by Ovidia Yu
Commissioner Raja stretched contentedly and felt a satisfying little burp rise. It had been a good lunch and it couldn’t hurt to tell his old friend how close her guess had come. “We found a possible source of the poison. There were containers of Algae Bomb under the food tables, against the wall.”
“And just one more thing,” Aunty Lee said. “Your officers must have talked to all the people working for the Sungs. There was a PRC woman there. I didn’t see her again after Mabel was found. Can you tell me who she is? I just want to make sure that she’s all right.”
Commissioner Raja gave Aunty Lee a sharp look, almost as though he distrusted her seemingly altruistic motives. “PRC domestic helpers are not allowed in Singapore. The Sungs’ two domestic workers are both nurses from the Philippines and they both quit already. The gardener is from Sri Lanka and doesn’t speak English. There was no PRC woman there.”
“Oh, maybe I was mistaken and she was a guest? I saw her talking to the Sungs’ doctor, Edmond Yong, so she may have been a nurse. Yes, she could have been an off-duty nurse. You know nurses and child-care workers always have that bossy exhausted air even when they are not working. If she was a nurse she would know all about poisoning people, right? Did the Sungs have a full-time or part-time nurse to look after their son? He was in quite bad shape, right? So unless they were changing his diaper and bathing him themselves, they would have needed professional help. Anyway, you should find out who she was, shouldn’t you?”
Commissioner Raja, however reluctantly, registered her point. She waited while he typed a quick message into his phone. But he put the subject away along with his phone.
“Look, Rosie. I know this must be very difficult for you. But please leave it to us this time. We’ll try to get the inspections done as quickly as possible and your restaurant can open again. I know there is nothing wrong with your kitchens but we have to follow the rules nonetheless, this is Singapore. It is not enough to just do the right thing, we have to let people see we are doing the right thing. Just think of this as a short holiday. In fact, why not go and take a trip somewhere? When was the last time you traveled out of Singapore? Go to England to visit Mathilda. Go and cook all her favorite dishes for her.”
Mathilda was always happy to see Aunty Lee. But leaving Singapore now felt like leaving the house with a pot of curry bubbling on the stove. It was not just the curry that might be spoiled. If it burned dry in the pot and caught fire, a whole lot more damage might be done.
“Aren’t you people supposed to tell me not to leave the country?”
“Rosie, don’t talk nonsense. I told you, you are not a suspect.”
“Everybody who was there that day is a suspect. Henry Sung just told me that even he is a suspect.”
“When did you talk to Henry Sung?” Commissioner Raja asked sharply.
“We ran into each other at a friend’s place. I get the feeling he believes Mabel killed herself but he’s too Christian to let himself think it consciously.” Aunty Lee broke off with a laugh at the expression on Commissioner Raja’s face. “What’s wrong? I can have lunch with you but I can’t talk to Henry Sung? I’m going to think you’re jealous!”
“Rosie, this is all confidential but I think it’s better you know than go blundering in deeper. It was Henry Sung who got your restaurant to be closed down. In his words, ‘Even if it was an accident you don’t want her to poison anybody else.’ The man has friends in high places. All retired. But around here the retired judges, retired ministers, are all still connected. There’s nothing on paper but they all still have a lot of influence. Their friend has just lost his wife and son. If they can make him feel better by closing you down, they won’t think twice. And they are all connected to the people in power now. All it takes is a word. And the second complaint was from his lady friend Doreen Choo. She could not say exactly what she was complaining about, and when we asked her to be more specific, Henry Sung put it all down for her.”
Now Aunty Lee understood Doreen Choo’s initial discomfort when they had talked. She must have thought Aunty Lee would learn she had agreed to play along with Henry’s plan.
“Are you all right, Rosie?”
“I think I need to go to a prayer and healing session.”
19
Prayer and Healing
Aunty Lee had always prided herself on staying happy by keeping busy. But back at the (sadly closed) café after lunch with the commissioner, it was not easy to find something to be busy with. Nina had already taken care of everything that could be cleaned, sorted, or recycled and was starting to look aimless herself.
