-Track Thirteen-
It had been a long but interesting coach journey to Siem Reap. Charles and Elvin looked through temple guides and tourist maps while taking in the breath-taking scenery en-route. Wayne and Nit conversed with squawks, squeals, and sign language, much to the amusement of the others, who now called their unique hybrid language, Waynit.
Steve slept for most of the later stage of the journey but spent the first part from Phnom Penh chatting with his new friend, Ollie.
They’d caught the early morning VIP Paramount coach service for the seven-hour journey to Siem Reap and Wayne talked the others into letting Nit come. Charles and Elvin sat together discussing Cambodian architecture and Steve sat alone contemplating his diminishing snuff supplies. The coach had just left Phnom Penh when an Englishman plonked himself down in the seat next to Steve.
“Can I sit here?” He asked, “I'm sitting next to a Khmer man who spoke no English.”
Steve looked at the man whose breath stank of whiskey, nodded, and said, “Yeah, that’s okay.”
“I’m Ollie,” he said and shook Steve’s hand. “I’m here for a few weeks’ travelling Cambodia. I have already toured other countries around Southeast Asia”
Steve smiled and said, “you look like you could do with some sunshine, mate.”
Ollie chuckled and said. “I know, but I only arrived in Cambodia late last night. I wanted to go to Siem Reap as soon as possible to see Angkor Wat.”
Steve thought he recognised Ollie from the previous night at Sharkys, but didn’t mention it.
“That’s a nice camera,” said Steve.
“Thanks,” said Ollie and took a photograph of the scenery out of the window. “My father bought it for me. It’s top of the range.” He showed Steve the large digital camera and said, “I can take stills and up to 4-hours of video with one card. I always take it on my travels and use it for work.” He smiled and said, “I’m an estate agent in London.”
Ollie asked many questions, but nothing that aroused Steve’s suspicion.
The bus pulled into the halfway point restaurant in Kampong Thom. They got off the bus and Steve introduced Ollie to the others.
Steve spent the second leg of the journey napping.
They pulled into the Siem Reap town bus station in the afternoon.
Ollie nudged Steve. “We’ve arrived.”
Steve woke up and yawned.
“Which hotel are you staying at?” asked Ollie, but he already knew.
Steve took a booking receipt from his pocket, read it, and said. “The Angkor Pearl.”
Ollie looked surprised, smiled, and said, “Me too. Perhaps we can hang out together for a few days in Siem Reap.”
Steve looked at the pallid man and could not see why he would want to hang around with a bunch of old farts. He shrugged and said, “yeah, if you want.”
They checked into the Angkor Pearl Hotel and then congregated poolside to plan their schedule.
“We still have time to see this today,” said Charles, showing them pictures of the Bayon temple.
Steve sighed, but having nothing better to do he went along; besides Ollie seemed keen to go, so he would have someone to talk with.
They hired two tuk-tuks for the twenty-minute journey to the Bayon temple.
Looking out of the noisy vehicles as they bumped along, they passed carved stone elephants by streams. Ollie took photos of them and tall trees lining roads, making sure he got at least one of the band in the shot. Minibuses and coaches sped past, making their little vehicles wobble.
Relieved after their short, harrowing journey, they walked around the ancient temple site in the blistering afternoon sun.
Huge carved stone Bayon faces stared down at them as a Cambodian tour guide came over and detailed the history behind the carvings and the temples. Charles and Elvin listened to the guide as he explained how the statues were hand-carved from solid sandstone. The two old men tried to imagine the ancient people and their backbreaking effort to create such a spectacle. Steve wasn’t paying much attention, his Kendle shortage and beer played on his mind. Wayne and Nit were only interested in each other, while Ollie concentrated on ways to get evidence to prove that these old men were Fossils.
The guide showed them around a sandstone wall with deities carved into it. Steve burst out laughing and pointed at one stone face. The others looked at the wall, then at Elvin. Wayne and Charles then burst out laughing. Nit and Ollie smiled as Elvin glared at Steve.
“What?” said Steve and shrugged. “I haven’t said anything.”
“No,” said Elvin “But I know what you’re all finking.”
He glared at them all and said. “That gargoyle looks fuck all like me.”
“Take a photo Ollie,” said Steve, chuckling and pointing at the stone face.
Ollie chuckled, changed his settings to wide-angle, and took a selfie of him and Steve pointing, much to Elvin’s annoyance.
Thirty minutes later, they got back into the tuk-tuks.
