The Foursome

The Foursome

This story takes us back to Lantau Island, already visited in my story 'The Physio' - specifically, to a sleepy village called Pui O.

I think I should first explain how four very different characters ended up spending time together one Saturday on the beautiful south coast of the biggest island in what was then the crown colony of Hong Kong. It was July, the warmest and most humid month in the territory, when temperatures hit 34 degrees Celsius during the day and never dip below 28 degrees at night.

Two of the protagonists had a holiday place less than a mile from the village of Pui O at a little hamlet called San Shek Wan, which, if I remember correctly, translates as Scattered Rocky Bay. Their names were Morag and Iain. As you have probably already guessed, they were Scottish, which is how I happened to know them, since we all belonged to the same Scottish Country Dancing group, which met at that time at the Hong Kong Football Club, which is located next to the Happy Valley racecourse.

The other two characters in this drama were Des, an English teacher who lived in Pui O and knew Morag from the British Council, where they both worked, and Christi, a blonde girl, aged around 25 and the baby of the group, who worked in publishing. The youngest she may have been, but it was she who the other three all lusted after, and therefore the one who provides the fulcrum to this story!

It had been arranged that Morag, Iain and Christi would take the ferry and connecting bus and arrive at Des's place at around two o'clock. When they arrived, Morag went to the bathroom and Iain went into the kitchen to get a glass of water for Christi and himself. Left alone with Des in the sitting room, Christi swiftly went up to him and planted a kiss on his lips that, to put it mildly, Des wasn't expecting. She pulled away just in time, as Iain returned with refreshments.

'Wow!' thought Des. 'I've only met this girl once before and she's coming onto me like a bitch in heat.'

He understood that the plan was for her to spend the night with the other two, but he could be forgiven for thinking that, with a little luck, things might pan out differently. Morag clearly had the hots for her, but she was a big woman and Des didn't think the luscious Christi, though reputed to be bi, would be up for a torrid session with her. Iain was another matter, even if he was known to swing both ways. A lecturer at the University of Hong Kong, he was perhaps 12 years older than Christi, but he was a handsome kind of fellow in his own way, and very charming and witty to boot. Des realised he'd have to see how things developed during the afternoon before making any move.

After they'd chatted for a while, Morag suggested that they walked over to San Shek Wan. She knew a place where they could go skinny-dipping, which involved scrambling up the rocky stream that passed their place and flowed into the sea perhaps 100 yards further down the hill. Des waited to see what the others thought of the idea before chiming in with his five cents. Everyone was keen on the idea, so, as casually as he could, he said he'd be up for it too.

As they made their way upstream over the giant boulders between which the rill rushed to the sea, Des tried to remember if he had ever swum naked before. Given that the family holidays had been off the coast of West Wales, he thought probably not. Needless to say, he struggled to keep his eyes fixed on where he should place his feet, and sometimes his hands, as images of Christi in all her glory flooded his mind.

The strange thing was that when the time came for them to take their clothes off, he didn't cast a single glance in her direction. Neither, for that matter, did he attempt to flex his muscles or in any way show off his not inconsiderable - so he had been told - assets. He just jumped in and enjoyed the cool mountain water, descending from its source 2,000 feet up near the summit of Sunset Peak.

The four of them gambolled about like teenagers, dive bombing each other and generally having a good time. When they finally called it a day, they each took one of the towels provided by Morag and Iain, got dressed and made their way back to their flat, full of good humour.

Once there, they discussed where they should eat, and decided on a restaurant run by a South African in the village of Tong Fuk, about three miles away. Since it was still reasonably early and light for another hour or so, they decided to walk there along Cheung Sha beach (the longest in Hong Kong) rather than on the road. Once they got to the restaurant, which was called The Galley and is still there to this day, I am told, though under different ownership, they ordered beers all round and were soon regaling one another with the latest gossip from work.

Christi, befitting her position as the centre of attention, spoke the least and measured out her laughter less according to the merit of the anecdote being told and more according to who she wished to bestow her favour upon. Iain, a natural raconteur, received a healthy helping of her approbation but the greater part was reserved for Des, who was a fine impressionist. When he did his imitation of Richie Benaud, a cricket commentator she had barely heard of and had never knowingly heard speak, she dissolved in hysterics. Poor old Morag was resigned from the outset to the fact that the bisexual beauty was not seeking her comfort that evening in the arms of another woman.

After a couple of rounds of beers, they switched to a South African red wine recommended by the proprietor. As they were ordering a second bottle, they thought it was probably time to order the food, which came after another twenty minutes or so, by which time it was time to order a third bottle. Suffice it to say, everyone was getting pretty merry.

There was, Iain said, only one way to conclude the evening, and that was to use the restaurant's music machine - a kind of precursor to the home karaoke machines that were becoming popular at that time. Morag, who had a fine voice and felt this represented her last chance to impress Christi, sang a standard ballad whose identity has been lost in the mists of time, while Des did one of the few songs he knew all the words to, 'I've got you under my skin'. As may be imagined, Christi demurred when asked if she would like to have a go, so it was left to Iain, who, on a scale of 1 to 10, had a singing voice that was nearer to zero.

He chose to 'sing' 'The house of the rising sun' - a rendition that has gone down in folklore among the Celtic community in Hong Kong and, very possibly, beyond. The kindest thing you can say about his effort was that he knew the words. There was also something in common between Iain's voice and Eric Burdon's deep and powerful blues-rock voice, but that similarity ended with the depth and the power. On no occasion during the two and a half minutes that the song lasted did Iain sing any of the notes that had been allotted to their respective words. It was so bad that Julian, the proprietor, was in tears. Laughter like this hadn't been heard at The Galley in years.

When the party finally left just before midnight, they could probably be heard at Her Majesty's Correctional Services facility a way down the road at Shek Pik. There was an animated discussion about how they should get back to Shan Shek Wan. There being no taxis around and little chance of finding one at that time of night on a quiet country road, it was a straight choice between walking back along the beach or taking the pavement beside the road. In the end, the beach won, which was probably the right decision given the difficulty any of the party had in walking straight.

Des said goodbye to Iain, Morag and of course Christi outside their place. He hugged Iain, kissed Morag on the cheek and was wondering how he should handle the business of farewelling Christi, when she took matters out of his hands by kissing him on the forehead and slipping a piece of paper into his hand. It was her phone number.

Des remembers nothing about the short walk home or the rest of that evening. As far as he was concerned, he was quite simply the luckiest man alive. He couldn't wait for the following afternoon to come, when he would phone her and they would make a date.