Let her travel alone. Perhaps shell be taken, and then shell learn, muttered her mother-in-law, her brow furrowed.
A sultry evening, just before the holiday, ought to have been filled with anticipation and the gentle bustle of last-minute preparations.
Yet, in Jonathan and Emilys flat, the atmosphere was thick with tension. In the centre of the sitting roomlike some monument to anxietystood Margaret Evans, clutching the television remote in her hand.
I absolutely forbid it! Have you lost your minds?! Her voice, so accustomed to lecturing classroom full of unruly children in her teaching days, rang out with authority.
The television screen displayed a frozen image from a sensational news programme: a solemn presenter gesturing to a map of Southeast Asia, painting out ominous red lines of danger.
Emily, calmly packing her suitcase despite the storm in the air, merely sighed.
She knew this routine all too well. Jonathan, his face a mask of weary patience, tried to interject.
Mum, thats enough. This is ridiculous! Were going to a proper hotel, on a package
Ridiculous?! Margaret threw up her hands, nearly sending the remote flying. Jonathan, knock some sense into her! Shell be the death of you! You do realise what goes on in Thailand? Every other person theres a people smuggler! Youll be sent out for a pint in some dodgy alley and never come back. Theyll cut out your kidneys, your liveranything they can getand whisk them away in an icebox! And as for her she declared, pointing dramatically at Emily, shell be sold into slavery, or end up in a brothel! I saw it myself on the telly!
Emily stopped folding clothes. She looked up at Margaret, a hint of surprise in her eyes, and held a quiet pause, the sort Jonathan never could have managed.
Mrs Evans, Emilys voice was soft but resolute, do you honestly believe this? That every Thais a gangster surgeon on the side and a pimp in their spare time?
Dont you dare mock me! These are FACTS! Its on the BBC! People go chasing after cheap exotic holidays and their poor families only get back their bits and pieces in a tin!
Jonathan massaged his forehead.
Mum, its scaremongering, made for pensioners who want a bit of excitement. They keep you on edge so youll keep watching. There are millions of tourists
And thousands disappear without a trace! Margaret countered. Emily, youve already bought the tickets, havent you? Not going to return them?
Yes, Ive bought them. And no, I wont give them back, Emily replied matter-of-factly. Weve saved up for this holiday for two years. Ive read every review, checked all the forums, booked with a reputable tour operator. Were not planning to roam around the shadiest parts of town at night. Well go on tours, sunbathe on Pattaya beach, have tom yum soup
Theyll poison you, Heaven knows whats in their stews, Margaret muttered darkly. Jonathan, darling, please be sensible. Let her travel alone if she must. She can take the risk, not you. At least youll stay alive and well. A mothers heart always senses danger.
A leaden silence fell across the room. And then Emily said the words that, perhaps, had built up for years.
Very well, she said, snapping shut her suitcase. Youre right, Mrs Evans. Risk is a noble thing. Ill travel alone.
Emily! Whatever are you saying? Jonathan was stunned.
You heard your mother. Her heart senses something dreadful. I wont take responsibility for your kidneys or your liver, and heaven help me if youre sold into slavery. Youll stay at home, have tea with your mum, and watch conspiracy programmes together. Ill go to the inferno by myself.
Margaret seemed speechlesshalf triumphant, half taken aback by her daughter-in-laws calm defiance.
Yes, well, she managed, a little deflated, you brought it on yourself.
Jonathan tried to protest, to reason, but Emily would not be moved. That final night, they lay in bed, silent, backs turned.
Perhaps youll change your mind? he ventured.
No, Emily answered shortly.
*****
When the plane landed in Bangkok, Emily was enveloped by the heavy, spicy warmthlike a blanket.
Fear? There was none. Only exhaustion, and a burning curiosity. She spent the first days according to plan, strolling the bustling, smiling streets, marvelling at the gleaming temples, savouring the delicious street food.
No one even tried to pickpocket herlet alone abduct her. The friendly market stallholders only smiled bashfully and attempted to haggle her down by ten baht.
She sent a group chat photo to Jonathan andat Margarets requestto Mrs Evans: Emily beaming with a fruit cocktail, the turquoise sea behind her. The caption: All organs accounted for. No job offers in slavery yet. Awaiting further developments.
