Free Stealing Asia by David Clarkson

since
before the full moon party and I was starving. When in Malaysia, I had often
struggled at mealtimes, but Thai food was one of my favourites.
    We got to the restaurant to find that the tables had been set up directly
on the beach and lit only by candlelight, creating a genuinely romantic
ambience. I was hoping that it would be just the two of us. Unfortunately for
me, Barrett and Clay were already there with their respective partners and they
called us over to join them.
    I had yet to make up my mind about the Americans, as I could think of
little that we would have in common. Barrett and Clay sounded more like a law
firm than the names of people I could ever imagine calling friends. At least I
shared some common ground with their English girlfriends. If I had my way, we
would have ignored the offer, but Asia, I suppose, was duty bound to accept.
    Their company was tolerable, but I could not help but feel excluded for
much of the evening. The American pair dominated the conversation and spent
much of the night talking each other up. I was later unable to recall a single
achievement or shred of evidence offered by either of them to give any credence
to their outlandish claims. At least the three girls seemed suitably impressed.
In Asia’s case, I sensed it was more down to home sickness than a genuine
fondness for the pair. I suspected that she had only made friends with them to
avoid being on her own had I failed to show up.
    Following the meal, Clay tried to persuade us to stay for a nightcap, but
I managed to talk Asia out of it. I think that the other girls were relieved by
this too as they could not have been comfortable with their men giving so much
attention to another girl instead of them.
    We bid them all goodnight before walking back to our cabin. Rather than
go straight inside, we sat on the sand and watched the stars drift by as the
ocean lapped at our feet. Paradise was everything I had imagined it would be.
     
    ***
     
    I was alone in the
bed when I woke up the following morning. After throwing on a pair of
board-shorts, I stepped out onto the beach. It was a warm, clear morning and
for the first time I was able to see how the bay looked in daylight. It was a
classic crescent shape and opened onto a seemingly endless vista of an almost
glass like ocean. There were no waves; not even a ripple to bring the postcard
perfect view to life. Rocks bordered each corner of the crescent and behind me
was nothing but lush forest. If it was not for the dozen or so wooden cabins
and the reception block planted firmly in the centre of the beach, this really
would be the embodiment of tropical perfection.
    The tide had
swept the sand clean during the night and as such there was only one set of
footprints leading down from our cabin. They were from bare, size five feet and
terminated at the water’s edge. I spotted her about twenty metres from the
shore to the right of some rocks. Rather than swim out to meet her, I decided
to take a stroll along the beach. Along the way I bumped into the two English
girls and was relieved that their partners were not with them.
    ‘Good morning,’
I said. ‘I thought you two would be with your hunky American boyfriends.’
    Whilst I could
have used much a more apt adjective to describe the guys in question than
“hunky”, I saw no reason not to be polite to the girls as they both seemed
pleasant enough.
    ‘We could say
the same,’ replied Izzie.
    ‘That’s right,’
added Dee. ‘Asia is incredible. Where did you meet a girl like that?’
    I told them the
story about the foiled mugging in Georgetown and the ordeal that I went through
to meet up with Asia in Thailand. As was becoming a habit, I left out the mystery
driver who was the one who had actually stopped the mugger. They both seemed
impressed that I would go to such lengths to be with her and they agreed that
it seemed suspicious that the scammer’s had targeted me in Hat Yai. Neither had
any theory for why that might