Toy Storms Upstairs
Derek speaks his mind about their relationship, then doubts himself. Toy walks away without a word. What happens next will surprise you.
INTRODUCTION
Derek and Toy's story. A man, a marriage, and clues hidden in his own words.
The thirteen sections of Toy Storms Upstairs are abridged versions of the full posts of Derek's story in www.understanding-thailand.com
The purpose of Toy Storms Upstairs is to highlight, by italicising, those words in the story which show he had doubts and suspicions about his relationship with Toy one minute yet refers to her as his Thai goddess the next.
These italicised words offer clues that are so easily missed on a first reading of the full story. But the clues are there, just hidden in his own words.
Derek is a lovably verbose narrator — very much part of his charm. He has a big ego but can also be a little naive. He's a great man to socialise with. Derek narrates his own story — but how much did he really understand about his relationship with Toy?
Derek Begins His Story
Looking back, I realise my first year of marriage was a honeymoon period. Much was changing in my life with Toy. Each day was becoming the same.
I made a cooked English breakfast for Toy each morning — either scrambled eggs, fried bacon and eggs, or, if she was not hungry, a bacon butty. I would open the gates for her to drive to school, then clean up the breakfast dishes and do a few light household chores.
I didn't mind that. She was working. I had retired early, with more spare time on my hands. But I began to think she was taking me for granted.
Sometimes I would meet her for lunch at school, where we'd eat with some of her fellow teachers. Around a hundred baht each. I was always the one who paid. We never lunched just the two of us. It came across as her using me to show off how fortunate she was to have a farang with a full wallet — money for her personal use.
A hundred baht was not going to break me. I like treating people occasionally. This, however, was not only becoming a habit but it was clear she was simply showing off. No Thai husbands ever came to school to lunch with their wives.
Last week I deliberately left my money at home.
Perhaps you'd like to treat me for a change today. That met with a frosty reception, I can tell you. If looks could kill. Although Toy paid, all conversation stopped — not that much of it included me in any case.
I got in first when she arrived home.
Toy, I'm on a fixed pension and, as I have no work permit in Thailand, I have no opportunities to increase the amount of money we have to spend. I can't magic money out of thin air. The money I have in my savings account is going down by the day. A hundred baht does not sound much but it all adds up.
We have to have money set aside for essentials: clothes, repairs to the house, and the car will not last forever. That will take a big chunk out of my bank account. And what if I have to go to hospital? The fees will be several times higher than those a Thai would pay. I am not getting any younger, Toy.
I didn't expect an answer and I didn't get one. Toy stormed upstairs.
I think I realised at that moment that this marriage was over — before her footsteps had reached the top of the stairs.
I Was Confused
I poured myself a large drink and switched on a film. But I wasn't really watching any of it. Staring at the screen, my mind was going round in circles. Maybe I had overreacted. I should have been more tactful and reasoned with her. All couples have little tiffs. It's perfectly normal.
No, Derek, I said to myself, this can't go on. It needs sorting before the situation gets totally out of control — and then the marriage will be over in any case.
I slept on the sofa. I suppose most husbands have found themselves in a similar dilemma and have done precisely that on occasion. There were times during my two previous marriages in England when I slept downstairs after an argument.
The noise of her car pulling out of the drive woke me. I grabbed my mobile phone intending to ring Toy and ask her what in the devil's name she was playing at. Civilised couples don't act like that. They try to sort things out.
I changed my mind and put the phone down. I was going to brazen this out. Backing down and doing everything her way was not going to be a realistic option if our marriage still had a future.
Derek Looks Back at When He First Met Toy.
We’re Airborne
I remember the 747 jumbo letting loose the power of its four engines with a roar. With the brakes released, all 340 or so passengers — including me — were forced back into their seats. We were leaving London Heathrow’s runway 2 and starting our ascent into the mid-morning sky.
