It was mid-afternoon when Barton arrived back in the Bangkok Oriental where he found a message waiting for him at the desk. Howard was back. He called his room and they agreed to meet in the squash courts for a game late in the afternoon. It would be a good opportunity to learn something about Cambodia.
As Sophie’s flight was scheduled to arrive late that evening, they had decided to meet for lunch the following day at her hotel, the Royal Orchid Sheraton, just a short distance along the river from the Oriental. Their plans were to visit the Grand Palace and Wat Phra Kaeo.
Barton immediately spotted Howard’s imposing frame in the squash club where he was seated before one of the courts, a cigarette in hand, concentrated on a couple of sporting Thai girls whacking the ball.
‘Looking at the game or the girls?’
Feigning surprise he turned towards Barton and stood up, obviously pleased to see him again.
‘Tom, how are you doing?’ he asked warmly in his soft northern accent. His home was in Southport though he had grown up in Liverpool itself.
‘Great, and you?’
‘Glad to be back in Bangkok. Those who think this place is difficult to do business in should try Cambodia.’
‘How’s that?’
‘The whole bloody place is totally corrupt!’
‘I can imagine it,’ said Barton not over surprised.
‘There’s not much you can do about it, you have to live with it.’
‘What about Angkor is it worth visiting?’ asked Barton anxious to have his new opinion.
‘Absolutely, it’s definitely one of the wonders of the world, that’s why we’re investing in Siem Reap.’
‘Where?’
‘Siem Reap, that’s the name of the town next to Angkor. You should visit it, well worth the trip.’
‘I was thinking about that.’
‘Great.’
‘They’re Brits or Americans?’
‘Who? Oh sorry — no Spanish. A hotel complex.’
‘That’s not surprising, the construction business in Spain is going through a rough spot.’
‘Right, that’s why they’re getting into new markets.’
‘Which company is it, if that’s not indiscreet?’
Howard looked at Barton, weighing him up. ‘Martínez Construcciones,’ he said after a moment.
‘Ah yes, I’ve heard of them, they’re big.’
Barton had been involved in arranging mortgages for buyers at a Martínez development just outside of Marbella where they were promoting a large complex of holiday homes and a golf course.
Howard then informed him there were several flights a day to both the Cambodian capital and Siem Reap, where he could pick up a visa on arrival.
‘What’s the best place to stay?’
‘It depends on how long you’re planning to stay and where, my business is in Phnom Penh and Siem Reap — Angkor. In Phnom Penh I stay in the Raffles Royal, in Siem Reap I avoid the big hotels, too full of tourists, I usually stay at a guesthouse.’
‘A guesthouse?’
‘Well it’s private villa, the company guesthouse — for VIPs,’ Howard said laughing.
‘Ah so it’s not for tourists.’
‘Actually it belongs to the group I’m working with, their directors usually stay there, you know the Spanish Group. I can arrange for you to stay there if you like.’
Howard was not the kind of person to slum it, thought Barton, so why not give it a try.
‘I’m thinking of going in a couple of days, the day after tomorrow, some friends of mine are visiting Angkor, they have their own arrangements.’
‘Good, at the moment I think there’s still one or two people there, the others have just gone back to Madrid. I’ll call the house manager.’
‘I’d like that.’
‘Excellent. What are you doing this evening Tom?’
‘I’ve got nothing special planned.’
‘Why don’t we have dinner together, we can go to the British Club.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
‘There are not only Brits,’ he added perhaps detecting a little uncertainty in Barton’s voice.’
‘No really I’d like that — Brits or no Brits.’
‘Great, let’s meet in the lobby at eight.’
The club was a ten minute taxi ride from the hotel, a palatial looking establishment situated on Suriwongse Road. On the Friday evening menu was a curry buffet, but the first things first, a before diner drink at the Churchill Bar, a cross between an English pub and a club bar, furnished with comfortable armchairs and low tables.
There was a small crowd in the bar and from the smiles and nods to Howard it was obvious he was a regular visitor to the club. At first glance most were Brits, but Barton detected one of two foreign accents.
‘What’ll you have Tom?’ asked Howard as they reached the bar.
