The only problem for her had been Rick, slim and athletic he brought American tour groups to South East Asia four times a year and always summoned her to spend two weeks with him at the end of the tour. Once he had given her a thousand USD and often two hundred dollars would turn up in her bank account. This was money she could not, would never be able to, afford to lose. Da knew that she was beautiful, more than that she was vibrant with personality to burn. Men, particularly Farangs, loved being seen in public with her, seeing other men’s envious looks. She knew her body wasn’t so hot any more, Per had seen to that. Married at fourteen, giving birth at fifteen; her husband, thirty years older and furiously jealous- with good reason, she had fucked half the village boys before he started beating her, then one day bashing him back, unnaturally strong, she had broken his nose and blackened his eyes, telling him he wasn’t Per’s father. The laughing stock of the village he had moved to Thailand in humiliation and the family had brought Da down to Paul at the Samlo Pub.

Max had often joked about giving her a good hiding and one day she had wrapped her arms around him and lifted him off the ground. At that time he had been ninety six kilograms, exactly twice her weight. A fly in the ointment had been Paul’s wife Dang, the Thai girl, who always wanted Da to go with her to the expensive hotels to pick up rich travellers. She had given that up but Dang had harped on about it constantly, unable to understand why she would give up the money for Max.

Too complicated, too close to home.

Their life had been better than good, Max had soon tired of the disco scene, happy to have a few beers around town and talk bullshit to the tourists. She took him to Lao weddings and birthday parties and it was if he had been born to it. Never superior, only returning a wai if it was offered, shaking hands gently without the bone crushing grip detested by Asian men- most of whom could have taken out a Farang twice their size, and dancing with the old ladies in the traditional circle. He ate and drank everything offered, even dipping into the tray of duck’s blood with chilli, coriander and peanuts offered after a bar-see, the traditional Lao religious ceremony held in the home on special occasions, one night. The ex-monk doing the ceremony, deeply impressed, had thanked Max for coming in a formal speech and made jokes about the quality of Lao pussy. Even Da didn’t know how much he understood, but he always looked as though he followed every word and laughed in the right places.