I gulped down yet another complimentary double scotch. I was still in my seat, but my mind had already left the aircraft.The scotch, I hoped, would help me relax on what I feared would be a long flight into the unknown.
Thoughts of what would be waiting after 13 hours of flying were beginning to worry me. Had I really thought my situation out properly?
Blind Date
I was flying to a blind date with a woman I had met on an internet dating site. She had invited me to Thailand on two previous occasions. I had declined them both. This time, for reasons I was still uncertain of, I had decided to take up her offer.
Toy and I had chatted a great deal over the preceding six months, getting to know each other better. Behind the scenes — I later found out — Kanya had been vetting some of the contacts on her mother’s behalf. Sometimes, when Toy was busy, Kanya was replying to emails and instant messages herself. Including mine.
Perhaps I should have seen that as a possible red light and thought more deeply about it. But I did not.
I was becoming addicted to the idea of Thailand. Was I in danger of seeing only the rosy side? It was years later that I discovered the country has the highest motorcyclist mortality rate in the world and consistently ranks among the most corrupt nations.
Was Thailand Really That Rosy?
The political unrest that simmered beneath the surface seemed to be taken seriously by no one. Not so rosy, after all.
No Thai ever talks about it. Toy certainly never mentioned any of this in our conversations.
Looking around the cabin, I could see several foreign men travelling alone. I found myself wondering whether some of them would fall into the clutches of scheming women and arrive home broken-hearted and penniless. Would I meet that very fate myself? Were Toy and her daughter Kanya simply looking for a “sugar daddy”? I was convinced they were not.
Sitting alone in the arrivals hall on my first visit, waiting and wondering, I had felt a flutter of doubt. What did I actually know about this woman? She used an English nickname rather than her Thai name — which I had thought nothing of at the time, but which now struck me as a little odd.
Had Richard been right after all, with his stories of internet scams and Western men taken for everything they had?
Her family lived near the Burmese border. Was she genuinely Thai? Had she really worked on a neighbour’s rice farm, tended water buffaloes, made sweets to sell at the local market to put herself through school and university? These were the stories she had told me. They had moved me. But had I simply been played?
Toy and I spent the rest of that first day visiting the sights in the centre of Chiang Mai. I was learning about Thailand, but more importantly I was getting to know this woman. Unlike every other couple around us, Toy held my hand tightly in hers as we moved from one temple to the next.
She had just been telling me that Thais don’t do that in public. She was telling me one thing and doing quite another.
A Thai Thief
Richard had told me Thais would always tell you what they thought you wanted to hear, rather than just answering your question.
Not only could it be misleading — it was a shock to the system. Culture shock. It is tricky to explain unless you have personally felt it. I became tired and uneasy from the frustrations that these cultural differences were causing.
Toy tried to offer explanations, but I think she was anxious not to be seen as critical of Thais. Not that I would have taken it as a condemnation. I simply wanted to understand. Should I have been more suspicious of Toy’s reluctance to be direct with me? Could our relationship survive this?
No Words Spoken
I had become drunk on the national culture: the sun, the food, the people. Toy had shown so much love and care towards me. I had been so heartless in my first days to doubt her.
On the last day of my holiday, there was a distinct silence. Neither of us was acknowledging that the day of my leaving had arrived. I handed Toy some clothes, telling her I would not need them in the UK but would need them when I returned.
Looking into her eyes, I could see that this small gesture had comforted her. It may also have signalled that she knew she had me hooked.
I didn’t know whether she believed me or not. Were my words empty of meaning? On later reflection, I think her female intuition would have picked up how I felt about her — and that she had already secured what Kanya had referred to as “a new husband for yourself and a father for me.
Talking to My Son
Although Toy had said she received her award from King Bhumibol, I later understood from a friend that it was another member of the royal family. The King had stopped officiating at these ceremonies years ago because of failing health. Toy was no exception to the Thai tendency to embellish.