“Maybe you should get a dog, ma’am.”
“You mean a guard dog? Why? Have there been break-ins again?”
“No, ma’am. But so many of the other maids . . .” Their politically correct employers might call them “domestic helpers” but the women referred to themselves and one another as “maids.” “Many of the other maids have dogs to walk in the morning and in the evening. Sometimes they even walk to the playground and have a picnic and listen to music. If you have a dog then I can take the dog and go with them.”
“I’m sure you can join them without a dog, Nina.”
“If I don’t have a dog then people will see and say I am wasting time. They will report me to the police and say I am loitering. But if I got a dog with me then I am dog walking,” Nina explained.
It made sense, Aunty Lee supposed, though it was hard on the dogs who ended up standing around while their human walkers talked rather than exercised.
“But what will you do with the dog when the café opens again?”
“We can bring the dog, ma’am. If it is a big dog it will be like a guard dog. And if it is a small dog people will say ‘so cute, so cute’ and then they will come in to shop and buy things.”
“Maybe I should give a party,” Aunty Lee said.
“Somebody else dies, we sure kenah arrested.”
“Maybe we can’t have guests in here, but we can still do outside catering, right?” Cherril said as she entered the shop. She was equally in search of occupation, Aunty Lee suspected. “And we can cook as long as we don’t serve. And we can sell food as long as we didn’t just make it in the kitchen. We should start making the Christmas and New Year treats and freeze them,” Cherril said. “In fact we can sell them frozen. Then people can take home and heat them up and feel that they did their own cooking.”
Aunty Lee felt even more fond of Cherril than she usually did, despite a twinge of guilt at the thought of Mathilda. She would make it up to Mathilda some other way. After all, the girl was on the other side of the world. Aunty Lee needed a kitchen companion in Singapore.
“Sorry you got involved in all this. I will understand if you want to pull out, you know.”
“Oh, not at all. I’m enjoying it, believe it or not. I like being part of a team. I know it sounds corny, but when I’m doing something on my own I can’t get as excited about it. It’s very easy to give up and say okay, not worth it, don’t sweat the small stuff, just move on to the next job. But like last time when I was part of a cabin crew, it was hard work and there were times when it was really tough and you can hate the people you are working with. But once I put on the uniform and put on the face, then it is like the show is on. I can play the part no matter how tired I am because I know what they expect me to be, so I can be good. And people expect Aunty Lee’s Delights to be good also. Don’t you know? Once people get you to cater for them, they know that their party is going to be a success. Even if the people there got nothing to talk about, they can always talk about the food. That’s why you can’t give up.”
Unasked, Nina put down a cup of hot lemongrass tea in front of Cherril. And she smiled.
“I got Mykie to look at the injunction again. It only says that you cannot prepare food until the kitchen here has been given the all clear. It doesn’t mean that you cannot cook in your house or even in my house, for that matter.”
The earnest young woman w
as trying to cheer Aunty Lee up and boost her morale, Aunty Lee realized. Her preoccupation with Mabel’s death must have made Cherril think she was depressed by the forced closure of the café kitchens. As if a little thing like that could get Aunty Lee down, given all the setbacks she had struggled through and triumphed over in more years than Cherril Lim-Peters could imagine! But she was touched that Cherril had tried. And there was Nina watching, uncharacteristically silent. It looked like Aunty Lee had made both Nina and Cherril worried.
“We should use this time to try out new recipes. And see how well things freeze and how to reheat them.”
Nina, who had had been listening, nodded approval. “But the freezer is full already. Where to keep all the food you make?”
“I’ll bring whatever we make to a prayer meeting I’m going to tonight,” Aunty Lee said. “If I don’t sell it, it is not counted as business, right? And if the other people are worried about the food they can pray over it before eating, then everybody happy.”
