I had been in that shit-hole for the best part of a week. Kuala Lumpur is not my
favourite part of the world - hot, sticky, dirty and full of people who would
slit your throat without a second thought.

Our operation out there was in serious trouble, and with my reputation I was the
obvious one to sort out the crisis. These missions are bloody hard work! Tired
and frustrated, I needed a break.

More specifically, I needed a woman.

Of course, in a place like that where wealth rubs shoulders with poverty, women
are not hard to find. However, if you wanted to keep clean and if you had
"specific tastes" a bit of local knowledge was required, and so I sought out one
the long term "ex-pats" who looked as if he was a likely source of information.

"Jerry!" I came up behind him and clapped him hard on the shoulders, knocking him
forward. "I need a favour!"

He looked at me and gave me one of those sheepish smiles that would have said
"piss off you bastard" if he had dared!

"You know me," he said with mock enthusiasm, "anything to help, just fire away!"

I steered him into a meeting room and shooed out a couple of no-hopers having a
heart to heart about their career prospects.

I anticipated the look on his face when I told him what I was after. He failed to
guard the initial flash of shocked horror before his political astuteness advised
a more "laddish" demeanour.

"Well, I can't say I've ever tried THAT," he said trying to look respectful, "but
you could try this....er, gentleman!"

He wrote a name and address down on a piece of paper and handed it over.

I got one of the company drivers to take with me to the address on the paper and
told him to wait while I entered the sleazy looking bar.

Looking both rich and mean - the best way to get results I find - I beckoned to
one of the young waitresses. The young girl approached me.

"Can I he'p you sir?" she smiled.

"I want to talk to Mr Xiang." I said.

She looked disappointed.

"I'm afraid he not here!"

Bloody greedy natives! I took a five dollar bill from my wallet and pushed it
down the front of her dress. Immediately her face lit up again.

"....but I think maybe I find him!"

I gave her another five, and gripped her wrist tightly.

"Cut the 'maybe'!" I scowled fiercely into her smile, watching it melt away like
ice-cream in the sun as I crushed her wrist.

I savoured the little shiver of fear she tried unsuccessfully to hide, and then
released her. She disappeared hurriedly.

A few moments later Xiang appeared. A typical oriental gangster grizzled with
experience that aged him prematurely. To anyone else he may have been terrifying,
but the secret with these people is never to show fear. The girl I had met
pointed me out to him, not smiling at all now, and turned to go about her
business. I watched him steadily as he approached.

"Who send you and what you want!?" he barked, angry at my treatment of his girl
and, more importantly, that he had been wakened from his afternoon nap.

I narrowed my eyes and held his malicious gaze. Arrogant little shit, I thought!

"Who sent me is none of your fucking business!" I said with chilling calmness. "I
want a girl for the afternoon, and that IS your business!"

I told him specifically what I was after, and he stared back at me, his face
showing no emotion.

"Very expensive!" was all he said, then he turned and I followed him.

He lead me up the stairs to a small room. Where there were perhaps half a dozen
young girls, all looking at me with a blank doe-eyed expectation. I don't think
any of them was above the age of 14.

"Don't give me this shit Xiang!" I said, "I'm not paying to break in one of your
virgins for you! I want a woman who knows what she is about, not a kid who'll
just do as she's told! I was told you could provide such a girl....."

I leaned towards him and whispered icily in his ear.

"....or was I misinformed?"

His expression remained inscrutable as he led me from the room. I followed him up
another flight of stairs. This time he knocked on one of the doors.

"Yasuko!" he barked.

A female voice inside jabbered something incomprehensible, then the door opened a
crack and an oval face appeared.

"She do what you want!" said Xiang - I thought I detected a hint of regret in his
voice, but I was not sure, and I did not really care.

"Well, lets see her then!"

No need for translation - she opened the door and stood still for my inspection.
Full, lipped, full breasted  - at least there was little doubt about her age -
her short silken black dress hugged one of those wonderful figures which seem
unique to that part of the world. I moistened my lips involuntarily with
anticipation of some real pleasure!

"OK," I said, "I'll take her back with me to my hotel, my driver is waiting
outside, and he'll bring her back when I've finished with her, OK?"