I let it pass. It was not of great consequence. In the West, you would question why a girlfriend needlessly made such a claim. You might become more cautious of anything else she told you.
I did not realise the significance of a woman taking a man to see her parents and family. It is not simply a matter of seeking approval — though a dowry will be negotiated later if a marriage takes place — but a public declaration that the man is more than a casual friend. It shows the woman regards the relationship as permanent.
If a man does not intend a friendship to develop so quickly into an engagement or a wedding, he should not visit the family home. That visit signals a future wedding. Not going at least saves any face being lost. Thai men understand these protocols. I did not. And Toy had not enlightened me.
Feeding the Cat
Toy’s computer sat in the corner — the same computer at which she and Kanya spent hours sending messages to men on the dating forums. Me included.
This was only my second trip to Thailand. I could see that both Toy and I were having our futures mapped out by her friends and colleagues. Invitations to parties and social events came regularly during this visit; I was seemingly being eased into Thai life.
I was conscious that I was not always reading the body language of the Thais. I have never been good at that. I failed to see what was really in their minds.
Toy and I provisionally began looking for houses to buy. It was quite enjoyable — even exciting — to tour the moobaans (gated communities) and compare the different styles of housing available. Toy said most foreigners seemed happier where there was some security on hand, often around the clock.
She said I would need Western-style facilities: a clubhouse, a communal swimming pool. I had not spoken to any Western friends about it, but she was probably right. In retrospect, I should have bounced the idea off them.
I could see that Toy would feel more secure if we eventually married and owned a house together — “together” perhaps deserving inverted commas, since it would never be in my name or held jointly.
It would be Kanya’s inheritance when we had both gone. My own son, Michael, could never inherit the home. It could not feature in my will.
There was a logic in Toy’s thinking, and I accepted it. It would be difficult for Toy to explain to her friends and co-workers why we hadn’t bought a house. Thai culture expects foreigners to buy homes for their wives or girlfriends. They would lose face if they were still renting instead of owning land and a house.
Spending Time at Toy’s School
I went along to a local expats’ club to try to widen my circle of English-speaking acquaintances. I was conscious that almost all my contacts so far were Toy’s work colleagues. It seemed vital that I build a wider social circle of both Thai and farang friends.
Like all Thais, Toy has a clear sense of who are her equals and who are not. Knowing your place is an accepted feature of Thai life and its rules of class and hierarchy. Sometimes, though, I felt Toy was looking down on others in a way that is foreign to me, and I get a little uneasy when she does it. It is a minor point, I suppose.
I Never Looked Back
I worry that not integrating properly — not speaking some Thai, not fully understanding the Thai way of doing things — could hold me back. But I have Toy to smooth the way. I am always meeting people through her.
Despite that, I sometimes feel alone in Thailand.
I remember when my ex-wife in England threw away our sentimental stamp collection at the recycling depot. It was Toy that I turned to for comfort. I had no one else. Toy was fast becoming my anchor. And I think she knew it.
Burning My Boats
I recall that when I made the decision to leave England for good, Toy’s first words to me were, “You’re in my country now.” That gave me a sensation of security and made me less anxious. I was glad to be with Toy again, with someone I could trust. She had eased me into Thai life before; she could do so again. I would not be alone.
It dawned on me that I was not building my own social group among the Thais. I was integrating, but only vicariously through Toy. I was not making my own friends. Take Toy out of the equation and I would become the typical lonely foreigner, having to rely on expat clubs and other gathering places for people who have no one else.
We see Kanya a great deal more than we used to. She is a bright and lively young lady and good company. But you can have too much of a good thing. We will have to establish some ground rules about how often we meet as a threesome.
I hope to marry Toy one day, and as much as I love Kanya and would do anything for her, I see Toy and myself as a couple who should have some time alone together.
Thais can be very persuasive. Without arguing, they get their way through gentle, repeated suggestion. Toy may well be right about expats preferring to live in gated moobaans. Never having lived in an ordinary Thai village, I cannot really judge.
