the woman of easy virtue | kor surangkhanang by marcel barang

the woman of easy virtue KOR SURANGKHANANG

the woman of easy virtue TRANSLATED FROM THE THAI BY MARCEL BARANG

1 The beam of light of a huge lamp came dazzling forth from a distance. Behind it, at first, one could only see a dark shadow with sparks shooting up into the darkness like tiny fireworks, until it became apparent to the eye that it was a locomotive pulling a long row of carriages. The clatter of iron wheels against the rails and of pistons at work reverberated from afar. The stoker blew the whistle as a signal and gradually reduced the power of the engine. Soft light briefly swept over a sign that read ‘Hua Hin’ and soon the train came to a stop along the platform. There was a buzz of conversation in all the carriages that were lit. Some passengers poked their drowsy heads out of the windows. Travellers embarking at the station were preparing to board; those about to get off, laden with cumbersome parcels, watched their front and rear. Twenty-one hundred hours was the arrival time of the Bangkok–Padang Besar express and it triggered quite a commotion. A young man of medium height and slender build, clad in a noticeably rather out-of-date travel suit, attracted the attention of several of the passengers leaning out of the windows, because when he mounted the steps of a second-class carriage, he turned and reached out to a uniformed employee of the Hua Hin Hotel who promptTHE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

4 ly passed him a smallish travel bag. Some even smiled to themselves when they saw the bellboy bow his head and grin as he held out his hand to receive the valuable piece of paper the man tipped him with. As the train moved out of the station, the young man carrying his travel bag opened the glass door and went inside. By the light of the ceiling lamp the two or three passengers still awake who sat facing the carriage door could see his swarthy face clearly. From his looks and bearing, plus the fact that he had a hotel employee accompany him and had given him a tip, they jumped to the conclusion that he was rather well off. His broad face showed that he was good-humoured, but his rather nervous manner, ah, that told that he had been away from city life for a couple of years or longer. The shaking of the train as it gathered speed along the straight track made him hold his bag awkwardly and he muttered excuses as he jostled his way along to an empty seat almost at the far end of the carriage. He dropped his bag, thrust it under the seat and heaved a sigh of relief. He pulled a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket and wiped the sweat on his brow and cheeks, beneath his nose and round his neck, and then stuffed it into his trouser pocket and looked around at his fellow travellers, starting with the man in front of him, a fat Chinese with the looks of a trader. Even though he was sitting up, his eyes were tightly shut and he even seemed to be snoring softly. The young man screwed up his face and KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

5 turned to his right. Two Indians with unkempt moustaches were jabbering away in a language he didn’t understand. Fancying that he could smell butter, he raised his hand and rubbed his nose as he turned round to take a look at his last hope for company. Catching sight of green cloth, he knew at once that it was a soldier. He saw three shiny stars on the man’s shoulder and neatly combed hair on his head bent over in a reading posture. Turning back again, he felt rather pleased that the fellow traveller behind him was an army captain. But then a thought struck him: he had seen this officer before. He sat holding his head in his hands, frowning as if deep in thought, and then impulsively turned round once again, leaning so much that his sudden shadow startled the captain. The officer looked up from the newspaper and as their eyes chanced to meet, they both cried out simultaneously. ‘Charn!’ ‘Damrong!’ ‘Hey! Is that you?’ ‘So it’s you, you rascal!’ On a long overnight journey, a familiar face is always welcome, especially if it turns out to be that of someone one knows well enough to greet with this sort of words. So pleased was the young civilian that he almost jumped over the seat. The captain threw his newspaper aside and stood up hurriedly, shouting something incomprehensible. It was only after the two of them had clasped THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

