Aunty Lee's Chilled Revenge

by Ovidia Yu

  “I don’t think so. They didn’t really stay in touch. Allie used to get very upset with Vallerie for being such a mess. She was so organized herself.”

  “What kind of a mess?” Aunty Lee wondered. She had assumed Vallerie Love’s mood swings were due to the shock of her sister’s death, but had she always been that way?

  “Her weight for one thing. And her refusing to come back to England for our wedding.”

  “So you really don’t know her very well? They weren’t close?”

  “They must have been once. If you look at their baby pictures, you’ll see how alike they were. If you compare the photos of Allison at five years old and Vallerie at the same age, it’s difficult to tell which was which. And just to complicate things their mother used to dress Vallerie in Allison’s old clothes. You know how fast children grow, and Vallerie was just over a year younger, so I suppose that was natural. But then of course Vallerie started getting fatter and fatter, until they had to buy new things for her because she couldn’t fit into Allison’s old clothes. And Allison refused to wear fat-girl clothes, so from then on it was two sets of everything for them. Not so different from having a boy and a girl, I suppose.”

  Aunty Lee wondered whether the young Vallerie Love had deliberately used her size to get out from under her sister’s shadow. She had heard of women who deliberately starved themselves skinny because their bodies were the only things they had any control over (some of them seemed to think they looked good as skeletons, but did anyone believe that?). Had Vallerie Love done the reverse, asserting control by growing larger than her sister? It did not feel likely, but Aunty Lee would have to think about it. In her experience, unless there was already something wrong with your body, giving yourself free rein to eat as much of everything available usually resulted in more discrimination and less indulgence. Animals overeat because they are conditioned to eating to excess after a kill and then fasting till the next successful hunt. Humans overeat because they remember scarcity in their past and fear it in their future. But if these fears were laid to rest, the human body was very good at detecting and selecting what it needed and in the quantities needed.

  But Mike Fitzgerald did not look like he needed a lecture on Aunty Lee’s pet topics of eating and appetites. Old photos taken at the height of the puppy-killing furor had showed a slightly overweight, slump-shouldered man. But now, despite his thinning hair, he looked better than he had five years ago.

  Aunty Lee wanted to believe Mike Fitzgerald. She had nothing staked on him, but Josephine did and Aunty Lee was fond of Josephine, even if the girl had made some doubtful choices along the way. Still, she had survived and that was the main thing. Aunty Lee was not in favor of staying with safe choices. It would be like eating nothing but rice and steamed egg and spinach soup day after day after day. And given how many other things there were in Singapore to eat, that was an almost criminal waste.

  “You could meet up with Vallerie,” Aunty Lee suggested. “Show her that you are not a monster after all. If all she knows about you came from her sister, I’m not surprised she doesn’t trust you.”

  “What’s the point? Now that Allison’s dead it doesn’t matter what her sister thinks of him!” Josephine snapped. “Once this is taken care of, Mike and I can get married and everything will be all right.”

  “Right. We’ll get a license or whatever once this is sorted out.”

  Josephine was glad Mike raised no objection to the mention of their marriage and said nothing about his lack of enthusiasm.

  “No,” said Aunty Lee. “If you are going to marry Josephine you should do it properly. You may have been married before, but this will be Josephine’s first time. This is something that she is going to remember all her life. And if you are going to marry her, all her friends and family in Singapore are going to want to take a good look at you. That is what the wedding is really for. I think you better marry her here so we don’t all have to fly over to England and find hotels.”

  Mike Fitzgerald looked uncomfortable, verging on overwhelmed. “It’s no big deal—”

  “Josephine should have warned you about Singaporeans,” Aunty Lee said. “You can’t just marry one. You end up marrying us all!”

  16

  Usual Suspects

  “So, all the usual suspects are here!” Brian Wong said jovially as he joined their table that evening. As usual he was the last to arrive, and he slipped in beside Cherril. “Mycroft not coming? I’ll sit here then.” He nodded to Mike. “Good to see you again.”

  “We started first,” Aunty Lee said, stating the obvious.

