by Ovidia Yu
CHAPTER TWO
Aunty Lee’s Delights
‘All residents are encouraged to report any suspicious persons to the authorities immediately.’
‘Turn off the radio,’ Aunty Lee grumbled. ‘Frighten people for nothing, only.’
Normally, Aunty Lee loved public service crime announcements, but not when she had just been reported as a ‘suspicious person’ herself.
Obligingly, Panchal turned off the car radio.
‘You were telling them one of your friends got burglarized?’
‘My friend, Helen Chan. They took her jewellery, a television, and two computers!’
But even Helen’s losses didn’t interest Aunty Lee very much today.
‘Did you have home security put in? You should think about it, you know.’
Aunty Lee shrugged. The most precious things in her house were the photo portraits of her late husband she had in every room. Housebreakers were hardly likely to take them, and even if they did, Nina had digital copies of all the images. Aunty Lee appreciated Nina even when she was cross with her. And she had not given up yet.
‘Here we are,’ Panchal said, pulling up across the road from Aunty Lee’s Delights.
Nina was watering the row of potted plants in front of the shop. Their branches were heavy with tiny green limes, the larger limau purut or kaffir limes, kumquats, and chillies in various shades of red to be plucked as needed. Until then, they provided good feng shui.
A familiar car was parked in front of the ‘no parking’ sign.
‘Shouldn’t you fine them for parking in front of the fire hydrant?’ Aunty Lee asked hopefully.
‘I’ll leave that to the traffic wardens.’ SS Panchal knew the car belonged to Aunty Lee’s stepson, Mark, and his wife, Selina. Like almost everyone else except Aunty Lee herself, Panchal preferred to stay clear of Mrs Selina Lee.
Selina was expecting her first child, and stressing over what schools and colleges he or she should someday apply for had made her even more tense and terrifying.
Nina stared at the police car, looking worried. She had been looking worried a lot lately, Aunty Lee thought, feeling a stab of guilt. Well, once Nina was safely married to her policeman she would be happy again. And she would thank Aunty Lee.
‘You went to the police post?’ Nina asked suspiciously after Panchal drove off. She could not bring herself to ask if her boss had spoken to Salim.
‘I found daun kesum!’ Aunty Lee held up her leaves like a peace offering. ‘The construction people finally took down the hoarding over the drain and I saw the plants, so big already, so I went and grabbed. We must make a laksa special today! I invited people to come and eat! China people, I think. Must let them try real Singapore laksa!’
Nina Balignasay was the opposite of Aunty Lee in many ways. Aunty Lee was a fair, plump, busybody while Nina was thin, dark and wished everyone would mind their own business as she herself preferred to do. She was not, however, as skinny as she had been when she first came to work for Aunty Lee and her late husband all those years ago. Whatever the complications of working with Aunty Lee, she was as generous with food as with her advice. And Nina was no longer the scared, inept girl who had arrived hopeless at something as simple as separating egg yolks from whites. Now she was competent in the kitchen, powerful on the computer, and financially stable. She knew how much she owed Aunty Lee but she was not going to listen to her and let Salim destroy his future.
‘Master Mark and Madam Selina are here.’
‘Alamak,’ Aunty Lee groaned dramatically.
Nina knew Aunty Lee found Selina entertaining rather than offensive.
‘Silly-Nah is just Silly lah!’ was one of Aunty Lee’s favourite sayings. But with Mark and Selina expecting a baby, Aunty Lee was on her best behaviour. Her stepdaughter, Mathilda, had two children who Aunty Lee adored. But Mathilda and her family lived in the UK, well out of range of any culinary grand-mothering. Aunty Lee fully intended to be involved with the new grandbaby when it arrived.
The front entrance was locked since Aunty Lee’s Delights was officially closed on Mondays. Regulars in search of food knew to go round to the kitchen entrance, as Aunty Lee did now.
