No Worries

By Colin Devonshire

Living or visiting Thailand should be a dream come true. Right? Book number one - Not Far Enough From Worries. A drug lord fathers his lesbian niece’s child, but not in the usual way! Set in Thailand late 1980s. Action, fun, romance, and tears. Breathtaking violence and tender moments add to a fast-paced read. Two young and gullible Englishmen move to Hua Hin to start a new life in the tropical heat. Along the way, they meet a dodgy Dutch ship's engineer, two lovely French girls who are more interested in dogs than romance. A tall Welsh man with a chequered history of drug abuse, but a unique skill of mixing things to make other things. This talent gets the attention of seriously evil people. A lesbian newspaper reporter who rides a powerful motorbike has an important family secret. The whole story unfolds in an action-packed finale. Book 2 - Worry No MoreA sequel to "Not Far Enough From Worries". Set in Hua Hin and Bangkok, Thailand. Horror with suspense and a touch of humour.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Colin Devonshire
• Release date: Feb 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005666620

Colin Devonshire

Loved playing sports, football, cricket and golf. A stroke changed all that, now I write novels. Dark humour for adults and mysteries for children.I have lived in Thailand for more than 30 years.

Book preview

Not Far

Enough

From

Worries

Copyright Colin Devonshire 2018

All rights reserved, no part of this publication, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

Designed by Dark-Novels

No character in this book is a real person. Any similarity is purely coincidental.  

ISBN 9781973528586



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This book is for Boom, my guardian, my nurse, my best friend and more. 

For my children, who have had to put up with a bad-tempered Dad for some months. Thank you.

Thanks go to my sister Linda Hughes for the original cover design. 

To Tim Mellish, you were my first proofreader.

To Mark Stephens, your advice was not always acted upon!

To Thanasak 'Tom' Karnasuta, huge thanks, you know what for!

And James O'Brien for that extra bit of encouragement when I needed it!

If you enjoy this book you may also like

‘Worry No More’

and

‘Children With No Worries’

and - coming soon

‘We Have More Worries’

In the ‘No Worries’ series, all set in Thailand.

It would help me if you were good enough to post a review on Goodread

Goodness is something 

that makes us serene

and content; 

it is magnificent. 

Those who are not good

are evil!



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Contents

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Prologue

Chapter 1 Don Mueang Airport 

Chapter 2 Nightlife in the Big City

Chapter 3 Hua Hin and a New Home

Chapter 4 New Business

Chapter 5 Homes for Rent

Chapter 6 Business meets Death

Chapter 7 Problems Ahead

Chapter 8 Time Off

Chapter 9 Romance is in the Air

Chapter 10 In The Ring

Chapter 11 The Truth

Chapter 12 Go Go, Stop Stop

Chapter 13 Lucky Escape for Nick

Chapter 14 No Sign

Chapter 15 Sombat needs action

Chapter 16 How mad is Mad Mike?

Chapter 17 Embassy Visit

Chapter 18 Back to the Jungle

Chapter 19 London Calling

Chapter 20 Nick has Women Trouble

Chapter 21 When it Rains it Pours

Chapter 22 Embassy to Embassy

Chapter 23 Mike Gains

Chapter 24 Nick’s News

Chapter 25 Jungle Again

Chapter 26 Turtle Curry Man Arrives

Chapter 27 Party for Nick and Myrtle

Chapter 28 Away Day

Chapter 29 Goodbye Nick 

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Chapter 30 Pu Yai

Chapter 31 Funeral

Chapter 32 Unpopular in Leather

PART TWO

Chapter 33 Mad Mike Gets a Visit

Chapter 34 Cockney Returns

Chapter 35 Camilla on her way

Chapter 36 Away Together

Chapter 37 From Tourist to Worker

Chapter 38 Chiang Saen

Chapter 39 Police in Private

Chapter 40 Kompot Koknar

Chapter 41 Meeting with Joe

Chapter 42 Just the Messenger Boy

Chapter 43 Wiang Hiran

Chapter 44 New Boss

Epilogue

Prologue 

THAILAND INDEPENDENCE MOVEMENT 

In the early 1950s and through the 1960s, they invited groups of Thai communists to Beijing for training in ideology and propaganda. Some of those attending the training camps went further than just learning how to get their point across by talking or writing. 

Groups of Pathet Lao insurgents infiltrated north Thailand, and local communist party cells were organised and sent to Laos and North Vietnam to learn terror tactics and armed struggle.

Some Chiang Rai Thailand Independence Movement (TIM) members crossed the border into Burma. They then moved south, back into Thailand to Prachuabkhirikhan, the provincial capital of Hua Hin, to keep their banned party from failing by making one last stand. 

One of their leaders, Pu Yai, was busy creating mayhem, anyway or anywhere he could destabilise the government of Thailand. 

Who was behind the anti-government stand, and why? Where, or more to the point, who did the money come from?

For several years they suspected that the instigator was possibly a non-Thai, and likely to be British.

Chapter 1

Don Mueang Airport, Bangkok 

IT IS NOW TWENTY past two in the afternoon! Where is my mate? The plane landed two hours ago. What have you done with him? Is he drunk? Have they have arrested him? Or maybe he has been kidnapped? Where the hell is he? Everyone else has retrieved their bags and gone. 

Kev was talking to himself, he did that when stressed.

An exhausted and frustrated young Englishman scratched his head and wished someone, anyone, would answer his questions. 

He would also like to stop muttering to himself. No one else was listening to his questions, anyway. 

Kev decided he needed to walk around and cool his rising frustration. He called for a cup of coffee; particularly when he saw the look of amusement on the face of the latest man he had confronted. 

I am sorry, sir, I cannot tell you anything, stated an airport security officer. Whether he knew nothing about the flight or was just clueless about most things? Whatever, he was smirking, standing idly in his over-ironed shirt which had turned the cheap material shiny brown, leaving it to the imagination or a plausible guess how the seams of his shirt remained attached. 

