The Catherine Lim Collection (19 page)

The letter ended with more strident cries to
heed the Lord; Angela showed it to Mee Kin with amused exasperation, and then
crumpled it into a ball and let it go the way of the exhorting, pleading, threatening
pamphlets. “I wonder what Dorothy’s brother told him of the geomancer,” said
Angela, and then quickly became enthusiastic on a subject she had never stopped
talking about to her friends, since the astonishing results.

“Business has soared,” she exclaimed, eyes
brightening. “Almost immediately. You wouldn’t believe it. Boon and I are
trying to buy over all the shares so that we can have full management of the
restaurant. And I’m thinking of that reporter who wrote that nice article on
Mark’s 15th birthday party in the hotel, she could do a write-up on the cuisine
of our restaurant. We’re negotiating for an Indonesian cook to come over – a
top-rate cook from a leading hotel in Jakarta.”

The boutique in the Singapura Shopping
Arcade that was about to be opened – the geomancer had to come in here, too. He
was simply marvellous.

“That fool in Australia does not know the
real circumstances of the old one’s going to stay with Gloria,” said Angela
with some vehemence, recollecting the pains of negotiation. She and Boon had
sat down for a long talk with Mee Kin and Gloria. Gloria’s mother was going to
Canada for a three months’ vacation with her eldest daughter. The new house
would be ready by the time she returned, so the old one’s stay with Wee Nam and
Gloria would be only temporary. “I had to stress the temporary part of it,”
confided Angela. “Gloria was very reluctant, and I had to keep reminding her
that it was for only three months. After that, the old one can move to the new
house, to her separate wing. And don’t imagine it’s all plain sailing for me.
I’ve promised to go to Gloria’s house often, to pick Old Mother up for her
medical appointments, to bring food and whatever she needs. And do you know
I’ve actually engaged a servant, at my expense, to do the housework and regular
meals. Gloria could never afford a servant, so she’s really benefitting from
the arrangement.”

Both Wee Nam and Gloria had still appeared
unhappy – wasn’t that incredible? – after these arrangements.

“Do you know what Boon and I finally agreed
to do?” cried Angela with energetic triumph. “We pulled Wee Nam aside and told
him to forget all of it – that money owing to us. Twenty thousand, at least.
Imagine, the debt has been wiped off – just like that. That did the trick.”

“My poor children,” said Angela, in
vexation. “Especially Mark. How he suffered. He locked himself in his room for
days. And Michael. He actually fell ill. It was on Dr Wong’s orders that we had
to get the old one out of the way – at least for the time being. Otherwise, I
dread what would happen to the children.”

“So pathetic,” said Angela, who moved from
mood to mood with ease. Now her voice had softened to compassion. “When we took
her to Gloria’s house, she looked so lost, I really felt sorry for her. I
wouldn’t like to be in such a position in my old age. But what can we do?
Everything falls upon Boon and me. That Ah Tiong and Gek Choo have so neatly
extricated themselves from the situation. And of course, that maniacal son in
Australia is of no use.”

Angela bought a new bed for Old Mother and a
new cupboard; she went every day for a week to Gloria’s house to train the
servant and to see that all was well. She brought a huge tiffin-carrier of food
on the
first day.

When she returned home, there was another
letter from Australia.

Sister Angela – I would not be a worthy
member of the brotherhood to which the Lord ]esus Christ in His mercy has
called me, if I did not tell you, my dear Sister Angela –

Angela crumpled the letter into a tight ball
in her hand and dropped it into the wastepaper-basket.

“Mem,” said Aminah tearfully. She had
returned to work; her newest baby was three months old now.

No more wage advances, thought Angela warily.
She’s getting a little out of hand.

“Mem,” said the woman, and Angela wondered
how one who was barely a few years older than she was could look so old,
haggard, emaciated.

“Sharifah’s run away.”

“Why?” asked Angela sharply. “Is it her
father again? I thought I’d settled that.”

“No, mem,” said Aminah. “Her father hasn’t
gone near her since. But she went to stay with her boyfriend, and then
yesterday he came looking for her, for she told him she’d decided to return
home. But her identity card is missing, and we fear she’s run away.”

Angela sighed. One mess after another to be
cleared.

“Do you have any idea where she’s gone to?”
she asked. “Any relatives she could be staying with? Have you asked her
boyfriend?”

