Thai Shorts Page 7

  “You really think I smart Papa?”

  “I think you are the smartest, but there is something that smart people who go to school really need.”

  “What they need?”

  “They need a computer or game console or something really smart like that!”

  “I not have like this.”

  “Okay, I’ll make you a deal. If you go to school every day from now on, then at the end of the month we’ll go out and buy one for you, as long as you promise to keep going to school. I think you will like school if you give it a chance and you will make many friends with people of your own age.”

  Som started crying again, but this time they were tears of happiness. She threw her arms around my neck and kissed me and hugged me like she was never going to let go.

  “I love you Papa.”

  “I love you too,” I said, and I really meant it.

  After that Som didn’t look back. She did really well at school and I was very proud of her. She made a lot of friends and she was their equal. Not just some street kid! Every Sunday afternoon she would go out and meet up with a group of them, walk around Central Plaza, have coffee or go and see a movie. She was growing up!

  Som had been living with me for nearly two years. Besides the changes that I had made, she had made some too. She had told me that she didn’t like me taking ‘lady from bar’ back to the apartment and I understood her feelings so I stopped taking them home. She also didn’t like me smoking and drinking so much. I cut down to less than half the amount and I didn’t smoke or drink at all when I was at home. Som started working in Khun Gung’s shop on a Saturday and I also gave her pocket money. So, although I would still buy her anything that she needed, she took a great pride in earning and saving her own money to buy something special for herself. That made me feel very proud of her too.

  It was around this time when one morning four policemen turned up at the apartment and arrested me, but I had no idea what for. They also took Som away in another car. Gung saw the police taking us away and closed her shop and jumped into the police car with Som. I was held in a cell in Bang Lamung Police station for four hours, still not knowing what I had done wrong. I was even more worried about Som. I was certain that she would never do anything wrong and I was pretty sure that it must be a case of some misidentification. I think they had just swooped on the wrong address. I never was interviewed! Nearly five hours later they just let me go and Som and Khun Gung were waiting outside for me. It was Gung who told me that somebody in the apartment block had reported me to the police and said that I must be having sex with Som. Gung and Som had been spoken to and the police accepted that it was a malicious complaint. I was devastated. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I was shocked and I was sad, but more than anything I was angry. Nobody would tell them who had actually made the complaint. I felt sort of vulnerable and I went to see a solicitor. I was hoping that maybe I would be able to officially adopt Som, but I was told there was no way that I could. Nobody knew who she really was and I was a single old farang. As soon as I was told I felt stupid that I had even enquired. Of course nobody was going to let a single old farang adopt a Thai child. I don’t know what I was thinking. I think I was just caught up in the emotion of it all. The solicitor told me that I should just carry on as we were. I couldn’t do anything else, so that is what we did. We just carried on as we were.

  We didn’t have any more problems after that and we lived happily together. We had our ups and downs, because basically I was a single parent and Som was a teenage girl and growing up fast. She had stayed on for further education and studied fashion and design at college. She now had a part time job in one of the fashion shops in Central Plaza. She worked hard and, of course, she wanted to go out more and stay out later, but she was still only 17 years old and maybe I was too over protective. I shouldn’t have been because Som was street wise. One night she was going out and reluctant to tell me where she was going and wouldn’t commit herself to a time when she would be back home. I demanded to know and threatened to refuse to let her go. It was stupid.

  “You cannot stop me. You are not my Papa.”

  Her words stopped me in my tracks. They cut right through me. I knew she was right of course. I wasn’t her dad and I couldn’t stop her. I only wanted to make sure that she would be safe. I didn’t know what to say. She looked into my eyes and I think she could see how much she had just hurt me. She burst into tears and hugged me.

  “Oh Papa. I’m so sorry. I never say like this again. Please forgive me Papa.”

  “There is nothing to forgive. You are right. I’m sorry too. I’ll never ask you again where you are going. I’m sorry Som.”

  “Papa I like you ask. I know you love me and care too much. I never speak bad to you again.”

  Som stayed in that night and grounded herself for a whole week. She didn’t have to, but she just did. I knew that she felt bad about our argument, but she really didn’t have to. That was the last time we ever had cross words. She was a good girl, a beautiful girl and a lovely daughter. I was very proud of my Som.

  When Som obtained her qualifications in fashion and design she started working full time in the shopping mall and, after a few more years, they made her manager of the shop. She was a good business woman and a good boss. All her staff could go to her for help or advice and, if they needed time off for something important, then Som would usually allow them if she could, and they worked all the harder for her in return.

  A couple of years ago Som met a Swedish man called Bjorg. He is a teacher in Thailand. They started dating and fell in love. He had asked her to move in with him, but she said no. She wanted to stay with her Papa until they got married. Their relationship grew and they got engaged. I liked Bjorg. He’s a good man and I know that he loves my daughter. After nearly two years together they set a wedding date. Six months ago, which was exactly six months before the wedding I was diagnosed with cancer. I think that I had had it for a while. I was always tired and I had a lot of back pain, but the pain was high up on my back not at the base. Anyway, when I did go and see the doctor, they did some tests and confirmed that I had it and it was terminal. The doctor told me that I probably had six months left.