 The airport emptying; the hubbub was quieting. Still no Nick.

 Kev was not happy. Normally he is a very reasonable individual, he was not normally prone to talking to himself, today he was on the verge of becoming volcanic, not only that, he had answered himself. Kev had read in 'Lonely Planet' that here in Thailand you should not show your feelings and any sign of temper is frowned on, Kev was still wearing his L plates. 

He felt an overpowering need to moan and whine; he tracked down an information kiosk.

Before arriving at the airport I had just spent four and a half hours on a bus with a broken air conditioner. So, can you please help me?

The look on Kev’s face had the information lady signalling urgently to the nearby security man, who came over and stood next to Kev. He carried on with his rant to the lady, and himself. 

You know it was cool enough when I boarded in the early morning, but the mercury steadily rose as the miles passed. So did my temper.

 Kev’s frustration was clear for all to see. The security guard had placed his right hand on his pistol, an over-reaction, but Kev was making everyone nervous.

Kev carried on with his complaint.

By the time we reached the outskirts of the city, not only was it hot enough to make the devil jealous, there was not a whiff of a breeze.

He remembered all too clearly the perspiring Westerners or ‘falangs’ as Thais know them, were leaning across his upper body to remove their bags from the overhead storage. Overloud Thais, front and rear, left and right, all jabbering, possibly relating something so earth-shattering like the next-door neighbour’s dog peeing on the washing, or maybe telling their life history to fellow travellers they had just met in true Thai style. Thai people love a good yarn. Whatever they were saying, Kev did not understand. 

 Christ, the Westerners stink to make it all worse. 

 The security man had released his grip on the pistol. The lady seemed more relaxed. 

 He knew all too well that the surrounding foreigners were sadly in need of some scented soap and water. They were all grateful they could disembark and sample another of the country’s many delights, be it edible, visual or beddable. 

 Whatever, get away from me! 

That thought crashed around inside his head. Left unspoken, he wandered on, leaving the two at the desk looking at each other wondering if all ‘falangs‘ were like that.

 Kev had travelled to the airport from Hua Hin, the sleepy seaside town which was now Kevʼs, and soon to be Nickʼs new home. Kev was happy soon to be seeing his oldest mate but worried that Nick would not fit in, in more ways than one. Nick would not be comfortable in the flight’s ‘economy’ section for a start. Twelve hours squeezed into a seat built for a person half of Nick’s size. Would he cope with the heat? Could he keep his temper in check? 

 Earlier that day Kev had travelled by bus, aiming north, to the country of Thailand’s capital city, Bangkok, the City of Angels. Now after a lengthy wait at Don Mueang Airport’s arrivals area he still had not seen Nick, let alone an Angel. The arrivals sign had promised the plane had arrived and on time.

 Thailand’s population was slightly under that of Britain, just over fifty-million people. Both countries are proud to boast a working democracy. In Thailand, nearly all the people loved and adored their King. Thailand’s King is treated by most of his people as a demigod. In every country some people would change their system of government, Thailand is no different. It does not take many firebrands to cause a country serious problems. 

 What could have happened to Nick? The man was not built to enjoy thirty degrees Celsius. They do not build household weighing machines for people of his girth. One leg on the equipment and the little arrow already nudged twenty stone. Nick was a lad who enjoyed his food, usually not the healthy choice, although he would take it if there was nothing else. Chips and pies, Chinese or an Indian with crisps and a large slice of sweet cake to follow would be his pick. All of that to accompany a few pints of lager. Unlike Nick, Kev could go for hours without sustenance. 

 Small jerky movements of his neck, eager eyes flicking left and right. Panic was welling up, churning inside, battering his empty stomach. 

 How long since I last ate? Come on Kev, get a grip, he said, almost kicking himself. 

 What would you do if you had lost something or somebody at Heathrow? 

 So he went in search of a policeman. There were men in uniform everywhere. He chose the alert looking one, busy chewing gum. 

 Oh, a big man, yes? He answered in schoolboy English.

Another officer with an overworked uniform had no information. What do they feed these guys? In a country full of slim people, why do all the overweight people have jobs with a uniform? 

 Kev found a sensible-looking woman in a uniform that fitted well. She smiled at him, asked if he was looking for a big guy. 

 Yes! came Kev’s eager reply. But still no useful facts concerning Nick’s whereabouts. 

 Yes, you are correct, that’s the person! Where is he? Kev pressed her further.

 He was getting so desperate he was running to the next person in uniform, anyone in uniform. He quizzed an airport cleaner who he mistook for a flight Captain. Nice uniform for a cleaner. Kev had read in a guidebook that in Thailand you should always smile. Even in tricky situations, this tested that theory. One last try–a man with a clipboard. 

 A big smile spread across the man’s chubby chops. Kev did not like him, or what he was about to hear. Which turned out to be nothing helpful.

 Well? I am waiting. 

 Kev’s forced smile was slipping. 

 Ooh, a big man, said the uniform.

 Kev’s smile slipped further. 

 This would be a long and frustrating wait. Another hour passed. He then failed in his latest inquiry, trying to discover if Nick had been on the plane. 

 I cannot tell you security rules. 

 The airport emptied further, there were few people left in sight, still no Nick. 

 Then laughter boomed all around, echoing from the glass and concrete walls. Airport staff appeared from each doorway, all sneaking a glimpse at Kev, and they were all smiling. Thais, unlike Kev, found fun in every situation. They are great at grinning. 

 Don Mueang airport had opened in 1914 as the Royal Thai Air Force base, and in 1924 it took commercial flights making it one of the world’s oldest airports. None of that information made Kevʼs wait any easier. 

