Endy also said no girl would have to ever go home with a customer if she didn’t want to. He said that a customer who wanted to take a girl home would be expected to ask her himself and then respect her decision, and he even told me that once or twice a girl had supposedly ‘agreed’ to go home with someone but had looked very unhappy or distraught about the idea and so the club had not permitted it.
I found Endy to be a wealth of information in those early days, and I would often pick his brains about the workings of the club and how to get on and make sure I progressed up the ladder as quickly and effectively as possible. Endy was always ready with a snippet of advice or information and we got along famously. I asked him what he knew about Pak Neil and how come a bule, a white foreigner, had ended up owning the bar. Here, though, Endy was a little less forthcoming and a bit more guarded.
‘I don’t really know that much about him, to tell you the truth,’ Endy explained one day when I asked him again. ‘All I can say is one day we all came to work a year or so ago and everything had changed.’
‘How do you mean?’ I asked him.
He thought for a moment before replying. ‘Well, the club used to be run by an Indonesian guy when I started working here two years ago, and it was a bit of a state, to be honest. It was a rough club, there was always trouble with gangs and fighting, and police raids were not uncommon. I stuck it out because I needed a job, but it was clear that the club was failing and it was only a matter of time before it closed down.’
‘So, what happened?’ I pushed a bit more.
‘Well, like I say, one day we got to work and saw there had been changes,’ Endy explained. ‘The old owner was nowhere to be seen, and in his place was Pak Neil. He told us that he was running things now and that there were more changes on the way. Then, true to his word, things did change. The club went slightly more upmarket, the trouble stopped, the police stopped visiting so much, and normal regular punters came back in droves.’
I decided to give one last push: ‘But Pak Neil? Where did he suddenly come from?’
Endy just looked at me. ‘Nobody is quite sure, and nobody is really brave enough to ask too many questions.’
I wasn’t sure if this was meant as a warning to me to desist, but before I could say anything Endy continued anyway.
‘It is rumoured that he lives outside the city somewhere and that he has been here in Indonesia for a long time. Some say he has even married a local woman and has a kid or two, but nobody has seen them and he has never spoken to anyone about that side of his life at all. All I know for sure is he’s often gone for long periods of time and he’s a pretty nice guy. Nothing more I can say than that, really.’
I knew that was all I was going to get out of Endy and so I decided to drop the subject altogether and get back to work. I would, I decided, not ask any more questions or try and dig into Pak Neil’s story or background. After all, I reasoned, what was it to me? All I knew was I had a good job and I was being well paid to do something I reasonably enjoyed, and I wasn’t doing anything illegal or potentially shameful to my family. That was what was important.
I did see Pak Neil around once or twice, however, and one time I even ended up being given a lift home by him. It was late in what had been a run-of-the-mill kind of evening when Pak Neil showed up at the club with two other people in tow. I had never seen these two other guys before – both Indonesian – but the three of them disappeared into Pak’s office and I thought nothing more of it. After a few minutes, Pak Neil emerged and walked his guests through the club and back to the entrance. As far as I could see, they didn’t stop to talk to anyone on the way and nothing was out of the ordinary, or so it seemed.
Pak Neil, upon coming back into the club after seeing his guests off, appeared slightly out of sorts, however. Instead of either going to his office or taking a walk around the club as he usually did when he made an appearance, he now made straight for the bar where I was on duty. I had never seen him take a drink before, but now he ordered a large whisky and he even appeared to be trembling slightly.
‘Are you OK, Pak?’ I ventured as respectfully as I could.
‘Umm?’ was all I got in reply. I decided it wasn’t worth pushing it and so I carried on cleaning up. After Pak Neil had finished his drink he seemed to regain a bit of colour in his cheeks and a bit of a spring in his step once again, as it were.
‘Jack. Get your coat. I’ll give you a lift home.’ This was somewhat unexpected as Pak Neil had never been known to give anyone a lift before.
‘I haven’t finished here yet,’ I said, aware of how weak it sounded even as the words left my mouth.
‘Ah, leave it. Endy will close up here. Won’t
