Tika Read online

  Table of Contents

  Tika

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  About the Author

  Tika

  A short story

  E-book, 1st edition 2013

  Text by Guy Lilburne

  Edited by Jules Lee & Burnie Sinclair

  eISBN 978-616-222-204-7

  Published by www.booksmango.com

  E-mail: [email protected]

  Text & cover page Copyright© Guy Lilburne

  Cover model: Miss Thanthip

  No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, stored or transmitted in any form without prior written permission from the publisher

  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are entirely drawn from the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Chapter 1

  There was something very relaxing, almost therapeutic, about watching the old long tailed boat gently bobbing up and down in the slow swell of the Andaman Sea. Brightly coloured silks of red and green were tied around the long bow neck and wafted in the soft breeze. Simon Carter had been sitting under a palm tree for over two hours; just staring at the boat, smoking joints and strumming away on his guitar. Not really thinking about anything. Just chilling! He had been in Patong for three weeks already and he had found this little beach a few days ago when he was exploring the area on his hired motorbike. The locals called the beach ‘Paradise Beach’.

  Thailand, and Patong in particular, offered Simon Carter everything that he thought he needed and he was feeling a calmness, even a happiness that he had not been able to experience for a long time. He was able to enjoy the bright lights, music and noise, and of course the pretty girls of the bars during the hours of darkness, while during the daytime he would drive out of Patong and find a beach or some countryside to sit and lose himself. He had an easy going charm that the ladies in any country to which he had ever been seemed to really like. He was a quiet, gentle character and had a real interest in every person to whom he had ever spoken. He had the knack of making people feel important and special.

  The girls who worked in the small hotel on Patong Beach where Simon was staying really enjoyed this handsome farang (foreigner) staying at their hotel because he smiled a lot and tried to wai (The traditional Thai greeting of putting your hands together in prayer-like fashion) them all the time, even though he wasn‘t very good at it. His long blonde hair, brilliant white teeth and slim well-toned body caused a lot of discussion amongst the staff and each day they all found some excuse to gather near the hotel reception to watch him drive off on his motorbike, bare chested, with his guitar strapped to his back. Everyone noticed Simon zipping along the roads wearing his dark sunglasses and his blonde hair blowing in the wind. He looked at least five years younger than his 35 years of life. He had always been aware that he was attractive to the opposite sex, but it didn’t matter much to him; he knew more than most that there are more important things in life.

  The first day that he had found ‘Paradise Beach’ he had sat in the little wooden bar that snuggled at the bottom of the rocky steps at the entrance to the beach. However, he found that the friendly staff talked to him too much and were too entertained by his guitar playing to leave him alone. He didn’t want to talk and he didn’t want to play to amuse the customers and the staff at the bar. For the last couple of days he had bought a beer from the bar and gone to sit under a palm tree further along the beach and played the guitar to himself. Despite his warm smile and easy charm there was a sadness about Simon that people noticed, but nobody ever asked him about it. Surely people so handsome can’t be so sad!

  Paradise beach was quiet, with only a few tourists finding their way to it. It was more popular with the locals and quite a few of the bar girls came in small groups to relax, chat and eat food on the beach in between sleeping and going back to work in the bars. It didn’t have the speed boats, paragliding and jet-ski’s that cluttered the much bigger and busier Patong Beach. Somehow, the sea seemed bluer here and it was as warm as bath water.

  Yesterday Simon had noticed a very attractive Asian lady sitting some way further along the beach from him. He could see that she was older than he was, but she had a beauty and an indefineable elegance about her. Even on this quiet beach, with hardly anyone around, and certainly nobody who would know her, she didn’t remove her sarong. Simon thought her shyness, or vanity, was quite cute and sort of sexy. He could see through her sarong that she had on a white bikini. It wasn’t just her attractive looks that had drawn Simon’s attention. She had the same sadness and loneliness that had always seemed to shadow him.

  Today Simon saw her away in the distance, slowly walking along the sand, the sea lapping on her feet as she strolled along at the edge of the water. Sometimes she stopped and kneeled down to inspect a shell or a crab, or whatever it was that had caught her attention. She had noticed the handsome blonde white man yesterday and she had wished that she had sat nearer to him, so that she would have been able to listen to his guitar. Today she intended to, but without making it obvious. It wasn’t in her nature to be this forward; she was shy by nature and had experienced a strict Muslim upbringing in Indonesia. She was very happy to see him sitting under the palm tree again and found her heart racing as she walked towards him. She told herself not to be so stupid, he wouldn’t even notice her! She walked up the sand towards the line of palm trees and sat as close to the handsome white man as she dared without making him aware.