6 hands heartily that they regained their composure. As they did so, they became aware of the two Indians eyeing them with annoyance and bafflement and of the Chinese fellow’s equally thoroughly disconcerted face. Captain Charn puckered his lips in warning and whispered, ‘Hey, Damrong, I’m so glad to see you I’m forgetting myself. I thought this was a beer hall, not a train.’ Damrong looked over his shoulder and smiled as he let himself drop back onto his seat. ‘The beer hall where we met four or five years ago,’ he said, then looked up thoughtfully. ‘How many years was it actually? Four years? Four, that’s right. I say, where are you off to?’ Imposing chest, strong shoulders, full face: his friend had hardly changed. ‘I’ve got fifteen days’ official leave. I thought I’d go back home to see my mother for once.’ People overhearing this might not understand where Captain Charn hailed from, but Damrong knew, because he and Charn had been at school together and he had often teased his friend by putting on a southern accent. ‘How about you? I keep hearing you’re wheeling and dealing in Songkhla. So what are you mucking about here for? You got on at Hua Hin, didn’t you?’ Damrong nodded. ‘Yep. I took a few days off before going back to the grind,’ he said with a tough look on his face, but a second later changed the subject. ‘How are things in Bangkok? Are unattached young ladies still unattached, or have they all been snapped up by now?’ KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

7 ‘Some have become “Mrs” but not many. These days they aren’t as eager to take the plunge as when you were there.’ Charn laughed as he took out a cigarette from his box and slipped it between his lips. He reached into his trouser pocket but had to desist, as Damrong was quicker, holding out a match from his jacket pocket, still a bit fuddled. ‘Uh, that’s strange. I’d only heard the fashion in clothes had changed. I hadn’t realized that sort of thing would change too. Surely you don’t mean nobody’s got married, not even Choamchai, Niramon or Ladda?’ ‘Apparently only Niramon has volunteered to tie the knot. No one else.’ Charn stopped to light the cigarette and toss the used match out of the window. ‘Why should they, when it comes to the same thing whether you’re a Miss or a Mrs? Misses have the edge, though, because some foolish young man or other will always come along and fall for you.’ ‘That’s true. I hadn’t fully understood what you said,’ Damrong admitted. ‘I’m turning into a hermit. The mere mention of society news makes me feel queasy.’ He screwed up his face as he spoke. The captain burst out laughing in delight. ‘Feeling queasy there are two kinds: feeling queasy because you’ve been starving too long is one and feeling queasy because you’ve eaten too much is the other. Which is it in your case?’ The teased man smiled sheepishly. ‘Probably the latter. What about you, though? Back then, you were involved THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

8 with the elder sister of that good-looking lad. Eh, what was his name? I can’t remember. What was his name, the lad whose sister you were keen on? With that shrewd face and rather cheeky manners. You had to practically empty your wallet before you could get him to convey one of your love letters.’ Charn allowed Damrong to finish reminiscing then said with a poker face, ‘Wit – that’s the fellow you’re talking about. These days he officiates as uncle to my children.’ ‘Is that so?’ Damrong exclaimed, looking excited. When he saw Charn’s expression indicating it was true, his excitement gave way to pleasure. ‘Let’s shake on it, my friend. A moment’s inattention and here you are, a father. If I don’t feel old now, when will I? How many children have you got?’ Charn raised his index and middle fingers for an answer. ‘Uh, not bad!’ Damrong grunted. They were both silent for a moment. Damrong suddenly rose and told Charn he was going to the buffet car to order drinks. He was back some fifteen minutes later, followed by a steward carrying a tray with two glasses of whisky and a bottle of soda. The steward placed the tray down carefully, removed the cap from the soda bottle and then left. Damrong poured soda into a glass of whisky, which he handed to Charn, and filled the other for himself. ‘It’s to stop me feeling drowsy. Whenever I’m on a train I can’t sleep anyway. How about you?’ KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

9 The captain nodded to show it was the same for him, raised his glass, took a sip and put it down. He pointed at a pile of books placed on the next seat. ‘I have to lug almost ten books about with me.’ Just then, the train was whooshing past a small station. Damrong poked his head out to take a look and then pulled back, as if he had just thought of something he meant to say. ‘How is your children’s uncle these days?’ he asked. ‘He must be a young man by now. When you were a lieutenant, I think he was in eighth form. He was quite something, you know, that kid.’ ‘Whatever it is,’ Charn said, ‘Old Wit’s just like we were at that age, y’ know, only a thousand times better, because children these days are brighter than we were. They are smarter than us in every way. They don’t have to earn a living. Their fortunes are only on the up and up. Now he’s become a favourite of the girls. He’s quite something, as you said. Everybody likes him. Conversation, knowledge, you name it, he’s good at it. I couldn’t compete with him. Luang∗ Phaisarn, who used to have quite a reputation in society, seems to have drowned at sea, for all I know, because he couldn’t hold a candle to Wit.’ ‘He’s that good, is he?’ Damrong said in wonder. ‘Eh, he sure must be good: Luang Phaisarn, there was no one to match him back then as a sportsman and smooth talker. And he was doing all right with the ladies as well.’ ∗ Low-level nobility title THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

