Under the Knife Ch. 02

Contains M-F sex in detail

This is the second chapter of Under the Knife but it is not essential to have read that, but it may help with the characters and setting.

* Hi H. I've arrived safe. Sit Rep is ok but I'll know more tmrw. Be in touch, E xx *

Hannah read the message again, and then scrolled back to look at their message history that only extended a week. She smiled at the irony of it -- from tentative meeting through winks and kisses, to sad farewell emojis. A whole relationship encapsulated in thirty lines.

"Anyone interesting or just work?" Charlie asked, handing her a long glass of fresh juice.

"It was Eden. Letting me know she was back home safe," Hannah replied.

"Thanks Charlie, that looks lovely," she continued, putting the phone away to turn to her host.

"Is she okay?" Charlie asked. "Here, I've cut up some fruit for breakfast and I'll have those pancakes ready in five minutes."

Hannah had met Charlie the previous day, the same day that her friend Eden had to suddenly fly back to the UK to manage a family crisis. Eden and Hannah had met at a conference and decided to have some beach time together, but just as the door opened to romance, the crisis bomb exploded.

Charlie had retired in his forties and now owned a bar on a beach in Koh Tao. He was familiar with the comings and goings of holidaymakers -- the weekly tide, he called it. He'd turned tourist spotting into a hobby and boasted that he could identify a dodgy relationship at fifty meters, a bully at one hundred, and a Brit before they even stepped off the ferry.

Charlie hadn't admitted it to Hannah, but he'd watched the intense frisson between her and Eden the previous day and it made him jealous. Both women were attractive, slim, English and intelligent -- those details he read at a glance. What really interested him was their passion. From the safety of his bar, he had been able to watch their nascent relationship blossom in front of his eyes, right up to their kiss.

It must be their first kiss, surely, he'd guessed. Who were they? The tall one with short dark hair looked in her late thirties, professional, so maybe a lawyer? She looked like she could handle herself in an argument and win -- the sort of woman that younger men would either run away from or fall at her feet, begging to be dominated.

'I've got it!' Charlie suddenly twigged a similarity. 'She's like Trinity in the Matrix.'

As they'd flirted, the younger girl looked tentative. Maybe that was just her age, in her late twenties. Academic maybe? Clearly she did lots of sports and was an outdoorsy kind of a girl, with shoulder length, mousey coloured blond hair that was naturally wavy.

Neither woman was the sort to fuss overly with their appearance - tasteful high street fashion, he'd noted.

Yes, he was jealous. What man doesn't envy the intimacy of lesbians; but it was more than that. It was the rare joy of witnessing the flowering of love and it didn't matter what gender they were. To Charlie, love was boundless, intoxicating and beautiful. He envied their happiness.

He smiled to himself and recalled his own youthful relationships, until his musings were interrupted by the demand for cocktails. His speciality was a wooden bucket of the stuff, with crushed ice, coloured blue with Curacao and served with a handful of straws. All the beach kids loved it and he was often kept busy long into the night.

When he thought to look again for the two women, they'd gone, making him smile once again.

'Oh to be a fly on their wall,' his wicked imagination chuckled, until his inner, sober voice admonished him, telling him to grow up and show some respect.

Charlie's head was full of morality battles, but he was only flesh and blood and besides, what was he supposed to do when he saw bare breasts or the flash of pussy as a girl swung herself off a bar stool?

'Thinking it is no crime,' he reassured himself. 'Acting on it makes you a creep.'

Charlie took his professional boundaries seriously.

* * * *

The next day he glanced up from a drinks stock-take to see the same two women in a tense conversation. His heart sank.

'What has gone wrong?' he wondered. 'Hell, they were chewing each other's lips off last night. People! People! Why can't they look around and see how lucky they are to be in such a beautiful setting?'

He saw them leave in a taxi towards the harbour -- it was the only destination in that direction.

"Another ruined holiday by the looks of things," he sighed, wiping sand from the fridge top. He had staff to clean the bar, but they were Thai and couldn't see the top of the fridge because they were too short.

"Boss?" Prep, his barman asked, seeing Charlie's contemplation.

"Nothing. Just grockle-spotting." Charlie replied, taking the crate of diet Cokes from Prep.

"Pretty lady, boss?" Prep snickered, his eyebrows raised impossibly high in encouragement.