Returning to The Angkor Pearl late afternoon, Ollie went to a print shop while the others went for a nap.
They met early evening in the restaurant and ate. Elvin and Charles chatted about the Bayon temple and said they wanted an early night before the next day’s tour of Angkor Wat. Wayne and Nit wanted an early night, although for other reasons. Steve just wanted a beer and didn’t care if he woke up in time, he’d already had enough of seeing boring old stone heads and traipsing around hot, sticky temples.
“So did you get your photos printed Ollie?”
Ollie nodded.
“Let’s see them then,” said Steve and smirked.
Ollie went to his room and removed several photos before taking the others to the restaurant.
“Here,” smiled Ollie, handing them to Steve.
Steve shuffled through the boring scenery images and took out a print. “Can I have a copy of this one,” he said looking at Elvin. ‘I’ll get these enlarged and hang them in the Wellow,’ he thought and smirked
“Sure,” said Ollie, “you can have that one. I will get another one printed.”
Elvin glared at Steve as he folded the print of him and Ollie standing with the sandstone Elvin gargoyle and put it in his pocket.
Ollie, hoping to single out Steve, said. “I hope you don’t mind if I give the temples a miss tomorrow.” He held out his arms and said, “I caught too much sun today and with having fair skin I burn easily.”
“They look like boiled crab claws,” said Steve, “I bet they’re sore.”
Ollie nodded and said. “Maybe I’d better stay indoors.”
His gamble paid off as Steve said. “Yeah, I don’t fancy the temples either. I will hang around with Ollie.”
Ollie nodded and smirked.
They finished eating, talked for a while, and then Charles, Elvin, Wayne, and Nit went to their rooms.
Ollie and Steve made plans for the evening and, deciding to start at Pub Street, they caught a tuk-tuk. As they drove along in the noisy, rattling vehicle, Steve’s phone rang. He looked at the number and answered. “Hang on love,” he shouted into the phone and shouted at the tuk-tuk driver to stop while he listened to his daughter, who sounded excited. They spoke for several minutes and Steve smiled. Ollie couldn’t hear the details as he listened in on their conversation, but it sounded like an opportunity had just presented itself.
“Everything okay, Steve?” asked Ollie.
“That was my daughter with good news,” said Steve smiling.
“Oh fantastic,” said Ollie. “It sounds like we have some celebrating to do tonight,” he paused, looked confused, chuckled, and asked. “What are we celebrating, exactly?”
Steve looked at Ollie who seemed carefree and sociable.
“I’ll tell you later,” said Steve, and barked out an instruction to the driver. “Drive on mate, the birds, and beer are waiting.”
The tuk-tuk sped towards Pub Street, but the noisy vehicles 250cc two-stroke engine made conversation difficult, so they both sat in silence, smiling.
Pub Street teamed with people walking on the wide pathways between the bars and restaurants. With the throng of mainly Chinese tourists walking past the bars and restaurants, most of them were empty.
“Here,” said Steve and went to sit at a table outside a corner bar. “They must have live music,” he said and pointed at the bar with a keyboard and guitar set up on a small stage.
Ollie sat and ordered two draft beers.
“How’s the sunburn?” asked Steve.
“Still a little sore,” said Ollie rubbing his arm.
They sat at the Banana Leaf restaurant and listened to a trio playing and as they drank beer, Ollie ordered them whiskey.
As the night wore on, Ollie heard Steve’s speech slurring, so asked about his daughter. Steve rambled on about Lucy and Ollie looked interested as he plied Steve with whisky and beer and asked. “Oh, What’s the good news we’re celebrating?”
Steve took a swig of his beer, leaned forward, and whispered. “What I am about to tell you may sound unbelievable, so don’t repeat this to anyone.”
Ollie looked at him, appeared confused, and shook his head. “No, of course not,” he said and grinned. “This sounds intriguing. You aren’t an old spy are you?”
Steve chuckled and said. “No… But have you heard of Fossils?”
“Sure,” said Ollie. “Why, have you found a rare one that’s worth a fortune?”
Steve furrowed his brow.
“No… not those Fossils… Fossils… the band.”
Ollie shook his head.
“Britain’s new pop sensations,” said Steve, grinning.
“Never heard of them,” said Ollie. “Mind you I have been travelling for six weeks, so I don’t know what’s happening at home.”
Steve grinned and said. “We are Fossils.”
He explained the Fossil’s saga, how they had formed, won the national competition, and fled England to escape being found out until things got sorted. He said they needed to avoid the British public discovering the truth, ridiculing them and their families, and sued by BBC and Virgin records.
