by Kevin Kwan
The sultana reached for her bejeweled handbag and pulled out an embroidered lace handkerchief. “Will you please autograph this?” she asked Kitty expectantly.
“Your Majesticness, it would be my pleasure!” Kitty beamed.
The sultana turned to Shang Su Yi, who had been surveying the whole exchange with bemused interest. “This is your grandson’s fiancée? How delightful. Be sure you invite me to the wedding!” The sultana began to wiggle off one of the three humongous diamond rings on her left hand and handed it to Kitty, as the ladies looked on in horror. “Congratulations on your engagement—this is for you. Taniah dan semoga kamu gembira selalu.”†
The farther Nick and Rachel walked from the great lawn, the more the park began to change. The strains of the string ensemble gave way to birds with strangely hypnotic chirps as they entered a pathway shaded by the sprawling branches of two-hundred-year-old Angsana trees. “I love it over here—it’s like we’re on a whole other island,” Rachel said, savoring the cool relief underneath the lush canopy.
“I love it here too. We’re in the oldest part of the park, an area that’s sacred to the Malays,” Nick explained quietly. “You know, back when the island was called Singapura and was part of the ancient Majapahit empire, this is where they built a shrine to the last king.”
“ ‘The Last King of Singapura.’ Sounds like a movie. Why don’t you write the screenplay?” Rachel remarked.
“Ha! I think it’ll draw an audience of about four,” Nick replied.
They reached a clearing in the pathway, and a small colonial-era structure covered in moss came into view. “Whoa—is this the shrine?” Rachel asked, lowering her voice.
“No, this is the gatehouse. When the British came in the nineteenth century, they built a fort here,” Nick explained as they approached the structure and the pair of massive iron doors under the archway. The doors were wide open, flush against the inner wall of the tunnel-like gatehouse, and Nick slowly pulled on one of the heavy doors, revealing a dark narrow entrance cut into the thick stonework, and beyond it the steps leading to the roof of the gatehouse.
“Welcome to my hideout,” Nick whispered, his voice echoing in the tight stairway.
“Is it safe to go up?” Rachel asked, assessing steps that looked like they hadn’t been treaded on in decades.
“Of course. I used to come up here all the time,” Nick said, bounding up the steps eagerly. “Come on!”
Rachel followed gingerly, taking care not to rub any part of her pristine dress against the dirt-caked stairway. The roof was covered in freshly fallen leaves, gnarled tree branches, and the remnants of an old cannon. “Pretty cool, isn’t it? At one point, there were more than sixty cannons lining the battlements of the fort. Come take a look at this!” Nick said excitedly as he disappeared around the corner. Rachel could hear the schoolboy adventurer in his voice. Along the south wall, someone had scrawled long vertical lines of Chinese characters in what looked like a muddy-brown color. “Written with blood,” Nick said in a hushed voice.
Rachel stared at the characters in amazement. “I can’t make them out … it’s so faded, and it’s that old form of Chinese. What do you think happened?”
“We used to make up theories about it. The one I came up with was that some poor prisoner was chained here and left to die by Japanese soldiers.”
“I’m getting sort of creeped out,” Rachel said, shaking off a sudden chill.
“Well, you wanted to see the proverbial ‘sacred cave.’ This is as close to it as you’re going to get. I used to bring my girlfriends up here to make out after Sunday school. This is where I had my first kiss,” Nick announced brightly.
“Of course it is. I couldn’t imagine a more eerily romantic hideout,” Rachel said.
Nick pulled Rachel closer. She thought they were about to kiss, but Nick’s expression seemed to shift into a more serious mode. He thought of the way she looked earlier that morning, with the light streaming in through the stained-glass windows and glinting on her hair.
“You know, when I saw you in the church today sitting with my family, do you know what I thought?”
Rachel could feel her heart suddenly begin to race. “Whh … what?”
Nick paused, gazing deeply into her eyes. “This feeling came over me, and I just knew tha—”
The sound of someone coming up the stairs suddenly interrupted them, and they broke away from their embrace. A ravishing girl with a short-cropped Jean Seberg hairstyle appeared at the top of the stairs, and behind her shuffled a portly Caucasian man. Rachel immediately recognized the hand-painted Dries Van Noten dress from Patric’s atelier that the girl was wearing.