"Two pretty ladies, Prep. Two! And they've just left, dammit!"

"Shall I call my sister, Boss? She stays over for festival on Friday. You like my sister, Boss."

Prep laughed again, and ducked the dishcloth Charlie threw at him.

"You're a bloody pimp, Prep. Fuck me, stop pushing your sister on me. You'd sell your grandma if you could."

The smile vanished from Prep's scolded face and he nodded to himself as though adsorbing important knowledge. The two of them turned to fill the drinks shelves.

"You know, Boss," Prep ventured, "Grandma Prep make best Pad Thai in Samui. Maybe older man like you..."

He was too quick for Charlie, who launched an empty bottle at him, then chased him across the sand. They were both laughing as they ran, Prep easily out-running the heavier built Charlie, glancing round at his pursuer with a big-toothed smile.

They finished a few hundred meters away, gasping and laughing, Charlie leaned his hands onto his knees at first then straightened to point his finger in feigned threats to Prep, who danced, mocking him, from one foot to the other, safely out of reach.

Excitement over, they walked back with their arms over each other's shoulder to the bar.

It wasn't like real work at all and Shark Bay was a beautiful place to live. Charlie had travelled the world, but decided to stay seven years ago, and bought the bar.

Later that day, with a lazy drone of torpid customers dropping by, Charlie let Prep take charge, while he did what he enjoyed most -- taking his favourite seat to watch the world go by. Not long after he saw the blonde girl again and his curiosity was piqued.

She'd settled herself down on the sand to read, and just as he was trying to think how to start a conversation, a Swedish boy emerged to preen himself with an idiotic display of vanity. He was a regular at Shark Bay and was clearly a spoiled brat, getting off on his own ego by posing around with a ceremonial Tai Chi sword.

Charlie watched the girl for her reaction. She looked up at the Swede and her shoulders began shaking in mirth.

"He's a total knobhead isn't he?" Charlie spoke loud enough for her to hear. "He just wants to get laid, like everyone else, but someone gave him Tua and the Elephant and he thought it was a guide book.

"What are you reading, by the way? Miss? Miss Pretending not to hear but forgot your ear-buds."

The girl turned to give him a withering look, but Charlie was not going to give in that easily.

"Ah, so you are English," he laughed. "Forgive my intrusion. I'm Charlie, and I'm bored today."

"Perhaps you should find a book?" the girl replied, folding the page closed and setting it on her lap. She was bored too.

"I only do colouring-in books and I forgot my crayons." He laughed, taking a sip of his drink, then jangling the ice cubes in the glass.

"There's a whole beach here. Find a stick," she retorted.

"I'm not a bloody dog. How rude!" Charlie snorted.

"I meant, draw something with a stick," she explained slowly.

Charlie found a stick and drew a large phallus in the sand in front of her. She was on the point of leaving, but he waved her back down.

"Not done yet," he smirked.

He turned the dick into a comedy face -- a sailor with a pipe and bulging eyes. A parrot appeared next in the sand, then a laughing whale.

Charlie wielded the stick casually in one hand, his drink in the other.

She was disarmed, and chewed her lip in an effort to hide her growing smile.

"Can I buy you supper?" Charlie asked, throwing the stick away.

"Why?" she asked with suspicion.

"I'd like to show you my etchings." He winked, twirling an imaginary moustache.

"Are you a psychopath? Any form with axes or shallow graves?" she teased.

"You're a character -- I don't know your name yet."

"Hannah."

"Hello Hannah. Should you accept, come and find me at the bar later. I won't be far away." Charlie kept his distance respectful.

"Are you always at a bar, Charlie?"

"Only this one, Hannah. I own it. I'd welcome a decent conversation. That's a great book by the way. Love Margaret Atwood."

"Maybe later then, Charlie." Hannah re-opened the page.

Charlie knew that was his cue to back off and not become a nuisance. He'd played his best cards and all he could do was hope she'd make his day by joining him later.

Hannah was intrigued. Discussing feminist literature in Thailand wasn't among her expectations, but since she was now properly on her own and Charlie didn't seem the axe-murdering type, then company over dinner might be welcome.

Alternatively, she could hitch up with the diving crowd, but invariably their plans meant getting shit-faced on cocktails, smoking dope and telling jokes, in six different languages.