10 ‘When it comes to the ladies,’ Charn interrupted, ‘Wit isn’t bad either, but he’s damn weird. Nice women he doesn’t like, he goes after loose women. His sister told me in confidence he went to her on the quiet to ask for her help in bringing a trollop to live in his home.’ ‘Golly! And did your wife help him?’ This was getting interesting. Damrong drew closer and pricked up his ears. ‘Who the hell’s going to help? No matter how much you’re made to feel pity and sympathy, you just can’t. Jaokhun∗ Aditheip’s family is an old blue-blood family, and my mother-in-law’s even more so. Hoy! You can’t even speak in a loud voice; sooo common!’ Charn dragged out the word. ‘So how could they accept a trollop in the house as a daughter-in-law? Merely knowing her son goes to the brothel every so often has sent her into fainting fits; they couldn’t get the doctor over fast enough.’ ‘Does your mother-in-law know her son has fallen for a loose woman?’ Damrong asked. ‘At first she didn’t. She was looking for a wealthy daughter-in-law, but Wit didn’t like the girl his mother found for him. He was put under so much pressure he took to drinking and whoring, and it wasn’t long before there was trouble. There was such a row that I couldn’t face it, because Wit was foolish enough to tell his mother ∗ Term of address for a phraya (marquess) KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

11 he was in love with a prostitute, he’d gone to see her many times and he was thinking of bringing her home to live with him. Strange, isn’t it? Nice girls with plenty of money he doesn’t fancy, he runs off and falls head over heels in love with a strumpet. Now he’s on a short leash. Wherever he goes, there has to be someone keeping an eye on him. My mother-in-law is afraid he’ll be off to the brothel.’ ‘Why try to hold him back? It’s a waste of time. If he can’t go there, he’ll go somewhere else,’ Damrong remarked sympathetically. ‘If he can’t make it today, there’s still tomorrow and the day after and the days after that. Can you keep a man penned as you do girls?’ ‘Right.’ Charn nodded. ‘That’s what I think too, so I talked to my mother-in-law and explained to her that tying down a young man of Wit’s age wouldn’t do any good. On the contrary it’d make him take off at the first opportunity. Siding with him, going easy on him might work out better, and besides it’s just not done to tie a man down like this. Let him be responsible for his own life, so that he learns what’s good and what isn’t. Everything in life is an education. His going to prostitutes is a lesson too.’ ‘Indeed, quite so,’ Damrong approved. ‘Did your mother-in-law see it that way too?’ ‘Huh!’ Charn shook his head wearily. ‘Not a chance, old fellow. She boiled it down instead to my being on Wit’s side and perhaps being the one who’d taken him out and shown him the ropes.’ THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

12 ‘There you are!’ Damrong laughed, amused. ‘You must have protested your innocence till you were blue in the face.’ ‘“Mother,” I said, “this sort of thing, you don’t need to be taught. It’s just something you know for yourself and see for yourself all on your own if you are a man.” Isn’t that so, old chap? Did anyone teach us? No one. It was all on our own. And not only us. Lots of monks who’ve reached ninth or tenth grade tire of the yellow robes and leave the monkhood. Who teaches them? Some of them have studied the dharma ever since they became novices and don’t even know the meaning of the word “woman”. But as soon as they get a whiff, they – oh, better say no more.’ ‘You’re looking down on religion,’ Damrong protested mildly. ‘No,’ Charn countered. ‘I’m not looking down on religion. Religion is one thing, people are another. Religion is something good, something pure and unstained. Religion is a pillar for people to hold on to, but it’s the people that can be good or bad. If they aren’t bad today, they might be so tomorrow, who knows.’ He spread his hands and shrugged his shoulders as he spoke. ‘Lust occurs in people, not in religion. Can you be so sure that your venerable monks have transcended their senses of form, taste, smell, hearing and touch for keeps? If that were the case, my friend, all temples would be full of genuine monks. There wouldn’t be monks reporting to KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

