by Kevin Kwan
They made themselves comfortable in the terrace café, which had a view of the pool but was blessedly air-conditioned. Smartly uniformed waiters walked by with trays bearing a selection of tea cakes, pastries, and nyonya delicacies.
“Mmmm … you need to try this kueh,” Peik Lin said, putting a slice of glutinous rice-and-coconut custard on Rachel’s plate. Rachel took a bite, finding the juxtaposition of subtly sweet custard with almost-savory sticky rice to be surprisingly addictive. She looked around at the bucolic garden, most of the deck chairs now occupied by guests asleep in the late-afternoon sun.
“I still can’t believe Colin’s family owns this hotel,” Rachel said, taking another bite of the kueh.
“Believe it, Rachel. And they own a lot more besides—hotels all over the world, commercial properties, banks, mining companies. The list goes on and on.”
“Colin seems so modest. I mean, we went to one of those outdoor food markets for dinner.”
“There’s nothing unusual about that. Everyone here loves the hawker centers. Remember, this is Asia, and first impressions can be deceiving. You know how most Asians hoard their money. The rich are even more extreme. Many of the wealthiest people here make an effort not to stand out, and most of the time, you would never know you were standing next to a billionaire.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but your family seems to enjoy their wealth.”
“My grandfather came over from China and started out as a bricklayer. He is a self-made man, and he’s instilled the same ‘work hard, play hard’ ethic in all of us. But come on, we’re not in the same league as the Khoos. The Khoos are crazy rich. They are always at the top of the Forbes ‘Asia Rich List.’ And you know that’s just the tip of the iceberg with these families. Forbes only reports on the assets they can verify, and these rich Asians are so secretive about their holdings. The richest families are always richer by billions than what Forbes estimates.”
A piercing electronic melody began to play. “What’s that sound?” Rachel asked, before realizing it was her new Singapore cell phone.
It was Nick calling. “Hey you,” she answered with a smile.
“Hey yourself! Having a nice afternoon catching up with your friend?”
“Absolutely. We’re back at the hotel enjoying high tea. What are you up to?”
“I’m standing here staring at Colin in his underwear.”
“WHAT did you say?”
Nick laughed. “I’m over at Colin’s. The tuxes just came in, and we’re having the tailor make some final adjustments.”
“Oh. How does yours look? Is it powder blue with ruffles?”
“You wish. No, it’s all rhinestones with gold piping. Hey, I completely forgot to tell you, but my grandmother always has the family over for dinner on Friday night. I know you’re still jet-lagged, but do you think you might be up for going?”
“Oh wow. Dinner at your grandmother’s?”
Peik Lin cocked her head at Rachel.
“Who all is going to be there?” Rachel asked.
“Probably just a handful of relatives. Most of my family are still out of the country. But Astrid will be there.”
Rachel was a little unsure. “Um, what do you think? Would you like me to come, or would you rather spend some time alone with your family first?”
“Of course not. I’d love you to come, but only if you’re up for it—I know it’s pretty short notice.”
Rachel looked at Peik Lin, deliberating. Was she ready to meet the family?
“Say yes!” Peik Lin prompted eagerly.
“I’d love to go. What time do we have to be there?”
“Seven thirty-ish is fine. Here’s the thing … I’m at Colin’s place in Sentosa Cove. The Friday-evening traffic is going to be horrible going back into town, so it’s much easier for me to meet you there. Would you mind taking a taxi to my grandmother’s? I’ll give you the address, and I’ll be at the door waiting for you when you arrive.”
“Take a taxi?”
Peik Lin shook her head, mouthing, “I’ll take you.”
“Okay, just tell me where it is,” Rachel said.
“Tyersall Park.”
“Tyersall Park.” She wrote it down on a piece of paper from her purse. “That’s it? What’s the number?”
“There’s no number. Look out for two white pillars, and just tell the driver it’s off Tyersall Avenue, right behind the Botanic Gardens. Call me if you have any problems finding it.”
“Okay, see you in about an hour.”