  “Of course! I would have been upset if you’d waited!”

  Dinner in the café was served family style that night, with everyone helping themselves from serving dishes placed at the center of their table. Nina and Lisa, one of the part-time helpers, served them and the two other tables of paying guests. Out of consideration for Mike, Aunty Lee had ordered relatively bland dishes—a chicken stewed in soy sauce and ginger, a steamed pomfret, steamed shiitake mushrooms and baby kai-lans, and battered fried prawns. But from the relish with which Mike dunked his crispy-coated prawns in her sweet-and-sour chili sauce, Aunty Lee thought she could have gone with a more adventurous menu. Her mind had been dwelling on whether to try him on black pepper crab or chili crab when Brian arrived. After all, how a man ate his crab (and whether he had the tenacity to dig the sweetest meat out of the claw tips) showed so much about his character.

  Inspector Salim nodded to Brian before continuing his conversation with Mike. “Your wife’s sister, Vallerie, has been staying at Mrs. Lee’s place. You haven’t seen her yet?”

  “No. I was hoping Vallerie would be here tonight actually. I haven’t seen her since Allison and I split up.”

  “Have you any idea why she might want to avoid you?”

  “Is she? Good for her. But seriously, we didn’t have a problem before all this happened. Vall came to stay with us when I was posted here. Didn’t stay very long, but it wasn’t me she had trouble with.” Mike shook his head. “But some sisters are like that. Someone gave us some moon cakes, the ones with lotus seed paste inside. Allison liked them, but she would only allow herself one tiny sliver at a time. Then Vall came and picked up a whole cake and took a bite out of it. Allison completely lost it. She screamed at her, called her fat and disgusting, told her she was ashamed to be seen with her. Vall left the day after that. I didn’t blame her.”

  “Over a moon cake.” Aunty Lee had to check: “Was it that good?”

  “I’ve had better.”

  “She sounds like she had real problems,” Brian said. “Psychological, I mean.” Aunty Lee looked at him curiously, waiting for more. But it appeared that Brian was using “psychological” to mean crazy beyond explanation.

  “My late wife always had trouble letting things go. Like she picked on Vall for being fat because when they were children Vall was the fat sister. By the time I met her, she wasn’t so big, but to Allison she was always the fat sister, and I got the impression Allison resented her losing weight because she was supposed to be the ‘fat sister.’”

  “She’s fat again now,” Josephine said. “Maybe the stress brought it back.”

  “Same thing with Allison. I believe it was the stress of what happened in Singapore that pushed her over the edge. She saw it as an attack. All of you, all of Singapore, had attacked her and nobody was on her side. I brought her to doctors who suggested Allison might be bipolar, but there was no sign of that before the dog incident.”

  “And yet now you are marrying Josephine, who helped push your wife over that edge?” Aunty Lee said, handing him a platter of fried chicken with pineapple and sweet chili sauce.

  “It wasn’t Josephine’s fault.” Mike took the chicken automatically and gestured with it. “Josephine is very special, but we’re not talking about getting married any time soon. Someday, sure, but right now I just want to try to be a good father and make up to my kids for what they had to go thr
ough.”

  “Hey, careful!” Salim steadied the plate Josephine was taking from Mike just in time to avoid his being showered with crispy chicken bits.

  Mike didn’t notice. “Another factor was how difficult Allison found readapting to life back in England. And the children made it worse. They weren’t used to living without a maid and a driver, without two cars and the best of everything. There was a lot less money, of course. Allison wanted me to get another expat posting, anywhere other than Singapore. When that didn’t happen she said the Animal ReHomers had got me internationally blacklisted. She was ranting against Singapore to everybody—friends, neighbors, strangers at the bus stop.”

  “What did she say was wrong with how people do things here?” Aunty Lee was curious. Criticism often revealed more about the complainer than what was complained about.

  “Everything.” Mike sounded suddenly weary.

  “Hey, enough talk about Allison,” Josephine said firmly. “We’re all sorry she’s dead, but talking about her is not going to bring her back. Hold out your plate, I peeled these prawns for you.”

