Anatomy of a proposal - Back in Bangkok

Sunday, 8 November
Bangkok

48hrs, two international flights, 640kms of driving and the suggestion of marriage to my girlfriend’s parents - I’m pretty buggered.

My back and legs are absolutely killing, I’ve popped a million painkillers, but the pain is still pretty bad. I feel like I’ve got some kind of fever or something. Need to go to the hospital.

It’s about 9pm and I’m in the cab now heading into town, now on the phone to Clare. I feel bad about lying to her.

“How was Singapore?”

“Yeah, great, good result all round. Really busy though. Sorry my phone wasn’t working. Didn’t have much access to email either. I need to head to the hospital, have a few sores that might need to be looked at.”

“Are you OK? I’ll come meet you – I’ve missed you this weekend!”

My girlfriend is such a shweetie.

Then it strikes me. Dilemma. I still have all my stuff from Australia.

Maps. P-plates. Confirmation emails. Directions. The wine Libby gave me to give to Clare. Clare’s mail.

“Oh, no seriously, I’ll be fine, just a quick check-up. I’ll be home about 10.30. No need to meet me.”

“I really want to see you, I’ve missed you!”

As I said, my girlfriend is such a shweetie.

“Um, OK, will be there in about 30mins – see you there”

I rush through my bag, locking most of it in and throwing anything I don’t need in the bin when I get to the hospital.

Clare arrives just as I’m at the counter of the hospital ‘checking in’. It's so good to see her!

As we walk toward the emergency room to get my back and leg checked out, Clare seems none the wiser. We’re talking about her weekend, I’m trying to avoid all conversation about ‘Singapore’ and anything kiwifruit related.

I look down toward my bag. Oh God. I forgot the checked-in baggage tag, clearly stating the letters ‘BNE-BKK’. Brisbane-Bangkok. Shit.

I slide down off the trolley and pretend to be looking for something from my bag, rip off the tag and chuck in the bio-waste bin when Clare isn't looking. Even if she suspects something, she won’t go looking for it in there.

I feel like I’m in some Bond movie or something.

The rest of the night is pretty uneventful, bar the fact a surgeon came in and made a 1x1cm hole in my back, excising a random infection I’d picked up probably from footy in Cambodia. Funnily enough, he was also one of my mates, and one of a handful of my Thai friends here in country, randomly working as the resident surgeon at the hospital on the Sunday night.

Back home, and I hide all the goods in my golf bag. Perfect hide.