She could hear Charlie's voice from the bar behind her, making chit chat with a customer. To avoid further idle conversation she finished her drink, folded down the page corner and wandered back across the beach, certain that his eyes would be following. She must try not to trip over and look like a prat.

Hannah washed the sand from her feet and the stale sun lotion from her skin in the dive centre, where they had warm showers, unlike her beach hut. She put her name down for a dive the next day, knowing that the conditions were still perfect and the water around the island crystal clear.

The previous day she'd buddy-dived with a German instructor, Diana, and they were delighted to find sea-horses not far off the beach. Diana had a good eye for spotting sea life, but it took Hannah a couple of moments to recognise the camouflaged creatures from their seaweed surroundings.

Being transgender, she had an affinity with sea-horses because the males bear the unborn young, giving the female time to make more eggs. Equality and gender roles swapped for species survival. They also mate for life, which Hannah found compelling and romantic. Seeing them in the wild for the first time made for a memorable dive.

Once back on board the dive boat, Diana had explained that the creatures were a local delicacy, despite a government ban on catching them. The news sullied the excitement of their find and she shared a long look of despondency with Diana. Such news wasn't too much of a surprise to Hannah, who was a marine biologist at a university in the UK. Much of her research related to the pressures on sea life.

From their brief acquaintance and shared interest, she hoped Diana would be rostered for her next dive. She enjoyed her company and found her an attractive companion.

Hannah gestured a wave to the staff as she made her way back to her beach hut, carrying just her swim bag, with her towel as a sarong. As she climbed the uneven steps to the veranda she noticed something against the door.

There was a large bouquet and a printed card.

'We have so much to share, my love. Please don't judge me too harshly. Eden x'

Hannah looked from the card to the beautiful flowers and slumped onto the bench, suddenly sobbing. For a few moments she didn't care if anyone saw that her mask was down, that her raw feelings bled through her cradling fingers. She had carefully packed away the disappointment of losing Eden in a pretence of being cool, but this sweet kindness up-ended the ragged emotions in her heart.

She felt wretched. She held the card in one shaking hand and pinched her lips tight with the other as she replayed moments of their brief time together in a staccato of images. Her tears fell freely as wet circles in the sand at her feet.

After a few moments she stubbornly corralled her silly feelings back into check. She wiped her nose inelegantly with the back of her hand in a snot smeared trail, then squeezed the last tears from her eyes with the heels of her hands.

She exhaled and sat blinking, her face now expressionless, her heart numb. In truth it felt as though she'd only slammed a door closed on the baying crowd of her emotions. She couldn't face them until their voices were calmed.

Sometimes it was time or sleep that silenced them, other times drink, but she often recalled the relief that cutting once brought, red beads on pale skin distracting her from the tumult in her head. She shook the thought away, she was passed that.

"What a cow," Hannah sniffed wryly. "She knew I'd cry."

She picked up the bouquet, peeking at the red roses and pretty yellow dahlias, and wondered how Eden had managed to organise such a thing in a country as chaotic as Thailand. Amazing. Beautiful. Generous.

She had nowhere to put them, but there was a little rock pool on the path. They would have to take their chances there or else be wilted by morning. She propped them in the clear water amidst moss-covered rocks, fussing with them like a mourner at a grave.

'Some fucker will nick them by the morning,' she thought, with a shrug.

Hannah unlocked the door to her cabin, dropped her bag, and carefully perched the card on the solitary table. She suddenly felt exhausted, her energy expended by her tears.

Setting a timer on her phone, she collapsed onto the bed, pulling a pillow between her legs for comfort, and tried to imagine she could still find Eden's scent in the bedclothes.

She was asleep before her phone's screen faded into black.

* * * *

The heat of the day had passed when Hannah stirred. She'd slept for an hour and lay blinking at the thatched roof, regretting she allowed herself too long a nap because she felt thick-headed. She opened the door onto her feelings to find them quieted now the squall had passed. Relieved, she rolled herself upright and remembered Charlie with a smile.

Cheeky Charlie. She brightened at the thought and stretched herself free of sleep.

Dining on a beach was a cinch, she reflected. She only had to find a fresh sarong and shake the sand from her bikini top and she was done. Pulling the door closed, she followed the twinkle of candles down to the beach.

Charlie saw her before she reached the bar, and with a showman like wave, gestured to a table a few yards away.

"Hannah! I'm so glad you came. If you take away nothing else this evening, it'll be a free meal -- it's on the house."