I tend to go along with Toy’s ideas. I don’t speak Thai, and outside her own social circle I don’t know any Thais personally. Perhaps I should try to create more space for myself — get out a bit more, build a fresher circle of friends, whether Thai or Western. I must give it some thought.
Feeling Alone
I don’t think marrying Toy was love on the rebound. I don’t believe it was a reaction to my two failed marriages in England. Toy and I have had a great deal of fun together and she is a most caring lady. We are happy enough and enjoy each other’s company.
I like to have a coffee with a few friends every Friday, but because Toy goes upstairs whenever a farang comes round to see me, we now always meet at a local coffee shop. She is rather shy around them — though she never behaves that way with her Thai friends. Sometimes she has made plans for the day and I have had to cancel at the last minute.
It is not always wise to voice opinions here. Mai pen rai — no conflict — rearing its head as usual. As I understand it, Thais can be guarded if their partners get too close or familiar with other expats. They do not know what advice those friends might be giving.
It could change a Thai wife’s relationship with her own farang. There was a ring of truth in that. Toy always asks what we have been talking about when I return from my Friday get-togethers.
She can be a bit suspicious. I think she believes other farangs might try to turn me into an anti-Thai type of man.
I do get embarrassed when Toy disappears the moment friends come round. I don’t show my feelings and I make excuses, but they feel snubbed and have said so. During one dinner with fellow expats at a restaurant, she sat all evening with an earplug connected to her iPhone, listening to music. We must allow for idiosyncrasies like that.
Ask a Thai what they consider characteristic of someone they call poo dee angkrit — which can mean any generous, trusting Westerner, not just an Englishman — and they will tell you: generous, caring, malleable, polite.
A Thai may wrongly take these qualities as signs of naivety and try to take advantage. I don’t believe Toy does that. But I must accept that some Thai wives do see their husbands as walking ATMs.
Sometimes, I wonder if Toy would have married me had I not been a moderately well-off bank manager. But the thought soon leaves my mind, and I reflect on how much my Thai goddess and I are happy together.
A Reality Check
Thai wives do not seem keen to guide their partners through Thai ways or help them adapt to life here. They see it as arguing, when in fact it could be of immense help.
Toy is the same. I wish she would explain in plain words how I should react in certain situations. Thai culture is new to me, and to many expats — some gentle guidance in navigating the culture shock and learning to live in harmony here would be invaluable.
Expat Clubs
Another friend had been dividing his time between Thailand and Scotland over the previous six years. He had married a dental technician from Bangkok two years ago and had now decided to apply for a retirement visa so that he could move here permanently. He appeared more attuned to Thai life — not simply accepting the obvious propaganda at face value.
Luckily, I have Toy to tell me what is propaganda and what is not. At least, I think I do.
On Derek’s 65th Birthday
What Derek could not tell us himself, we must record here.
Derek took his last breath on his sixty-fifth birthday, slumped in his favourite armchair on the balcony. The afternoon light was fading over the garden he had never quite made his own. There was a glass on the table beside him — still half full. He died alone.
Michael, his son, did not attend the cremation.
The expat community cut them off completely. No calls, no visits, nothing.
Did Derek die of a broken heart? At what point do readers think he fully realised what was happening in his relationship with Toy? I would love to read your thoughts in the comments section.
On Derek’s 65th Birthday
What Derek could not tell us himself, we must record here.
Derek took his last breath on his sixty-fifth birthday, slumped in his favourite armchair on the balcony. The afternoon light was fading over the garden he had never quite made his own. There was a glass on the table beside him — still half full. He died alone.
Michael, his son, did not attend the cremation.
The expat community cut them off completely. No calls, no visits, nothing.
Did Derek die of a broken heart? At what point do readers think he fully realised what was happening in his relationship with Toy? I would love to read your thoughts in the comments section.
© Matt Owens Rees, June 2026
