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Forgiving


MrX

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>> This piece is way out in the order of the whole IP tale. Its chronologically correct place would be immediately before the episode ?Meeting James?<<

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Whether I had buffeted her before, the VIP carpet of her pardon already tiring wet on a rainy sidewalk, I cannot say, but for me it started in April 2004

 

 

 

 

That evening, having arranged to accompany Moon to the Wat at Hua Lampong when she finished work, I dropped in to the Bar about 8. IP was there, curling like smoke around the poles until I caught her eye and she graciously came down among us.

 

 

 

 

Though we had not yet evolved a restrictive protocol for unscheduled visits I explained my arrival half-apologetically, nevertheless. Yes, I would only stay a couple of hours. No, I would not bar fine her. Yes, if a regular customer showed she should go with him. No, I would not mind.

 

 

2 uneventfully happy hours passed. At 10, creeping outside to telephone Moon and confirm our visit to the Wat she hushed back ?I working?.cannot go? before the line went dead.

 

 

 

I returned energetically to claim the bonus evening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now bar-fined we walked out to Ambassador square to eat rice, ?al fresco? off the yellow tables. And after, even if there was a dangerous crackle of life in the night air, we returned to the bar carelessly.

 

 

 

 

There, well after eleven, things were rocking with barely a seat free round the stage and so I was perched and crowded, at the end far from the action. She never liked the ?end game? of the standard BG evening. ?Boring.? She always said; just killing time, little more to be gained from the bar-fine; conversation rendered nearly impossible because of the music?s volume, still early to go home less she meet the neighbors and they inquire too much about her nocturnal life.

 

 

 

 

Yet at one moment I felt her attention waver particularly. She was evidently taking in at man seated at the other side of the stage. I assessed him too; at ease, florid, almost handsome and on the cusp of middle age. IP said, ?I go say hello OK?? and she was gone before I could even nod. I vainly fought the impulse to watch, wondering wistfully whether she had ever been so deferential to me?so silkily available. I was almost sure not, a thought I sometimes allow to fuel the conceit of love. It was fascinating though to see her in action.

 

 

She came back soon enough but settled behind me as I half read the spatials of betrayal.

 

 

 

?I want you go home? emptying the ampule deftly into my ear.

 

 

 

 

?You phut chin or phut len?? I parried ineffectively, broken glass already crunching underfoot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I moved away too quickly, she dancing around us like a flickering flame

Halting at the curtained door she said; ?See you tomorrow,? her face pressed distortingly close. Then I was gone, lurching sickenly down the street, now in a fazed topography, short of breath, battling infernal creatures.

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