13 the authorities that their quarters had been broken into and their alms bowls pilfered. There wouldn’t be monks surrounded with flocks of female devotees both young and old. To take an example: that Maha∗ at the temple next to your house, what’s his name? Girls like to go and ask him to read their fortunes.’ ‘Maha Heng, you mean?’ ‘Yep, that’s the one. He’s nothing but a fortune-teller. He’ll ask your date of birth and then predict your life partner. He sits there cross-legged in a disgusting way, wagging his toes, flicking his brows and winking and making bedroom eyes.’ Charn shrugged. ‘Enough, enough. You’re too negative. Those who hold that all monks follow the precepts faithfully would be cursing you if they could hear you,’ Damrong cautioned, casting uneasy looks all around. ‘It’s true, though.’ The captain chuckled, got up and stretched to ease his stiffness. ‘I’m not disputing the truth of what you’re saying, but truth can cause offence these days. Let’s drop the subject of religion. I’m still intrigued by what you were saying about Wit, that your mother-in-law had to have someone watch his every step and he couldn’t go anywhere. So what happened next?’ Damrong asked as he raised his glass to take a last sip. ‘You’re like a child begging for a story,’ Charn said. ∗ ‘Great’, title given to a learned monk THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

14 ‘Why do you ask about Wit being under watch? Frankly, I think that what my mother-in-law is doing is pointless. And why is that?’ He raised his hand and pointed an insistent finger at Damrong, stressing the words as he spoke. ‘Because people have an instinct to roam. You don’t have to limit their reach, at whatever age. Therefore there’s nothing strange in Wit going out and about. The only odd thing is the places he goes to.’ He ended his words with a laugh, not a laugh of amusement but a laugh that suggested deep insight into the human mind. The sound of it blended into the clatter of the iron wheels that resounded at regular intervals.

At this point the reader might think the army captain or may be his young friend is to become the protagonist of this story. Not so. Both men share a link with a third man who, even as his praises were being sung, was stepping out of a cab. In the pouring rain it had pulled up at the entrance to a blind alley in the Praeng Sanpasat area of Bangkok. The man took out a one-baht note, handed it to the driver, and then walked briskly through the rain past a Chinese grocery shop and into the darkness, without a backward glance at the car which had delivered him and was now moving out of sight.

KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

2 He stepped over a puddle in the middle of the street, going in such a hurry that he rather ran than walked. Wrapped up in a dark grey raincoat, he made his way to the fence of a two-storey house painted light blue and rather old, pulled his raincoat closer to his chest with his left hand as he reached it, and then looked up at a window which was wide open. His sharp features were clearly visible by the light from the window. Drops of the drizzling rain still clung to his cheeks and thin lips. Despite his slender physique, he had the appearance of a man at once strong and gentle. He could hear people talking inside but they couldn’t hear him as the rain falling on the eaves drowned the sound of his banging at the gate. He banged again, harder than before, until his hand hurt. Only then did he see the old bamboo blind at the front of the upstairs veranda being parted by the hand of a girl in a loose red camisole and a riot of hair. She leaned out and yelled, ‘Who’s that knocking?’ ‘It’s me,’ he shouted back, his hands cupped around his mouth. ‘Open up quickly. I’m getting drenched.’ The gateway where the young man was standing wasn’t dark to the point of seeing nothing. The dim light from across the street was sufficient for the girl to make THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

16 out that it was someone who had often been here, but to be sure she yelled out again above the noise of the rain, ‘Who’s “me”? Mr Wit, is it?’ ‘Yes,’ he shouted back impatiently. ‘I reckon you think it’s fine standing out here in the pouring rain. Get someone to come and open the gate.’ The girl answered with a shrill laugh, took her hand away from the blind and went back inside. After a moment there was the sound of the door being opened downstairs. A boy of about thirteen in black school shorts and a white T-shirt ran out into the rain to unbolt the gate for him. The young man stretched out his hand and gave the child a friendly pat on the head as he murmured his thanks and then stepped around him and went up the front steps. He took off his black leather shoes, which were soaking wet and covered with mud, and placed them out of sight by the veranda wall. Then he walked into the room on the right which had been arranged for receiving guests. There were wicker chairs, neither old nor new, around a rattan table covered with a white tablecloth bearing a glass jug of cold water and a few glasses. In the porcelain ashtray were several stubs, one of them still smouldering, obviously just discarded. On one side of the room there was a rattan sofa, large enough to sit two or three, and on the opposite side a dressing table, complete with a comb, a tin of talcum powder and a bottle of Thai scented water. As soon as she saw who it was, the middle-aged KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

