The Merry Misogynist

everything. Promise me you’ll stay here in the truck till it’s ready? ”
    She laughed. “Than, you really are a special man .”
    It was as if he couldn’t pretend any more. Urgency had taken him over .
    “ Do you promise? ”
    “ Yes, I promise .”
    He climbed from the cab and ran around to the flatbed. He used the metal stirrup as a step and clambered up. One feature of the old Jiefang army trucks was a fixed tool chest that could be locked. It was nestled up against the back of the cab and had the dimensions of a good-sized coffin. He took out his padlock key, unfastened the lid, and retrieved his holdall. There were other tools of his trade in the chest but this was all he needed for now. He jumped off the truck, called, “Don’t go anywhere,” and vanished into the undergrowth beside the road .
 
    Wei sat enjoying the buzz of the whisky and the silence and the thrill of being a wife. She’d imagined all the wonders the position might bring into her life. She couldn’t believe her luck. This was no ordinary man and this was an extraordinary day. He hadn’t really been himself this evening but who could be themselves on such an occasion? Goodness knows she hadn’t behaved naturally since she’d first met him.
    Ten minutes later her husband was back, running around the front of the truck. He waved at her through the windscreen and climbed into the driver’s seat. He seemed so happy.
    “I have to park off the road,” he said. “We don’t want to be disturbed.”
    She started to speak but her words were overwhelmed by the restarting of the engine. He didn’t put on the lights. He reversed across the road, bumped heavily into a bank of dirt behind them, then aimed at a small gap between an old dead tree and a younger version to its left. There hardly seemed enough room to get through. The side mirror grazed the dead trunk. Wei laughed. It was all part of her fairy-tale adventure. The truck forged through the thick undergrowth, leaves and twigs caressing the windows, branches twanging from the mirrors.
    A little way ahead, a pale aura of light beckoned them on. She leaned forward in her seat excitedly to get a better look. They arrived at a sandy clearing barely twice the length and breadth of the truck and he switched off the engine. At the centre of the clear patch of ground was a beautifully embroidered double quilt. It was surrounded by a ring of flat temple candles. Their flames were untroubled by the breeze. At the head of the forest marriage bed was a tray with a bottle of champagne and real champagne glasses and small snacks on a plate. To one side, pink ribbons were tied around a tree trunk.
    Wei looked at it all with her mouth open. She had never seen or imagined anything so beautiful. It was a scene from a mythical tale that perhaps she might tell her students: of handsome princes and poor country maids. A lump formed in her throat and tears began to flow from her eyes.
    “You don’t like it?” he asked.
    She finally found words, “Oh, Phan, it’s…it’s so lovely.”
 
    The cheap make-up was smeared around her eyes. She leaned across to kiss him but he was too fast for her. He was out of the door and standing in front of the truck, signalling for her to get down. Her legs wobbled as she walked into the circle. Her posture was bad. He’d already started to notice her failings. He was anxious. He couldn’t rush this but he didn’t want it to take for ever .
    “ There’s a bucket over there with soapy water,” he said. “And a mirror .”
    “ You want me to wash?” she asked .
    “ Just your face for now. They make brides put on so much junk at their weddings. You’re beautiful. I want to see the girl behind the mask, just take off the make-up .”
    She shrugged and giggled and knelt by the bucket .
    “ Have you had champagne before?” he asked .
    “ No .”
    He kicked off his shoes and sat cross-legged on the quilt. He started to peel off the foil from around the cork .
    “ There’s a shop in Vientiane,” he said. It was as if he were just reading his lines but not investing any emotion into their delivery. “They have imported luxury items for foreign dignitaries. You can get a lot of exo  – ”
    His eyes had wandered to his bride. She had unbuttoned the top of her blouse and rolled down the collar so she could wash. Her long neck was exposed and, at last, the feeling came to him. It was like a powerful drug that coursed through his veins and made him