Inside, the industrial sized cooker set on low was simmering and scenting the air with a promise of cloves, peppercorns, tender curried chicken, and soft spicy potatoes. Aunty Lee could hear Cherril’s voice but there was no sign of Avon and Xuyie. The girls were in Singapore as students and there was a limit to the hours they were allowed to work. But Xuyie often hung around the kitchen even when she was not on duty. She seemed genuinely interested in Singapore food and enthusiastic about practising English. Avon on the other hand preferred to go out dressed in short skirts and high heels.
Aunty Lee’s Delights specialized in brunches, lunches, and high teas. In the old days Aunty Lee had simply put up a ‘Closed’ sign when she was booked to handle the catering for a party. Her husband had left her sufficiently well provided for, and the café had been started more as an outlet for her love of cooking (Aunty Lee had been selling pandan and peach cakes, pineapple tarts, and fried curry puffs out of her kitchen) than as a business venture. Indeed the late M. L. Lee had liked to joke that while other husbands had to buy their wives diamonds and Prada he had to buy his Rosie dishwashers and pan holders. Not that he had seemed to mind. He had been very proud of her.
Now Cherril was actively pursuing catering jobs and talking about buying advertising in lifestyle magazines. A recent attempt at franchising hadn’t worked out, but that hadn’t kept her down for long. Aunty Lee liked Cherril. Since they’d got to know each other over the murder of Cherril’s sister-in-law they had become closer than Aunty Lee was to Mathilda or Silly-nah.
Still she found Cherril’s youthful energy tiring at times. Aunty Lee knew she must have once been as young, but she could not remember ever having been as eager. She was certainly not as eager now.
Cherril had her mobile phone clamped between ear and shoulder saying: ‘No … I mean, yes, of course. But are you sure? Yes. Of course but …’ as she made notes on her iPad. Seeing Aunty Lee, she rolled her eyes and jerked her head in the direction of the dining room, warning her they had visitors.
The spicy fragrance of a good chicken curry … especially one cooked in Aunty Lee’s rich, golden gravy … should have been enough to make anybody feel good but Cherril looked ill. She had taken on a job catering a high tea for a friend that afternoon and, from the tension in her voice, Aunty Lee could tell the news was not good.
But then again, Selina might have just said something to upset her. Cherril had been a stewardess on Singapore’s premier airline before her marriage and was trained to deal with emergencies ranging from drunks and heart attacks to babies and food allergies without smudging her mascara, but even she was not immune to Selina Lee.
‘Don’t worry, lah,’ Aunty Lee whispered to Cherril as she passed her. Even if Cherril’s plans for expansion didn’t work out, Aunty Lee would still have her little café shop – and the best traditional home-cooked Peranakan food in Singapore.
Aunty Lee put her kesum leaves in a glass bowl which she placed on a shelf inside the cool room. Aunty Lee loved her cool room. Mark had installed it for wine during his (failed) attempt at running a wine business. Now it stored all the ingredients that did not need refrigeration but could not survive long in Singapore’s hot, humid environment. Aunty Lee thought the cool room was one of the best things Mark had ever done. Backing out of the room as she carefully pulled the door shut behind her, Aunty Lee yelped as she bumped into someone.
‘We’ve been waiting for you.’ Selina was smiling but her eyes remained aggressive. ‘I was hoping to have a word with Nina first, but she disappeared outside somewhere when I tried to talk to her. She’s so shy, isn’t she?’
Aunty Lee knew Nina was not at all shy. She also knew Selina usually ignored Nina unless she was telling Aunty Lee off for paying Nina too much (‘Spoiling the market’) or giving her too much
freedom (‘You let her use your computer, you let her drive your car … you don’t know what she’s getting up to!’) But Aunty Lee reminded herself of the coming baby and said: ‘Hello. Have you eaten yet?’ It was her way of saying nothing.
‘Hi,’ was all Mark said as he followed his wife into the kitchen.
‘I want to talk to you. It’s about the nursery school we are helping to set up,’ Selina said. ‘I need some help.’
‘What nursery school?’ Aunty Lee winced and steeled herself for another of Mark’s moneymaking schemes. Since M. L. Lee left the bulk of his estate to Aunty Lee, Mark and Selina had already persuaded her to finance several disastrous projects. But as Aunty Lee was intending to divide her own money between her two stepchildren, she thought it unfair to Mathilda to continue. Mark and Selina had already ‘borrowed’ far more than his share.
