Back to First Page

"It looks like you take it through yourself," Smith said quietly.

Her breathing turned into a series of gasps. She covered her eyes with her two hands. Smith was pretty sure she was about to burst into tears. He put his hand on her shoulder. "Look, sweetheart, if they see you like this they're going to tear your luggage apart."

"I can't help it. I'm scared. It's not just me. It's my whole family. I can't let them down. I wish I could just die...."

"No! Don't say that! Don't ever say that." Without realizing he was doing it, Smith pulled her shoulders towards him until he was holding her in a gentle embrace, with her head on his shoulder. He could feel her body shuddering and the faint wetness of her tears on his cheek.

"Tell you what," he whispered into her ear, "let's compromise. Let's take it through together. As if we were travelling together. What do you say?"

She looked up at him, almost smiled, and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. "Thank you," she whispered, "you are a good man."

A good man? A damn fool, more like, he thought to himself as he helped her to her feet. Still, it hadn't been an entirely unpleasant afternoon.

O

Their combined luggage amounted to four small items. As they walked towards the Customs area they pushed it ahead of them on a trolley and held hands like a couple of young newly-weds. Instinctively, Smith began to push the little device towards the red channel.

"Are you crazy?" Suavarose hissed at him.

"Nobody with something to hide is going to go through the red channel, right? So that's where we're going."

As they walked Suavarose began dragging his hand slightly, pulling him to the left where the green gate beckoned. "Trust me," he whispered, tightening his grip and refusing to deviate from his chosen course, "and for Christ's sake try to relax."

Rose did the best she could. As they walked up to the desk she even attempted a smile.

Smith took his black hold-all from the top of the pile on the trolley and placed it neatly on the counter. The young uniformed officer came over to meet him.

"Good evening," Smith began cheerfully.

"Good day, Sir," said the young Asian in perfect English. "Do you have something to declare?"

Smith casually unzipped the hold-all and started to take things out, beginning with the Chinese sweet-box. "Well, yes," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I thought I should talk to you because I bought this cam-corder in Hong Kong, and I'll be taking it back to England when I leave. I have the purchase receipt..." He fished around in his breast pocket, "Ah yes. Here we are!" He handed the document to the young official. "I thought it was better to let you see it than to take it through the green channel," he added.

The man took the receipt and looked at it. "Yes, Mr. ....Smith. You are very conscientious. This is what we call a temporary import. There is no problem whatever. I shall give you a note of authorization..." he started to fill-out a small docket, "May I see your passport, please?"

Smith hunted for it in his jacket pocket and handed it over. The officer looked at it closely and then at Smith's face. "Thank you, Sir. And the young lady's?"

Suavarose looked suddenly flustered. She couldn't remember where she had put it. "Just a moment," she fluffed, pulling one of her bags off the trolley on to the floor, "I know it's here somewhere.."

"Are you travelling together?" the officer asked in a tone that suggested he was simply making conversation while Suavarose looked for her passport. It was a slightly unfortunate question. The two of them answered together, but Smith said "Yes" and Suavarose said "No". As she stood up, now holding her passport, there was an embarrassed silence. "Well," said Smith, "to be honest we met on the plane. But we've got to know each other quite well."

"So I see," said the officer, and this time his tone implied that he had picked-up something not quite right. Obviously he had seen them hold hands as they approached the counter. Smith understood what was going through his mind but Suavarose was in reality too terrified by the whole situation to take very much in. Young Asian girls did not pick-up new men friends on 'planes and walk up to the Customs Desk holding hands with them. His plan to make them inconspicuous had produced exactly the opposite effect. He thought quickly.

With a beckoning gesture Smith drew himself very close to the customs man. "Look, it's a bit delicate, old boy," he said very quietly, "if you look at the lady's passport you'll see who she is. She can't travel completely unaccompanied. My job is to look after her when she's travelling from one country to another. We pretend that the relationship is... different... so as not to attract attention. You understand, don't you?""

Intrigue appealed to the customs man just as Smith thought it would. "Of course!" His whole demeanor changed. Smith drew a mental sigh of relief.

"You must show this to the customs officer as you leave the country, Sir, together with your Certificate of Purchase. There will be no problem whatever." He smiled and handed the docket to Smith. Then he started re-packing the hold-all, beginning with the cam-corder, then the sweet-box. "You know," he said in a confidential tone, "you could probably have bought that for even less here."

"Really? Well thanks for telling me. I'll remember that the next time."

Smith pointedly took Suavarose's hand again as they walked calmly through the channel and out into the main concourse. He felt as though he were dragging her along. The poor girl was quite close to fainting.