  Simon watched her as she took a large beach towel from the beach bag that hung from her shoulder and laid it out on the sand in the shade of a leaning palm tree. She wore a gold-coloured bikini, a floppy straw hat and dark glasses today, but even they couldn’t hide the glances that she made towards Simon. She cursed herself; three times she had glanced at him already and he had seen each one. He looked younger this close up and his body wasn’t skinny after all; he had muscles and a ‘six pack’ stomach. She felt herself blush and her heart was fluttering. She hoped that he couldn’t tell. She sipped a little cold water from a bottle and checked that her sarong was tied correctly, in a knot to the left side of her breasts. She sat down on her towel and the sarong gaped open slightly, but a slight pull to one side and she was covered again.

  She glanced at the handsome white man again, and cursed herself all over again as she did. He had seen her look again, but this time he smiled. She had looked away too quickly to smile back. She couldn’t let herself look back again, but decided that if he smiled again next time she looked then she would smile back. She took the novel that she had been struggling to read out of her beach bag
and decided to try a few more pages. She had to make a conscious effort not to look at the handsome white man as she settled into her book.

  Chapter 2

  “Sawaddee khrap.” (Hello.)

  His voice was so close it made her jump. He was standing over her and, because of the glare of the sun behind him, she had to shield her eyes to look up to him. She still couldn’t see his face against the fierce sun, but she smiled anyway.

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you. I don’t speak any more Thai than saying ‘Hello’. I’m sorry about that.”

  “I don’t speak Thai either. I’m Indonesian, from Jakarta.”

  “Oh! I just assumed that you were Thai. I’m sorry. Can I sit and talk to you for a while, or do you want to be left alone? I’m not usually this forward, but I saw you sitting here all alone and …….”

  She smiled, but she didn’t believe him at all. She could tell that this was a man who was confident enough to always be as ‘forward’ as he wanted to be, but he had a charm about him.

  “No, please sit. That would be nice”. She said it before she could think any more about it. She was happy that he had come to talk to her. His forwardness was making her heart pound in her chest.

  “My name is Simon, I’m from England,” he said with a warm smile.

  “Hello Simon, my name’s Wantika.”

  “So you must be a Muslim then, Wantika?”

  She laughed before she answered.

  “Yes I am. How do you know?”

  “Because you are from Indonesia. It’s a Muslim country, right?”

  “Well yes, I guess the majority are, but there are other religions too.

  Christians, Buddhists, Hindu‘s.”

  “I don’t know much about Indonesia, sorry. How come you are alone in Thailand?”

  She was slightly taken aback by his directness. Men in Indonesia didn’t come and talk to women like this, but his smile was easy and very appealing and she couldn’t stop herself smiling back, it was just infectious. His voice sounded educated and quite gentle and sexy.

  “How do you know that I’m alone?” she asked, intrigued at his insight.

  Simon thought that her smile was lovely. It was a slightly shy smile, but demure and very elegant. He felt easy in her company and hoped that she would soon get over her obvious nerves and feel as comfortable as he did.

  “I just know that you are alone, the same as I am. You’re probably running away from something, the same as I am. Probably with a broken heart or a shattered life behind you…………”

  “The same as you?” she interrupted.

  “Yes, the same as me,” laughed Simon.

  They both smiled at each other as they realised some connection.

  “If you want to talk about it we can,” he smiled “but if you just want to talk about the weather, then that’s ok too. I never open up to anyone so I really understand.”

  She didn’t doubt him. He seemed like a really nice man, and how many men are as sensitive as this?

  “You are very young,” she said, changing the subject a little too abruptly.

  Simon laughed.

  “How old do you think I am Wantika?”

  “Please call me Tika; I think you are 28 years old.”

  “I’m 35.”

  “Oh! I am 40 years old.”

  “You are very beautiful.”

  Tika blushed and Simon noticed.

  “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, but you are beautiful, really, and you look so elegant. I can also feel your sadness. It might cheer us both up if we can spend a few hours sitting on the beach chatting to each other and making friends. That’s of course, if you want to?”

  “Yes, I think that would be nice.” Tika smiled a quick nervous smile, but she was happy that he was talking to her.

  Tika looked over to the palm tree where Simon had left his guitar leaning against it.

  “Will you play something for me?” she asked.

  “Yes of course. What would you like?”

  “It’s a song called ‘Hotel California’. It’s my favourite song, but I don’t know who sings it.”

  Simon laughed out loud.

  “Yes I know it. It’s by the Eagles. Ok sure.”