Barton looked at the signs, being not much of a drinker he sometimes felt a little out of place in strange pubs and bars.
‘I’m having a Singha,’ said Howard helping him.
‘Me to.’
The barman set two glasses of Singha draught on beer mats before them.
‘Cheers.’
‘Nice place,’ said Barton admiringly. ‘This is where you hang out in the evenings.’
‘From time to time, a little too much expat talk for my liking, you know shop talk and cricket matches. Not really my thing, but there’s not much else to do.’
‘I thought Bangkok was full of night life?’
‘For tourists or short stay visitors, the fun soon wears off.’
‘So what do you do with yourself then?’
‘I’m interested in underwater archaeology.’
‘Treasure?’
‘In a way, but not gold and silver, mostly antique Chinese porcelain.’
‘Do you explore by yourself?’
‘No, here I have friends at the Southeast Asian Ceramics Museum at Bangkok University. They organise exploration expeditions.’
‘Interesting,’ said Barton once again realizing he had lived in a narrow world of mortgage brokering in the City and knew so little about much of the outside world.
‘Yes, theoretically it’s tightly controlled, but unfortunately anything goes. But it’s great, you meet all kinds of people, from palaeontologists to archaeologists.’
Barton had no time to reply a tall well built man appeared. He grasped Howard’s shoulders in a friendly and familiar gesture. ‘How are you Steve, nice to see you,’ he said in an accent that Barton had difficulty in placing.
‘Hi there Sergei. Great, great. Let me introduce you to a friend, Tom Barton, he’s a newcomer to Bangkok.’
‘Sergei Tarasov, nice to meet you Tom,’ he said thrusting out a confident hand.
‘I’m just beginning to find my way around,’ Barton replied as his hand was taken in a firm grip.
‘What are you having?’ said Howard pointing to vaguely to the brightly lit shelves of bottles behind the bar.
‘I’m okay for the moment Steve, I with some of the guys from HSBC,’ he said nodding over his shoulder. ‘I’ll catch you a bit later.’
‘A Russian,’ Howard said in a low voice as Tarasov headed back to his friends. ‘In business in the City, made a lot of money in oil and gas. He’s also in banking. At the moment he’s in and out of Thailand on some deal with Thai Gas. He’s also looking at a couple of property deals.’
‘Interesting,’ Barton replied, not knowing anything about oil or gas. ‘How’s the property market here?’
‘Not great, but it depends on the deal.’
‘What’s his interest then?’
‘Condos, for Russians, they’ve got plenty of money at the moment and Thailand’s not that far for a lot of Russians.’
‘I didn’t realize that.’
‘We’ll have a drink with him after we’ve eaten.’
The diner wasn’t bad, it didn’t resemble the curries Barton had so recently eaten in India, on the other han
d he was enjoying the company of Howard who spoke about Cambodia recounting amusing anecdotes about his negotiations.
‘Isn’t being away from home all the time difficult?’
‘No, I get back quite a bit. I’m single — divorced, no kids — you know too much travelling and all that.’
‘How long do you expect to be staying in the region?’
‘Well we should be signing pretty soon now, I’m just waiting for the confirmation from the Thai investors and the Cambodians. Once that’s tied up then Martínez will be back for the ceremony. It just depends on the financial arrangements between the Thais and Santander, the bank that’s financing the business, you know guarantees and all that.’
‘They’ve been pretty active in the UK.’
‘Martínez?’
‘No, Santander. They bought out Abbey and are about to pick up West Mercian.’
Something on Barton’s face prompted Howard’s curiosity about him.
‘You’ve not mentioned your business Tom? Perhaps it’s confidential,’ he said teasing him a little.
Howard was one of the few Brits Barton had been relatively open to about his own life since he had left London, he seemed dependable, somebody who had no doubt experienced some of the ups and downs in life. Then after the beers and a glass of wine over diner Barton felt encouraged to confide a little more in him.
‘Well I am — was in — property, in the City.’
‘Was?’
‘It’s a long story.’
‘Sorry, I didn’t intend to pry.’
‘No, it’s not a problem. I quit the business — made some money — now I’m wondering what to do next.’
‘I see.’
‘I did a lot of business with West Mercian.’