 The grand entrance of Nick followed the spontaneous outburst of clapping and cheering. It was as if he had just finished conducting an opera. Bowing his head combined with his newfound skill of performing the wai. Placing your hands together in the Thai gesture as if in prayer, the wai can mean hello, goodbye, and thank you amongst other things. Someone in uniform must have passed on the art to Nick. He had been enjoying himself. Kev was thinking of a new use for the wai.

 Nick had made friends with the immigration police, the airport security, even the well-dressed cleaners. They must have offered him food, they had. Not any food. He sampled som tam, a Thai favourite, a very spicy salad featuring fermented fish which could turn the strongest stomach and assault the unwary nostril.

 A rumpled Kev could not hold back his moan.

  I have been here for hours, what the hell happened to you?

 First, they looked me up and down, they then enjoyed touching my beard. Do Thai men have beards? It was as if they had never seen one before. 

 Nick was warming to his first time in Asia, having enjoyed this new experience. 

 Then my size impressed them. Are there no large people here? They wanted to know how much I weighed, I do not know, as you remember I break normal bathroom scales, so they got me on the airport weighing machine! That was interesting. Someone summoned airport staff and quite a crowd gathered. They all enjoyed that, particularly when a man ran a book on the announced weight! 

 Nick was wobbling with mirth. Kev was not.

 Then, they wanted to know what was in my bags, nothing illegal but, when the Marmite jar was pulled out, well, they could not believe someone would eat it, they all wanted a taste. Which I happily offered. They had shared some of their food with me. They were laughing so much that the entire department joined us and even more people appeared from somewhere. Then I had to prove I could eat and enjoy it. Sorry mate, I know it was for you, and you’ve been missing your favourite breakfast spread, but I ate the whole jar. Again, money changed hands. A female cleaner seemed very pleased with both results. 

 Nick stopped wobbling. He looked at his mate. 

 Anything the matter? You don’t look happy. 

 The airport staff looked like they had enjoyed their shift, cheery waves all round as they left for home. 

 At that, Nick hitched his waistband, untucked the part of his shirt that was not already untucked. 

 What’s next!

He was almost skipping along the terminal corridor. A thought crossed Kev’s mind. 

So who is it that would not fit in? 

 There was the sound of clicking and speeding heels behind them. People usually rushed towards departure gates, not the arrival gates. A tourist hurried past, pulling his suitcase along the floor. A father was pushing his children ahead of him. Peering backwards as he shoved his youngest forward.

Kev took no notice of the fear in the eyes of new arrivals. He was busy admiring a beautiful air hostess adjusting a tight jacket and skirt. The reason for the rearrangement of her clothing soon became clear. She started sprinting, a feat difficult to accomplish in a pencil skirt.

Kev had turned to say something to his friend about lovely legs when he spotted the unusual flight path of a plane in the window behind them. 

Christ, look out, shouted Kev.

The sounds of terror grew. People could see that the craft was coming directly at the terminal building. Shrieks and screams were growing in volume as people turned to see a cargo plane’s wings dipping one then the other as it hurtled toward the unprotected building. The pretty hostess hitched her tight skirt even higher and ran faster. 

The white propeller powered plane filled the windows, it appeared to be coming straight through. Thankfully, it fell short of the building as it suddenly dipped and crashed into a fuel tanker parked outside. Some empty cars parked alongside the building were thrown into the air as the explosion shattered glass for a hundred yards all around. 

A fireball suddenly burst from the destroyed fuel vehicle, black acrid smoke choked the life from any birds unfortunate enough to be flying past. People in the airport were running as fast as the slippery floor would allow. They could hear glass crashing to the floor as the shattered panes came loose from their frames. 

 Welcome to Bangkok!

Chapter 2 

Nightlife In The Big City

A LOCAL TV CREW excited for the latest update, spotted Nick and tried to interview him. Not a chance. The big man nipped behind a group of Arabs, whose flowing robes distracted the reporter. The newsman looked left and right, mentally picking his next victim to quiz on camera. The reporter being in two minds gave Nick the chance to escape. Instead, the news team nabbed an American serviceman, a much easier and doubtless a more talkative target. 

 After recovering their composure outside the airport terminal, they, like the rest of the travellers, got into buses or taxis to escape the throngs of police, military and newspaper reporters all going towards the action.

An accident, it could have happened anywhere. 

That was Nick’s educated comment as sweat ran down his face. 

After more than an hour stuck in the traffic, jammed going to or away from the smoke. They checked into the Miami Hotel. Cracked tiles and in need of a splash of paint. This was not the best, or anywhere near the premium accommodation Bangkok offered, but it was comfortably affordable. There are plenty of high-class hotels in Bangkok there are far better hotels here, far swisher than Kev and Nick had ever stayed in, anywhere. The Miami was the place where you don’t worry about what to wear for cocktails. Positioned just off the Sukhumvit Road, a busy area of the city for business and also for tourism. But not a great place to be stuck in a car, and not a place built for walking around. The choice was slim, Kev recommended they stay put until the taxi pulled right up to the hotel’s doors. Outside and away from the car’s air-con it is sweaty hot, and the pavements, often broken or uneven, cluttered in the afternoons with stalls selling fake designer clothing and the latest rip off cassette tapes are not built for strolling.

 For quick trips around town, a motorbike taxi is usually the best choice if you are not worried about safety. 

Eventually, after dumping their bags and taking overdue showers, they headed for a very welcome drink. Perching themselves on the worn material of the bar stools, the first cold beer was gulped and drained in seconds, it was pointed out by the very relaxed barman you could bring in girls or boys or whatever you fancied to be your guest. Nick scratched his beard.

What does he mean? 

Kev knew, he’d lived in the Kingdom for a whole month already, he knew the score. Nick would soon learn. 

Before long it became clear even to Nick. You did not need to bring nighttime companions in here, available girls were already waiting for your signal to join them.

 Two young ladies, not that young, in fact, they were older than the hotel. Joining them at the bar, and touching the boy’s thighs as they ordered a soft drink each, they added the cost to Nick’s bill. 

I think she meant to touch me? 