Smith was careful to look back discreetly at the customs officer to see what he was doing, and, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the young man go to a telephone and pick it up. Instinctively he knew that the man was checking-up on their story. He tried to put himself in the customs officer's shoes. What would he have done in that situation? Phoned the girl's father? No, that would be a bit discourteous. You can't phone a prominent man and say "Your daughter has just told me such-and-such and I want to know if it's true." No, what he would do would be to check with the airline. See if they really were travelling together. See if they had joined the flight at the same place.

"Soavarose," he asked quietly, "did you board that flight at Hong Kong or somewhere else?"

"Hong Kong. The same as you."

"Thank heavens for that."

Her walking pace seemed to slow down even more as they crossed the floor of the huge building towards the doors that led to the outside world. "Please," she said in a voice that had begun to tremble slightly again, "let me sit down and unwind for a minute. I was so frightened in there. I was sure we would be caught. Sure of it."

Smith could see what she had in mind. There was a small snack-bar, little more than a booth, but it had tables to sit at, and no doubt could supply a strong coffee if required. "Look, sweetheart," he said with a tenderness that surprised himself, "I don't want to worry you but that customs man is on the phone right now making some kind of inquiry. I would feel more comfortable if we could put a bit of distance between ourselves and this airport as quickly as possible."

It was as though Smith had put his foot on some kind of psychological gas-pedal. Suavarose's pace accelerated and the two of them were outside the door almost before he knew it. Away from the air-conditioning, the heat of the tropical air filled Smith's lungs for the first time that day and made him gasp. They were on a broad service road that separated the terminal building from a coach-park, and beyond that a large multi-storey car-park. The road was crowded with people and luggage-trolleys, coaches and taxis, as well as a number of the little three-wheeled motor rickshaws that were greatly favored by the local people. He could smell street-food being barbecued on little barrows and stalls, and all around him street hawkers were announcing their wares: "You want taxi, Sir?" "You want chicken-wing on a stick, Sir?" "You want genuine Rolex watch, Sir?" "You want Coca-Cola with ice, Sir?". He knew that if Suavarose had not been with him, a girl for the night would have been another of the commodities on offer. It all seemed exotic and unreal. He felt that special thrill of being somewhere new, of having an unknown foreign land laid out before him to explore. For a moment it drove the more urgent problems out of his thoughts.

In the space of about one second, Suavarose had flagged-down a large black Mercedes taxi. The driver jumped out and started loading their luggage enthusiastically into the trunk. Smith correctly guessed that his excitement sprung from the fact that they had made no attempt to bargain with him with regard to the fare.

"You want go to city? Go to hotel?" he inquired eagerly as they climbed in to the back. Smith then realized that he had no real idea of where he was going. "Yes, just drive towards the city," he said vaguely, "we need to decide where we're going."

Smith looked at his watch. It was four-thirty in the afternoon. They had seven and a half hours before midnight.

"Maybe we should check-in to a hotel somewhere first," he suggested. "We could leave our bags, and it would give us time to think. What do you say?"

As soon as he had said it he realized that it sounded a bit presumtuous, as though he were making a lewd suggestion to the girl. But it was too late to rephrase it.

"Yes," she said without hesitation, "I know a nice one. Driver, could you take us to the Lana Condo, please."

She leaned over towards him in the seat and he put his arm confidently around her shoulder. From the way that she cuddled-up to him he could see that she had no objections. "Thank you, Leonard," she whispered. "Thank you for helping me."

"Hey! Nobody calls me Leonard," he joked, "but you can."

O

Now that they were alone in a hotel bedroom, sitting casually alongside one another on the bed, Smith suddenly felt very ill-at-ease. He didn't want to spoil the relationship that was obviously developing between them by being clumsy, or by putting her under too much pressure. He wanted desperately to take her in his arms and kiss her, but he was almost certain it would be the wrong thing to do. He had to avoid her eyes, tried not look at her at all, so that he would be able to control the urge. But in matters of this kind, Suavarose was a lot less timid than he had imagined. No sooner had they put their bags on the floor and taken a deep breath than she had her arms around his neck and was giving him a lingering kiss on the lips, pulling him down with her as she relaxed back on to the bed.

An urgent little voice inside Smith's head tried to interrupt the proceedings, told him that he had less than seven hours left before midnight, but he didn't want to listen. His body ached for her, and now it was obvious that she felt the same. Would it really make any difference if they spent one or two of those precious seven hours submerged in the most basic and wonderful of all human pleasures?

He bade the little voice in his head be still, and gently rolled her on to her side so that he would not hurt her with his body-weigh. Caressing her back and allowing his hand to hitch-up her top and wander freely over her bare flesh, he responded eagerly to her hungry kiss.

As gently as he possibly could, he separated his lips from hers. "Sweetheart," he whispered, caressing her back tenderly as he spoke, "I want to make love to you more than anything else in the world, but we can't do it right now. We just don't have the time. We have to think about Miller, and about your sister."

Top of Page

Back to First Page