Four years ago my ex-wife came back from the country. Her entire family was with her. She checked my phone without finding any strange numbers on my phone, since I had deleted all the messages from Mint. She were ‘friends’ and Mint wouldn’t call until my ex-wife returned to Ban-Nok.

I played good man or poo-chai di and stayed with my daughter, although I caught my ex-wife on the phone with a man. He was the same one from before and I was glad she had someone, so she didn’t have to have me.

Every night I drank 3-4 big bottles of Leo beers, instead the usual onslaught of 10-12 Changs at the Buffalo Bar. Sleep came around 10ish with a book steering me in the direction of Nodville.

My little compound near 3rd Road had two houses separated by an open-air garage. The larger had two bedrooms, kitchen, and TV room, in which my ex-wife, mother, nephew, sister, my daughter and niece watched a never-ending supply of Thai Soaps.

I wrote and listened to punk music in my office.

The twains met when the mobile food carts beeped their horn and my loving daughter ran to my desk with an outstretched hand.

“Twenty baht please.”

My ex-wife asked for a hundred. Her family ate like they were expecting a famine, so I keep lots of small bills in my ATM dispenser i.e. wallet.

One night the Jam were playing on the stereo Nick given me before his dreaded return to the UK. The family was mesmerized by the bootleg version of HARRY POTTER in Thai. The phone rang in my pocket. I answered without hesitation, thinking it was Mint. We hadn’t spoken in a day.

“Hello tee-lat.” It was Ort.

Several of the dancers at the Paris A Go-Go said that Ort was in Singapore servicing Chinese businessmen. I had offered a silent prayer for her good luck and thanked the stars she was gone. The go-go vixen liked sex, especially if she was on Ice.

“Where are you?” I cupped my hand over my mouth. My ex-wife has big ears.

“I’m in Pattaya. you have time for me. I have Ice.”

Ice and sex were a 21st Century formula for disaster. Meth didn’t affect me, but I liked the ritual. At heart I was a Catholic schoolboy, but Ort was nothing, but trouble, however the temptation or gann-lor of avenging my ex-wife’s leaving me for her Thai boyfriend ran strong. She thought that I didn’t know about it. I was not as big a buffalo or kwaii as I looked in her eyes, except my mother had warned that if I saw trouble coming than I should walk the other way.

For once I was heeding her advice.

“No, I’m with my ex-wife.”

“Can’t you come see me. I want you to play my master.” Ort was a masochist. She didn’t know why other than to say that she liked it rough.

“Sorry, I don’t have any money.” Feeding my ex-wife’s relatives had sapped by ‘fun’ funds.

“Not problem. I have money. Have Ice. I want you. Not have to have sex. Can only talk.”

“Talk?” The devil was trying to buy my soul for a free night of sex with a tramp and I leaned back in my chair.

Across the drive my daughter was bouncing on the sofa. Nobody would miss me for an hour or two. Least of all my ex-wife.

“I talk to you and you talk to me.” Ort’s 3rd language was 69.

The DVD of her plans played within my brain at 32 times the speed of light. She would smoke her pipe and then mount me cowboy-reverse, telling me not to move until she finished with brown eyes rolling into her skull. I was getting hard as a 40 year-old on Viagra, which was good for a 55 year-old.

“C’mon, you know you want it.”

“orry, I can’t, my ex-wife is coming. Bye.” It wasn’t the truth. I was faithful to Mint. She was my one true love.

I shut off my phone and went over to the TV room.

My ex-wife looked at me with a smile. She knew that her presence was unwanted, but also that she had the power to refuse me the right to see my daughter. My ex-wife was cruel.

“Good movie.” If it weren’t for my daughter, I’d have left my ex-wife 5 years ago.

“Okay. You watch with us.”

“Why not?”

It wasn’t like I had a choice. Trouble was where you found it. I sat on the couch and my daughter joined me to watch SID AND NANCY. My ex-wife hated the movie. She hated all things farang.

Not my daughter.

She was happy to lay her head on my shoulder.

And so was I, since it was better than any other gaan-lor in this world.