On the boardwalk of the Royal Phuket Marina, I am glaring gloomily at my pale blue cocktail. Les Anges does some pretty wicked concoctions, mind. Unfortunately, I am quite the wimp. The weather shares my gloom. A lazy chill fills the air, and the sun is notable only by its absence. Clouds weigh obstinately overhead.

And then she appears. Resplendent in a floral pink frock, Jeanette Skelton dispels the grey with an electric smile and enough personality to put lightning out of business. The sun peeks out to watch.

"I'm so sorry to keep you waiting," she gasps as she slinks into a chair. "I've been so busy! There's stuff happening all over. You wouldn't believe highseason is over.

"It's not just this place," she continues, waving a graceful arm about. "Trissara is so busy, I feel sorry for them. OK, not really. It's all good."

Skelton informs me that she has just finished her tenure as Royal Phuket Marina's full-time public relations/events diva. She continues to consult part-time, not to mention keeping up with her own business, Luxury Events Phuket, started in 2006. She plans myriad events in the Andaman region, writes a social column for a flash magazine, puts together dream weddings for the rich and famous and also edits a tourism leaflet, of which I gratefully accept a copy.

"I have a wedding coming up in Koh Lanta," she informs me. "It's an Indian couple! Have you been? I like Koh Lanta."

I have, but will likely never go again. Memories of a nightmarish ride in an "air con" van with sweating tourists and long lines at ferry crossings make me baulk at the thought.

"I just get the hotel to send a car over," Skelton purrs demurely, "and work on my laptop all the way."

Events are not easy things to plan in Thailand, I am informed. Hotels are painfully slow at coordinating, and it's a challenge to cope with the number of things that are forgotten despite regular reminders. Says Skelton: "It can be frustrating. I have learned to explain every detail painstakingly, and yet ...." The worst part, she giggles, is that Thai hotel staff go out of their way to do things she hasn't asked for. "There are always garish lights in the garden and ribbons tied into adolescent bows all over even if I have explained that we're going for classy, not crass."

Skelton is humbled by the faith her clients put in her.

"I handle everything for the event, from the parties to decorations, catering to specials," she says. "Once the client lets me know what they want, they prefer to stay away and not be bothered by things going wrong, as they continually do."

How does she keep the faith? By staying in touch.

"This is what I love about my work: the people," Skelton says. "I get to plan events for some fabulous folks, and they are so understanding about hiccups. I always keep them abreast of what's going on and assure them that I am taking care of it."

"Sometimes, of course the hiccups are from the other side," she continues with a grin. "An Arabic groom has informed me that he is pretty sure his Mum will attack his bride on the wedding day and that his father will do his best to disrupt the event too."

Skelton has solutions.

"A good friend owns a security company," she says, "I've hired guards to man the gates and other spots."
Can't have the groom snuffed at his own party.

"Its the most important day of their lives," she says, reverentially laying a finger on her temple. "And I plan it for them. This means a lifetime relationship. How can you not develop one with the person who has planned the most important day of your life?"

Makes sense. Where does the professionalism come from? This Kiwi spent more than five years in Hong Kong, running a successful club called the Alibi.

"It was the most happening establishment around," she says proudly. Alibi was the ultimate in hedonistic irreverence. Bankers, mainly, would find their way there day or night, throw their cards to the staff and whip up their own cocktails. A few down, and the guests were dancing on the tables. Skelton was always around, making sure her guests were nothing short of satisfied every time.

After a lull from the Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome (SARS) scare, the recession and the bird flu, Alibi recovered its original fervour, but Skelton had moved on. Hong Kong takes so much from you, she says. It closes in on you with its energy and its momentum. It takes over.

"I was happy professionally but needed to breathe."

And what of romance?

"Never found the right guy," she says. "No, that's not right. I never have the time to find the right guy."

She'd been going to Bali on vacation for years, but when it came to moving, Phuket was it. She loves the chaos that is Asia. The traffic, the nuttiness, the family-of-four-on-the-bike. The West is too sterile, she says.

"I feel privileged to experience all this."

In the future, Skelton thinks her ideal goal would be six months in Asia and six in a western city, preferably London or Paris. For now, though, she has not had her fill of the madness that is Phuket. Besides, she's sharpening her Thai.
And does she now have the time for Mr. Right?

"Yes," she says with a a smile that's a catacomb of mysteries I want to unravel. There is a hint of skeletons in closets and of alibis. When she's ready to tell the world, remember that the Post knew all along and didn't squeal.