my arms as though I was a dangerous criminal rather than a tourist who had simply taken shelter from the rain in a cave. The sand still felt damp beneath my feet, the only hint of last night’s spectacular downpour.
‘You don’t have to hold on to me,’ I said bad-temperedly. ‘I’m going, I really am.’
One of them let out a stream of aggressive-sounding Thai words that I couldn’t understand as we walked towards the path at the other end of the beach. I wondered if I was to be thrown into jail like in Bangkok Hilton, the Nicole Kidman TV series that had frightened me senseless. If the worst happened, I couldn’t even call Pa, who would have been over to Thailand in a shot to get me released.
‘Is that you again?’
I turned my head and saw the Werewolf lurking in the bushes at the back of the beach.
‘Yeah,’ I said, knowing my face was red with embarrassment.
‘Po, let her go,’ he ordered, walking towards us.
Immediately, the squat security guard released my arm, then the Werewolf talked in fast Thai to the taller guard, who reluctantly dropped my other arm.
‘Sorry, they’re very officious,’ he said in English, raising an eyebrow. He spoke to the two men again, then, his eyes sweeping along the beach, beckoned me to follow him. Both guards saluted him, looking really disappointed as they watched me stumble behind him towards the bushes.
‘How did you manage that?’ I asked. ‘I thought I was for the chop.’
‘I said you were a friend of mine. You’d better come in quickly.’
Then he took hold of my arm and dragged me through the foliage. Having had a few seconds’ reprieve, my heartbeat began to speed up again and I wondered if I was better off with the two security guards than following a man I didn’t know into a Thai jungle. I saw there was a high steel gate hidden amongst the greenery and watched as the Werewolf pressed some numbers on a keypad to the side of it. It opened smoothly and he ushered me beyond it. More trees followed, but then suddenly a vast and beautiful oasis of a garden came into view. To my right, I saw a large swimming pool, tiled in black and looking like something out of a design magazine. We walked through trees bedecked in a shower of golden blossoms, and onto a wide terrace full of wicker furniture with large, plump cushions being laid out on them by a maid in uniform.
‘Want some coffee? Juice?’ he asked me as we crossed the terrace.