— Chapter One —
The silence was broken by a high-pitched screech, followed by several beeps. A hand came out from under a small bundle of blankets and slapped the top of the alarm clock. Mumbling, the sound of breaking wind and the grating of a scrotum being scratched signalled that Stu was finally awake; he pulled back the blankets and rolled out of bed. He made his way over to the light switch. ‘Bloody freezing’, he thought, ‘but never mind as this time tomorrow I will be basking in the sunshine’. He looked over to an armchair, where a white bundle of fur lay with its eyes open, staring at Stu as he switched on the light.
“Come on, lazy dog; get your useless carcass up. You are going on holiday,” said Stu
Stu had moved back to Cleethorpes, a small northern English coastal town, and had been living there in a flat above a hair salon for four years. Although born and raised there, he had moved away when he was 17 and joined the Royal Navy. After 14 years he’d left the navy, and spent the next several years moving around the country before deciding to return to Cleethorpes and set up a furniture business. Stu purchased a cheap dilapidated shop house and fixed it up so that it was habitable. He rented out the shop to a hairdresser, and a downstairs flat behind the shop he had leased to his friend. Stu lived upstairs with his old white boxer dog, ‘Chunky’.
Although he’d had several women in his life they had never stayed with him long; possibly due to the fact they didn’t really like him, he remained alone with his faithful companion, who he had dragged around the country for eight years. Chunky was purchased as an eighteen-month-old unwanted pet and, when brought from the animal rescue shelter to meet her new owner, she had thought she was in for an easy life. Poor, misguided animal.
Chunky was well known for her stupidity and affection, by both the neighbours and local fire department, which had been called out on many occasions to free her head from the many railings and other obstacles that she had managed to become stuck in.
Now into December, England was cold, and the icy chill cut to the bone. Keeping extremities warm was a full time task, with the long periods of darkness causing deep depression among many of its inhabitants. England was not a nice place to live during the winter months, which is why Stu had decided to take his holidays now. He had staff that could take care of his business, and his friend, Tony, to take care of Chunky. He would be back before Christmas so he could spend time with his mum and friends.
Stu was short but stocky, with a well-formed beer gut. He would be the perfect weight for his height, if he was six foot five, but he fell short of that by over a foot. His mousy brown hair always looked uncombed, mainly because it was and, although he thought he looked handsome, in reality he had looks that only a mother could love. Not a rich man but never short of money, he had worked hard for what he had earned, and had the reputation of being thrifty; ‘as tight as a duck’s arse in water,’ to be more accurate.
His friend Spock lived in Stu’s downstairs flat. The two had been friends since childhood and had always kept in contact throughout the years, sharing many drunken adventures whenever Stu was in town. This included having his neighbourhood closed off by armed police, looking for a crazed man in a checked shirt waving a shotgun around. This was actually a shitfaced Stu, who had borrowed Spock’s air rifle with its telescopic sights to look for a comet, which was supposed to have been easily viewed in the northeast night sky. Due to the fact that Stu didn’t know which direction was northeast, he went outside and searched the sky using the rifle’s sights, but to no avail, so he gave up, went inside and drank some more. Within ten minutes the street was swarming with armed police searching for a crazy man waving a gun around.
Spock had recently finished a relationship with his long-time girlfriend, who had decided after ten years together that she didn’t really like him. She did, however, like her boss at the fish processing factory where she worked. She even liked his new black eye and crooked nose, courtesy of Spock.
Stu found a cheap flight on the Internet to Bangkok and Pattaya and, after finding out they were in Thailand, advertised as the ‘Land of Smiles’, the two had booked 15 nights, flying from Manchester on 7th December. They met several local lads who had already been to Pattaya and, after they had told them what to expect, they decided they had made the right decision.
Stu had a hot shower, pulled on his jeans and a thick shirt, and made himself a cup of tea. He opened a tin of dog food, which he scooped into a bowl, and went into the living room, leaving Chunky with her snout buried in the food. He sat in his armchair and went through everything silently in his mind. Bags packed - ‘check’. Tickets, passport, traveller’s cheques, - ‘check’. Condoms - ‘check’. Dog food, 16 days supply - ‘check’. Train tickets - ‘check’. He knew that he had forgotten something but could not think what it was. Then he realised. “Shit!” He rushed out of his armchair and raced off downstairs.
“Spock, are you awake!” he bellowed through the wall to the downstairs flat.
“Yes matey,” came a muffled reply and continued, “I’ll be up there in ten minutes. What time are you taking the dog and what time’s the taxi coming?”
Spock, whose real name is Peter Harris, and was a similar age to Stu, is a giant of a man with a large build and shaven head, making him resemble a large primate. He had earned his nickname at school because of his unusually large ears. Although not pointed, his lugs bore an uncanny resemblance to those of Star Trek’s resident Vulcan, so he had been nick-named ‘Spock’. The name had stayed with him all his life and even he sometimes forgot that his real name was Peter. He loved his newly single life, loved the parties, and loved his work as a hygiene engineer. (Dustbin man.)
