by H. Y. Hanna
She looked at Leah, her eyes flashing with remembered anger. “That nurse was there again, full of her patronising preaching, but I just ignored her and went over her head. I got some formula to feed you and, after a couple of days, you started to gain weight again and stopped crying all the time. Your mother got some sleep at last and seemed to finally be feeling more positive. I was hoping that when she went home, she could continue with the formula and things would keep improving.”
“Yes… it sounded like things were getting better?” said Leah.
Rose sighed. “I didn’t realise that Natalie was still getting pressure from this other nurse, who had had a baby herself a year ago and was very proud of the fact that she had breastfed for a whole year. She was completely unsympathetic to Natalie’s plight and used to say it was ‘disgusting’ when she saw Natalie feeding with the bottle. She was a bully, really, because how could anyone who had seen Natalie not have felt any pity for her? I remember walking in once and finding her sobbing as she tried to get you to latch onto her breasts and there was blood everywhere from her cracked nipples. And her chest was bruised from all the expressing that she had been trying to do earlier with the breast pump. She was practically mutilating herself in her desperate attempt to try and produce some breast milk.”
“That’s horrific!” said Julia.
Rose nodded. “After Natalie was discharged, I tried to visit more often, depending on my shifts. At first I thought that she was getting a bit better. They had given her a new breast pump and she seemed to be convinced that it would solve all her problems. But when she had trouble with that as well, it really tipped her over the edge. I tried to convince her that feeding Leah formula milk was fine, but she was inconsolable. She kept saying that she was a useless mother and that Leah was better off without her…”
Leah stiffened, bracing herself for the rest of the story.
Rose looked down and her voice dropped. “Your father came home one day to find you screaming in your crib. He rushed around looking for your mother—and found her in the bathroom. She had drawn a bath, got in the water, and then slit her wrists. She was still alive when he arrived and he tried everything to save her, but she had lost too much blood by then. She died in his arms, with you screaming in the crib next door.”
“Oh my God…” whispered Julia.
Leah reeled mentally from the harrowing picture that Rose’s words painted. She couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for her father to come home and find his wife like that. Suddenly she thought back to her memories of him, sitting in the dark with a glass of whiskey by his side. Was this why he had withdrawn from the world—even from his own daughter—and turned to the comfort of numbing alcohol?
“I’m sorry,” said Rose, her eyes troubled. “I hope I did the right thing by telling you. It’s only because I think you should know the truth about what happened. Especially if you were never told.”
“I don’t understand why my father never told me,” said Leah. “Why did he lie and always pretend that my mother had died giving birth to me?”
“Perhaps he didn’t want you to blame yourself,” said Rose. “It’s very common—children whose mothers suffer from postnatal depression often feel guilt and blame, because they feel like they were the reason that their mothers became depressed and suicidal. I think your father wanted to save you that pain.”
And yet David Fisher was not able, himself, to overcome the resentment he felt for the child who had torn his beloved wife from him, thought Leah, remembering her father’s cold, distant attitude towards her. Or perhaps it was simply that he couldn’t bear the pain of being near her, because she looked so much like Natalie Fisher. As she grew older and looked more like her mother each day, her very presence must have been a constant reminder to her father of the woman that he had loved and lost.
Maybe he couldn’t help it… maybe he had tried his best, thought Leah, remembering Ah Song’s words. She knew that in his own way, her father had loved her—from the little things like keeping her framed photo on his desk and saving the pictures she had drawn in childhood, to bigger things like writing those letters to her. Maybe even his hostile attitude towards Toran was simply an overprotective reaction.
Leah took a deep breath and looked back up at Rose. “I’m glad you told me, not just because I now know the truth about my mother, but also because it helps me understand my father better. As you said, he was a difficult man to get to know—and I don’t think I ever really knew him.” She felt a sudden tightness in her throat. “I wish now that I had spent more time with him, had a chance to know him better.”
Rose grasped both her hands. “Just remember that your father was a good man. Whatever else you might think of him, he was a good man who had suffered a lot of pain. But he loved you very much, I know.”
Leah swallowed hard. “I… I’ll try to remember that. And thank you for everything you did for my mother. I’m not surprised my father wanted to show his gratitude in some way.”
Rose nodded. “Yes, he said the payments were a small thank you, in your mother’s memory.”
Leah knew that there were more things she wanted to ask, especially questions about her mother. Here at last was someone who had known Natalie Fisher, who could fill in some of those gaps about the woman who had been so important and yet so absent all Leah’s life. But her mind was too full right now and she couldn’t take anything else in.
She stood up. “I… I hope you don’t mind but I think I need to go now. This has all been a shock for me and—”
“Of course, dear. I completely understand,” said Rose, rising as well.
“Would it be okay if I contacted you again sometime?” asked Leah. “I… I have a lot of questions about my mother and… it would be nice to speak to someone who knew her.”
Rose squeezed her hand. “Of course, anytime. I’ll give you my number so you can call me anytime and ask whatever you want.”
“Thank you.” Leah reached forward impulsively and gave Rose a hug. The old woman’s thin arms came around her shoulders and, for a moment, Leah almost felt like she had a tenuous link with her mother. Then she stepped back, gave Rose a tremulous smile, and turned to leave.