“Mandy!” Nick gasped in surprise.
“Nico!” the girl replied with a smile.
“What are you doing here?”
“What do you think I’m doing here, silly rabbit? I had to escape from that taaaaacky reception. Did you see that ghastly giant teapot? I half expected it to get up and start singing in Angela Lansbury’s voice,” she said, shifting her gaze onto Rachel.
Great. Another Singapore girl with a posh English accent, Rachel thought.
“Where are my manners?” Nick quickly recovered. “Rachel, this is Amanda Ling. You might remember meeting her mum, Jacqueline, the other night at Ah Ma’s.”
Rachel smiled and extended her hand.
“And this is Zvi Goldberg,” Mandy reciprocated. Zvi nodded quickly, still trying to catch his breath. “Well, I came up here to show Zvi the place where I received my first kiss. And would you believe it, Zvi, the boy who kissed me is standing right before us,” Mandy said, looking straight at Nick.
Rachel turned to Nick with a raised eyebrow. His cheeks were bright red.
“You gotta be kidding! You guys plan this reunion or something?” Zvi cracked.
“Swear to God we didn’t. This is a complete coincidence,” Mandy declared.
“Yes, I thought you were dead set against coming to the wedding,” Nick said.
“Well, I changed my mind at the last minute. Especially since Zvi has this fabulous new plane that can zip around so quickly—our flight from New York only took fifteen hours!”
“Oh, you live in New York too?” Rachel inquired.
“Yes, I do. What, has Nico never mentioned me to you? Nico, I’m so hurt,” Mandy said in mock outrage. She turned to Rachel with a placid smile. “I feel like I have an unfair advantage, since I’ve heard loads about you.”
“You have?” Rachel couldn’t hide her look of surprise. Why had Nick never once mentioned this friend of his, this beautiful girl who inexplicably kept calling him Nico? Rachel gave Nick a measured look, but he simply smiled back, oblivious to the nagging thoughts filling her mind.
“Well, I suppose we ought to get back to the reception,” Mandy suggested. As the foursome made their way toward the stairs, Mandy halted abruptly. “Oh look, Nico. I can’t believe it—it’s still here!” She traced her fingers over a section of the wall right beside the staircase.
Rachel peered at the wall and saw the names Nico and Mandi carved into the rock, joined together by an infinity symbol.
* * *
* Cantonese for “great-aunt.”
† Malay for “Congratulations and best wishes.”
6
Tyersall Park
SINGAPORE
Alexandra walked onto the veranda to find her sister, Victoria, and her daughter-in-law, Fiona, having afternoon tea with her mother. Victoria looked rather comical with a dramatic opera-length necklace of mine-cut cognac diamonds casually draped over her gingham shirt. Obviously, Mummy was doling out jewelry again, something she seemed to be doing with greater frequency these days.
“I’ve been labeling every piece in the vault and putting them in cases marked with all your names,” Su Yi had informed Alexandra during her visit last year. “This way there is no fighting after I’m gone.”
“There won’t be any fighting, Mummy,” Alexandra had insisted.
<
br /> “You say that now. But look what happened to Madam Lim Boon Peck’s family. Or the Hu sisters. Whole families torn apart over jewelry. And not even very good jewelry!” Su Yi had sighed.
As Alexandra approached the wrought-iron table where sweetly aromatic kueh lapis* and pineapple tarts were arrayed on Longquan celadon dishes, Su Yi was taking out a diamond and cabochon sapphire choker. “This one my father brought back from Shanghai in 1918,” Su Yi said to Fiona in Cantonese. “My mother told me it belonged to a grand duchess who had escaped Russia on the Trans-Siberian Railway with all her jewels sewn into the lining of her coat. Here, try it on.”
Fiona put the choker around her neck, and one of Su Yi’s Thai lady’s maids helped to fasten the delicate antique clasp. The other maid held up a hand mirror, and Fiona peered at her reflection. Even in the waning late-afternoon light, the sapphires glistened against her neck. “It’s truly exquisite, Ah Ma.”
“I’ve always liked it because these sapphires are so translucent—I’ve never quite seen a shade of blue like that,” Su Yi said.
