Free Happy Endings by Jon Rance Page A

the floor. I looked down at the hard uneven boards, scattered with dust, bugs and the occasional stray nail. Ten days on that floor and his back would be ruined for life. Not to mention the possibilities of spiders and mosquitos.
    ‘No funny business,’ I said with a stern face.
    Jez smiled and threw his backpack on the bed next to mine; a strange prequel to our actual bodies lying there that night.
    Despite the bed situation, life on Koh Phangan quickly fell into an easy routine. We’d get up around nine or ten, usually a bit hung-over, and have breakfast at the hostel. Most days it was just fruit and cereal, a cup of coffee and toast. Then we’d go to the beach and read our books, swim in the crystal-clear water, snorkel, go kayaking or take a walk through the rainforest. On the first morning we were still quite tired from the journey and so after breakfast we camped out on the gorgeous beach. Jez had brought along his guitar, and I was leafing aimlessly through my Lonely Planet travel guide. Jez was strumming along and started singing the first few lines of a song. I didn’t recognise it and so assumed it must have been one of his.
    ‘I like it.’
    ‘It’s just something I’m working on.’
    ‘Play me the rest.’
    ‘It isn’t ready,’ said Jez, looking at me coyly from under the brim of his straw hat.
    ‘Oh go on. For me. Please,’ I said, giving him the face that always worked on Ed.
    ‘Fine, just for you,’ said Jez. ‘It doesn’t have a title yet and I still have work to do on the chorus, but here goes.’
    Jez launched into his song and it was incredible. He had a really amazing voice, a bit raspy, but soulful and full of passion. It was the first time I’d heard him sing one of his own songs all the way through and it blew me away. I sat there in awe until eventually he finished.
    ‘Fucking hell, Jez.’
    ‘Terrible?’
    ‘No, it was amazing. You’re really good.’
    ‘Thanks,’ said Jez and even with the heat of the day, I could see his face go red and I felt myself fall slightly more in like with him than I already was. The memories of sitting next to my dad when I was very small, listening to him play the guitar and sing me songs popped into my head, but I managed to squash them quickly. I was trying to keep any thoughts of my father as far away as possible.
    ‘What do your parents think about Jez the musician?’
    ‘As opposed to Jez the doctor?’
    ‘Yeah.’
    ‘Dad would like me to go into medicine like him. Mum thinks I’m wasting my time. “You’re too clever to throw it all away on a silly pipe dream, Jeremy,” she says every time I see her. I don’t expect them to understand me in the same way I don’t understand them. And it’s worse since . . .’ he said, and then stopped.
    ‘What?’
    ‘Nothing. Fancy a drink? I’m gasping.’
    ‘Sure,’ I said and we headed to the hostel pool bar, but I was left wondering what it was he didn’t tell me. Trying to imagine what small piece of his jigsaw he wasn’t prepared to give away just yet.
    We hired scooters on the fifth day and drove up to a bar Jez knew called Amsterdam. Riding the scooter was quite an experience. The little Thai man who rented it asked me if I’d done it before and, of course, I nodded confidently and said yes, sure, no problem. This was apparently the only comfort he needed to make sure I would return in one piece.
    It was incredibly exciting as we rode around the island on our little scooters, albeit almost crashing a few times. Bar Amsterdam was at the top of a huge hill and from there you could see over the rainforest to the ocean. It was an incredible place for a drink. It wasn’t too busy when we got there so we settled in and had a few beers. It gradually filled up as the afternoon wore on, but it gave me the chance to ask Jez something that had been on my mind since we’d met in Bangkok.
    ‘So, Jez, is there anyone waiting for you back home?’
    Somehow, and despite spending the last few