Jonathan replied with hearts. Mrs Evans read and watched in silence.
Emily journeyed north to Chiang Mai, where, in a modest, family-run guesthouse, she met a woman named Noi, who taught her to make authentic pad thai.
Noiher English falteringturned out to be remarkably like Margaret Evans.
Noi fretted constantly for her own daughter, whod gone off to work in Seoul.
She is there, all alone. Its cold, no one smiles, food is odd, Noi lamented, tossing the noodles. I watch on television; they say theres radiation in the air and everyone is angry!
Emily saw the worry etched on Nois face and laughedreally laughed, until her eyes watered.
Noi looked at her, puzzled. So Emily, with gestures, pictures on her phone, and simple words, explained about Margaret Evans, the television fear-mongering about organs and brothels.
Noi listened, eyes wide, and then burst out laughing too, her voice tinkling like a bell.
Oh, mothers! she cried. Were alike everywhere. We fear what we do not know. Television in Thailand shows only nonsense too!
That evening, as they sat beneath the verandas stars, Emily called Mrs Evansnot Jonathanover video.
Margarets face looked tired and wary.
Well? Are you still alive? she asked bluntly.
Alive, and all organs intact, Mrs Evans. See?
Emily turned the camera to the verandahNoi came out with sweet tea and fruit, smiled brightly at the stern Englishwoman on the screen.
Hello! Noi called cheerfully. Your daughter-in-law is brilliant! Good cook! Dont worry, Ill watch out for her! No slavery here! She threw an arm around Emily, grinning.
Margaret said nothing. She looked from Nois smile to Emilys tanned, quiet face.
And the organs? she managed, now with less certainty.
All still here, Emily grinned. And Im eating splendidly, Mrs Evans. Its beautiful, and the people are wonderfully kind. Funny thingNois worried about her daughter in Korea. Shes convinced its dangerous and unfriendly therebecause television told her so.
A long silence followed.
Pass it here, Margaret suddenly said. To this Noi.
Emily handed over the phone. The two women, separated by thousands of miles and a world of difference, chatted for nearly ten minutes.
They understood little of each others wordsbut seemed to grasp the heart of it all. Noi laughed and nodded. At first Margaret frowned, but her face slowly softened.
At the calls end, her lips twitched in an awkward attempt at a smileno longer a mask of dread.
Soon after, Jonathan messaged: Mums just switched off the telly. Said, Had enough of this panic, and asked when youre coming home.
Emily didnt reply at once. She gazed up at the stars above Chiang Mai, then snapped another picture: her and Noi, laughing and hugging, and sent it to the group.
Caption: Found an ally at last. Flying a paraglider tomorrow. Organs still perfectly functional. Love.
The flight home felt easy. At the airport, Jonathan waited for her, and off to the side, clutching an absurdly bright bouquet of asters, stood Margaret.
She didnt rush to embrace her daughter-in-law, but neither did she start a scene. Clearing her throat, she handed the flowers over.
Soyoure alive, then?
As you see. Still unattached to any new owners
Well, then, Margaret muttered, waving a hand dismissively, youll have to tell me what it was like Hows your Noi doing?
On the drive home, Emily regaled them with tales of temples, food, the kindness of strangers, and all the quirks encountered along the way.
Margaret listened, every now and then asking a question or two. The lounge television remained silent.
In its dark reflection, three figures could be seen: a husband with his arms around his wife, and a mother-in-law finally trying to view the world not through the twisted lens of sensational news, but through the shining eyes of one whod returned from the very jaws of danger unscathedand, perhaps, happier than before.
Later, over a cup of tea, Margaret tentatively, as if testing the water, remarked:
Next year if you like maybe Ill come with youso long as its not anywhere too wild.
Jonathan and Emily exchanged glances and grinned. Margaret Evans, to their amazement, was looking at things with new eyes.
However, a few days later, she came charging in, flushed and agitated, announcing
I shant go with you anywhere! And as for you, Emily, you were just lucky! I saw on the news, only last week they rescued some people from the clutches of gangs. I would hate to end up like that!
As you wish, Emily shrugged.
Jonathan, youve no business gallivanting either. Theres plenty to see in England! Margaret declared, chin held high.
Jonathan shook his head but didnt argue, knowing well enough it was pointless.