Julia didn’t speak much on the way back to the flat—she seemed to have been almost as shaken by Rose’s revelations as Leah—and Leah was glad. Her mind was whirling with everything she had learnt and she didn’t want to talk about anything at that point. They came out of Knightsbridge Tube station and walked the short distance to Aimee’s flat. They would have just enough time to pack before the taxi would arrive to take them to the airport.
After her conversation with Toran earlier, Leah had told Julia about her need to get back to Singapore and her friend had managed to get them on flights that night. Now Leah was briefly tempted to delay their departure. The enormity of what she had learnt was still throbbing in her head and a part of her wanted to just stay in Rose’s living room and do nothing but ask the retired midwife questions about her mother.
But she knew that there was unfinished business back in Singapore. As soon as she had a free moment, she would call Rose and speak to her again, Leah promised herself. In the meantime, she had to go back home.
CHAPTER 21
They arrived back in Singapore just as dusk was drawing in the next day. Leah peered out of the airplane windows, watching the sun set in the fiery sky and the lights of the city twinkling on beneath her. She had wondered how she would feel, returning to Singapore after the revelations that she had learned. But it was with a warm sense of homecoming that she felt the plane touch down on the landing strip and she heard the captain announce:
“Welcome to Singapore Changi Airport, where the local time is 5:36 p.m. The outside temperature is 30 degrees Celsius, with 94% humidity, and there is a chance of showers later this evening. Please wait until the seat belt lights are switched off before…”
And it was with an even greater sense of homecoming that she stepped out into the Ar
rivals Hall and saw Toran waiting in the crowd. A smiling Asian man detached himself from the space next to Toran and came hurrying forwards to help Julia with her bags. Leah barely heard Arnold asking her friend solicitously about her health as she walked slowly up to meet Toran. She tilted her head to look up at him. Somehow, she had forgotten how tall he was. He was wearing a crisp white cotton shirt open at the collar to show the tanned column of his neck and chest, and his dark, virile good looks were drawing lingering glances from many other women in the Arrivals hall.
Leah stopped in front of Toran and there was an awkward pause. She wondered wildly what she should do—hug him, kiss him… shake his hand? She had spent the flight anticipating this moment, but now that it was here and faced with his cool reception, she wasn’t sure what to do.
His green eyes were shuttered, his expression unreadable as he said, “Welcome back.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a hesitant smile. “It’s nice to be back.” She wanted to say, And I’ve missed you, but she didn’t dare. He might be here to meet her, but there was nothing in his manner to indicate how he felt about her. Suddenly he seemed to be the enigmatic stranger that she had met when she first returned to Singapore. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking and she didn’t know how she was supposed to behave with him. It was crazy, but suddenly she almost felt shy—as if she was meeting Toran again for the first time.
“Did you have a good flight?” asked Toran after a moment.
“Yes, a bit of turbulence, but it wasn’t bad.”
“Get any sleep?”
“A bit. And I watched a couple of movies.”
This is crazy, thought Leah. Were they just going to stand here exchanging inane pleasantries like two strangers at a tea party? She was relieved when Julia came up with Arnold in tow and interrupted them.
“Would you like a lift?” Julia asked. Her eyes darted from Leah to Toran and back again. “I can drop you at—”
“I’ll take Leah home,” said Toran suddenly.
Leah glanced at him. Home. What did he mean by that? Her father’s villa? Or his place?
Julia gave them another look, but all she said was, “Okay, I’ll see you soon then, Leah. Oh here,” she added, pulling the miniature bottle of deodorant out of her handbag and shoving it into Leah’s bag. “Don’t forget this.” She gave them both a wink. “Be good!” She turned and went off with Arnold.
Left alone, they stood awkwardly for another moment, then Toran took her case and strode towards the exits. Leah followed, hurrying to keep up with his long strides. Once in the Audi, she forced herself to relax against the luxurious leather seat and pretended to look out the window. The air between them simmered with tension. Finally, Leah could stand it no longer.
“They’re doing something down on Marina Boulevard,” she commented as the car cruised over the Esplanade Bridge, which crossed the mouth of the Singapore River where it emptied into Marina Bay.
“Yes,” said Toran. “There’s a big event on the day after tomorrow. The Singapore Celebration Parade. I think they’re closing the Boulevard off to all traffic and setting up stalls and performers around the marina. And there’ll be fireworks and other shows as well.”
“Oh… sounds like fun,” said Leah lamely.
They drove in silence again, until Leah noticed that they were taking the road which would lead eventually to Toran’s apartment, rather than the one that would take them to Tanglin, where her father’s villa was situated.
“You don’t… I don’t have to go back to the apartment,” she blurted out. “I don’t want to make you feel like you can’t come back to your own house. I know I’ve got some things there, but if you just drop me off at the Villa, I can come and get my things later—”
“Don’t be stupid,” said Toran curtly. “You are staying.”
Leah stole a glance at him. What did that mean? Would he be coming back to the apartment as well? They couldn’t live together, tiptoeing around each other like this, but surely they weren’t going to just continue as before with her living there alone and him staying away?
