Job to Do

Job to Do

"Not exactly a cathedral is it?" Hla asked herself. She walked along the river bank opposite the St Joseph Church. Deciding she wanted to watch the comings and goings of folk with their mobile phones snapping shot upon a shot of the yellow tower and modest construction of the oldest Catholic Church in Thailand. The majestic river made a perfect backdrop. She entered the Ruean Kanya Restaurant and sat at a table with a perfect view across the Chao Phraya river. Tourists could cause them a problem, or they could be a benefit? She wondered as she ordered a snack of river prawn salad, enjoying its spicy tang of flavours.

"Pity we didn't go in. Did you know the Burmese destroyed the church?" said a woman sitting at a table behind her.

"Yes, it says so in the guidebook," replied an elderly gentleman sitting with her.

"But they rebuilt it."

"Yes, dear," said the man, clearly bored with churches.

This news was not new to Hla, Nick had already told her. What the lady did not read in the leaflet, was that the Pope's gold ring was hidden away from invading armies, marauders, thieves or wayward builders. Nick knew it was inside a cross, or very near a crucifix, somewhere inside the main building.

"Thank God it is not under the huge cross at the top of the tower," she chuckled to herself, pleased she wouldn't have to climb up to the top and smirking at the thought of 'thanking God'. She got odd looks from the couple behind which made her smile wider.

She tipped her water glass in a 'cheers' gesture. The tourists instantly averted their gaze across the river, huffing.

Hla boarded a river shuttle boat, cruising up and down enjoying the voyage checking there would be no surprises later when they revisited the church. She decided it was time to view the interior, so alighting from the boat she wandered the concrete walkway leading to the main entrance. She expected the doors to be wide open, welcoming Christians from around the world, but no, the doors were not only closed; they were firmly locked. A hand-painted sign was swinging loosely from the metal handles as she approached the entrance. 'Sorry Closed Today. Renovations in Progress.'

"Is that good or bad?" she thought. "Gives us more time, maybe not, depending on the builders work hours?"

Walking around, looking up at stained glass windows and checking the priests' doors, she went to find Nick and Philippa.

Nick had a stack of literature, next to him, some read, some binned and some as yet untouched. Philippa, fidgeted as she flicked through the tv channels.

"Nothing to watch," she moaned.

"Get a book," said Hla, as she entered the bedroom.

She pulled Nick to one side and reported on her visit to St Joseph's. He soaked up the information but did not comment. Philippa surprised the others with her interest.

"So, many people were just wandering around, even though they couldn't go in?" she asked.

"They probably didn't know it was closed until they arrived?" answered Hla.

"Tell me more about the boat and the restaurant," she asked.

Hla reported everything she had witnessed, including her meal. Philippa was deep in thought for a few moments.

"I'm going to have a look. Just in case you missed something." With that, she put on her trainers and slammed the door.

"What was all that about?" asked Hla, not expecting an answer and not getting one as Nick had his nose in a brochure.

Philippa skipped and bopped along the path, looking years younger than thirteen. She boarded a near-empty boat. The man waved away her attempt at paying the fare with a smile.

She alighted on the opposite side and walked near the restaurant. She heard the crash of broken crockery and the raised voice of an infuriated woman.

"That's the second day running you've smashed one of my plates, I'm taking that out of your wags."

"I have had no wages!" A young boy wailed.

"And you're getting none. You are fired."

A teenage lad flashed his middle finger at the woman as an iron skillet bounced off the wall near his retreating head.

He ducked again and ran to the pathway.

"Don't cry," said Philippa.

"I'm not crying, I'm furious at that old cow," he said.

"You have tears running down your face. Let me dry them," Philippa said, moving close to the boy.

She gently put her arm across his shoulders.

"No Thai girl would touch me like that," he said.

"No, they wouldn't, come with me," Philippa said, as she led him behind a small copse of trees.

The boy was panting, not knowing what to expect or what to hope for.

"My name is Khun Jim."

"I don't care what your name is, come here." She nuzzled his ear.

"I, er, I shouldn't, you are too young," he said, quaking.

"I am not as young as I look," she purred as she nipped his ear.

"Shouldn't we go somewhere else? Maybe people will see us?"

"Where do you suggest? Can you afford a restaurant?"

"Er, no."

"Do you have a car?"

"No, you know I don't," said Jim.

"Well then, here is fine."

"Okay," he said, about to rub noses Thai style, before a real kiss.

Her arm, fast as a cobra, forced his ear onto his shoulder. The bare, unprotected neck screamed at her. She clamped her teeth into his throbbing jugular vein.

Blood spurted past her cheeks before she securely caught the vein in her eager mouth.

Sucking blood, long and hard between breathing deeply with her nose and sucking dry air. She coughed and spluttered.

"This will take more practice," she grinned.

There was no mirth from Jim he would laugh no more, as he crumpled away from her. She kicked him further under an overhanging branch. Licking her lips and using the back of her hands to clean the dark red blood from her face.

She skipped whistling to the hotel.