At the prayer and healing session that evening Aunty Lee remembered to say it was her knees that were giving her trouble. It was a good choice; she saw other members of the group nodding sympathetically. It appeared Mabel Sung had always led these sessions and now no one seemed willing to take her place. Neither Sharon nor Henry Sung was around. In the end the seven or eight “old fogies,” as they called themselves, had a “moment of silence” for Mabel and sat down to sample Aunty Lee’s goodies.
Aunty Lee plonked herself next to Doreen and listened as she nattered on. Her chatter was like the drizzle that the southeast monsoon winds brought to Singapore. There was not enough rain to make you stay under shelter or even open an umbrella. The light warm droplets were relentless but so small that you ended up damp rather than wet. Folk wisdom said going out in this kind of rain made people get sick. Aunty Lee, though, believed in vitamin C and germs rather than these superstitions. As Doreen’s stream of words continued, Aunty Lee’s mind was starting to feel damp. She blinked and shook her head slightly. Doreen paused and looked at her.
“My knees,” Aunty Lee said quickly. She changed her expression of polite interest into an exaggerated wince and massaged her knees. Knees were a safe option. Older people were always having problems with their knees, and since there was no practical solution, people were always ready to offer their theories.
Doreen brightened immediately. “You never said you had knee problems!” Her memory, thought Aunty Lee, needed as much help as her corneas.
“You know, with age . . .” Aunty Lee murmured vaguely. “I really don’t know what to do.”
“Oh, I know, I know. People always tell you, eat this, eat that, don’t eat this, don’t eat that. Or they tell you to exercise more or they tell you not to exercise at all. I tell you all that is rubbish. You think of your car when there is a part that breaks down. What do you do—you change the part, right? That is the only thing to do. This may sound like science fiction, Rosie, but it’s not. I didn’t believe it myself until Henry persuaded me to try it.”
“You had knee surgery?” Aunty Lee asked, really interested now. She could not recall Doreen disappearing on a “spa retreat” that was the usual cover story for face-lifts and chin tucks.
“Oh no. My knees are still okay, as long as I don’t walk too much or stand too long. I’m not like you, Rosie. I don’t know where you get the energy to run around all day. You should think about slowing down, you know. Men don’t like women who are always running around nonstop. I know you’ll say you’re not interested in such things, that it’s too late, but I tell you—as long as there’s life, there’s hope. Just the other day I was saying to Henry—”
“Did Henry have knee surgery?” Aunty Lee tried to steer the conversation back onto the course she wanted.
“Henry? What would he do that for? There’s nothing wrong with that man’s knees. He can play golf all day, no problem. I keep telling him to use those little carts that go around the green. Then I can go around with him and watch him play with his friends. But Henry says he prefers to walk. He says it’s the only form of exercise he gets. I mean, that’s fine with me. I’m not the sort of woman who has to stick close all the time. Men don’t like that kind of woman. You may think you are being loving when you want to spend time together but men see it as being stifled. That’s the word they use, ‘stifled.’”
Doreen paused, perhaps remembering an unfortunate occasion.
“You were telling me something about knee surgery,” Aunty Lee said with a faint touch of desperation.
“Was I? Oh yes. That’s right. The surgery. Sharon mentioned it to me the other day. I had been talking to Mabel about it and Mabel must have talked to her. Not knees, corneas.”
“Corneas?”
“You know, in your eyes. What you see with is your corneas. I was having so much trouble with cataracts and everything. I had to go and get my cataracts taken out. So terrible having such things growing in your eyes. Makes me think I’m really getting to be an old woman!”
Doreen paused and laughed, giving Aunty Lee a chance to contradict her. Dutifully, Aunty Lee fluttered in: “Doreen, who are you to talk about being an old woman! Don’t talk nonsense. Look at you—you’re still young!”