"We have rooms here!" Xiang was clearly concerned for the safety of his
merchandise!

"You surely don't think I'd go anywhere near any of your flea-ridden
shit-holes.....!" I sneered

The girl glanced up at Xiang. He continued to stare at me for a while, then
nodded.

"Oh, and I'll need some...equipment." I had my own back in the UK, of course, but
it was difficult getting it past the airport detectors!

Xiang nodded and motioned to the girl. She went back into her room for a few
moments before re-emerging with a small battered suitcase. I negotiated a price
with Xiang, and then doubled it - after all I would find a way to claim it back
on expenses, and if I had to stay out here much longer, I may need her services
again. Finally, I checked the contents of the suitcase. I did not want to find
when we got back to the hotel that she had "misunderstood" my requirements! There
was no need to worry, though, and I nodded my approval and even smiled - this
girl would have to teach *me* how to use some of the things she had packed!

As we left he grabbed my arm. A shadow seemed to cross his face.

"You not....hurt her!" he said flatly.

The request seemed incongruous in the context of the deal we had struck. I knew
when to laugh and when not to, though, and simply nodded.

***

When we got back to my hotel room, I found the phone ringing. I picked it up.

"Charles, what the fuck do you want!"

I listened to Charles panicky voice crackling on the other end of the line.

"Jesus, Charles can't you handle it - what do we pay you for!"

He went on. I had to admit it sounded bad!

"Charles, I don't want to hear that, now do I!"

More whingeing! I slammed the phone back down on the hook.

"Shit!"

There was no way round it, my carefully organised afternoon was to be disrupted.
I looked at the girl, who remained calm and expressionless - as well she might!
She was already paid for and the thought that I was not going to get value for
money from this idle bitch annoyed me! Well I would just have to concentrate my
pleasure later!

"I'll be back in one hour!" I snapped at her. "Don't move, and don't touch
anything!"

It was over two hours later before I returned. Now most of my precious afternoon
was gone, and I was frustrated at the disastrous way things had gone. I knew
things were bad, but how this could have happened was beyond me! It had slowly
dawned on me as things slipped away from my grasp that not only was our operation
probably doomed, but so was I!

There seemed to be no way out. I would return to the UK having failed, and with
our business the price of failure was high - God knows I'd made enough people pay
that price myself! I felt, for the first time in a long while, something I only
dimly recognised as fear!

I tried to put my work preoccupations out of my mind. I still had time for some
fun with the girl. Time to work out my frustration and anger, and I was going to
extract as much pleasure as I could from her!

I could hear the music from the radio. She was playing that tuneless Chinese
rubbish; if it soothed her, it certainly did not soothe me! She was standing by
the window, apparently completely unaware of my presence.

I went to take her by the arm, but for some reason I hesitated. She was
completely consumed by what she was doing and I was at least curious. She had a
pad of the hotel notepaper and a pencil and was drawing the scene in front of
her. It was not simply idle doodling, though, her body showed the passion behind
very mark she made on the paper.

A vague undefined warning bell rang. A long buried instinct told me to hold back.
I usually trust my instincts - generally of self-preservation - they keep me
safe. This was something different, though, and I could not quite place it. Then,
as she turned slightly, I saw her face! Gone was the blank expression these
Orientals seem to make a lifetime of cultivating. In its place I saw a terrifying
vision of an elemental creature wrestling with her environment!

It was only the briefest of glimpses, for as she became aware of my presence she
turned quickly to face me, transformed once again to the compliant prostitute I
had hired. Only now there was guilt and fear in her face, as the pad disappeared
quickly behind her back.

I held out my hand expectantly.

"Show me!" I demanded.

She backed away, shaking her head, her face terrified.

"I sorry, Mr!"

"I want to see!" I said, "Show me!"

She seemed strangely desperate for a way out, and I could see her mind working.
It was only a picture for Christ's sake! Then a sickly twisted grin appeared on
her face.

"I bad girl, sir," she advanced towards me, "you punish me now?"

Reminded thus of my original purpose, this seemed like a good idea and she
shrieked as I grabbed her arm, twisting it so that she released the pad. I pushed
her back so she fell onto the bed. Glancing at the pad, I took Xiangs case and
opened it. I looked back at the pad, a strange curiosity taking hold, and picked
it up....