  Tika watched as he fetched his guitar and returned to sit with her. As his fingers picked out the long guitar intro, Tika could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and goose bumps came out on her arms. This beautiful man, with his beautiful body, was playing this wonderful song and sang really well. Really, really well! And he was singing for her. This was the sort of stuff you read about in romantic novels. It didn’t happen in real life, but it was happening to Tika.

  Maybe it was the song, or maybe it was just Simon, but suddenly Tika did feel relaxed and very happy in his company. When he finished she couldn’t stop herself from clapping. Simon smiled and thanked her.

  “You sing for a living?” she asked.

  “No I’m a Doctor. Actually, I was a Doctor. I was struck off two years ago for five years, so I won’t be able to practice again for another three years, and to be honest, I doubt that I will ever practice again.”

  “Oh my goodness! Really, you’re a Doctor?”

  “I was a Doctor.”

  “What happened, can I ask that?”

  “Yes it’s ok. I started drinking a lot more then I should have. I wasn’t an alcoholic, but I was drinking to escape the stress. My marriage started suffering as a result and then everything came crashing down around me when two premature babies died in the operating theatre during emergency Caesareans on the same night. I was in charge and I was found to be drunk at the time.” He paused before continuing

  “You look shocked. It is shocking. As it happens, they would have died anyway, but I have no excuse and I offered no defence at the malpractice hearing. My wife couldn’t take anymore and she divorced me. For the last two years I have worked doing various manual labouring type jobs and then, a few weeks ago, I decided to come and get lost in Thailand.”

  Tika was a bit shocked at the size of this disclosure. Simon was right, she was running away from something and she did have her problems, but nothing like this.

  “That’s so sad, I’m very sorry. I think you have tortured your soul over this. Why did you decide to tell me all this?”

  “Because I think I recognise the same sadness in you that I live with every day. I didn’t cause those deaths, but I wasn’t really in a position to save them. Yes Tika, I have a tortured soul. I don’t usually tell people so much. I don’t even tell them that I’m a Doctor. I just think there is something about you that I feel comfortable with. Or maybe it’s just that we are two lonely strangers on a tropical beach, trying to find some happiness in our broken worlds, I just don’t know!”

  “I feel honoured, and humbled at the same time, that you tell me such things about yourself. You are right about me running away with a broken heart, but my story isn’t the same as yours.”

  “I would still like to hear it, if you want to tell it.”

  Tika told him about her own life. Raised a single child by wealthy parents, she was well educated and groomed to take over the family publishing business. She had turned down a few arranged marriages when she was younger, but her parents were good to her and understood their daughter. At 25 years old she fell in love with her husband and they got married. They tried for many years to have a child, but her husband’s sperm count was too low. She had been a virgin when she got married and has only ever been with one man, her husband. Her father had died a few years ago and her husband had somehow gained control of the family business and was holding the majority share. The only other shareholders were Tika and her mother. Since her father’s death her husband had become a changed man. Gaining pow
er and control over the business had somehow corrupted him and he had become abusive and cruel towards Tika, both verbally and physically, often beating and raping her.

  He had reduced her from a strong, educated woman to a wreck with low self-esteem and self-loathing. He constantly threatened to take her mother’s property and have both of them killed if she showed any resistance.

  She had been isolated from the business, and her husband started taking lovers over two years ago. She suspected that he must have had many lovers before her father died, but now he flaunted them in front of her. On many occasions, he would take them home and take pride in kicking her out of the marital bed and then getting in it himself with the woman he had brought home. At first Tika cried a lot and the emotional pain and suffering was sometimes too much to bear. She had come so close so many times to taking an overdose to end it all. The breaking point for her was only a month ago, after he had kicked her out of bed to take another woman there. She left the room as usual and went to another bedroom. After 20 minutes her husband came and dragged her back into the master bedroom by her hair. He made her strip naked and lick his penis clean. As she tried to resist he beat her until she complied. The drunken prostitute watched her from the marital bed, screaming at the husband to hit her again. She had asked herself how it had come to this and why her husband had turned into such a monster. She decided that she was going to come to Thailand to get away from him and think about her life. After hiding her mother with relatives she had flown out to Thailand just five days ago.

  “Oh my God, that’s shocking!” said Simon. “And he let you leave?”

  “No, he doesn’t know where I am. I have my mobile phone to keep checking that my mother is ok, but the rest of the time I keep it turned off. I have had many missed calls and text messages from him, but I can’t bring myself to read them. I know that they will be threats and I haven’t got the mental strength to cope with them right now.”