As soon as Rachel hung up, Peik Lin snatched the piece of paper from her. “Let’s see where Grandma lives.” She scrutinized the address. “No number, so Tyersall Park must be an apartment complex. Hmm … I thought I knew every condo on the island. I’ve never even heard of Tyersall Avenue. I think it’s probably somewhere on the West Coast.”
“Nick said it was right by the Botanic Gardens.”
“Really? That’s very close. Anyway, my driver can figure it out. We have much more important things to deal with—like what you’re going to wear.”
“Oh God, I have no idea!”
“Well, you want to be casual, but you also want to make a good impression, don’t you? Will Colin and Araminta be there tonight?”
“I don’t think so. He said it was just his family.”
“God, I wish I knew more about Nick’s family.”
“You Singaporeans crack me up. All this nosing around!”
“You have to understand. This is one big village—everyone is always in everybody’s business. Plus, you have to admit it’s become much more intriguing now that we know that he’s Colin’s best friend. Anyway, you need to look fabulous tonight!”
“Hmmm … I don’t know. I don’t want to make the wrong impression, like I’m high maintenance or something.”
“Rachel, trust me, no one would ever accuse you of being high maintenance. I recognize the blouse you’re wearing—you bought that in college, didn’t you? Show me what else you brought. It’s your first time meeting the family, so we need to be really strategic about this.”
“Peik Lin, you’re beginning to stress me out! I’m sure his family will be just fine, and they won’t care what I’m wearing as long as I don’t show up naked.”
After multiple costume changes supervised by Peik Lin, Rachel decided to wear what she had been planning to wear in the first place—a long, sleeveless chocolate-colored linen dress with buttons down the front, a simple cinched belt made out of the same fabric, and a pair of low-heeled sandals. She put on a fun silver bracelet that wrapped around her wrist several times and wore the only expensive piece of jewelry she owned—Mikimoto pearl studs that her mother had given her when she got her doctorate.
“You look a bit like Katharine Hepburn on safari,” Peik Lin said. “Elegant, proper, but not trying too hard.”
“Hair up or down?” Rachel asked.
“Just leave it down. It’s a little sexier,” Peik Lin replied. “Come on, let’s go or you’ll be late.”
The girls soon found themselves winding along the leafy back roads behind the Botanic Gardens, searching for Tyersall Avenue. The driver said he had driven past the street before but now could not seem to find it. “It’s strange that the street doesn’t show up on the GPS,” Peik Lin said. “This is a very confusing area because it’s one of the few neighborhoods with these narrow lanes.”
The neighborhood took Rachel completely by surprise, as it was the first time she had seen such large, old houses on sprawling lawns. “Most of these street names sound so British. Napier Road, Cluny Road, Gallop Road …” Rachel commented.
“Well, this is where all the colonial British officials lived—it isn’t really a residential area. Most of these houses are government-owned and many are embassies, like that gray behemoth with the columns over there—that’s the Russian embassy. You know, Nick’s grandma
must live in a government housing complex—that’s why I’ve never heard of it.”
The driver suddenly slowed down, and veered left at a fork in the road, heading down an even narrower lane. “Look, this is Tyersall Avenue, so the building must be off this road,” Peik Lin said. Huge trees with ancient, serpentine trunks rose up on both sides of the road, layered with the dense undergrowth of ferns belonging to the primeval rain forest that once covered the island. The road began to dip and curve to the right, and they suddenly noticed two white hexagonal pillars framing a low iron gate that had been painted pale gray. Tucked into the side of the road, almost hidden by the wild foliage, was a rusty sign that read TYERSALL PARK.
“I have never been down this street in my life. It’s so strange to have apartments here,” was all Peik Lin could say. “What do we do now? Do you want to call Nick?”
Before Rachel could answer, an Indian guard with a fierce-looking beard, wearing a crisp olive-green uniform and a bulky turban, appeared at the gates. Peik Lin’s driver slowly inched forward, lowering his window as the man approached. The guard peered into the car and said in perfect Queen’s English, “Miss Rachel Chu?”