17 woman sitting in the adjoining room greeted him effusively. She was about forty-seven, fat and rough-skinned, and was wearing a red floral sarong and a creamcoloured breast cloth. ‘My goodness, I wondered who it could be. I didn’t realize it was you. ’Win shouted at the boy to open the gate, but when I asked who it was, I didn’t catch what she said. Come on in, make yourself at home.’ The room were she was had no furniture except the mat on which she sat chewing betel. Hung up untidily on a wall were girls’ camisoles and a boy’s shirts. He smiled when he heard her greeting, tossed his hat onto the sofa, took off his raincoat and shook it vigorously, spread it out on a chair, looked down at his French silk jacket and black silk trousers and saw that they were slightly wet. Then he went into the room where the madam invited him to sit on the mat in front of her. Having done so, he asked, ‘So, Auntie, how are you doing?’ ‘Oh, I can’t complain. How about you? We haven’t seen you round lately. You haven’t shown up in days.’ She brought out the betel tray. ‘Do take your jacket off. As if you’d never been here before.’ Wit laughed dryly, offering his excuses as he unbuttoned his jacket. ‘There’s been a merit-making ceremony at home, so I couldn’t get away. Well, I could have, but it wouldn’t have looked good, would it, Auntie?’ ‘Toi!’ She turned to call her son, the same boy who had THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

18 ran out to open the gate for Wit and who was now sitting reading a book on a chair in the guest room. ‘Come and hang the gentleman’s jacket up. Here, give it to the boy.’ ‘Don’t bother, Auntie. No need to get up.’ The young man raised a hand in protest as he saw the boy about to close his book and stand up. ‘Stay where you are, young man; keep reading. I can hang it up myself.’ He got up and went and hung his jacket up on the wall and then walked over to where the boy sat reading. Patting him on the head again, he asked kindly: ‘What are you reading, young man?’ The boy looked up and answered: ‘An English textbook.’ Just then his mother stood up, adjusted her breast cloth and joined them. As she stood there with them, her face was full of pride that her son knew English, could even read English. Wit held out his hand and asked to see the book, which the boy handed promptly. ‘You’re on this one already, are you, young man? Mm. Jolly good. Jolly good.’ His praise was sincere: the book he was holding was a fifthor sixth-grade textbook; the boy was a little over thirteen; if he was able to learn at that level, he was certainly no fool. ‘Your son isn’t bad, you know, Auntie. Do all you can for him. And you, young man,’ he added, patting him encouragingly on the shoulder two or three times, ‘give your studies all you’ve got. Mm?’ ‘He’s bright, has been since he was small. I’d like him KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

19 to finish eighth grade so he can be a teacher. He doesn’t like it. He’d like to be a law doctor, a lawyer. I suppose I’ll have to let him. He’s my only son, after all. If it were a daughter, it wouldn’t matter.’ As his mother praised him, the boy looked up and stared rather shyly. Wit stole a clear glance at his face. What Aunt Tart, the owner of the premises, was saying made an immediate impression upon him. Whoever that Aunt Tart woman was and whatever her occupation, when it came to her son, she loved him and indeed wanted him to study in the hope that he might become a teacher or a lawyer. Since Toi, her son, had turned out to be so bright, and well mannered as well, in the future he might be a teacher passing on knowledge to the country’s citizens in their dozens or an eminent lawyer or even a top royal monk if his thoughts turned that way. And who knows just how many of the famous, the just and the learned, among whom Toi her son would one day be numbered, had built their lives of virtue on the money dearly won from the toil and sweat of those who performed despicable and accursed deeds and who were virtually shunned by society? As for Aunt Tart, it was obvious that she loved her son and wanted him to do well but when it came to other people’s children whom she had depraved and rigged into playthings for men, there was no question of kindness or compassion from her whatsoever. Her aim was money, the money that those poor girls had to earn for her so that she could THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

