Stephen Leather: Bangkok Bob and the missing Mormon

‘What do I tell them?’

‘The truth,’ I said. ‘Generally that works. Your parents are good people, Jon, They’ll stand by you.’

He nodded and took the phone from me.

There was an intellectual argument going on when I walked into Fatso’s. Relentless was claiming that he’d met a girl called Komon Fukme working for the Bangkok Bank. Bruce and Alan were claiming that he was making it up.

Big Ron was holding court in his massive chair. Kom was a fairly common prefix for girl’s names he said, and Fuk, a type of vegetable, was often used in surnames. Komon Fukme wasn’t as far-fetched as it sounded.

Bruce wouldn’t have it and kept shaking his head and muttering ‘no way’. I eased myself onto the stool next to Big Ron’s. One of the Fatso’s girls was already opening a bottle of Phuket Beer for me.

Relentless raised the stakes and said that he’d once shared a taxi with a girl called Sukmy Boobies and Alan threw a handful of peanuts at him.

I leaned over and slowly rang the bell three times. The Fatso’s girls cheered and began pouring drinks for everyone.

Big Ron grinned and pointed a finger at me. ‘I knew it,’ he said triumphantly.

‘I should have listened to you,’ I said.

‘A girl?’

‘Oh yes.’

‘And a beach?’

‘Indeed.’

‘Who’s the daddy?’ shouted Big Ron.

‘You are,’ I said. ‘You’re the daddy.’

Big Ron tilted his head back and howled at the ceiling like a wolf in heat.

Oh well. You live and learn.

If you’re lucky.