‘If you want money you have to talk to Darren.’ Darren Sim had been M. L. Lee’s investment officer at the bank. Aunty Lee had inherited his services along with her husband’s money. ‘I cannot invest any money without talking to Darren.’ Aunty Lee had already told Darren to say ‘No’ to any investments Mark came up with.
‘We’re not asking for your money!’ Selina snapped in her usual voice. Mark looked worried and started to say something, but Selina put a firm hand on his arm and reassembled the smile on her face. ‘We need your help with a problem, that’s all.’
‘Of course we will come and help you, Silly-Nah!’ Aunty Lee loved solving other people’s problems almost as much as she loved cooking, which was saying a lot. Friends and customers often brought her little puzzles and conundrums. As the late M. L. Lee had said, his ‘kiasu, kaypoh, em zhai se’ (tireless, fearless busybody) little wife was happiest when digging clues out of problems and marrow out of bones.
Of course, not everybody appreciated Aunty Lee’s advice. Indeed, Selina had described Aunty Lee’s previous attempts to help as ‘bossy interference’. This was the first time Selina had come to her for help, and Aunty Lee intended to enjoy it properly,
‘Come and sit down with me in the dining room. Tell me about your nursery school. How can we help?’
‘I don’t need you, just Nina. I want to borrow Nina for a few days. For a couple of weeks, at most. Just until Beth’s maid turns up or she gets a replacement from the agency.’
Nina had come in and was silently slicing and deseeding tomatoes. She looked up on hearing her name. Selina threw her one of what Aunty Lee called her ‘condensed milk’ smiles (thick, sticky, and over sweetened), and Nina looked alarmed.
‘Nina, my friend Beth’s maid disappeared two days ago. The early education nursery school we’re setting up is going to be run out of her house. It’s a very bad time right now because of all the renovations going on and deliveries and workers, and we need to get everything ready in time to show parents to get them to sign up for next year. Aunty Lee is always saying how much you helped her set up this place, right? Beth just needs somebody to clean up the mess and be there to keep an eye on the workers.’ Selina turned back to Aunty Lee. ‘I told her that Nina has been working for the family for years and is completely reliable. Look, I never ask you for favours. Don’t let me down.’
‘Hiyah, Silly. Your baby not even born yet. Why are you already worrying about what school to send it to? Anyway, Singapore got so many schools, what for want to start your own?’
‘Selina isn’t just trying to get our baby into KidStarters, she’s helping to set it up,’ Mark explained. ‘She’s one of the partners, and she’s going to be on the school board. We were considering homeschooling but there isn’t really a homeschooling network in Singapore. This way it will be like homeschooling only other people will be paying for it!’
‘We were looking at value-adding nursery schools when I met Beth Kwuan, and she told me she was setting up a playschool. Mark asked her whether it was going to be one of those Montessori places, and Beth said that in an environment as competitive as Singapore there’s no point wasting time on playing. Right from the start, while children’s minds are still open, they should learn to learn by learning! Otherwise how are they going to get ahead and stay ahead? They need to learn self-discipline and how to obey rules!’
From the fervent respect in Selina’s voice, Aunty Lee suspected she longed to have attended such a school herself.
‘Beth and I agreed on all points. I’m going to help set up the curriculum. Beth knows the Singapore education system inside out. She’s been a private tutor to the top students from all the best schools in Singapore, including the Anglo Chinese School and the Raffles Institution. I’ve been researching the psychology of gifted children, and how to support them and teach them to create safety boundaries. Gifted children are often sensitive and get bullied … like Mark was, for example … and it’s very important for them to learn to create boundaries. Of course we will have to make sure the parents are going to commit to this also. Children can start as soon as they are toilet-trained, so children who learn faster can start earlier.’
‘And Beth has got a native Mandarin speaker to set up the Chinese syllabus. You can’t start learning languages too soon. You know how much students here are always having trouble with Mandarin, right? Well, we won’t waste time with stories and conversation, we’ll just teach them to take exams! Instead of children’s storybooks they’ll take assessment quizzes for fun!’