Ollie smiled as Steve spilt his secrets.
Ollie felt ecstatic as Steve confirmed his suspicions of them being Fossils. Although appearing calm, his desire screamed as his exclusive story unfolded more dramatically, superseding his expectations. He knew this story was the pinnacle of his career, his ticket to greatness within the journalistic community. Wanting to get this information written down as soon as possible so he wouldn’t forget any details, he looked at his watch and said. “That’s a fantastic story about you and the others being a fugitive boy band, Steve, and I would love to hear more, but it’s almost midnight and the band’s finished. How about we have one more for the road and go back to the hotel?”
Steve saw Ollie now looking bored, so thinking he didn’t believe him, said, “Yeah, okay,” and finished his beer.
“I’ll grab a couple of beers and whisky’s on the way back from the toilet,” said Ollie and stood.
Steve chuckled after Ollie left the table. ‘I suppose my story sounded far-fetched.’ he thought as. something then caught his eye ‘What’s that?’
He looked over to where Ollie had been sitting and picked up a leather wallet. ‘It must have fallen out of Ollie's pocket,’ he thought and opened the wallet to check.
“What the… Estate agent my arse!” exclaimed Steve and stared at the card behind the clear plastic holder at the front.
Steve saw Ollie come out of the toilet and go to the bar, so he placed his wallet on the table and thoughts raced through his mind. ‘What have I done? What do I do?’
He glared as Ollie rushed to the table looking anxious.
“Have you seen my wallet? I think I drop…. Oh, there it is,” said Ollie and grabbed his wallet from the table.
“It fell on the floor so I picked it up,” said Steve, glowering at him.
“Phew! Thanks,” Ollie exclaimed and seeing Steve glaring, said. “I’ll go get the drinks,” and he sauntered off to the bar.
Steve felt angry, and thought, ‘Why did I let him dupe me so easily?’ He recalled their conversation on the coach journey and thought. ‘I should have realised when Ollie said he had been travelling for six weeks because there’s no way his skin would be that white after six weeks of travelling Southeast Asia. He also said that he arrived late last night, but it wasn’t late when I saw him at Sharkys. That should have alerted me. I am an old fool,’ he sighed. ‘One consolation I suppose; luck or good karma must be on our side for him to drop his wallet with his press card inside.’ Steve stared at the table and pondered. ‘What am I going to tell the others, and how will they feel knowing we have to move again?’ he then glowered over at the bar.
Ollie stood at the bar and saw Steve looking angry.
‘Damn, he must have seen my press card. I need to rethink my plans, but I need to film them playing,’ thought Ollie.
Ollie came from the bar with two beers and two whiskies.
He smiled as he sat down, but picking up a frosty vibe from Steve, knew he had found out about him, and said. “My arms don’t feel too bad now and we passed a twenty-four-hour mini-mart on the way here. I’ll buy after-sun lotion on the way to the hotel and go with the others to Angkor Wat tomorrow. That’s what I came here to see, and I would prefer to go with people I know,” he smiled.
‘What’s your game buster?’ thought Steve as he gulped down the beer.
“Yeah, okay, let’s go back to the hotel. I’m knackered,” said Steve. He yawned and rubbed his face, and said, “Oh, hang on. I better go to the shithouse first.”
Ollie helped Steve unsteadily to his feet and watched him stagger to the toilet.
‘The old boy looks exhausted and drunk. He will be straight off to sleep and won’t be awake early enough to tell the others,’ thought Ollie and chuckled. ‘Once I’ve convinced the others about my press card, Steve will believe them and everything will be fine.’ Ollie smirked and finished his beer.
“I’m ready for bed,” said Steve returning from the toilet looking weary.
They caught a tuk-tuk from the many parked outside Banana Leaf and after stopping to get after-sun lotion and high factor sunblock, returned to the hotel. Ollie helped Steve out of the small 3-wheeled vehicle, took his arm, led him into reception, sat him down, and collected his room key.
“Thanks Ollie.” slurred Steve and staggered to his room.
Ollie watched as the tired old man went into his room and closed the door. He smirked and then went to his room.
Ten minutes later, Steve walked out of his room looking fresh. His nose still tingled from the clump of Kendal’s he took in the Banana Leaf’s toilet, but he was on a mission, and he tapped on Elvin’s door.
Steve woke Elvin, Charles, and Wayne and they sat in Elvin’s room, knowing it must be something urgent for Steve to be so agitated.