  I didn’t want to tell Som because I didn’t want her to worry and I didn’t want to put a dampener on her excitement for her wedding. I didn’t tell her for weeks, but I wanted to. I thought that if I couldn’t tell Som then who could I tell. I had nobody else in the whole world. One night after we had eaten I told her.

  “Som I have something to tell you!”

  “What is it Papa?”

  “It’s not good news and I don’t want you to be sad, but I have to tell you.”

  I could see the tears welling up in her eyes - maybe she had guessed already. She held my hand and kissed me on the cheek. I had tears running down my cheeks. It took me a few moments to speak. I was swallowing hard and trying not to cry, but the emotion was sort of choking me.

  “I have cancer Som. The doctor said that I am going to die and I’ve only got about six months left, now maybe a bit less. But I’m going to try to make it to your wedding before I die, if I can. I love you Som.”

  Som cried and held onto me and I held onto her and we didn’t say anything for a while. It was the saddest day of my life, telling Som and making her cry so much.

  “Are you afraid Papa?” she asked eventually, through her tears.

  “No. Not anymore. I’m sad that I’m going to die before I achieved anything in my life, but I guess that most people don’t achieve much before they die.”

  “What do you mean Papa?”

  “I mean that I never got around to changing the world the way I dreamed that I could when I was a kid. “ I tried to force a laugh. “I never got to make a difference to the world!”

  “Yes Papa. You do. You make a differ
ence to me. You change my world. I owe you my life. Without you I die a long time ago, sure!”

  Maybe Som was right. Her words made me feel better anyway. I had achieved something. I had become a dad and I had raised a beautiful, intelligent and kind daughter. I suddenly felt very proud of myself for the first time in my life.

  My daughter got married today and it was a lovely day. I like her husband, he’s a good man. Tonight they are flying to Europe for their honeymoon. I’m feeling very tired now, it’s been a long day, but a happy day. I’m going to sleep now, maybe I’ll write some more tomorrow…..

  4. Dear Diary

  The story taken from a boy’s diary of 1953

  This Diary is the property of Ernest William Thompson and was written in the Year of our Lord nineteen hundred and fifty three.

  1st January;

  Dear Diary, It’s the first day of a brand new year. It’s a Thursday and it is also my birthday. I am seventeen years old. This year promises to be an excellent year for my family and we all have a lot to be excited about. Father is awaiting delivery of his new car. It is a Wolseley 4/44 in a light blue colour. It has cream coloured leather seats and a teak dashboard. It most certainly is a beautiful automobile. Mother is excited because she is to attend the fashion shows in London, Paris and Milan this year. I am excited because I am going to stay with Uncle Ernest in Siam from June until September, before I start at my new school, Eton. The weather outside does not reflect the excitement in my heart. It is cold and dark and raining. It is as if God is angry with Surrey for some reason and has decided to punish us all by depriving us of any natural light. Tomorrow we are having a television set delivered and installed. In conclusion I would say that 1953 does indeed promise to be an excellent year!

  2nd January

  Dear Diary, The new television set arrived as expected today and, after a few hours and several attempts at re-positioning the aerial by the fellows who came to install it, we had picture and sound. It was as if the people inside the television were actually in the room with us. Of course we will continue to listen to the radio, because it has a better selection of shows and broadcasts all day long and we like listening to great singers like Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra and Perry Como. But the television is a remarkable invention. The Times newspaper reports that 25% of the population now has a television and I predict that even more people will invest in a television in the future. Mother polished the television cabinet and placed a vase of flowers and a photograph of grandmamma on it. It is a lovely addition to the sitting room.

  17th January

  Dear Diary, I’m sorry that I haven’t written for a few days but there hasn’t been much to tell you. Father has spoken on the telephone to Uncle Ernest and my visit to Siam has been confirmed. I fly out from Heathrow on 1st June with B.O.A.C. Uncle Ernest isn’t really an uncle at all, but he is a cousin of my father. I was named after him. He is an American, but he has lived in Siam since the end of WWII and he is married to a lady from Siam. Father thinks that a trip to south-east Asia will be good for my education. Siam isn’t really called Siam anymore, they changed the name to Thailand four years ago, but I have never heard anyone call it that. So I won’t be obliged to either. Father says that discipline, tradition, education and religion are the things that make us who we are. So I will stick with tradition and Siam will remain as Siam. Somehow it sounds so much more exotic then the modern name for the country. Uncle Ernest has promised to send some photographs of his house in Bangkok.