20 bring up her son and pay for his schooling. But why should he criticise Aunt Tart, when that was the kind of person she was? So Wit, who had been standing in silence for some time, looked around and pretended to complain loudly. ‘Eh, where have all your girls gone to? Have they got visitors upstairs or what? I’ve been here for ages and haven’t seen a single one show up.’ ‘They’re upstairs. I think only ’Win’s got a visitor.’ Aunt Tart took her sluggish body into the room where the staircase was and yelled without restraint: ‘Serm! ’Mai! ’Laem! ’Morn! Ruen! Where the blazes are you all? We’ve had a guest here all this time and you don’t come down?’ Then she came back breathless and sat down with a flop. ‘You see, that’s the way it is. Distressing, isn’t it.’ She turned to her son. ‘Little one, take your book and go and read in the other room.’ ‘It looks like things are rather quiet at the moment,’ the young man said. His ears caught the sound of giggling as the girls tramped down the stairs. ‘It’s the end of the month, you know,’ Aunt Tart said. ‘Ah, they’re down now. But what are they loitering there for? Oh, they’re too much, this lot. Always putting on airs. It’s good it’s you, you know: other men would be bored to death.’ She turned and beckoned to the girls huddling to compete for a peek from behind the doorway curtain. Wit laughed good-humouredly. He peered openly through the curtain to seek the face of the only girl he KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

21 wanted to meet. ‘Come on out, then. Come on out and let’s have some fun together. I’m not exactly a stranger, you know. I’ve been up and down this way so many times the road is a canyon by now.’ ‘Look at ’m! What a disgrace!’ the madam exclaimed scathingly. ‘Come on out, ’Mai. It’s you who’s behind all this. What are you all whispering about, ha?’ ’Mai or Lamai came out first, smiling, followed by Prasert, Chalaem and Samorn, all of them beautifully dressed, their faces powdered alabaster white, filling the room with sundry heady perfumes. The more they looked at the young man, the more they giggled. ‘What’s so funny about me?’ Wit asked. In the row of beautiful girls now crowding round him, one person was missing, and that was the one he yearned to see. ‘You really want to know?’ Lamai asked, craning towards him. She was quite a sight for sore eyes, that one, dressed all in red, especially her jacket of thin silk with a plunging neckline which revealed a loose undergarment. ‘If you do, you must give us a little something.’ ‘Eh? Lamai is trying her hand at shakedown, isn’t she now, Chalaem?’ Wit said, playing dumb, as he grasped the upper arm of the girl sitting on the arm of his chair. Chalaem smiled sweetly. ‘Won’t you let yourself be shaken down just for practice?’ She had a rather plump figure and had clearly applied a thick layer of powder to conceal the pallor of her face. Her hair was cut short in the style of musical comedy leading actors. THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

22 Before Wit had time to answer, another girl thrust her head forward and said in mock anger, ‘You say we’re going to cheat you, so we’d better not tell you what it is we’re laughing about. Actually, you’re dying to know.’ ‘All right, let’s hear it,’ Wit said firmly. ‘Tell me how much you want each.’ ‘Oh, that’s up to you. How can you expect us to make the rules? You’re always so kind, you’d never shortchange us,’ Chalaem flattered. ‘If you say I’m kind, I won’t give you a thing,’ Wit retorted. In front of those girls, he was pretending to be in high spirits and easy-going, but inside he was restless and felt he was wasting his time joking about with girls he had no wish to see, while he stole frequent glances in the direction of the door hidden behind the flowerpatterned curtain. Everyone began to protest so noisily that Samorn, who appeared to be older than the others, raised her hand and shushed them. ‘Well now, let’s have some quiet here. How about this? We’ll make a new deal with Mr Wit.’ ‘What kind of a deal? What kind of a deal?’ the other girls chorused. ‘Let’s agree that if Mr Wit likes what we say, then we’ll ask for a reward,’ she explained, eyeing Wit flirtatiously. Feeling that he was beginning to enjoy himself, the young man asked, ‘How will you know whether or not I like what you say?’ KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