"The Starry Night" the memory shot into my mind like a flare. My mother had taken
me once to the National Gallery during a particularly miserable period in all our
lives. I think she was using the place as a kind of refuge - she had no feel for
art - but at least it was peaceful, away from all the shouting and pain. As we
walked through the galleries of paintings, some dreary, some incomprehensible, I
found my eye caught by one in particular. I was suddenly lost in a world of
swirling trees and stars. Wild and chaotic in a way that no other painting was, I
had found something that bridged the gap between the terrible insecurities that
were real life for me at the time, and a different fantasy world that offered me
escape. I had never realised such a world existed!

The moment was gone as my mother, pressed for time, as always, tugged my arm and
dragged me away. I barely had time to read the title plate - "The Starry Night -
Vincent Van Gogh". I never thought of it again.

Until now!

Oh, this was a different picture - no swirling stars, and trees but as I held it
in my hand I felt that it was just as much a living thing as "The Starry Night"
was. It was, if anything, even more alive for being unfinished. There, once
again, was that long-forgotten bridge into that other world where I did not have
to brutalise and dominate my fellow human being in order to shield myself
from....

I had seen the view from my window every day since coming to this god-forsaken
country, but I had never seen what was there, never seen it through such eyes!
For her that magical world was all around and she could escape to it whenever she
wanted.

I had the power and ability to get more or less what I wanted from people, but
here was a gift that was hers, not mine. I envied her that!

She was sitting cross-legged on the bed staring dreamily at the contents of
Xiang's suitcase and almost absently massaging her left breast as she did so. I
glanced down at the white triangle of her panties and noticed that a fresh wet
patch had already appeared. It was unusual in this line of business to find a
girl who truly enjoyed her work - particularly in this particular line of
specialisation! She looked up at me and lay back, thrusting her hips gently.

She was incredible and quite stunning - there was no doubt about that - but
suddenly I was not feeling my usual lusts and desires. In fact my loins, probably
for the first time, were completely unresponsive. Maybe it was the stress of the
work situation getting to me - another first - or maybe it really was the power
of her picture.... I smiled ironically. Most of the time girls I come across can
never entirely satisfy my needs - they are either too unimaginative, or are
simply doing a job. This one, though, was not only beautiful, but I sensed that
she really was in tune with what I wanted!

Only, right now, I didn't want it!

She was watching me expectantly with beautiful brown eyes and I saw for the first
time how piercing they actually were. She seemed to be searching the depths of my
black little soul, but without judgement or emotion. She was taking my essence
from me coldly, like a pirate, to incorporate it into her own incredible
imagination.

I stared at my feet, for a moment, and again for the first time, unsure. Then I
took the pad and pencil and thrust them awkwardly into her hands.

"Draw!" I mumbled.

Her face fell and she stopped fondling herself.

"I no good? I not turn you on?"

"I just want you to finish the picture!" I muttered.

"But I here to give you pleasure, not draw picture!" she said perversely.

Something snapped!

"JUST FINISH THE BLOODY PICTURE YOU STUPID BITCH!" I yelled.

I saw her bite her lip as she quickly jumped off the bed, her face full of fear.
She took the pad and stood in front of the window as before, but the pencil did
not move.

Suddenly she burst into tears.

"You no tell Mr Xiang I no good for you, please, please! You no ask for money
back because I not make you happy! Please....."

I listened to her, mouth open in astonishment. How could she not know! I took her
hands - gently this time - and drew her to me.

"I want you to finish the picture because it would make me happier than you
realise!" I said, hardly believing that this drivel was coming from my own lips!

"I will pay for the picture and I will tell Mr Xiang whatever you want me to!"

Her tears began to subside and she looked at me, sniffing away her sobs.

"But you not pay for picture! You pay for.... this!" she said incredulously,
indicating the old suitcase.

There was a long pause.

"You not tell Mr Xiang," she said.

I shook my head.