“Yes, that’s me,” Rachel answered, waving from the backseat.
“Welcome, Miss Chu,” the guard said with a smile. “Keep following the road, and stay to your right,” he instructed the driver before he proceeded to open the gates and wave them along.
“Alamak, do you know who that man was?” Peik Lin’s Malay driver said, turning around with a slightly awed expression.
“Who?” Peik Lin asked.
“That was a Gurkha! They are the deadliest soldiers in the world. I used to see them all the time in Brunei. The Sultan of Brunei only uses Gurkhas as his private protection force. What is a Gurkha doing here?” The car continued on the road and wound up a slight hill, both sides of the driveway a dense wall of clipped hedges. As it turned up a gentle curve, they came upon another gate. This time it was a reinforced steel gate, with a modern guardhouse attached. Rachel could see two other Gurkha guards staring out the window as the imposing gate silently rolled to the side, revealing yet another long driveway, this one paved in gravel. As the car rolled along, its tires crunching against the loose gray pebbles, the thick greenery gave way to a handsome avenue of tall palms that bisected rolling parklands. There were perhaps thirty palm trees perfectly lined up along both sides of the driveway, and someone had carefully placed tall rectangular lanterns lit with candles under each palm, like glowing sentinels leading the way.
As the car headed up the driveway, Rachel looked out in wonder at the flickering lanterns and the vast manicured grounds around her. “What park is this?” she asked Peik Lin.
“I have no idea.”
“Is this all one housing development? It looks like we’re entering a Club Med resort.”
“I’m not sure. I’ve never seen a place like this in all of Singapore. It doesn’t even feel like we’re in Singapore anymore,” Peik Lin said in amazement. The whole landscape reminded her of the stately country estates she had visited in England, like Chatsworth or Blenheim Palace. As the car rounded one last curve, Rachel suddenly let out a gasp, grabbing Peik Lin’s arm. In the distance, a great house had come into view, ablaze with lights. As they got closer, the enormity of the place truly became evident. It wasn’t a house. It was more like a palace. The front driveway was lined with cars, almost all of which were large and European—Mercedes, Jaguars, Citroëns, Rolls-Royces, many with diplomatic medallions and flags. A cluster of chauffeurs loitered in a circle behind the cars, smoking. Waiting by the massive front doors in a white linen shirt and tan slacks, hair perfectly tousled and hands pensively shoved into his pockets, stood Nick.
“I feel like I’m dreaming. This can’t be real,” Peik Lin said.
“Oh Peik Lin, who are these people?” Rachel asked nervously.
For the first time in her life, Peik Lin was at a loss for words. She stared at Rachel with a sudden intensity, and then she said, almost in a whisper, “I have no idea who these people are. But I can tell you one thing—these people are richer than God.”
* * *
* Peranakan dessert cakes. These addictive, delicately flavored, and colorful kuehs, or cakes, usually made of rice flour and the distinctive pandan-leaf flavoring, are a beloved teatime staple in Singapore.
1
Astrid
SINGAPORE
Cassian was just being buttoned into his smart new Prussian-blue sailor suit when Astrid got a call from her husband.
“I have to work late and won’t make it in time for dinner at Ah Ma’s.”
“Really? Michael, you’ve worked late every single night this week,” Astrid said, trying to maintain a neutral tone.
“The whole team is staying late.”
“On a Friday night?” She didn’t mean to give away any indications of doubt, but the words came out before she could stop herself. Now that her eyes were wide open, the signs were all there—he had canceled on almost every family occasion over the past few months.
“Yes. I’ve told you before, this is how it is at a start-up,” Michael added warily.
Astrid wanted to call his bluff. “Well, why don’t you join us whenever you get off work? It’s probably going to be a late night. Ah Ma’s tan hua flowers are going to bloom tonight, and she’s invited some people over.”
“Even more reason for me not to be there. I’m going to be much too worn out.”
