‘Well, she’s slim, I guess. A bit obsessed, actually.’

She sensed my discomfort again. ‘Don’t worry, Gerald. I am not going to come chasing after you to Singapore. What happens in Jeju, stays in Jeju.

Just relax.’ Again she disarmed me with that fresh, chubby smile.

‘Look, if I don’t follow Mr Wang’s instructions and cook for you, I might lose my job. Would you want that?’

‘No. Of course not.’

‘Fine then. Glad we got that out of the way!’

‘But…’

‘Shssh… look, I have to rush now and arrange for Mr Wang and his guests. He doesn’t like it when instructions are not followed closely. I’ll be back. Just sit tight. Enjoy. Put on the limo TV, have another beer. Oh, and by the way, I’m thinking pasta. I make good pasta.’

‘Yes, but…’

‘No buts!’ she admonished me firmly, shaking her finger in a friendly way. ‘I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.’

She spoke something in Korean to the driver over the phone intercom, got out, then strode forcefully into the hotel.

I hadn’t expected this. I now remembered again how dumbfounded and totally stupid I had felt. At such times, fear and doubt prey on the mind. You question everyone’s intentions. I had wondered what Wang was up to. He had nothing to gain from me. I needed his business, not the other way around.

Truly, it was very odd. I had never met such a strange entrepreneur before in all the fifteen years of my working life. Why such generosity? No one does things for no reason. My suspicious Singapore brain was working overtime.

Who in their right mind would be doing all this for me?

But the more I asked, the more I found that I had no real logical answers.

Putting the pieces together, I saw that June had clearly been Wang’s employee in the hotel and casino. Was he the silent owner? Why hadn’t he let on and how had June come to be here as his aide de camp?

Yes, I had gotten myself into a real state, feeling impatient and upset, thinking that perhaps he was avoiding talking business because he was not going to give me the contract after all. Perhaps he was letting me down gently. I was booked to leave the very next day. Should I trust what June said—that he liked me and would definitely sign the deal? I sighed and really prayed that she was right.

Remembering all those fears and uncertain emotions while waiting in the limousine had made me resolve: Hang it, Gerald. Stop being such a wimp. Just let things happen or you end up with an ulcer. That’s how I had slapped myself around for awhile sitting in this millionaire’s long black piece of luxury on four wheels, parked outside a huge hotel with its own flashing casino in the basement. Thus, I had reached for another Hite beer from the car-bar, switched to the other seat, pressed the console button that opened a compartment to a mini limo TV and channel-surfed: a children’s game show with the host dressed like a bear, a Korean cooking segment of the news with a local personality. I then sunk down in the seat with some dated Hollywood action flick dubbed in Korean with the ads scrolled along the bottom of the screen in block-character Korean, gulping my beer. It only took a moment and I began to feel drowsy. Yes, it was true I had hardly eaten a thing that day, starting with a disturbed breakfast and now the beer was going straight to my head. My eyelids and head began to droop.

I don’t know how long I nodded off for, but as the limo door opened I sat up, startled to see her back. This time, she plonked herself down with a heavy bounce next to me, closed the door, gave instructions to the driver through the intercom and then looked directly into my eyes, as if knowing that I was feeling awkward and uncomfortable. She took my head very gently like a baby and rested me on her ample bosom.

‘There, relax,’ she said in a very soothing voice as she stroked my hair.

As if going under hypnosis, I just followed instructions and let my last guard drop.

I must have gone straight to sleep again. When I woke up, I was brought to consciousness by June’s voice:

‘Here we go.’

She was easing me out of the cab, up stairs, into a lift, supporting me with her strong ample body that was like a soft vertical sofa. Was I leaning up or lying down? I couldn’t tell. The chime of the lift bell startled me.

‘Where am I?’

‘Home,’ she said, sliding a key into the lock and bouncing back the door with her sneaker as she navigated me inside. The light went on and I saw a comfortable apartment with a white, U-shaped sofa that looked vaguely familiar.

She deposited me there. I put my phone on the coffee table.

‘There, Baby. Give me a moment.’

Directly in front was a huge aquarium with all kinds of colourful fish, rocks and weed waving in the electro-generated current. Yes, I thought, this was just about right for the home of a haenyo.

June came back from the bedroom or wherever and bounced herself down beside me with a towel and bathrobe.

‘Here. Go take a shower. You’ll feel much better.’ And then kissed me again, hugging me close to the warm and abundant coastline of herself. This time, I responded with my tongue. She allowed me to explore her mouth and, then broke off.

‘Ah we are now waking up, are we?’ And with that, kissed me again with a quick smacking sound, rousing and pushing me off in the direction of the bathroom.’

‘Go on!’

I went in, closed the door, undressed, relieved myself and then lingered under the hot water and let my thoughts drift for quite a while. Yes, I was definitely in the hands of a big, loving woman. I heard her voice echoing in my mind: Just relax. One sucking kiss had brought on my first penile wetness in the cab and now here, thinking of it under the water, I had become hard. I tried to control myself with neutral thoughts and, fearing that I would come then and there, I got out of the shower, towelled myself dry and put on the red bathrobe, tying it around the middle. I slicked back my wet hair with the comb from my back pocket, looked in the mirror, took a deep breath, then returned to the living room.

She had dimmed the lighting and some jazz was playing on the DVD player. I took my position again on the couch. There were cooking smells coming from the kitchen area that formed one side of the living room separated by a bench and bar stools. I smelled boiling water, salt, herbs and tomatoes and there was the sound of chopping. I didn’t look over my shoulder. I had decided to let things unfold and accept whatever dish of experience was offered.

‘Feeling better?’

‘Tremendous,’ I said lounging back into the sofa.

‘Almost ready,’ she said. I heard the ping of a microwave and also the opening and closing of a fridge door. In a moment she was coming to join me, humming something in Korean to herself, holding a tray: on it were three small white bottles and two small ceramic cups. There were also various pickles, seaweeds and something hot-pancake squares with all kinds of vegetables cooked into them. She must have had a supply and quickly microwaved them. There was also a kimchi for good measure, which still smelled like detergent. Some things one never gets used to. She poured with the right hand, while holding the elbow with her left, then passed me the bottle. The liquor was milky-white.

‘Now you pour for me,’ she said. Being left-handed, I transferred the plastic bottle.

‘No, no. The Korean way,’ she said, re-positioning it in my right with my left just below the elbow as she had done. It seemed strange, but seeing that I had decided to surrender to whatever came, I accepted her direction and filled her cup.

‘We always pour for each other. It is polite.’

‘That’s nice,’ I said.

Now she picked up her wine cup with two hands, nodding for me to do the same.