  Aunty Lee remembered the “today peel your prawns, tomorrow peel your wallet” warning against overly solicitous women. Surely that did not apply to Josephine (especially as Mike did not appear to have a wallet worth peeling). But it was clear Josephine had the situation—and the man—well in hand. It didn’t matter that Mike was not intending to get married again soon. It really wasn’t up to him. But something about how carelessly Brian had greeted Mike puzzled her. She turned to him. “You already met Mike this trip?”

  “What makes you think so?” They all saw Brian’s quick, guilty glance at Josephine. The man was either a bad actor or a very good one.

  “Have you?” Salim questioned. He might not be as good as Aunty Lee at sniffing out things, but like the best rat-catching dogs, once set on a scent he followed through.

  “Mike arranged to meet to talk about sponsoring a child’s school fees in Batam,” Brian explained. “It’s one of the projects I’m currently working on. Batam is so near Singapore, but some people there can’t even afford basic education for their children.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” It was unclear whether Josephine’s question was directed at Brian or Mike, but both men looked guilty.

  “It was just a briefing on the project,” Brian said.

  “I don’t have any money to sponsor a kid with right now anyway,” Mike said.

  “Do you mind very much?” Aunty Lee asked Brian quietly when he came round to thank her and say good-bye. “About Josephine and that man? I used to think that you and Josephine would end up together.”

  Brian smiled. Aunty Lee was glad he did not pretend not to know what she was talking about. “People change, you know. I was in love with Josephine once upon a time, but now I think I’m almost scared of her. I don’t think I could keep up. Good luck to Mike!”

  And good luck to Brian too, Aunty Lee thought. He was putting a brave face on things, but she doubted he was as over Josephine as he wanted her to think.

  “Do you think Mike Fitzgerald is a murderer?” Salim asked after the other guests had left.

  “I don’t think he would be a successful murderer,” Aunty Lee said thoughtfully. Mike Fitzgerald was the kind of man single women considered ideal husband material (educated, solvent, social), but who would probably bore his wife to death once married. Even if he had not killed his wife, Aunty Lee thought being married to him had definitely contributed to her breakdown.

  Back at 88 Binjai Park, Aunty Lee walked slowly into the house while Nina parked the car and went to lock the gate. She was tired and wanted to think over the evening’s conversation. But first she had to make sure her guest was all right. Vallerie had flatly and loudly refused to meet Mike Fitzgerald over dinner, repeating herself several times though it had been floated as a suggestion only once. Aunty Lee could tell there was real fear beneath Vallerie’s almost theatrical anger, but found it difficult to believe it had been inspired by the man they had just met.

  “Don’t get involved with her, she can’t be trusted,” Selina warned Aunty Lee that afternoon. Unexpectedly, she was referring to Josephine DelaVega rather than Vallerie. Selina’s distrust of Josephine appeared to have begun years ago in their schooldays. “She’s one of those that puts on an ang moh accent when talking to ang moh men.” Aunty Lee had observed that for herself that night. “You can’t trust people who fake accents,” Selina had said.

  Selina had offered to take Vallerie out to dinner that night. The two were getting along well, perhaps due to their shared dislike of Josephine. Selina had supported Vallerie’s refusal to meet Mike over dinner, agreeing it was dangerous, even though Salim’s sitting down to eat with them should have precluded Mike murdering anybody at least during the meal. Selina and Mark had taken Vallerie out to dinner at a steak house, something Aunty Lee appreciated very much.

  And why wouldn’t Vallerie want to avoid the man? Given her sister’s divorce and death, she would naturally be biased against the ex-husband she saw as the cause. The vehemence of her feelings was surprising given the sisters had not been close, according to Vallerie. Guilt, Aunty Lee decided. Guilt for having moved across the ocean to America instead of being there for Allison when her sister needed her. And guilt always led to anger.