  28th January

  Dear Diary, Derek Bentley was executed at Wandsworth Prison in London today for his part in the murder of PC Sidney Miles. Some say that his mind wasn’t 100%, but killing a policeman is a terrible thing to do. My thoughts are with the family of PC Miles, but I can’t stop thinking about the family of Derek Bentley. It must be a frightful business to have a member of your family executed for a murder and the whole world knows about it! The miserable weather is continuing and looks set to continue for some time to come.

  31st January

  Dear Diary, The car ferry MV Princess Victoria, sailing from Stranraer, Scotland to Larne in Northern Ireland sank today in the Irish Sea killing 133 people on board. Among the dead are Northern Ireland Finance Minister and Deputy Prime Minister Major Maynard Sinclair and Sir Walter Smiles the Ulster Unionist MP for North Down. The terrible storms have also caused the North Sea to flood and hundreds of people are being reported killed on the east coast of Britain. It seems like a very sad way to end the month and I feel guilty for my own excitement for the good things that are surely going to happen to me this year. In my prayers tonight I prayed for the lost souls from today and prayed that their own dreams for the future may somehow stay with them, if that is at all possible.

  5th February

  Dear Diary, The rationing of sweets introduced during World War II, ended today, but I don’t think that I will start eating them. I have had my entire life without sweets and my teeth are in jolly good condition because of that, although I am getting some frightful spots appearing on my face and neck. I fear it is the start of acne and I can only hope that it clears up before my trip to Siam. Mother says that I have to eat more fruit and vegetables, so I have written out a daily menu for each meal and given it to Mrs. Ambrose, our cook.

  9th February

  Dear Diary, The Fraserburgh lifeboat, John and Charles Kennedy capsized on service and six crewmembers were killed. The Times didn’t give it much column space in their report, but I have been thinking of these poor brave men who lost their lives. I think that there has been too much death so far this year and I can only pray that it will stop when the better weather arrives!

  1stMarch

  Dear Diary, Tommy Taylor is a 21-year-old centre forward and he has just become Britain’s most expensive footballer in a £29,999 transfer from Barnsley to Manchester United. Father says that it is an obscene amount of money and that no man in sport is worth that amount. It is going to ruin the game of football and that is why my father is a rugby man. I quite like football and every Saturday afternoon I listen to the football results in my bedroom. I think I agree that £29,999 is too much to pay for a footballer and I doubt that this amount of money will ever be paid again. Football clubs just couldn’t afford it, as the men who go to football matches are working class and they may resent that amount of money being paid.

  Joseph Stalin suffered from a stroke after an all-night dinner with Georgi Malenkov, Nikolai Bulganin and Nikita Khrushchev. The stroke has paralysed the right side of his body and he is in a coma.

  5th March

  Dear Diary, Joseph Stalin died today and Melenkov has become the leader of the Soviet Union. I can’t help wondering what did he eat in that all-night dinner and did he know that he was eating it?

  16th March

  Dear Diary, Josip Tito, the Communist leader of Yugoslavia visited the United Kingdom today. He is the first Communist leader to ever visit our shores. Father is outraged and he has been ranting most of the day. Father says that it is the thin end of the wedge and he didn’t fight in the war to defeat the Nazis just to allow the Communists to just walk into our country, invited by our own government. I have never heard father say anything negative about Winston Churchill before, but today he had much to criticise the prime minister for.

  24th March

  Dear Diary, I have some very sad news today. Queen Mary, consort of the late King George V died in her sleep at Marlborough House. She was part of history and a living link to the past of Great Britain. Father and mother and myself all prayed for her today.

  On a more exciting note the police have found some bodies at 10 Rillington Place in London. It is quite clear they have been murdered by a real life serial killer and the police want to talk to the suspect John Christie, but he is missing.

  The photographs from Uncle Ernest arrived today. Bangkok
looks like a very exciting city and his house is beautiful. He sent a photograph of his wife. Her name is Rose and I can’t stop looking at the picture. I do believe that she is the most beautiful woman who I have ever seen. She looks like an oriental princess. She has dark eyes and long black hair and the most demure smile. In the photograph she is wearing a long traditional Siamese dress made from silks. She is holding her hands together in front of her chest as if in prayer. She truly is beautiful. I would never be so bold as to guess a ladies age, but she is certainly younger than Uncle Ernest. I can’t help wondering how did he find such a beautiful woman and, when he did, how did he manage to win her heart?

  31st March

  Dear Diary, The funeral of Queen Mary took place at St. Georges Chapel in Windsor Castle today. It is another grey day. I have managed to extract the photograph of Madam Rose from the others that Uncle Ernest sent and I keep it safely hidden in my bedroom. I look at it many times and I know the photograph intimately now. I can see her leg because the dress has a split up to her thigh. It is a very shapely leg and I find myself looking at her leg rather a lot! Madam Rose is looking straight at the camera and it rather gives the impression that she is looking at me. I find myself smiling back at her. In just over eight weeks I will be meeting her in real life and the thought of that makes my heart beat at an unnatural rate.