Gingerly she took the pad and resumed her position by the window. She was
uncertain at first, and kept shooting me suspicious glances as I helped myself to
a stiff whisky and settled down on the bed to think and to watch. I remained
silent and soon she seemed to forget I was there. Once again she became immersed
in her task, throwing body and soul into her drawing.

I sipped the scotch feeling its soothing heat trickle down my throat. This was
just a sideline for her, I thought. I wondered cynically how and why a busy
little Chinese slut like her found time for such sidelines. For me the pursuit of
money and power left little scope for such timewasting!

I emptied the tumbler and refilled it. As the alcohol started to calm my nerves I
found my thinking started to clear. In a sense, I realised, she was just like me!
She felt just as guilty about taking time out to draw her picture as I would have
expected her to feel - as I would have felt myself! These whores, I reflected,
live to make money for themselves and for their pimps. Nothing else mattered.
This was the way they were brought up - it was a part of their culture.

Then came a flash of insight! What if the depth of shame she felt for her need to
indulge her gift was so profound that she actually hated herself! She could have
stuck to conventional whoring and maybe expected to live to bear children for the
next generation of whores. After all there was not normally any other option for
these people - why not make it as easy on yourself as you could? The type of
whoring she specialised in, and which she actually seemed to enjoy, was full of
risk and danger and girls generally did it only out of desperation. This was the
kind of thing that could even end her young life, and she seemed to relish it
almost to the point of wanting it! I remembered the vision of her cross-legged on
the bed, staring whistfully at the evil devices in the case and it all fell into
place.

I became transfixed! Maybe it was the heat, the stress, the drink but I actually
began to feel protective towards this poor doomed creature. She had to be allowed
to work at her drawing and it was my duty to let her - help her work. I had to
provide her with the space, somehow. Not just now, but forever! I had to preserve
her gift.

Dusk began to fall and the light faded. She became more and more agitated as the
scene in front of her became indistinct, and finally, with a frustrated little
yelp she flung the pad to the ground. I switched the light on and in the sudden
glare, she once more became confused and frightened. She looked around as if
waking from a dream, and gasped.

"I must go now! I late!" she said urgently.

The mood was broken and the warmth of the whisky was beginning to become painful.
I became frustrated.

"If I want, you'll stay with me all night!" I slurred angrily.

I stooped to pick up the discarded pad and tried to focus on the finished
picture. It was useless though. The whisky seemed to behave like some vengeful
spirit putting a barrier between me and her creation. I knew there was something
wonderful on the pad - it was just denied me then. I felt bitterly disappointed
somehow.

"You pay for more sex?" she asked, businesslike, but still anxious.

"No, no, no," I struggled to remember her name. "Y Yasuko... talk to me!" I was
desperately searching for a lifeline.

She paused, and then burst out laughing. "You strange man!" she chuckled, "First
you not want sex, then you want me to talk! There plenty of girls cheaper for
*that*!"

I showed her the picture.

"Where did you learn to do this?"

Again there was fear in her eyes.

"You not tell Xiang! He not like! He warn me about this before and he beat me if
I do it again!"

"Yasuko, you must break away from this. You must go to art college. Make
something of yourself!" I was babbling and I knew it!

I paid the price in pride, for this time it was her turn to be angry.

"And who pay?!" she snapped, looking at me hard.

This time I knew where to stop! The clear invitation was there but the hard man
was regaining control. There was no way I would finance her life!

"You can get grants!"

"Mr, you still don' understand! I earn more money now in an hour than most people
earn in a month!"

The reminder of the hole in my wallet told me she was right and brought me back
down to earth. The lifeline I had been grasping at was lost to me.

"I never earn that much with this!" she indicated her sketch with a sneer. "Why
should I stop fucking?"

God I was behaving like a bloody kid! Right now this little whore, was showing
far more good sense than I was! I would have told her that money wasn't
everything, that she should devote her life to her own happiness rather than
satisfying sick punters like me, just because they paid her well. How could I
tell her these things, though, when I didn't really believe them myself!?

Or did I? Did she?

As I looked in her eyes, I could see her heart was not with what she had told me.
They were full of tears as she stared at the carpet. Then she looked up at me.

"You take me home now."

I was in no fit state to drive and the company car had long since gone. I phoned
the hotel, ordered her a taxi and was told there was already one ready. It took
her back to Xiangs bar.