Fiona handed back the necklace, and Su Yi slipped it into a yellow silk pouch before handing it to Fiona. “Nah, you should wear it tonight to the wedding banquet.”
“Oh, Ah Ma, I couldn’t possibly—” Fiona began.
“Aiyah, moh hak hei,† it’s yours now. Make sure it goes to Kalliste someday,” Su Yi decreed. She turned to Alexandra and said, “Do you need something for tonight?”
Alexandra shook her head. “I brought my triple-strand pearls.”
“You always wear those pearls,” Victoria complained, casually twirling her new diamonds around her fingers as if they were toy beads.
“I like my pearls. Besides, I don’t want to look like one of those Khoo women. Did you see how much jewelry they piled on this morning? Ridiculous.”
“Those Khoos sure like to flaunt it, don’t they,” Victoria said with a laugh, popping one of the crumbly pineapple tarts into her mouth.
“Aiyah, who cares? Khoo Teck Fong’s father came from a little village in Sarawak—I will always know him as the man who used to buy my mother’s old silver,” Su Yi said dismissively. “Now, speaking of jewelry, I want to talk about Alistair’s girlfriend—that starlet.”
Alexandra flinched, steeling herself for the onslaught. “Yes, Mummy, I’m sure you were as appalled as I was by that woman’s behavior today.”
“The audacity of her to accept that ring from the sultana! It was so undignified, not to mention—” Victoria began.
Su Yi held out her hand to silence Victoria. “Why wasn’t I told that Alistair was engaged to her?”
“It just happened a few days ago,” Alexandra said bleakly.
“But who is she? Who are her people?”
“I don’t know precisely,” Alexandra said.
“How is it possible that you don’t know the family, when your son wants to take her as his wife?” Su Yi said in astonishment. “Look at Fiona here—we have known her family for generations. Fiona, do you know this girl’s family?”
Fiona grimaced, making no attempt to hide her disdain. “Ah Ma, I never set eyes on her until two days ago at Auntie Felicity’s.”
“Cassandra told me the girl showed up at Felicity’s wearing a see-through dress. Is that true?” Su Yi asked.
“Yes,” the three ladies droned in unison.
“Tien,‡ ah, what is this world coming to?” Su Yi shook her head, taking a slow sip from her teacup.
“Clearly the girl has not been brought up well,” Victoria said.
“She’s not been brought up at all. She’s not Taiwanese, even though she claims to be, and she’s certainly not from Hong Kong. I’ve heard that she is from some remote village in northern China,” Fiona offered.
“Tsk, those northern Chinese are the worst!” Victoria huffed, nibbling on a slice of kueh lapis.
“Where she’s from is irrelevant. My youngest grandson is not going to marry some actress, especially one of questionable lineage,” Su Yi said simply. Turning to Alexandra, she said, “You will tell him to break off the engagement immediately.”
“His father has agreed to talk to him when we return to Hong Kong.”
“I don’t think that will be soon enough, Alix. The girl needs to be sent packing before she does something more offensive. I can only imagine what she’s going to wear to the ball tonight,” Victoria said.
“Well, what about Rachel, that girlfriend of Nicky’s?” Alexandra said, trying to deflect the focus from her son.
“What about her?” Su Yi asked, puzzled.
“Aren’t you concerned about her as well? I mean, we know nothing of her family.”
“Aiyah, she’s just a pretty girl that Nicky’s having fun with.” Su Yi laughed, as if the idea of him marrying Rachel was too ridiculous to even consider.
“That’s not the way it looks to me,” Alexandra warned.
“Nonsense. Nicky has no intentions with this girl—he told me so himself. And besides, he would never do anything without my permission. Alistair simply needs to obey your wishes,” Su Yi said with finality.
“Mummy, I’m not sure it’s that simple. That boy can be so stubborn. I tried to get him to stop dating her months ago, but—” Alexandra began.
“Alix, why don’t you just threaten to cut him off? Stop his allowance or something,” Victoria suggested.
“Allowance? He doesn’t get an allowance. Alistair isn’t concerned about money—he supports himself with those odd jobs on films, so he has always done exactly as he pleases.”