Charlie guided her to a chair without any pretentious chivalry, which would have made her uncomfortable.

"Darling, I'll be right with you, I need to let my staff know I'm stepping out. Sorry, I presumed -- will you be staying to eat?"

Hannah nodded and browsed the menu he offered until he returned.

"So what's good Charlie? Tell me what's fresh. I'm pescatarian."

"I'm agnostic myself, but I respect your faith. Good to put it out there from the get go, Hannah. White?" asked Charlie, cradling a bottle like a baby, smirking at his own joke.

Hannah suppressed a smile, raised an eyebrow and gestured for him to sit.

"I can see this is going to be a long night, Charlie. Can we leave our puns at the door?"

"We have an open door policy at the Cabanna, because...." He made a show of looking about. "No doors."

"You're a twit, but a clever one. Charlie. Can we make a promise before we start?" Hannah asked, covering her still empty glass as he reached across with the bottle.

Charlie recognised the tone of her voice and sat back in his chair, indicating to her to carry on. Hannah found herself suddenly bashful.

"Well... it's just...I don't normally..." she began.

"Hannah, I'm sorry, I've made you feel awkward. May I take a stab at what I think you were about to say?"

Hannah nodded 'okay' but looked down to avoid his eyes.

"Lets put it in third person. If I had a daughter and she went off to a foreign country on her own, I'd bore her stupid with advice about personal security, keeping herself safe and not trusting people, especially English men who one might think could be relied on in a foreign place. Especially attractive older men." Charlie poked his finger at her in a parental fashion.

"Especially older men who run bars!" Hannah teased back, emphasising each word by jabbing her finger on the table. They both laughed, but she was relieved he'd recognised the issue without causing offence.

"Seriously though, Charlie. I have more that one friend who've had their drink spiked."

"Hannah, it's a problem here too. Mostly people get robbed, but... well... I've no need to lecture you."

"I'm sorry, Charlie. I sound like a Debbie Downer kicking off with that kind of topic. I'll have that glass of Grigio now, if I may."

"Of course." Charlie poured her glass. "And don't apologise, Hannah. I admire your honesty and you already sound like my sort of person. Younger maybe, but you were reading Blind Assassin, weren't you? I do like someone who brings a bit of culture to the beach front -- it keeps it classy. Shall I order supper for both of us?"

"Please, yes. Thank you, Charlie. I love any Thai so long as it's not too hot."

They chatted comfortably in each other's company under the canopy of banyan trees, lit with tangles of fairy lights, their hanging roots drooping like candle wax to the sand, where busy hermit crabs snatched food like angry old men.

Music drifted across the bay from a club that promised 'Peace Joy and Vibes' in garish neon that glittered on the limpid lazy waves. Closer at hand, occasional shrieks of laughter punctuated the gentle hum of conversation on the beach. The day was yawning to a sleepy close.

Charlie charmed her with stories, made her laugh with anecdotes, but mostly he made her feel special, and he washed away the disappointment of losing Eden. Sizzling seafood arrived, deliciously spiced with ginger and lime.

They polished off their supper but declined dessert, then toasted 'absent friends'.

"You mustn't let your friend leaving ruin your holiday," he ventured, topping up her glass.

"You're right." She brightened. "What do you suggest?"

"A mosquito-free house with a guest room. Those beach huts are notorious." Charlie nodded over his shoulder. "No funny business, seriously. I'm enjoying your company -- is that so strange? Tell the dive centre where you're going, for safety. Be sensible."

"I'm not sure I want to be sensible, Charlie," Hannah thought aloud, sharing a glance with him.

Charlie raised his glass to her, but furrowed his brow sceptically.

"Well, I'd prefer to be sensible, Hannah. Pancakes for breakfast?"

"Promise to remember my name in the morning?"

"How could I forget it, Jess? Come on, I insist on you leaving word with Splash Dive and you can collect your toothbrush on the way. My place is only a short walk."

* * * *

They walked side by side, matching each other's stride up a dusty track away from the beach in silence, though it was noisy inside Hannah's head. She had something she needed to say but was stuck for how to put it. The more she struggled, the more the words became stuck.

Charlie glanced across and must have noticed how pre-occupied she had become, but decided against speaking, so their leisurely pace was broken only by the crunch of gravel under their feet.