‘They were unlucky. I met Cameron a few times — then Parkly.’
‘Interesting.’
‘Terrible about what happened to him.’
‘I was there.’
‘Where?’
‘India.’
‘In Kovalam!’
‘Right.’
Barton told him the story of the Cholera epidemic in Kovalam and Parkly’s death.
‘Incredible. So what happened to Emma Parkly?’
‘Back in the UK.’
‘So what are you going to do now?’
Slowly Barton told him his story, how he had quit his brokerage business in the City, leaving for Dubai, then India and now Bangkok.
‘If it’s not a fair question, you don’t have to answer, but you must have made quite a bit to be staying at the Oriental long term.’
‘Yes,’ he replied, leaving no doubt about the fact. ‘Honest by the way, wheeling and dealing if you like, but aboveboard,’ he paused, then added with a smile, ‘at least in my books.’
‘I see what you mean,’ said Howard laughing, relieved that Barton took it that way.
Barton laughed too and felt relieved; better for confiding in Howard, a man like himself. He was the kind of person he trusted, like himself, single, independent. Those who were married often felt the need to let their wives into their business and other secrets opening the way to all kinds of problems.
‘By the way Tom be careful in Bangkok. I don’t want to tell you how to suck eggs, but be watchful about the kind of women you meet in bars, you could wake up in a bath full of ice,’ said Howard seriously.
‘A bath full of ice!’
‘That’s what I said. The last thing you remember is having a strange tasting cocktail and you see a note floating next to the rubber duck saying, “We’ve taken your kidneys. Here’s the number for the hospital. Call it immediately or you will die.”’
‘You’re joking!’
‘I don’t know,’ he laughed loudly, ‘but it’s a story going around.’
‘I’ll make a note to be careful.’
‘Look why don’t you put your visit to Angkor off for a week then you can keep me company on my next trip to Phnom Penh.’
‘That’s a good idea, but I have to be there sooner.’
‘Sooner?’ said Howard raising his eyebrows in surprise.
‘Well, you see I met this girl in Phuket, a French girl, she’s going there on Friday and I was thinking of joining her, she’ll be there for three or four days.’
‘Ah, a French girl, I see. From the frying pan into the fire.’ He paused a moment then said, ‘Look use the guesthouse, then I’ll join you after your friend has gone. A few more days away wouldn’t do any harm especially with the problems here,’ he added alluding to the political demonstrations that were beginning to heat up in the streets of the city.
‘Sure,’ said Barton unaware of the growing political crisis in Bangkok.
‘We should be getting over to the lounge, Sergei will be looking for us.’
‘Maybe you have something private you want to talk to him about.’
‘No problem.’
The lounge was like an old fashioned club room, sedate and comfortable, with discreet waiters who at a nod would be at hand to take orders for drinks. They found an empty corner and were settling down into the plush armchairs when Howard spotted his Russian friend at the door and waved to him.
‘Over here Sergei.’
‘So Steve what’s new,’ said Tarasov seating himself next to them and waving to a waiter.
‘Got back from Phnom Penh yesterday, it’s looking good. They’ll probably sign next week. What about you?’
‘Excellent, with the price of oil going up Russia is doing fine and people are spending. It’s a good moment for your average nouveau riche Russian manager to buy a second home,’ he replied with a cynical smile.
‘Do you think the price of oil will go higher?’
‘The price of oil is not important, what is important is to make a profit from it while it lasts, covering yourself for a quick retreat if things go wrong, as they often do.’
As a Russian Sergei knew his country’s history and how quickly things could change for the worse.
‘What are your plans Steve?’
‘Well once the business in Cambodia is completed I suppose I’ll be back in London.’
‘Good I have some business you can help me with. If we could have lunch tomorrow I’ll fill you in.’
‘Suits me.’
‘And Tom, what’s your business.’
‘Property and finance,’ replied Barton becoming used to the question.
‘Ah, interesting.’
‘By the way Steve, I’m planning a little get together on my boat soon, I’d like it if you were there.’
With that Tarasov stood up.
‘So tomorrow, lunch — at my place.’
‘Count on me.’
‘Nice meeting you Tom.’
Miami