“I wouldn’t have done the operation otherwise. Other parts not such a big deal. But your eyes, you know . . . Anyway, since I was going to have the cataracts taken out, I thought I might as well get the corneas put in, right? Only one operation, everything done, right? Turns out I still cannot see perfectly. I thought I would be able to see far far, read close close, but no. Still got to wear reading glasses. Thought after all I paid, I would be able to get rid of wearing glasses forever! The operation is not cheap, you know. Of course I complained. I may be getting old but don’t think you can cheat me! Mabel just kept pretending not to hear me. I knew she was avoiding me. But that Sharon is a nice girl. In fact she just came and asked me did I want to go and do the operation again. She said since I was disappointed the first time they would give me a discount. I told her that after they botched the first operation they should do it for me this time for free!”
“Are you going to do the operation again?” Aunty Lee asked.
“That’s what Sharon asked. I said no. First time cost so much, I still cannot see properly, why would I go through all that whole business again?”
Finally, as Aunty Lee was on the verge of giving up and going home, Henry Sung and Sharon arrived, with Edmond Yong and GraceFaith in tow.
GraceFaith looked around the room and drifted to Aunty Lee’s side. “Your first time here? I don’t believe you’ve met Edmond Yong? He was poor Leonard’s doctor.”
GraceFaith was wearing a silky black dress. Aunty Lee thought it was probably a mourning tribute because GraceFaith did not look like the sort of girl to depend on a “little black dress.” There were flashes of color as she walked. Under the black floating skirt panels there was a bright orange underskirt. GraceFaith could keep up appearances when she had to, but why bother, when there was no point in it?
“Oh yes, I’ve met him,” Aunty Lee said. Then she saw GraceFaith was not listening.
In fact GraceFaith was on edge and displeased about something. She was still efficiently polite. After all, being nice to important old people was one of her greatest strengths and had got her where she was. However once she had anchored herself by Aunty Lee, she ignored her.
Fortunately Aunty Lee’s great strength was sniffing out notes that didn’t fit. Anyone can say something tastes good but only an expert nose can tell you why. And that’s the only sort of nose that is helpful when things go wrong. Aunty Lee could tell that whatever GraceFaith felt was wrong was anchored in Dr. Yong and Sharon. The two spent most of the evening moving among groups of people as though they were joint hosts. Aunty Lee wondered which of them GraceFaith was jealous or suspicious of—or was it both?
It looked as though it would be some time before they reached Aunty Lee. She heard several mentions of the Bu
kit Timah Plaza clinic as several of the group members asked where the new operating theater would be located. Apparently they were as in the dark as Aunty Lee.
“We’ll let you know,” Sharon said several times. “We’re still trying to set things up.”
Finally it was Aunty Lee’s turn. GraceFaith slipped away as Sharon and Dr. Yong approached Aunty Lee. It was not out of love that GraceFaith was watching them, Aunty Lee thought.
“Doreen says you’re having trouble with your knees?” Sharon asked.
“Oh yes. You know how it is, getting old. Very good of you to carry on what your mother started.”
Sharon smiled. “I’m just trying to continue what my mother did as she should have wanted.” There was a note of sarcasm in her voice that Aunty Lee couldn’t understand. Nor could she understand why Sharon was being so nice to Edmond Yong. The last time she had seen them together, Sharon had seemed to despise the man. “I’m so sorry to hear your shop’s been closed down.”
“You must understand the family is not blaming you for the tragedy,” Edmond Yong said. “But naturally they want to move on and put it behind them as fast as possible. If the police have to do a full investigation it is going to drag on and on . . . you know how these things go. No matter how it turns out, it’s not going to bring poor Mabel and Leonard back, right? And knowing Mabel, I’m sure we can all agree that she would want us to carry on with what she started.”
He spoke with the condescending fake enthusiasm of someone accustomed to dealing with stubborn preschoolers. The message conveyed was that as long as you did as you were told, you would get candy and be allowed to play with the rest of the group.
Aunty Lee sensed Edmond Yong enjoyed feeling power over people She wondered what hold he had over Sharon.
“Now that I can’t work, I might as well use the time to fix my knees. Can you help me?” Aunty Lee asked.
“There is a procedure that should help you, if your problem is what I think it is . . . knee pain when walking and standing for a while—”
