CHAPTER ONE
Nit has proved to be a good housekeeper. Even the tops of picture frames are dust free, and she has proved her honesty by ignoring the money and valuables left temptingly around the house. Actually, the house is too tidy; clothes neatly folded in drawers and cupboards, and on wire hangers ranged at two-inch intervals in the wardrobe to allow air to circulate. Much to her chagrin I strew newspapers around, rumple the bed and rearrange symmetrically placed ornaments to give the house a lived in atmosphere rather than that of a showroom.
When I was introduced to Nit, she was pretty desperate, having lost her job as supervisor of chambermaids at a large hotel. Here in Thailand, hotel management dismiss staff during the low tourist season to cut overheads. Had Nit been able to speak English she would probably have been retained; she was reduced to sponging on friends and relatives to survive until the next high season. After a couple of interviews with me, she could understand my Thai - I had to ask her to speak Bangkok Thai rather than her Isaan dialect – and she addressed me by the polite ‘Khun’. She moved in on the understanding that it was for a week’s trial and no hanky panky. I was recovering from a broken romantic affair and wanted no emotional involvement with a woman for a time.
My house had two bedrooms, I used one as a study, and the other had a king-sized bed, wardrobe, chest of drawers, dressing table and edging-only circulation space. I laid a row of pillows down the centre of the bed and Nit curled up to sleep on the side nearest the door. It is normal for Thais to share a mattress, I remember sleeping among seven Thais on a queen size bed, fortunately on the end of the row. Nit and I kept to our own side of the pillows without contact, although the sight of her firm body, long legs and full breasts outlined in a thin sarong roused primitive stirrings in my loins. I successfully fought a valiant battle and conquered the urge to scale the heights of the pillows to find comfort in the folds of that firm yet yielding flesh.
I dined well that week, replete from her excellent cooking. The house was clean and she loved the cat, so I didn’t object when on the fifth day a pick-up truck appeared, and a man, Nit said that he was her brother, delivered three large boxes containing her possessions, most of which were clothes and shoes. Nit asserted her skill as a housekeeper. My shirts hanging happily in the wardrobe were folded into the chest of drawers, and household linen moved to a large storage unit in the living room. I admit to later enjoying the sight of neatly folded towels and sheets impeccably stacked on the shelves when I opened the doors. She transferred the contents of one box into the wardrobe, the other two, although carefully aligned with the bedroom furniture, seemed deliberately placed with the express purpose of stubbing my toes every time I tottered to the bathroom in the wee small hours. That was the final straw that prompted a move to a larger house. I took Nit and her boxes with me. I paid her a weekly wage, and provided her food and shelter. During the next month she wanted more than sleep from our nocturnal arrangements. I was not yet ready for an emotional liaison, and removed the pressure of her advances by renting a small house nearby. I put in a kitchen and shower, redecorated and furnished it and helped her start a small garden. I also paid off the installments on her motor scooter. Nit was ecstatic with her ‘Little House’. I placed advertisements in newsagents and supermarkets and soon found her part-time work as a maid in three foreign households; she preferred to be referred to as ‘Housekeeper’. She was now fully employed during weekdays and financially independent and did not have time to work for me. She said that she would repay my outlay of money and moral support by cleaning my house free whenever she could find time, and also do my laundry on Sunday, her day off. As a bonus, I allowed her to include her own laundry. The drying racks were full; she either changed her clothes six times a day or was running a laundry service for her friends, after which she stayed to cook and share dinner. She cleaned the house for an hour or so a few evenings a week. The arrangement suited me; I had a clean house and clothes, no commitment, and plenty of time to pursue my own life. Occasionally she would say that she was too tired to go home and would curl up in my bed for an overnight cuddle. She strongly denied to her acquaintances that we were lovers; she insisted, and still does, that she looks on me as her ‘Father’.