“Come on, it’s going to be a special occasion. You know it’s awfully good luck to witness the flowers bloom, and it will be so much fun,” Astrid said, struggling to keep the tone light.
“I was there the last time they bloomed three years ago, and I just don’t think I can deal with a big crowd tonight.”
“Oh, I don’t think it’s going to be that big a crowd.”
“You always say that and then we get there and it turns out to be a sit-down dinner for fifty, and some bloody MP is there, or there’s some other sideshow distraction,” Michael complained.
“That’s not true.”
“Come on lah, you know it’s true. Last time we had to sit through a whole piano recital by that Ling Ling guy.”
“Michael, it’s Lang Lang, and you’re probably the only person in the world who doesn’t appreciate a private concert by one of the world’s top pianists.”
“Well, it was damn lay chay,* especially on a Friday night when I’m exhausted from the long week.”
Astrid decided that it wasn’t worth pushing him any further. He obviously had a thousand ready excuses not to be at dinner. What was he really up to? Was the texting slut from Hong Kong suddenly in town? Was he going to hook up with her?
“Okay, I’ll tell the cook to make you something when you get home. What do you feel like eating?” she offered cheerily.
“No, no, don’t bother. I’m sure we’ll be ordering food here.”
A likely story. Astrid hung up the phone reluctantly. Where was he going to order the food? From room service at some cheap hotel in Geylang? There was no way he could meet this girl at a decent hotel—someone was bound to recognize him. She remembered a time not long ago when Michael would be so sweetly apologetic for missing any family occasion. He would say soothing things like, “Honey, I’m soooo sorry I can’t make it. Are you sure you’ll be okay going on your own?” But that gentler side of him had dissipated. When exactly did that happen? And why had it taken her so long to notice the signals?
Ever since that day at Stephen Chia Jewels, Astrid had experienced a catharsis of sorts. In some perverse way, she was relieved to have proof of her husband’s unfaithfulness. It was the uncertainty of it all—the cloak-and-dagger suspicions—that had been killing her. Now she could, as a psychologist might say, “learn to accept and learn to adapt.” She could concentrate on the bigger picture. Sooner or later the fling would be over and life would go on, as
it did for the millions of wives who quietly endured their husbands’ infidelities since time immemorial.
There would be no need for fights, no hysterical confrontations. That would be much too cliché, even though every silly thing her husband had done could have come straight out of one of those “Is My Husband Cheating on Me?” quizzes from some cheesy women’s magazine: Has your husband been going on more business trips lately? Check. Are you making love less frequently? Check. Has your husband incurred mysterious expenses with no explanation? Double check. She could add a new line to the quiz: Is your husband getting text messages late at night from some girl proclaiming to miss his fat cock? CHECK. Astrid’s head was beginning to spin again. She could feel her blood pressure rise. She needed to sit down for a minute and take a few deep breaths. Why had she missed yoga all week, when she so badly needed to release the tension that had been building up? Stop. Stop. Stop. She needed to put all this out of her mind and just be in the moment. Right now, in this moment, she needed to get ready for Ah Ma’s party.
Astrid noticed her reflection in the glass coffee table and decided to change her outfit. She was wearing an old favorite—a gauzy black tunic dress by Ann Demeulemeester, but she felt like she needed to turn up the volume tonight. She was not going to let Michael’s absence ruin her night. She was not going to spend one more second thinking about where he could possibly be going, what he might or might not be doing. She was determined that this would be a magical night of wild blooming flowers under the stars, and that only good things would happen. Good things always happened at Ah Ma’s.
She went into the spare bedroom, which had basically become an extra closet for her overflow of clothes (and this didn’t even include the rooms upon rooms of clothes she still kept at her parents’ house). The space was filled with metal rolling racks on which garment bags of outfits had been meticulously organized by season and color, and Astrid had to move one of the racks into the hallway in order to fit comfortably into the room. This apartment was much too tiny for the family of three (four if you counted the nanny, Evangeline, who slept in Cassian’s room), but she had made the best of it for the sake of her husband.