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Smith decided to accept the offer of a room with the old man's mother. He thought it would be sensible to leave his luggage there before they went into town in search of Suavarose and her eminent family. It crossed his mind that there was quite a lot of valuable stuff in the cases, including his lap-top computer (which didn't really belong to him) and his cam-corder, but instinct told him that the old man was not a crook.
The mother, as it turned out, did not live in the primitive little building they had seen, but quite a long way further up the track, in a fairly large farmhouse. Its construction was still traditional to the extent that it was raised-up on wooden stilts, but it seemed relatively modern and well-appointed. The space underneath the building had been given-over to a sort of barbecue area and modest bar/restaurant, and there were actually three or four guests, very much of the back-packing tourist variety, sitting around eating, drinking and socializing. This place was rather a lucky find, Smith thought to himself, he liked the atmosphere. It obviously generated a bit of trade for the local rickshaw drivers as well because reaching it on foot would have been highly impractical.
Fan's mother, when he met her, seemed if anything a little more youthful than Fan himself. She was a tiny tough wiry old woman, with a deeply-lined face that bore a friendly no-nonsense expression, and she unloaded Smith's bags and whisked them up the steps to his room with the strength and agility of a seventeen-year-old.
"Your mother is very fit!" Smith commented pleasantly.
"My mother was a farmer for fifty-six years. My mother is probably fitter than either of us, Mr. Smith! When my mother young, money did not come easily in this country."
Smith nodded. Tourism to places like this had done at least some little good, he supposed.
While Smith unpacked his things in what turned-out to be a very pleasant little room with a large fan in the middle of the ceiling, the man who bore that device's name had an animated conversation with his mother down at the al fresco food-bar. By the time Smith came down to continue his journey Fan had a little more information for him.
"My mother, she knows the mother of the woman who work for this family. Woman who cook and clean for them. She says these are good people."
Once again, Smith nodded. Everybody seemed to agree that these were good people. Maybe they were good people. Maybe he should just go and talk to them, without any further delay.
"My mother," Fan added, a broad grin on his face, "she say she vote for Miss Suavarose's father six years ago. She say he stopped drugs getting made in this country. Save many young people from terrible things."
"
At these words Smith started. Her father was a politician involved in the war against drugs? This was beginning to get a little bit scary.
Once again, he toyed with the idea of telling Fan everything.
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