Page 56 of The Pearl Sister
‘He didn’t tell you?’
‘Of course he didn’t! Otherwise I wouldn’t be calling you to find out, would I? And what do you mean, he “broke” a bank?’
‘I don’t know the details, but it’s to do with illegal trading. Anyway, by the time his fraud was discovered, he’d already left the UK. From what I read inThe Timesyesterday, intelligence services all over the world have been looking for him.’
‘Jesus Christ, Sia! He never said a word.’
‘How on earth did you meet him?’
‘He was just some guy on Phra Nang Beach – you remember, the really -’ I stopped myself from saying ‘ace’ – ‘beautiful one with the limestone pillars.’
‘Of course I remember.’
I thought I heard a slight catch in her voice as she said this.
‘But how come everyone in the world seems to know thatIknew him?’ I continued.
‘Because there’s a photograph of the two of you on a beach with your arms around each other on the front of every single newspaper in England. I saw it this morning at the newsagent’s next to the bookshop. You’re famous, Cee.’
I paused to think, and an entire stream of memories downloaded in my brain: Ace’s refusal to come out in public by day, his insistence that I never tell anyone where I was living . . . and, most of all, Po, the security guard who’d taken the photograph . . .
‘Cee? Are you still there?’
‘Yeah,’ I said eventually, as I thought how Po had been keen to take photos of me and Ace together. By handing him my camera on our last night, I’d also handed him the perfect opportunity. No wonder he’d been so eager to take my roll of film to his ‘cousin’ in Krabi town . . . He’d obviously made copies too, which would explain the extra photograph wallets I’d seen in his rucksack. Then I remembered Jay, the exjournalist, and wondered if the two of them had been in cahoots.
‘Are you okay?’ Star asked me.
‘Not really, no. It was all a mistake,’ I added limply as I also remembered the envelope of photos I’d left for Ace on the table. If there was ever an act that had come from the best part of my soul that could be interpreted as having come from the worst, that was it.
‘Cee, tell me where you are. Seriously, I can get on a plane tonight and be there for you by tomorrow. Or at least the day after.’
‘No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You okay?’ I managed.
‘Yes, apart from the fact that I miss you. Really, anything I can do to help, just tell me.’
‘Thanks. Gotta go now,’ I said before I broke down completely. ‘Bye, Sia.’
I pressed the button to end the call then switched off my mobile. I lay down flat on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. I couldn’t even cry – I was way past tears. Once again, it looked like I’d managed to mess up a beautiful friendship.
12
I woke up the next day feeling a bit like I had the morning after I’d heard the news about Pa Salt’s death. The first few seconds of consciousness were okay, before the deluge of reality poured down on my head. I rolled over and buried my face in the cheap foam pillow. I didn’t want to be awake, didn’t want to face the truth. It was almost – but not quite – funny, because even if Ihadknown Ace was a wanted criminal, I was far too much of a dunce to have made something out of it. Others had been clever enough to do it, though, and I’d got the blame.
Ace must hate me. And he had every right to.
Just imagining what he must be thinking of me right now was enough to turn my stomach. For real, I realised as I dashed to the toilet and retched. Standing up, I washed my mouth out and drank some water, deciding that all I could do was to go and confront the evidence. ‘Face your fears,’ I told myself as I dressed and went downstairs to reception.
‘Is there an internet café around here?’ I asked the woman behind the desk.
‘Yeah, sure. Turn right and walk about two hundred metres. There’s an alleyway, and you’ll see it there.’
‘Thanks.’
I stepped outside into massive paprika-coloured puddles that pooled on the uneven pavements and realised it must have poured down last night. As I walked, I felt floaty, like I was drunk, which was probably caused by a lethal cocktail of misery and fear at what the computer screen might show me.
Once I’d paid my few dollars to the woman at the front of the café, she indicated a booth and I went into it and sat down, feeling sick again. I logged on with the code she’d given me, then stared at the web browser wondering what I should tap in. Star had told me Ace’s real name, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what it was. And even if I could, I wouldn’t have been able to spell it.
‘Bank crash.’