Kev raised his eyebrows and gave his friend a quick nod. 

As the Singhas, Thailand’s most popular beer for the boys, and Pepsis for the girls went down steadily, the drama at the airport was, if not forgotten, it was lodged in the brain’s filing system for later.

The lads, urged by their new friends, decided that they should explore the city more. They jumped into a Tuk Tuk, a three-wheeled taxi named after the sound they make. Not the safest mode of transport, but fun, that’s what they were looking for. They enjoyed the frenetic dazzling neons, people with somewhere or nowhere to go or maybe appearing as if they might have something important to do. The ride felt fast, lively, bumpy and fun, even if they were crammed into a jerky, weaving open-sided box on three unstable wheels. 

The girls and Kev got out, leaving Nick to squeeze himself free and pay the fare. They went to the girl’s usual place of work, the Grace Hotel’s Coffee Shop. 

It was loud, four jukeboxes all playing different hit songs, one from each corner. Around sixty girls, all sitting demurely at tables waiting and hoping to be noticed. With only about twenty drinkers scattered amongst the hopeful hostesses making it look like another lonely night for most of them. 

Nick had had little luck with the fairer sex, so it staggered him that his companion was so interested in him. Every girl in the place seemed interested in him. Kev was feeling the effects of the alcohol in the strong Thai beer. Naturally he said it was not the beer, he was just tired after a long day. 

 They moved on, to see if they could discover a quieter place. After visiting a few more bars, which were pretty much all the same.

Hello, handsome man, said a mini-skirted girl.

 Come inside, please, she shouted at any male walking past.

After a few more freezing Singhas they wandered into a ‘sing a songʼ bar, hidden in a small Soi, now this was a different style drinking place. A big slap on Nick’s belly signalled yes.

This is the place for us! as Kev led them in. 

Yeah, looks like we’ll enjoy ourselves in here. 

It catered for Thais mainly, the occasional ex-pat, but usually not tourists. They had centred a low stage in a garden area with tables positioned around the dance floor. Casually dressed waitresses served customers at their tables. You hire a garland of flowers from one of the staff who walked amongst the drinkers, you then place the flowers over the head and around the neck of the girl of your choice, then you dance with her. They lined the girls up hoping to be picked by a customer, often a regular Thai punter who had escaped his wife for the evening chose his girl for a few hours pleasure. Because foreigners rarely ventured far away from the falang bars. This establishment had been popular in the Far East for hundreds of years, but very new to both Kev and Nick. 

It seemed simple, but Kev and Nick had partners with them already. No way a Thai man would dream of taking his wife or girlfriend into a place like this. It was not the done thing to dance with someone else when you already have a companion, but not having seen a ‘sing a songʼ establishment before not knowing the ‘rules’, they were easily led. 

Kev, that girl fancies me. Look, she is smiling at me. Just look at her, she is beautiful, panted Nick. 

The dancing girls were winking at them! The hotel ladies went to the ‘ladies’. The boys went to attempt the ‘ram wongʼ, a Thai classical dance. No touching your partner, and performed properly it was a graceful dance, their attempt was far from graceful. Kev did well to stay on his feet after a serious wobble, while Nick was not built for grace. 

As the dance ended, Kev was just about finished, and Nick was struggling from his flight plus all the excitement. The magic ‘girl magnetʼ power of the flowers, which they felt they possessed just a few minutes before, had deserted them. Not only had the dancing girls deserted them, but the girls from the hotel had not returned from the toilet. 

Judging that the only answer was to have one last beer before bed, they discovered their wallets had gone too!

A none too polite inquiry to the tough-looking guy at the bar led to being gently but firmly bounced onto the road. Nick was not about to take this laying down, but his legs failed him, Kev was already fast asleep curled up next to the waste bins. 

Sometime later, as the first dawn light disturbed their less than beautifying sleep, the pair realised that they did not know where they were; they didn’t have enough money for transport, and their mouths tasted like the contents of the bins they slept next to. 

What is that stuck to my back.

 I don’t know, but I’m not touching it. 

Last night’s entertainment centre, which seemed so welcoming and lively, now appeared drab and tacky. Also, it was locked up, and there was nobody about. The ‘fragrant’ pair decided the only thing to do was walk. But where? The old saying: ‘Follow your nose’ came to mind.

Sweat, Nick’s pet hate, showed itself, first damping his armpits, then appearing as droplets on his forehead. When rivulets of sweat rolled down his spine into the crack of his rear end, he was very unhappy. 

It is only 6.30 am, how could it be so humid? 

This my friend is Thailand, was Kevʼs jocular reply.

They, by more luck than judgement, found their way to what looked like the main road. The pavement which was crammed last night was now deserted except for street cleaners and a few people sleeping in shop doorways. Dogs were fighting over scraps of food discarded hours before. Kev and Nick skirted the hungry scabby creatures. The four-legged ones, not the ones asleep in doorways.

Eventually, they came across a lady who was opening her newspaper kiosk. She could only muster a few words of English, but she had a well-used map of the city. She cheerfully pointed out where they stood, and where the British Embassy was situated. It seemed it was well within walking distance. 

Kev bought a Bangkok Post, by far the most popular English language newspaper in Thailand, from the helpful kiosk owner, as a ‘thank you’ for showing them where to go. He had just spent the last coins in his pocket. It was only when they looked at the paper’s front page that yesterday’s events cleared the Singha fog. Pictures of the damage at the airport showing how close they came to being incinerated, but there was little in the way of information in the report. 

Police Captain Wattana said it was an unfortunate accident, luckily and incredibly it injured no one. Damage to buildings and vehicles was huge. Reports of sightings of a parachutist leaving the plane were unfounded as nobody had come forward. 

It was only later in the day that Kev wondered, why was there no mention of a pilot? Surely the report would tell you if he was dead or alive?

After trying out their ‘wais’ once more, they set off more in hope than the expectation of finding a helpful soul at the Embassy so early in the day.