Spock was the life and soul of any party with his unusual party tricks. He would sit down, lift his legs to his neck, break wind and ignite this rather lethal gas that produced a blue flame as methane met spark. He had lost all his top teeth in a run-in with a lump of 4x2 wooden club wielded by an unhappy customer during his stint as a ‘bouncer’ several years ago. So, his other favourite trick was to remove his denture’s, which he would then drop into some poor innocent drinker’s pint of beer and then, with a big cheerful laugh, apologise and offer to finish off the drink for them. This practice had all but ceased after one night at their favourite Indian restaurant, ‘The Tiger of Bengal’. Severely spannered, Spock decided to put his dentures into a girls drink. In went the false teeth, but instead of shrieking hysterically, the girl just calmly finished her drink, tipped out the dentures and promptly threw them across the restaurant. Everyone found this amusing, except for Spock. The false gnashers were passed along, Spock ran around and tried unsuccessfully to find out who had them, the restaurant’s patrons were in hilarious uproar. The dentures were eventually found buried in a half-eaten bowl of Bombay mix and taken to the kitchen, cleaned and brought back to Spock on a small silver platter by a very perturbed Indian waiter. The restaurant is now fondly known as ‘The Teeth of Bengal’.
The terrible two-some were now on their way. Chunky had been taken to her new residence for the next 16 days and the lads were on the 12:40 train to Manchester airport. They weren’t due to fly out until 21:50, but they wanted to give themselves plenty of time to check in with China Airways and have a few drinks. They had got as far as Scunthorpe, a small industrial town 20 minutes from Cleethorpes, when Spock opened his small hand luggage and produced a half-full bottle of whisky.
“Still three hours until we get to the airport, so we might as well finish this off,” said Spock and continued “after all, we are on holiday and it would be a shame not to.”
They arrived in plenty of time and checked in their luggage. They were allocated aisle seats and when told about the free drink service on the flight, they felt even happier.
On the aeroplane, they met Nick, who was in the seat next to Spock and, as luck would have it, was travelling to Pattaya. Nick was staying three weeks, as he did not want to be in England over Christmas. He chuckled and told them that he would have a better Christmas in Pattaya. Nick stayed with his sister in Brighton, a southern English coastal resort, and made this journey many times a year, both for leisure pursuits and business, which, as he explained, was buying copy designer clothes and watches to sell back in the U.K. He explained how it was becoming more difficult due to the Thai government’s restrictions on copy merchandise. He gave Spock and Stu some information about what to expect in Pattaya, the routine about paying bar girls, where to change money and how much to pay for things. The two lads listened intently, especially about the girls. The only time they spoke was when Stu asked about brothels, to which Nick replied, chuckling.
“There aren’t any. Wait and see.” That became his standard reply to all their questions.
“Wait and see. Just remember whatever you do, fall in love with the place, but do not fall in love with the girls.”
Nick was a typical ‘Jack the Lad’. Fairly tall and lean, he spoke with a cockney accent, which he explained he had picked up after spending many years in London working on construction sites.
‘Too puny for a builder; probably a sandwich boy,’ thought Stu. The three got on like a house on fire and they decided to stick together once they reached Pattaya.
Stu and Spock had never bothered to book a hotel. A friend advised them that it would be cheaper, and easier, to find a hotel once they arrived. This worried them both but Nick confirmed it, stating that he always stayed at the same hotel, which always had plenty of available rooms, even during high season. (‘High Season’ in Thailand runs from November until March) This eased both their minds.
The 12 hour flight brought them to Bangkok’s Don Muang. International Airport at the local time of 16:50, and once off the plane, the first priority involved several cigarettes in one of the smoking rooms within the airport. Once their nicotine levels had risen, they made their way through Immigration, collected their luggage, cleared customs and headed into the main airport building. They felt grimy and weary, but Nick said that it would soon pass when they arrived in Pattaya. Stu and Spock stopped at a currency exchange kiosk and converted £100’s worth of traveller’s cheques into Thai Baht, at the exchange rate of 72 Baht to the pound. They made their way to the sliding exit doors, Stu and Spock took in the sights, namely the beautiful olive skinned women who were walking around the airport, and they giggled like two naughty schoolboys.
It was the same when they were ten years old and their classmate, Mary Tate, lifted her skirt and pulled down her knickers behind the school bike shed, she gave the two embarrassed young lads a glimpse of something they would spend their adult life pursuing.
Nick walked on, shaking his head. ‘These two are in for a shock’, he thought. Stopping at the automatic sliding exit doors, Spock and Stu glanced at each other, they then both looked straight ahead and in unison spoke,
“Well Thailand, we’re here.”
They took another pace forward and the automatic doors silently slid open and they all stepped out of the cool air-conditioned airport building into the warm night.
Spock and Stu faced each other and together hollered,
“Fuck me! It’s hot.”