Toran glanced at her. “I thought I’d let you unpack, have a shower and a bit of a rest. I need to go back to Dieter’s place anyway to pick up a few things and speak to him about something. Then I’ve booked a table for us at the rooftop restaurant at Marina Bay Sands… if you’re not too tired to go out for dinner?”
“No, that sounds nice,” said Leah with an uncertain smile.
“Good. I’ll come back and pick you up at eight.” He paused, then added, “We need to talk.”
When they got to his exclusive residential complex, Toran stopped only long enough to help her take the case up to his penthouse apartment. Then the door shut quietly after him and Leah was left alone. She leaned back against the wall and let out a sigh, closing her eyes and relaxing properly for the first time. She felt absolutely drained by everything—the trip, what had happened in London, what she had found out about her mother, and now meeting Toran again.
We need to talk, Toran had said. It sounded ominous. Wasn’t that usually the phrase people used when they wanted to break up? But are we still together?
Leah rubbed her temples. She was starting to develop a headache. She pushed herself away from the wall and headed for the hot shower, determined to put everything out of her mind for the next few hours.
Leah was waiting nervously when Toran returned promptly at eight. She had agonised over how to dress for the dinner. To bolster her self-confidence, she had wanted to look her best, but at the same time, she didn’t want to look like she had gone to too much effort—in case Toran misinterpreted and thought she was trying to seduce him. In the end, she chose a simple sleeveless silk dress that skimmed her body and showed off her legs. Her hair was piled loosely on top of her head, secured with a diamanté clasp that sparkled amongst the brown curls, and a pair of silver drop earrings and high-heeled sandals completed the outfit. She saw Toran’s eyes darken appreciatively when he saw her and felt a thrill of pleasure.
“You look beautiful,” he said.
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” said Leah, eyeing him admiringly. Toran was wearing a navy shirt paired with dark grey slacks, the fine fabric of the shirt moulding to his broad shoulders and the cut of the trousers highlighting the muscular length of his legs. Combined with his dark good looks, the effect was compelling and, when they arrived at the restaurant, Leah saw many women turn their heads and follow Toran with their eyes.
They had pre-dinner cocktails first on the outdoor terrace, with a panoramic view of the Singapore skyline spread out below them. The restaurant was on the top floor of the Marina Bay Sands complex, looking out over the bay and the skyscrapers of the central business district. The lights of the city glittered like a galaxy of stars, strung out along the edge of the dark water, and the lit roads looped like a tangle of gold chains through the urban landscape.
Leah stood at the edge of the roof by the rail, sipping her cocktail and admiring the view. The wind was strong up here and she shivered slightly as the cool air brought goosebumps to her bare skin.
“Cold?” asked Toran, moving closer to her.
“A bit,” Leah admitted, rubbing one hand on the other arm.
Toran reached out, encircling her shoulders with one arm and pulling her gently into the shelter of his body. Leah stiffened in surprise, then relaxed slowly against him, moulding herself into the hard planes of his body from memory. Her senses were tingling with awareness. She was conscious of everything—the brush of his fingertips against her bare skin where his hand clasped her shoulder, the strength in his arm across her back, the warmth of his body through the fine cotton of his shirt, and the faint, tantalising scent of his aftershave. It would be so easy, she thought, to turn in his arms and reach for him. It was the kind of thing she wouldn’t have hesitated doing a few weeks ago—and yet now she was confused and unsure again. Did he feel this sizzling awareness between them, like she did? Had he reached out beca
use of a desire to touch her? Or was it simply a chivalrous gesture to protect her from the cold?
“We can go inside, if you like,” said Toran. His voice was steady, controlled, showing none of the turmoil that Leah was feeling.
Suddenly feeling the need to put some distance between them, Leah nodded and murmured, “Yes, maybe that’s a good idea. I’m starving anyway.”
His eyes searched hers for a moment, then he nodded and dropped his arm, turning to lead the way back inside. For a moment, Leah wished that she hadn’t said anything. It would have been nice to remain there, in the shelter of Toran’s arms, but she wanted to know that she belonged there, that he wanted her there. She took a deep breath and followed him into the restaurant.
CHAPTER 22
Inside the restaurant, they were greeted by a suave waiter and seated at an intimate table by the windows. Leah grabbed the menu and took refuge behind its pages. The restaurant was renowned for its “modern Asian” cuisine and the menu featured dishes like “Wok-fried Frog Legs with Ginger and Scallions” and “Foie Gras Shanghai Soup Dumplings”, the famous Shanghai soup dumplings given a French twist. Leah decided on the baked miso black cod with spring vegetables, lime, and ginger butter, whilst Toran ordered the charcoal grilled rib-eye steak with garlic oil and fresh herbs. To start, they decided to share the caviar platter, accompanied by miniature blinis.
As they waited for the food to arrive, Leah sat tensely, unable to meet Toran’s eyes and wondering when they were going to have “the talk”. She was relieved when he brought up his own investigation into his parents’ accident and jumped eagerly on the subject.
“So have the police reopened the case?”