 It was far too early for anyone to be working, but it was not too early for rain. It was the beginning of the monsoon season, and when it rains in Thailand, you will not be playing any cricket that day! The rain was a pain to Kev, but to Nick, it was like all his happiest memories appearing at once. The rain cleaned him of dust, and it cooled him.

 There was no shelter outside the Embassy, so they got wet, soaked. Eventually, they were shown into the beautiful grounds by a Gurkha guarding the place, alas not into one of the buildings, but the meeting with an official at the Embassy was undercover out in the fresh air, as they were drenched and they smelled far too badly to be allowed to go inside the grand interior. 

After reading and signing some papers, someone presented them with five crisp 100 Baht notes. Nick explained that at the hotel he had traveller’s cheques.

They told him, That’s fine, he could either pay back the Embassy himself or the Embassy would claim the money back from his parents in England. 

Either way, they could afford transport to The Miami, and a very welcome breakfast.

Chapter 3

Hua Hin And A New Home

AFTER A QUICK DETOUR to the Embassy to settle their debt, they made their way to the bus station. The ‘Blue Bus Stationʼ why they called it that? Not because you left feeling low. It was something to do with blue-coloured buses. They spray some of their bodywork with undercoat, in readiness for a tidy up. When finished, if ever, they are blue with a broad white stripe running along its midsection. There is, however, a choice of bus colours, it could have been the ‘Orange Bus Stationʼ, which is orange with often even more undercoat, these buses are cheaper but had no air-con, refreshed only by some city fresh air, which enters through open windows. They take longer to reach their destination because of their stop/start policy of picking up travellers en route. While the ‘Blue onesʼ offered a more direct trip, a more comfortable seat, and air-conditioning, except for the bus which Kev travelled on the day before.

"Air, kaput," the bilingual driver explained.

All the way to Hua Hin they talked about what they would do in their new home. Nick thought Kev had already set something up, well, that was what Kev led Nick to believe.

There is so much going on in Hua Hin, I need you to get a feel for the place before we make any firm decisions.

Kev had spent his time laying on the beautiful beach and thinking about what type of business they may try. Not quite the same thing, but it was so easy to allow time to float by. He had made a few friends, which could eventually be useful, depending on what kind of business they decided upon.

As luck would have it, Kev had been told about one opportunity, but as he was busy, (on the beach), and had not had the chance to check it out. That was not what he told Nick.

Brilliant, there are loads of things for us to do to earn a decent living then?

As soon as you are up to it, we can check out the places I have looked at, I have narrowed things down to the best few opportunities.

Kev had his fingers firmly crossed behind his back.

How about tomorrow? asked Nick.

Hua Hin is not a big town, it was steadily growing. Gradually more and more tourists were picking the quieter atmosphere and cleaner beaches here than Pattaya across the bay.

Nobody knew how many inhabitants there were. The town boasted a wide main road running through the centre, north towards Bangkok, and south towards the Provincial Capital of Prachuabkhirikhan, with several crossroads from the hills in the West to the beach in the East.

At the main crossroads, there was a large square filled with shanty buildings, the inhabitants opened small shops all selling souvenirs made of shells. The elderly owner of the land allowed people to live there for free or very low rent. At the edge of the plot is the only non-shell business, a friendly bar/restaurant with live music played nightly. This busy square summed up the feeling of the town.

Most of the traffic using the Phetchkasem Road were three-wheeled pedalled taxis, called samlors, which means ‘three-wheeled’.

There were frequent orange and blue buses motoring through the town centre, both chucking out noxious black fumes. Pickup trucks were the popular choice for traders, owners of farms and building firms. Rarer still were family saloons.

Look Kev, they’ve got a movie theatre, do they show Western pictures?

No mate, the cinema only shows Thai movies or badly dubbed American pictures.

Kev hadn’t chanced a visit because you risked the unhappy sensation of cockroaches running over your feet. However, a fan of films could enjoy outdoor viewing in the temple grounds, a large screen was placed at the front of a dusty open area, people, old and young would sit on the ground, it is free to enter, great fun especially when the projector overheats to loud cheers.

Hua Hin is a fishing town, the scores of boats are owner operated family businesses. The fishermen live near to their craft in wooden homes along the seafront. International standard four and five-star hotels had not yet been built, but someone had submitted the plans.

What is that place, with guards on the gates? asked Nick.

That is The King’s palace, he comes here often, it’s lovely, you can see it better from the beach, we can walk along the sand one day.

Kev and Nick were staying on one crossroad, in an old wooden guest house. It cost 40 Baht per night, so cheap enough, and run by a friendly family. The guest house boasted forty bedrooms on two floors, an unkempt garden, with a sizeable room which could be a dining room or a place for a quiet drink, plus a reception area with a private office.

I feel at home already, said a weary Nick who was keen to try out his bed.

Kev had booked rooms in a guest house. They had double rooms next to each other on the second floor, provided was a small wardrobe, a vanity table with a chair and a double bed. The bathroom had running water, not hot, but warmish. Great value and five minutes walk from the beach.

On his first night, Kev had a scare, he had just showered in the tepid water. Standing in his room, naked, he felt a gentle thump on his back. For a moment he panicked. The immediate thought was to jump and dance about. If there was some deadly creature attached to his upper body, was it not better to keep still and hope the beast went away by itself?

If ever there is a time to talk to yourself, that was it.

Oh hell, what is it, does it bite or sting? Shall I kill it? Will it kill me? Is it okay to scream in Thailand?

He had a great idea as he slid gently over to the vanity table where he would sneak a look at the mirror. His heart was thumping, at least that meant he was still alive! He slowly and gradually turned from the waist, terrified of what evil beast he might see. Eyes wide, he did not want to look. He dared a glance.

It was a giant locust. Kev breathed again. Mind you, locusts have nasty sharp bits on their legs! He has told no one about his scare.

