Private Dancer by Stephen Leather Page B

out of the bar. I calmed down after an hour or so and went back. Joy wasn't there. Her friend Apple came over and said that Joy had started crying and had gone home.
    Joy telephoned me the following day and said that she'd switched the pictures to see how I'd react. I asked her who the guy in the picture was and she said it was the brother of one of the dancers and that he was a lady boy. A lady boy isn't the same as a katoey - a lady boy hasn't had a sex change and doesn't dress like a girl - but they talk and act girlishly and sometimes wear make up. The guy in the picture hadn't looked like a lady boy to me. I asked her where she'd got the picture from and she said her friend gave it to her before I went to the bar. You see, I know that was a lie. A definite, undeniable, lie. Quite often, when Joy and I went to a short-time hotel, I'd go through her bag while she was in the shower. I'm not particularly proud of it, but I told myself I was doing it because I loved her, because I wanted to know if she really loved me. What was I looking for? Money, partly. I knew that if I found a thousand baht note that she'd been short time. Business cards that other farangs had given her. If I found any,
    I'd throw them away. Once, during the first few weeks when I'd been seeing her, I found a fifty dollar bill in her purse. I felt like shit when I found it, but at least I knew what she was up to.
    Sometimes there'd be a condom in the bag and that made me feel even worse, but at least I knew that she was taking precautions and in a crazy way that made me feel better. Usually though, all I'd find would be a small amount of money, her ID card and cards I'd given her with my address in London and the hotel in Soi 4.
    Anyway, the week before we went to Isarn, I found two photographs in her wallet, tucked in behind her money. They were both the same, the guy in the baseball cap. So when she said she'd only just been given the picture, I knew she was lying. I confronted her, too. And she denied it,
    right down the line, until in the end I was almost convinced that I'd imagined it. Almost, but not quite. It was the same photograph. I couldn't understand why she'd lie. I mean, she was a bargirl,
    if she wanted someone else, all she had to do was to tell me. Why lie?
    Anyway, about a week after we got back, I took her to the karaoke bar with two of her friends. I had to pay bar fines for all three, but I knew that Joy enjoyed herself more if we went as a group and they could take it in turns to sing. I ordered food and we all drank beer. When one of the other girls was singing, Joy leaned over and kissed me on the neck.
    “Pete, I love you too much,” she said. “I not go with farang any more. Only you, Pete.”
    I asked her what she meant. She told me that she'd decided that she wasn't going to allow anyone else to pay her bar fine. “If anyone ask, I tell them I have you,” she said solemnly.
    I was surprised. Really surprised. I'd never asked her to stop working, I didn't think I had the right.
    “I serious, Pete,” she said. “Now I have you, only one.”
    ALISTAIR Pete's appointment was one of the best I've made. He was working hard, much harder than Lawrence even before Lawrence had gone native. The stuff he did on Isarn was brilliant. He's got a real flair for writing but what really impressed me was his insight into Thai culture and customs. Considering he'd only been in Thailand for a couple of months, I think he'd developed an amazing understanding of what made the people tick. His copy was peppered with tidbits of information that was totally new to me, and I've been in South East Asia for the best part of ten years. He was prolific, too, and had totally revised the section on the Isarn region. I sent him a congratulatory memo and suggested to head office that we increase his Christmas bonus.
    He was so far ahead of schedule on the Thailand book that I asked him to spend a month with me in Hong Kong to help me update the regional