Singapore Sling Shot - Andrew Grant [15]
Kiosks selling beach kit, soft drinks and food were scattered along the edge of the sand. There were pavilions and play areas, changing rooms and toilets and all the usual seaside stuff. It was a really well set out playground and there were plenty of people around on this sunny Singapore day.
“School holidays,” Simone said, guessing what I was thinking. “Singapore is very well organised, as you will probably no doubt know.” There was no hint of anything in her voice. “It’s a great place to bring up kids.”
I glanced at her. An open face looked back at me, but I could read her eyes. They said, “Great place for kids, shitty place for adults like me. Young, attractive, bored, divorced and tied to the place.”
I knew without a doubt that if I suggested that we might work at breaking her cycle of boredom for an hour or two before she returned to her kids that she’d be more than willing. I’m not that damn arrogant to suggest that I look like God’s gift to women and that they swoon over me. I just have the ability to read people and I was reading her, and that was exactly why I wasn’t going to even attempt to go that route. To do so would be a cheap shot and a quick fix, and in the end it wouldn’t do anyone much good. I’d just have done my male whore thing again and she’d be back where she started and the despair she felt would just have a fresh sprinkling of broken glass to grind into her soul. Shit, why such deep thoughts? Lighten up, arsehole, I thought.
Now we were climbing steps. There was a Delifrance café to our right. Was it time for lunch? I glanced at my watch. It was a few minutes after midday.
“Lunch?”
“Sure.”
Then I focussed on the towering white façade of the Rasa Resort. Now that had to be the place to find an absolutely over-the-top lunch.
“There,” I suggested, pointing.
“Why not?”
“Rasa Resort it is.”
6
It may seem that since we set out, Simone and I had done nothing but breakfast, morning tea and now lunch. True, we had, and that is exactly what tourists do. This part of staying in character came easily to me. At the hotel we lunched outside above the pool shaded by huge umbrellas. I’d promised my companion the best lunch money could buy and if it wasn’t the best, it sure came close. I’m a seafood nut and when there is lobster on the menu I’m a sucker for it. Simone, it appeared, also had a thing for the regal crustacean.
“Way out of my budget,” she confided in me. “Last time I had it was years ago.”
“Sami’s paying,” I replied. “You can have two if you want.”
“That would be pure greed.”
“So?’
We both laughed. Hey, my dark thoughts had vanished. I was actually enjoying this little interlude. It was almost like a real date. The sort of thing normal people got to do.
When the lobster arrived, Simone did something that struck me as rather strange. She carefully arranged a salad leaf over her lobster’s head. When I asked why, she gave me a sheepish grin.
“I don’t like making eye contact with my food,” she replied.
I had to laugh, and despite my crustacean’s black beady stare, I left it unblinkered. We did our two magnificent specimens true justice. I’d matched my beast with a New Zealand sauvignon blanc. Simone stayed with iced water with a touch of lime.
After coffee, I settled the tab which represented a king’s ransom, of course, but that was to be expected. I used the card that matched my passport. Now I wanted a paper trail. Mr Ed from Perth was definitely in town!
It was 14:15 when we walked down the hotel driveway and hung a left turn to present ourselves at the ticket kiosk for the fort. A few metres up the hill were the fort gates and immediately beyond that a long covered shelter. Here eager youngsters in uniform stamped our tickets. Schoolkids probably. They were all smiles and helpful, youthful bubbling enthusiasm. There is a tram, they told us. Would we wait? No thanks, we wouldn’t!
Simone and I set off up the driveway. It wasn’t particularly steep and, full belly or not, the walking was easy. We stopped