The guest house owner loved the English, especially ex-army guys. The British forces were his heroes. He tells all his guests they once broke his leg playing football up in Burma during the Second World War. And because of this, he had the utmost respect for Brits.

Khun Daa, a dapper and sprightly man, much older than he looked. He did not know his real age, being born when people rarely registered the birth of their children. He could not do enough to help anyone. Now Nick and Kev were to enjoy his local knowledge and experience. He even pointed Kev toward a two-floored building, which was directly opposite the guesthouse. It was available to rent and could be used in a variety of ways. Divided into units would give the chance to let out small areas, as shops or bars. They could use part or all of the area themselves. Time for some serious thought.

Nick’s first thought was to run a bar. Kev was going for a much less time consuming, and healthier occupation, rentals. Now Kevʼs loosely formed idea was taking shape.

His preferred idea was to offer various services, such as estate agency, something he would handle and building repairs or alterations. That would keep Nick busy. Using his own sales skills and Nick’s building abilities and hard graft, they would be on a winner. Sure enough, next day Kev, Nick and the guest house owner crossed the road to view the vacant building. It had one main room, airy and spacious, with a pair of toilets and an old-fashioned kitchen which opened out to a small backyard, nothing but dried mud and weeds. Although dusty and in need of some repairs the place seemed perfect for what Kev had in mind. Now, Nick was a handy guy, being used to working on building sites in and around London, he could soon get the place humming. Kev, well, he talked a good game. They shook hands, and they had a deal, Kev, Nick and Khun Daa all very pleased with the morning’s work.

They planned a small celebration dinner to launch the new business at the guest house with all the owner’s family.

They offered a selection of dishes, sliced meats hot and spicy, curries hot and spicy, salads cold and spicy. Nick loved it all, the hotter the better. He surprised his hosts with his ability to stomach the hot chillies spicy enough to peel back varnish. Kev thought he had swallowed a nuclear warhead, no, it was as Australian commentator Clive James would say: ‘Thai food was as though the sun was going down in your throat!’ Kev was gulping bottle after bottle of beer, and it was showing, particularly when he missed sitting on his chair by a foot and ended up hitting the floor.

They aided him to his feet and offered the next dish with the promise.

This one is not spicy.

It looked and smelled wonderfully different, although nervous he immediately took a large spoonful, the first taste was garlic, then the flavour of chicken, 'not bad at all' thought Kev. At last, something he could eat. That was until he noticed the little hands on his plate.

What is this? stammered Kev.

They told him it was a special dish.

A whole frog!

Expensive and not common, a luxury dish. Kev’s stammering became croaking. That was the last anyone saw Kev that evening.

Chapter 4 

New Business 

THEY COLLECTED THE KEYS and worked. At least Nick did. Before long Kev had to nip out, he needed to meet a man interested in spending money, possibly in their direction. Someone who he’d heard wanted a shop front. They had told Kev that the Dutchman was looking to start a new venture; he needed space for a wholesale food and beverage project. He was planning to not only sell cheese but also go up against the huge Thai brewery, Boon Rawd, who produce Singha beer amongst other things, and he was aiming to sell an imported beer. Well, you had to hope. Thais do not eat cheese, and they prefer Mae Kong whisky to beer, next to whisky would come local beer. Now as well as Singha, there was a newcomer, Kloster, slightly upmarket from Singha, so you could forget a falang brew, which would come a long way down the list of alcoholic drinks. The chances of success looked slim. That did not worry Kev, maybe he should have been concerned. 

Anyway, Mr Jan was confident he was on to a winner.

Soon, there will be hundreds of thousands of tourists flocking to Hua Hin, he said. 

The Dutchman may not have the perfect business plan, but he was not the only person to think Hua Hin would soon become a tourist Mecca. 

Jan was a stout man, not like his beer. His beer and some of his cheese were mild, he was far from mild. He was moody and aggressive; he had that way about him that said he was the only person you should listen to as he was always correct! 

Regarding the building, he liked the position. In that he was, as always, correct. It was a perfect spot for what he was planning. He liked the space, and the monthly rent was affordable, so he handed over a month’s rent as a deposit and a month’s rent in advance. They gave him a moving in date, which would put some pressure on Nick to get the renovations finished on time. 

Kev spent his lunch break at the beach before telling Nick the news of the deal. Kevʼs favourite restaurant was in front of the Railway Hotel. The actual railway was strangely quite a way from the hotel. They thought it better for a hotel to be close to the sea rather than being near the clattering of the tracks, so they positioned the railway hotel at the beach. The railway station was about half a mile away, towards the hills, and placed right next to the country’s first golf course. A Scotsman who had been employed by the state railway, designed and built the course. Pleasurable work if you can get it. Kev had fancied himself as a golfer but had yet braved the scorn of the caddies. The caddies were often better golfers than their ‘boss’, who had paid for the round. 

Kevʼs choice of beach restaurant was busy. It was one of the 20 restaurants spaced along the seafront; the restaurants are not part of the hotel, and it surprised that they could operate on a prime site between the hotel garden and the sea. Not being a weekend, there were few Thai customers, but westerners, or ‘falangs’ as they knew the tourists, had taken all the best seats. There was a table, two deck chairs and an umbrella nearer to the sea. So they served a fresh lemonade, and a fried egg sandwich at the seafront as a well-deserved lunch.

When the tide was out, it revealed several large rocks, with accompanying pools and resident crabs. Further south along the beach was a headland which boasted a monkey clad hill with an attractive temple nestled at the summit. Palm trees swayed in unison behind the restaurants. All adding up to Kev’s feel-good mood. 

