Gay Boy Thailand

Duff went to look for his mother and found her outside the restaurant.

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- About this teenage girl, said Detective Gran.
- Yes? said Dietmar.

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- I hope you haven’t invited that awful Swede, said Duff’s mother.

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Detective Gran returned to Superman bar at 10pm. The music was playing and the lights were flashing. A group of boys in tight underwear were dancing on stage.

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Duff woke when the phone next to his bed rang.
- Rise and shine! said his mother.
- Mum, it is 7am.

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It was midnight in the Malaysia Hotel when Larson called Duff’s room from a phone in the lobby.

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Bjorn and Geng sat in a taxi on Sukhumvit road. It was 8am and traffic had not moved for 45 minutes.

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Duff went around in circles on the floor. He threw his arms up in the air and said:
- I have never been so disgusted in my life!
- DD, you are acting like a child, said the mother.
- My own mother! And with this guy. Of all people it had to be him.

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Duff went to his room and called Noi.
- You can come now, said Duff.
- Mother you stay hotel? asked Noi.
- She is sleeping. The coast is clear.

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Ms Ethel Duff

The two members of the Duff family arrived at the Malaysia Hotel, where a bell boy hurried to open the car door for them.

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A large photo of Larson dominated the front page of the newspaper. Next to it was a smaller photo of Detective Gran. The newspaper read:

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Larson wondered why the journalists had hurried out of the court room. When he came outside he saw the reason. The media were waiting for him on the steps of the court house.

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- I don’t belong here, thought Larson. He sat in the back of a van with half a dozen other men. They were going to the court house.

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Larson was shown a small room similar to the one he had been in at the airport in Stockholm. Again he had to wait.

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- Your mother? asked Robert Miller. - What is wrong with your mother?
- Nothing, said Duff. - But she is coming to Bangkok!

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Larson sat on the floor in his apartment in Gothenburg, surrounded by clothes and other things he needed to pack for his trip to Thailand. He was satisfied with himself.

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- Larson? asked Bjorn. – I haven’t heard from him. He doesn’t call me anymore.
- Is he unhappy about something? asked Robert Miller.
Bjorn imitated Larson’s voice: - “Bjorn, you always think you are so perfect, with your perfect life and your perfect job in Thailand and your perfect boyfriend!”.

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