It sounded terrible to Aunty Lee. She did not remember any of the lessons studied in school but she had fond memories of jokes and games and sweets passed around during boring classes. And some of her closest friends now were friends she had made then. None of them would have found assessment quizzes fun.
‘Who is this friend of yours? This Beth woman? What happened to her helper? Some people treat their helpers very badly, you know, work them non-stop and don’t give them enough to eat. If she abused her helper until she ran away, you shouldn’t go into business with her! Next thing you know she is getting arrested and you are in the newspapers trying to cover your face!’
‘Of course she didn’t abuse her helper!’ Selina raised her voice. ‘She told me that the maid had a boyfriend and, when Beth stopped her from seeing him, she ran away.’
‘Did your friend report it to the police? Aiyoh, if she ran away with the boyfriend, maybe she got pregnant; your friend is going to lose her deposit!’
Selina waved Aunty Lee’s deposit worries away and turned her focus back on Nina.
‘Nina, I need your help for a few days. I told my friend that you can speak English, you can handle workmen, and you can be trusted with money. You can be trusted, right?’
‘Of course, Madam.’ Nina’s words were automatic but cautious. ‘But Aunty Lee needs me here. I cannot leave Aunty alone. If I go to help your friend, Aunty will be alone by herself in the house at night. Old people should not be alone at night. If she falls down at night, then nobody will know.’
‘We’ll come and check in on her—’ Mark began, but was cut off by his wife.
‘Aunty Lee is not that old,’ Selina interrupted. ‘My mother is older, and she’s so independent she doesn’t even want my father in the room at night—’
But they were both drowned out by Aunty Lee. Aunty Lee was only slower off the start because her indignation needed time to swell up to full force at being lumped in with ‘old people’. Her eyesight and hearing might have slightly weakened over the years, but her sense of smell and taste were still sharper than most women half her age!
‘I never fall down!’ Aunty Lee spluttered like chilli oil in a hot pan. ‘My father always told people I am as agile as a mountain goat!’ That was true, though said over fifty years ago by her fond father who was now long dead.
‘Madam, you remember you fell down that time? For so long you had to walk with that stick … ’
In fact the walking stick from that fall was by Aunty Lee’s chair now, though her ankle was quite recovered. She had discovered that walking with a stick meant nice people gave way to y
ou in queues. Plus, if they didn’t, you could use your stick to push them aside. Aunty Lee picked it up and thumped it on the floor for emphasis.
‘That was not at night, what! That was a workplace accident! Anyway, you young people have workplace accidents all the time! More often than us old people! Is that why you don’t want to leave me to get married? Because you think I am old?’
‘I never say you are old, Madam.’ Too late Nina saw her mistake. ‘Just older than me. That’s why you need me in the house to make tea for you at night. And to help you in the shop in the daytime.’
‘I can make my own tea. I was making my own tea before you were born!’ Aunty Lee huffed. That did not really help her case, but sounded too good to waste. ‘If you want to go and help Selina’s friend then go and help them. Don’t worry about me, I don’t need you!’
‘It’s just until Beth’s maid turns up or she arranges to get someone else to help,’ Mark said comfortingly. ‘And we’ll check to make sure Aunty Lee is all right.’ He patted Aunty Lee on the arm and nodded encouragingly to Nina. ‘Why don’t we try this for one week and see how it goes?’
None of the women paid any attention to him.
‘Where does this friend of yours live, anyway? What’s her full name? What does her husband do? Did she report to the police that her maid is missing yet? What’s her maid’s name? Where is she from?’
‘Her maid’s name is Julietta, from the Philippines, I think. Beth lives in Jalan Kakatua, in the Bukit Batok area. She’s not married. It’s her family house that she’s renovating for KidStarters. I met Julietta there once, and she looked fine to me. If anything I think Beth treated her too well, gave her too much freedom, that’s why she got so spoilt. Beth said that she told her to stay at home to wait for a delivery when she had planned to go out with her boyfriend, and Julietta got angry and ran away.’
