Read Online The Dying Beach by Angela Savage - Free Book Online Page A

toothpaste, sugar cubes, jars of instant coffee, candles and incense sticks, all wrapped in cellophane like hampers. One bucket fitted in the basket on the front of the motorbike. Jayne balanced another on the seat in front of her, leaving Rajiv to carry the third while gripping the back of the seat with his free hand. Jayne drove slowly to appease him, allowing her to take in the scenery.
    Towering karst mountains of ochre and grey were draped in green vines and rose from lush jungle on both sides of the road, a landscape reminiscent of Conan Doyle’s Lost World . Wat Sai Thai was signposted not as a temple but as an ‘Ancient Sea Shell Site’, nestled in a clearing between the road and the mountains. Behind the single-storey building at the entrance was a crematorium with a tall chimney, and beyond that, rows of ornate chedi like miniature temples, the Thai equivalent of tombstones. A Buddha statue as big as a city bus reclined against the base of a cliff beneath a concrete shelter, a knowing smile on his face.
    The first monk to cross their path tried to steer Jayne and Rajiv around the side of the mountain to the shell fossil site. When Jayne explained the purpose of their visit, he registered the orange buckets and gestured towards the building by the entrance. A sign over the door said rong liang , dining hall. They were met by a second monk, who ushered them past clusters of tables and chairs to a room that was empty apart from a white coffin against one wall in a nest of floral wreaths.
    The monk, a youngish man whose orange robes encircled his pot belly like a girdle, knelt on a flat square cushion in the middle of the room. Jayne and Rajiv joined him on the cool tiled floor, Jayne maintaining a respectful distance and sitting in mermaid pose to keep the soles of her feet from view. She tried not to look at the coffin.
    â€˜A funeral, you say?’ The monk directed his questions to Rajiv. ‘For a drowned girl with no family?’
    â€˜That’s correct, Phra ,’ Jayne replied, using the honorific reserved for monks and nobles. ‘We were told Khun Chanida’s funeral would be held here at Wat Sai Thai and we’d like to make a contribution to the cost of the ceremony.’
    The monk rubbed at the shaved patches where his eyebrows had been.
    â€˜Ah, Khun Chanida,’ he said, still addressing Rajiv. ‘Yes, yes. I know the case you are talking about. Her body will come here later today from Krabi Hospital.’
    So soon? Jayne wondered what the prompt release of Pla’s remains implied about the autopsy results.
    She addressed the monk again. ‘When will the funeral ceremony take place, Phra ?’
    â€˜Normally the chanting would commence Tuesday and the cremation take place on Thursday.’ He glanced at the orange buckets. ‘But the length of the ceremony depends on the generosity of Khun Chanida’s friends.’
    He raised his shaven eyebrows at Rajiv, who took it as an opportune moment to hand over the buckets. As women were not permitted to pass anything directly to monks, Jayne gave hers to Rajiv to place at the monk’s feet.
    The monk tilted forward to inspect the contents. ‘Traditionally there are nine monks to conduct the chanting.’
    Rajiv dipped his head to apologise for the shortfall in buckets.
    â€˜The temple will provide a coffin but the cremation will require coal.’
    â€˜ Phra , we will be happy to make a donation to cover the cost of fuel for the cremation,’ Jayne said.
    â€˜For the feasting—’
    â€˜Master is happy to advise young novice that the temple will cater for Khun Chanida’s funeral.’ The interjection came from an older monk who joined them in the hall. Wizened, dark and lean, he gave the young monk an exasperated look, and beamed at Jayne and Rajiv.
    All three of them bowed with a deep wai . The older monk nodded and lowered himself onto the tiled floor, the younger one