23 ‘Oh, that’s easy as pie. If you like it, you’ll laugh.’ She laughed heartily. ‘Is it a deal?’ ‘Wait a minute. If I keep a straight face, it means you all lose, right? Then how much is each of you going to give me?’ Wit asked, looking round. ‘Hey? Where’s Auntie gone? I need a witness.’ ‘Come now, we’re all good sport here. If you win, we’ll let you do what you want to us,’ Prasert proclaimed, forcing acquiescence. ‘He’s not biting any longer,’ one of the girls said. ‘Me, I’d be willing to let you give me three extra knocks on the head for luck.’ ‘Say it, then. Whoever is going to say it, come out with it and get ready for a knock on the head too. This’ll do for a nice, loud sound,’ Wit said as he reached out and grabbed one of the girls by the head and drummed his knuckles hard on it. ‘Listen, then, I’ll tell you myself,’ Lamai, who had started the whole thing, said. Her vermilion-painted lips were almost touching Wit’s cheek. ‘We didn’t want to come out and disturb you, Mr Wit, because we know you don’t want to see us. It’s Ruen you’ve come to see, isn’t it?’ No sooner had she finished than laughter was heard. ‘Mr Wit loses! Mr Wit loses!’ He had never thought that anything those girls might say would please him to the point of making him smile broadly. ‘All right, I lose. Whoever wants it can go and get it from my jacket over there.’ Right away, Prasert got THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

24 up and darted out to fetch him his wallet. He opened it and handed her a five-baht note. ‘Split it between you,’ he said, then, lowering his voice, ‘and please tell Ruen to come down too.’ While he was saying this, the girl he wished to see was standing out of sight at the top of the stairs, reluctant to go down to see him. Her heart pounded as she heard Wit’s voice echoing up the stairway. A powerful feeling of some kind held her back, a mere shadow at the top of the stairs. It was a feeling she herself didn’t fully understand. ‘Just now she came down with us,’ Samorn told him. ‘I don’t know why she went back up as soon as she realized it was you. These days she keeps to herself, she won’t go with any customers. She just sits around looking depressed.’ ‘Who’s depressed, Samorn?’ Aunt Tart, who had just come back into the room, asked, wondering what they were talking about. ‘Ruen, Auntie. She’s refused to go with anyone for many nights, you know. She keeps complaining of aches and pains.’ ‘What’s the matter with her? Hasn’t she come down, then?’ Aunt Tart looked round for her. ‘Where is she hiding herself now? Every time I tell her it’s Mr Wit to see her, she looks as pleased as Punch, you know. And she’s your favourite all right.’ She grumbled as was her habit but she didn’t dare be too hard on Ruen because she knew the girl was Wit’s favourite, and Wit was a KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE

25 young man with enough money to pay handsomely every time he came to her establishment. ‘She’s lovely, you know, except that she’s a bit unsophisticated, a bit of a country girl.’ ‘Nothing wrong with being unsophisticated, Auntie,’ Wit said. ‘I like people like that.’ ‘Yeah,’ she drawled. ‘It’s because you like her that she plays hard to get. When anyone else comes, she doesn’t want to see them.’ Wit laughed in sheer delight. What Aunt Tart said of Ruen’s behaviour immediately changed the expression on his face, but he kept the game up. ‘Who knows? Maybe she won’t have me either,’ he remarked casually. ‘Well now, if you want to know for sure, go upstairs and ask her for yourself. She’s in her room. Not that you don’t know the way,’ Aunt Tart said half seriously half in jest. ‘Oh, who’s that knocking at the gate again? ’Serm, run out and open up, on the double.’ Seizing the opportunity, Wit rose quickly and went through the adjoining room and up the stairs, then turned right and came in front of a room whose door was closed but not bolted. He slowly opened the door and stepped in. A girl stood with her back to the door, her face buried in her hands, silent and still in the dimness by the wall. Wit moved close to her and put his arms around her for her to turn round and face him as he called her in a soft yet firm whisper. ‘Ruen!’ THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE | KOR SURANGKHANANG

Kor Surangkhanang was the best‐known pen name of Kan‐ha Khiangsiri (1911‐1998) née Wanthanaphat. Proclaimed a Thai National Artist in 1986, she was the archetypal author of what later gen‐ erations have come to call ‘stagnant‐ water literature’. She wrote one hundred short stor‐ ies and nearly fifty novels – mostly escapist ro‐ mances – over a forty‐year period starting in 1936.

KOR SURANGKHANANG | THE WOMAN OF EASY VIRTUE