***

"You stupid shit!"

I had sacrificed my one afternoon of leisure (well most of it anyway) to try to
sort out the trouble with our operation and make sure the boys were back on an
even keel, and they had still cocked it up!

Charlie looked at me and I could see the resentful rebellion of a desperate man
in his eyes. It was plain to everyone that this meant we were out of Kuala Lumpur
for good this time and that heads would roll! I had to look out for my own
career, as did everyone else now, and it was only too clear to me that I had made
no friends here!

So I took the next plane home, drafting my resignation letter on the way, and
handed it in to our UK HQ at the first opportunity. Its always as well to go
before you are pushed!

***

Josephine used to be beautiful. Having such a woman beside me enhanced my status
and that was my main reason for marrying her. She was a strategic acquisition.

I remember our first time together and my little "experiments" with her. She had
stood there afterwards trembling and said that if I didn't promise never to try
anything like that again, she would call the police! I had shrugged my shoulders
and said OK. After all if she actually had done anything like that, my status
would have taken a severe knock! Since then our physical relationship had
remained "conventional" and I went to others to satisfy my peculiar lusts.

Married life had taken its toll, though and her looks and attitude had hardened
with the years. She spent my money on clothes and jewellery with a passion which
often left my bank account severely bruised. I didn't mind too much though; as
long as she kept herself looking reasonably good and kept her mouth shut, she
would remain an asset to me. She also had one or two lovers over the years, and I
didn't really mind that either. I wasn't above terrorising her boyfriends when it
suited me and remained oblivious to her pain when they were forced to leave.

She probably hated me by now, but divorce was never a consideration for either of
us. I couldn't be bothered, and she was clearly prepared to put up with a great
deal for access to the cash I brought in. Besides, she knew that in any divorce
settlement I would make her life hell if I could - and she knew I could!

What happened in Malaysia and my subsequent resignation were her first
experiences of my failure. Like any trapped animal she could scent the weakness
of her oppressor and she began to play on it mercilessly.

I would normally have expected to land another job fairly quickly, but I found
the interviewing process more difficult than usual. For some reason I was having
difficulty in concentrating on the task in hand, and it showed. With each failed
application, my morale dropped, and my growing lack of enthusiasm for the jobs I
was applying for became apparent. I became angry with myself, with her and with
the cretins who failed to appreciate my talents. At one interview I actually
slammed my fist onto the table, yelled some obscenity and walked out - some
trivial observation from some smartass on the panel!

Josephine quickly honed her abilities to hurt, sensing my weaknesses and
insecurities with uncanny accuracy  and exploiting them to the full. It almost
seemed that she wanted me to fail, undermining me in any way possible before I
went for any interview.

I stopped applying for jobs eventually and the money began to run out. We faced
each other daily watching the hate grow more intense in each others eyes.

One afternoon found me going through some of the Malaysia papers in my study with
a view to clearing out some of the rubbish. A slip of paper fluttered to the
floor and I picked it up.

Yasuko's picture.

It was as if a noise - ringing in my head for so long that I had ceased hearing
it - had been turned off. I stared at it long and hard, losing myself in its
lines and shapes. The memory of that afternoon in that far off hotel room
suddenly came back to me. I hadn't really seen the picture then - the drink and
the confusion had kept it hidden from me - and as I had hurriedly packed after
she left, it had been thrown in my case with a lot of other paperwork and
forgotten.

The real world around me seemed to disappear - to become irrelevant. I was alone
in the universe with that picture which now became the only thing of value I now
possessed. Indeed, now it was more precious to me than life itself!

A droplet landed on my hand bringing me back to reality. I was astonished, as
much as anything, to find that it was one of my own tears!

I was suddenly aware that Josephine was standing behind me. She too was staring
at the picture.

It seemed we were both staring at it for an age. I wondered what she thought. Did
it have the same effect on her that it had on me? Maybe, just maybe this little
piece of magic could bring us together. In that moment my love for the picture in
front of me radiated to engulf even Josephine. I wanted her back! Back? I just
wanted her!

Then her voice cut through the stillness.

"Where did you get that crap?"