The Embassy of Cambodia Read Online Free PDF Page A

chlorine in this pool.’
    ‘Youwant to leave?’
    Andrew turned back to look at Fatou. His eyes were streaming. He looked, to Fatou, like a little boy trying to disguise the fact he had been crying. But then he held her hand, under the water.
    ‘No. I’m just going to take it easy right here.’
    ‘OK,’ Fatou said.
    ‘You swim. You’re good. You swim.’
    ‘OK,’ Fatou said, and set off, and she found that each lap was more distracted and rhythmless than the last. She was not used to being watched while she swam. Ten laps later, she suddenly stood up halfway down the lane and walked the rest of the distance to the wall.
    ‘You want to go in the Jacuzzi?’ she asked him, pointing to it.
    In the hot tub sat a woman dressed in asoaking tracksuit, her head covered with a headscarf. A man next to the woman, perhaps her husband, stared at Fatou and said something to the woman. He was so hairy he was almost as covered as she was. Together they rose up out of the water and left. He was wearing the tiniest of Speedos, the kind Fatou had feared Andrew might wear, and was grateful he had not. Andrew’s shorts were perfectly nice, knee-length, red and solid, and looked good against his skin.
    ‘No,’ Andrew said. ‘It’s great just to be here with you, watching the world go by.’

0–21
    That same evening, Fatou was fired. Not for the guest passes – the Derawals never found out how many miles Fatou had travelled on their membership. In fact, it was hard for Fatou to understand exactly why she was being fired, as Mrs Derawal herself did not seem able to explain it very precisely.
    ‘What you don’t understand is that we have no need for a nanny,’ she said, standing in the doorway of Fatou’s room – there was not really enough space in there for two people to stand without one of them being practically on the bed.‘The children are grown. We need a housekeeper, one who cleans properly. These days, you care more about the children than the cleaning,’ Mrs Derawal added, though Fatou had never cared for the children, not even slightly. ‘And that is of no use to us.’
    Fatou said nothing. She was thinking that she did not have a proper suitcase and would have to take her things from Mrs Derawal’s house in plastic bags.
    ‘And so you will want to find somewhere else to live as soon as possible,’ Mrs Derawal said. ‘My husband’s cousin is coming to stay in this room on Friday – this Friday.’
    Fatou thought about that for a moment. Then she said, ‘Can I please use the phone for one call?’
    Mrs Derawal inspected a piece of wood that had flaked from the doorframe. But she nodded.
    ‘AndI would like to have my passport, please.’
    ‘Excuse me?’
    ‘My passport, please.’
    At last Mrs Derawal looked at Fatou, right into her eyes, but her face was twisted, as if Fatou had just reached over and slapped her. Anyone could see the Devil had climbed inside poor Mrs Derawal. He was lighting her up with a pure fury.
    ‘For goodness’ sake, girl, I don’t have your passport! What would I want with your passport? It’s probably in a drawer in the kitchen somewhere. Is that my job now, too, to look for your things?’
    Fatou was left alone. She packed her things into the decoy shopping bags she usually took to the swimming pool. While she was doing this, someone pushed her passport under her door. Anhour later she carried her bags downstairs and went directly to the phone in the hall. Faizul walked by and lifted his hand for a high-five. Fatou ignored him and dialled Andrew’s number. From her friend’s voice she knew that she had woken him, but he was not even the slightest bit angry. He listened to all she had to say and seemed to understand, too, without her having to say so, that at this moment she could not speak freely. After she had said her part, he asked a few quick technical questions and then explained clearly and carefully what was to happen.
    ‘It will all be OK. They need cleaners in