“You know, Alistair might not care about money, but I’ll bet you that trollop does,” Victoria expostulated. “Alix, you need to give her a good talking-to. Make her understand that it is impossible for her to marry Alistair, and that you will cut him off forever if she does.”
“I don’t know how I would even begin,” Alexandra said. “Why don’t you talk to her, Victoria? You’re so good at this sort of thing.”
“Me? Good grief, I don’t intend to exchange a single word with that girl!” Victoria declared.
“Tien, ah, you are all hopeless!” Su Yi groaned. Turning to one of her lady’s maids, she ordered, “Call Oliver T’sien. Tell him to come over right away.”
On the way home from the wedding reception, Nick had assured Rachel that his relationship with Mandy was ancient history. “We dated on and off till I was eighteen and went off to Oxford. It was puppy love. Now we’re just old friends who meet up every once in a while. You know, she lives in New York but we hardly ever meet—she’s way too busy going to A-list parties with that Zvi fellow,” Nick said.
Still, Rachel had sensed a distinctly territorial vibe coming from Mandy back at the fort, making her wonder if Mandy was truly over Nick. Now, as she was getting dressed for the most formal event she had ever been invited to, she wondered how she would compare to Mandy and all the other impossibly chic women in Nick’s orbit. She stood in front of the mirror, assessing herself. Her hair had been swept up into a loose French twist and pinned with three violet orchid blossoms, and she was wearing a midnight blue off-the-shoulder gown that draped elegantly across her hips before flaring out just above the knees into luxuriant folds of silk organza scattered with tiny freshwater pearls. She scarcely recognized herself.
There was a jaunty rap on the door. “Are you decent?” Nick called out.
“Yes, come in!” Rachel replied.
Nick opened the bedroom door and stopped dead in his tracks. “Oh wow!” he said.
“You like it?” Rachel asked bashfully.
“You look stunning,” Nick said, almost in a whisper.
“Do these flowers in my hair look silly?”
“Not at all.” Nick circled around her, admiring how the thousands of pearls shimmered like faraway stars. “It makes you look glamorous and exotic at the same time.”
“Thanks. You look pretty awesome yourself,” Rachel declared, admiring how utterly debonair Nick looked in his dinner jacket,
with its streamlined grosgrain lapels perfectly accentuating his crisp white bow tie.
“Ready for your carriage?” Nick asked, entwining his arm through hers in a courtly manner.
“I guess so,” Rachel said, exhaling deeply. As they walked out of the bedroom, little Augustine Cheng came racing down the corridor.
“Whoa, Augustine, you’re going to break your neck,” Nick said, stopping him in his tracks. The little boy looked terrified.
“What’s wrong, little man?” Nick asked.
“I need to hide.” Augustine was panting.
“Why?”
“Papa’s after me. I spilled Orange Fanta all over his new suit.”
“Oh no!” Rachel said, trying not to giggle.
“He said he was going to kill me,” the boy said, shaking, with tears in his eyes.
“Oh, he’ll get over it. Come with us. I’ll make sure your father doesn’t kill you.” Nick laughed, taking Augustine by the hand.
At the bottom of the stairs, Eddie was arguing in Cantonese with Ling Cheh, the head housekeeper, and Nasi, the head laundry maid, while Fiona stood next to him in her Weimaraner-gray evening gown looking exasperated.
“I’m telling you, this type of fabric needs to soak for a few hours if you want to get the stain out properly,” the head laundry maid explained.
“A few hours? But we need to be at the wedding ball by seven thirty! This is an emergency, do you understand?” Eddie shouted, glaring at the Malay woman as if she didn’t understand English.
“Eddie, there’s no need to raise your voice. She understands,” Fiona said.
“How many laundry maids does my grandmother keep? There must be at least ten of you! Don’t tell me you people can’t fix this right now,” Eddie complained to Ling Cheh.
“Eddieboy, even if there were twenty of them, there’s no way it will be ready for tonight,” Ling Cheh insisted.
“But what am I going to wear? I had this tux specially made for me in Milan! Do you know how much it cost me?”
“I’m sure it was very, very expensive. And that’s exactly why we need to be gentle and let the stain lift properly,” Ling Cheh said, shaking her head. Eddieboy had been a pompous little monster even when he was five.