Two German regulars, one grossly fat and one so skinny you could post him, were getting stuck into cold beers. Another German with an ill-fitting wig sat with his Thai girlfriend, both with a beer in hand. They too had their regular spot. More interesting to Kev were the two unbelievably beautiful French girls. The feel-good factor just moved up a notch. They chose the healthy option of coconuts and chicken salad. Also, they were wearing skimpy and very fashionable swimwear. Usually, Thais are uncomfortable when confronted with a lot of bare flesh, but in these girls’ case, they could make an exception. Someone sat them in front of the bewigged German.

Life was wonderful, thought Kev. Then he remembered poor old Nick slogging away at their office and soon to be their home. 

Their new living quarters were to be upstairs above the office, the building upstairs and down was spacious, airy and freshly painted, the basic and aged bathroom upstairs was between the two bedrooms.

 Kev returned, refreshed and eager to report the excellent news. He started badly. 

Have you not finished yet? 

He meant his comment as a joke; it failed badly. 

You can get stuffed. Some bloody Dutch guy came in complaining about the standard of the work, and the time it was taking. He talked like he owned the place! Who the hell does he think he is? 

Ah, yes, you met our tenant, I see. He’ll take the space over there, we get that bit, plus upstairs. 

Their bit was the smaller half of downstairs.

 You will need to put up a wall dividing the area, with the stairs to be in our bit. 

Nick was sweating profusely, it was not a good idea to give him more work to do; he was not a person to get on the wrong side of when hot! 

Kev, I’m trying to remain calm, I won’t say I’m staying cool, but how about help in here? 

Already got it covered, later this afternoon you’ll see. The lad from the guest house will be over to help you. The nice guy we met at the dinner with the frogs, the amphibian type, not the race. Which reminds me, Kev went off in a dream. 

Showing exactly what Kev was thinking about. Kev’s miming skills would not win him any prizes. 

Never mind crumpet, tell me about the worker. And what about you?

 I have got some contacts to make. 

Kev’s diplomacy talent was even further down the list of trophy winners. 

How about making me some food? 

And so it went on, Kev popped out forgetting Nick’s lunch. 

The French girls might still be at the beach with their coconuts. The fruit, not the other type. It turned out, not only were they at their table, but they also wanted a place to live, as they were planning on staying for a year.

I know just the place, said Kev, thinking hard. 

Kev had planned a trip to the guest house to sort out some labour help for Nick, now he had another reason to go. Khun Daa would know of a decent place for the girls.

Chapter 5

Homes For Rent

MY NEW FRIENDS NEED a place to rent for a year, do you know of anything? If you can help me by finding somewhere suitable, I can help you by giving your nephew a few days of work.

Sure thing, replied the elderly Thai, let’s go.

You donʼt hang about, do you? And about your nephew, Nick will pay him 50 Baht a day to start with and see how he goes. Is that okay? About renting the house, I plan to charge half of whatever you agree as to the deposit for our finder’s fee? As for monthly rent, that’s all yours. If you give a nod to the idea and if the girls agree, they will be our first customers in the private housing side to the new business.

Grand idea, that suits me fine, you get the customers and I’ll find suitable accommodation.

Khun Daa agreed with a smile that said he knew the deal and how it would work.

They soon found a lovely wooden beach house. There would be no need to look for another place to give the girls a choice, as they would like this home. Sure enough, the girls, as predicted, loved the old house, positioned to enjoy seeing the sun dancing on the horizon. This was easy. The best job he ever had, and in the best place.

A bellow shattered Kev’s tranquil mood.

Where the hell have you been, what have you been doing?

Christ Nick, you are not my Mum. What’s the matter?

What is the matter, what is the matter. I am bloody starving, Iʼm sweating like a pig in a riot. I have been up that flimsy ladder all day, and with no one to help, that’s what the matter is. Do you want me to go on?

Oh, a young guy should have come over to help you, I wonder what happened to him?

A young lad turned up, he laughed at my sweaty appearance, so I told him to get lost! In the friendliest way, naturally!

Okay, leave it to me, I’ll sort it out. Come on, I have got to collect some money. I too have been busy. There are two girls I want you to meet.

Nick felt much better when Kev said they were 'peachy'. He caught up as his mate reached the door.

Should I tidy myself up?

No time, we have work to do.

The girls had already moved most of their things to the beach house. Not that they had much to move. Their new home comprised one big wooden room on stilts overlooking the beach. A toilet and shower were at ground level next to the open-air kitchen, just perfect. Emma and Gi had been to the market, got their mosquito nets and some basic kitchen utensils. All set, not only that, they placed their rent money in an envelope with Kevʼs name on it.

Kev introduced Nick, although he was far from looking at his best, sweat still running down his face and his shorts looking stained and stretched out of shape. He put on his best smile.

Emma and Gi had been friends since school. They came from a tiny farming village just outside Paris. Both were bright at school, their teachers and parents expected excellent things. But the young ladies decided further schooling was not for them, at least not for now. The girls were more than just attractive; they were stunning; consistently having to turn down prospective suitors. The girls needed to escape the attention of childish men to 'see the world'.

These girls were fun, always laughing and joking, and they did not laugh at the big guy’s ragged appearance. Nick and Kev were their first guests, and they made them welcome. They served snacks and cold beer in the shade between the stilts on the sand. They all sat on towels, as the girls had yet to purchase any seating. Who needs it when you can sit on the beach?

It was not a shock that the girls found it easy to get friends; it surprised that they chose four-legged pals. The girls had already made friends with the beach dogs, and the scabby creatures had already made themselves at home.

The only downer for both Nick and Kev was that the girls insisted they were not looking for romance, just friendship, two-legged and four.

Kev had to go back to the guesthouse to settle up the rent but promised to return with more beer.

Tomorrow Kev would explain to Nick just how their business would work. Tonight was for fun, using the not so hard-earned cash.

Chapter 6 

Business Meets Death

PART OF THAILAND’S BORDER with Burma ran just south of the provincial capital of Prachuabkhrikhan, less than an hour away from Hua Hin’s town centre. Although there is no official crossing, many traders from both nations nip back and forth with their goods. People use the area to buy and sell, often illegal items. Usually, the sales were conducted in a friendly enough manner.  