  Aunty Lee was quite pleased with her psychological deductions. During her early convalescence, Nina had tried to read her to sleep out of random tomes in the late ML Lee’s library, and some passages on sibling rivalry had led to Aunty Lee feeling quite an expert on the subject. She was almost certain now that Mark’s irresponsible approach to life was due to jealousy of his high-achieving sister, the overindulgence of his late father, or his fear of usurpation in his father’s eyes by Aunty Lee and any children she might produce. These theories had been comforting rather than useful after Mark proclaimed his latest venture: photography. More accurately, photographic history—documenting and digitizing history as it happened. He would be appreciated and celebrated in five hundred years’ time after all other documentation of our time had been lost, Mark said. He certainly seemed inspired and committed. Aunty Lee would probably have been more impressed if she had not already seen him express the same degree of inspiration and commitment for his wine business that was to revolutionize the Singaporean palate and, before that, his travel business that was to turn holiday seeking into voyages of shared self-discovery.

  Mark had, of course, been put out by her refusal to hand over what he considered his money, but he had gotten over it in a day or two. Selina had been offended into boycotting Aunty Lee’s Delights and (when that was not remarked on) sending friends to tell Aunty Lee how upset Mark was. But since those friends met Mark at the café (he still turned up for a free lunch or dinner several times a week), the effect was lost. Selina had only started coming around after Aunty Lee’s fall and ankle injury, so that had at least brought about some family reconciliation.

  Aunty Lee’s real reason for refusing Mark another advance on his inheritance was that she wanted Mark and Mathilda to have something when she died. Because Aunty Lee had financed so many of his schemes, Mark had already gone through his share of the estate. Were it not for what Aunty Lee had brought to the marriage, there would have been little left for him. His late father would likely have been far stricter. And it was not fair to Mathilda. Aunty Lee was very fond of Mathilda. She was also much closer to her, perhaps because Mathilda lived so far away. Distance definitely made relatives grow fonder.

  And that might explain why Vallerie had come to feel closer to Allison after moving away from her family and England. No matter how she had felt growing up as the overlooked sibling of a popular elder sister, it must have been easier for her to take her sister’s side when she was no longer living in the same house or the same country . . . indeed, even more so when that sister was no longer living.

  Perhaps it was because Aunty Lee sympathized with that, or perhaps she was feeling uncharacteris
tically low and lonely. Rather than restoring her, her enforced “rest” drained her of energy, leaving her miserably sluggish in mood and circulation.

  Though Mark and Selina had bought Vallerie a good dinner (Selina had texted Aunty Lee, V was starving! Must show you receipt! when she dropped her back at the house), there were empty packets of crisps and a tub of ice cream on the coffee table in front of the living room television. Vallerie was not there, but Aunty Lee heard her upstairs. She sounded like she was in ML’s study, talking in tones that suggested she was giving detailed instructions to a recalcitrant child.

  “Calling home?” she called out pleasantly.

  “It’s the television,” Vallerie lied immediately and badly. Aunty Lee looked at the muted downstairs television, no doubt where Vallerie had started the phone call. But she didn’t say anything about that when Vallerie came downstairs and sat heavily on the sofa, not looking at Aunty Lee.

  “I know how you feel.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “You’re unhappy and angry and looking for somebody to blame. I know the feeling. After my late husband died I was angry with the doctors for not keeping him alive, angry with myself for not being dead, even angry with his ancestors for not giving him better genes! Sometimes I can understand why people commit suicide or take to drinking. You just want to stop the voices inside your head that are blaming, blaming, blaming nonstop.”

  Vallerie looked surprised but did not contradict Aunty Lee. Aunty Lee saw that whatever Vallerie was hiding, it was not grief at her sister’s loss—and that she was happy to have Aunty Lee believe it was.

  “Mike Fitzgerald sends you his regards. He said he was hoping to meet up with you.”

  Aunty Lee saw at once it was not just shock, grief, or post-traumatic stress syndrome that was troubling Vallerie. Vallerie was afraid of Mike; even hearing the man’s name made her wince.

  “There’s no reason why he would attack you,” Aunty Lee said, “even if he attacked your sister—which we don’t know he did. Wouldn’t he just want you to leave him alone to get on with his new life?” From everything Aunty Lee had heard of the late Allison Love, it seemed much more likely that she would have been the one unable to let go.