 There are cross-border relationships and friendships. On this occasion, however, Burmese men refused to trade with their Thai customers.

 Enough of dealing with you pimps. Any more of our women get snatched, and we’ll start a border war! 

 Yeah right, you think we fear you tramps? We do not understand what you are talking about. 

And so it went on. The bickering escalated. 

Then gunfire could be heard on both sides of the crossing. The entire area was hotting up. Which suited Pu Yai’s ideals and another person’s financial plans. This unfriendly exchange, both verbal and violent, was not uncommon. It went unnoticed by most people in Hua Hin. 

Okay Nick, listen up. It is simple, I find people who want something; houses, trips, transport workers or anything else, then we, or rather you, find whatever it is they want. 

But I am a builder! 

This, my friend, is much easier than stacking bricks, and not as hot! 

Maybe, an underwhelmed builder replied. 

Look how easy this is, already we have a tenant for the office space, who pays nearly the total monthly rent due on the entire building, we now have the two French girls who have paid their rent and deposit already.

Oh yeah, where’s my cut? asked Nick.

I had to spend it making contacts.

There were only a few places in Hua Hin you could call a pub or a bar, unlike Bangkok or Pattaya where there are many. The number of drinking establishments was growing, which was marvellous news for Kev and Nick, who were in the middle of most deals between ʼfalangsʼ and local Thai people. Luck had an enormous part in all of this because language skills were very important. 

It’s hard to believe, but some so-called foreign ‘businessmen’ sign contracts they can’t read! stated Kev.

Nick looked at Kev as if he was making it up. 

You must be joking. Who would do that? 

I heard one guy say: ‘my girlfriend said it was okay’. True, he thought the contract was for three years, it was only for three months. He spent a small fortune doing the place up, then got kicked out, answered Kev.

Serves him right, he should have used us to do the renovations! 

Well, yes, but more to the point, I want to offer a translation and advice service.

You can’t speak Thai, how are you going to do that?

I’m working on it, it’ll come to me.

Nick shook his head, not for the first time about his partner’s schemes. 

Most Thais could not speak English, and most foreign visitors could not speak Thai. Kev had a Thai colleague who likes him and the Brits, and he speaks more than passable English, the guest house owner, who is well known and popular in town. The perfect partner. Another idea was taking shape. 

It helped that Khun Daa would not deal with any foreigner without Kev present. Khun Daa has lived a life to the full, he is full of fun, and had a wealth of tales and stories to relate, great company to be with. And easy to work with. The only thing missing from his life were children of his own. He had a wife; she had died during the War, Khun Daa loved no one else, before or since. There was, however, an unwelcome problem looming, Khun Daaʼs health was failing. It seemed no local Doctor could help; he was just too old, and reaching his age without suffering ill health, was incredible, except for his wartime broken leg. The day came far too soon when Khun Daa called for Kev to visit him. 

Kev arrived at the guest house and was shown through to Khun Daaʼs bedroom. A room packed full of wooden furniture, the drawn curtains made the room seem darker than it was. The elderly gentleman looked like he had lost at least a stone in weight since Kev last saw him, just a few days ago. His skin was yellow and dry, like a newspaper left in the hot sunshine. Kev didn’t want to show what he was feeling, but he gasped. He could not believe his eyes. How could his friend have gone down so fast? 

Kev, the end is near for me. Now I have a few things I want to say to you. As you know I have no children, I will leave the guest house to my sister’s kids, and I need you to do something for me. My nephew Dam needs a guiding hand, he is a talented lad, but wayward, I want you to guide him and set him on the right path. Educate him in Western ways. Hua Hin will soon be a popular tourist town, as you can see, it is growing fast, I want Dam to be a leading light here. That my friend is why I have spent so much time setting you up. Dam will need ex-pat connections. Now I need some help from an Englishman. I have wonderful friends in every important position in town, they will help both you and Dam. Please donʼt let me down, said Daa.

Kev was dumbstruck. He thought he was the genius who got their business cracking.

One more thing, you need to learn to speak Thai. I have arranged it. You start lessons tomorrow, a niece who you have not yet met will arrive from Bangkok tonight, she has recently qualified as a teacher, you are her first pupil. Now please send my family in - good luck Kev.

That was the last he saw of his friend. 

The funeral was arranged quickly; it was the first of many Kev would attend. A Buddhist funeral in Thailand can last many days, this one lasted 9 days, from 11 am to noon, and from 7 pm until 9 pm daily. And then on the last day, they cremate the body, when all the mourners place paper or sandalwood flowers dok mai chan on the body of the deceased. They chant prayers, and everybody says their last goodbyes to the deceased. 

The temple was full, extra seats had to be placed at the back of the temple to ensure everyone could sit down. The Abbot said he had never seen so many attending a Hua Hin ceremony. 

Kev had hated French lessons at school. He remembered one Monday morning telling his mother he had a headache coming on for Thursday. On seeing his mother’s puzzled look, he explained: We have double French on Thursdays.

To his surprise, he enjoyed the Thai lessons. Or was it because of his teacher? She was shy, quiet and beautiful. Kev was falling in love. One hour a day, Monday through Friday and learning fast, and wanting more.

The Thai language differs from French or all the other European tongues. It is a tonal language, sometimes to the untrained ear words that sound nearly the same means the direct opposite. A classic example is near and far, klai, and kai.

Kev missed his old friend more than he could imagine, but otherwise, things were going well. Except for his problem with pronouncing the Thai for ‘near’ and ‘far’.

Chapter 7 

Problems Ahead 

KEV WANDERED INTO THE office at his usual 10 am, not being one to dash about early in the day, he turned on the kettle for coffee, and as he offered Nick one, the language that greeted him a soldier would blush at.

 "That man, that bloody Dutch miserable git, I need to thump him. Believe me, I