“We don’t know anything, mem,” whimpered the
woman.

“Perhaps we’d better let the police know,”
sighed Angela. Why had she taken on a washerwoman who was continually running
to her with problems? But her compassion did not allow her to turn anybody away
– not Aminah, not that drunken Muniandy and his wretched wife.

It occurred to her to ask Mooi Lan, for
sometimes she saw the girl talking to Sharifah while the latter was doing the
washing or ironing. Mooi Lan, with the departure of the old one, was slowly
regaining her vivacity and communicativeness. Mooi Lan knew.

Sharifah had confided that she was going to
work in a bar. The money was good. The life could be exciting.

“She came to see me once,” said Mooi Lan.
“She looked happier and really beautiful. I couldn’t recognise her. There was
somebody with her, a tall handsome-looking man.” Angela concluded there was
nothing to be done. She almost sighed with relief when Aminah came to see her a
week later, the thin worn face actually looking better from the smile that lit
it. “Sharifah’s working,” she said, “she brought money back for me and her
brothers and sisters. She promises to give us money every month.”

Angela was glad for the poor woman.

“Mum,” said Mark, and the absence of anger
in her son’s voice was balm to her heart. “Mum, I got through the Advanced
Preparatory Exams, and now I can go in for the Merit Exams. Mr Ong tells me
that only the top 5 per cent will be eligible for the Elite College that will
lead to Cambridge and Harvard.”

“Oh, that’s marvellous!” cried Angela,
radiant with delight. But she refrained from too much maternal enthusiasm, as
it always had the effect of making her son withdraw into reserve. She waited
for him to go on, ready to come in with appropriate comments, to express her
great love, without displeasing or embarrassing by excessive ardour. Mark told
her he was among the top in the exams.

“I’ve been following the plans for the Elite
College in the newspapers,” said Angela knowledgeably. “It seems it will be
built on that splendid piece of land in Grangefields, you know, the one that is
next to Grandfather’s cemetery. It seems they will clear the cemetery soon for
development to begin.”

The boy had little more to communicate
afterwards, but he looked better, happier. Mark told his father the news at
dinner-time that night, and the father was sufficiently buoyed by the good news
to suggest a family dinner in a restaurant the next day. “What a superb idea,”
said Angela enthusiastically. “Mikey’s sufficiently recovered to go, and
Michelle will like it, won’t you, darling?”

“Yes, Mum!” said the little girl obligingly.
Michael’s silence when Angela spoke about the celebratory dinner did nothing to
mar the happiness of the occasion.

“I do need more of such happy days,’ sighed
Angela to her husband as she prepared for bed that night. She looked at him,
this wonderful husband of hers, and she did not tell him that just a few days
ago, out of sheer coincidence, one of the regular coffee parties she had had
with Mee Kin had actually ended on a visit to Mrs Daisy Perez’s apartment. She
had caught a glimpse of her beautiful antique bed – and as she had suspected –
now cluttered with heaps of garish Thai silk cushions of various shapes. She
recollected the dream – those dreams – and she shivered.

But that, too, did not mar the happiness of
the day.

Poor Gloria, I do feel sorry for her, thought
Angela, as she paid one of her regular calls, and saw the girl, thin and pale
in the first months of pregnancy, emerge from her room. She stayed in her room
all the time now.

Who can blame her, with the old one
wandering about the house, muttering and still talking to the old man’s photo?
thought Angela.

She came regularly to ascertain that the
servant was doing her work; she brought cooked food and plenty of tinned stuff
for Gloria, and being informed of her pregnancy, made a mental note to get some
really pretty maternity dresses for her. There was nothing she wouldn’t do;
Gloria had removed the thorn from her side, if only temporarily. But who could
tell what would happen in the meantime?

Her visit coincided with that of Wee Tiong
and Gek Choo. The pair had felt it their duty, apparently, to call; this was
indeed their first visit to Gloria’s house. They brought along their little
boy, now much bigger and healthier looking, and gifts of biscuits and fruit.

“Call your foster-mother,” said Gek Choo to
the little one in her arms, in courteous deference to the sister-in-law whose
favour, no matter how grudgingly sought for, had brought about this happy
result. The baby turned away shyly, Angela took him into her arms, but soon
returned him to Gek Choo, for he had begun to cry.

Old Mother, looking thinner and much older,
had the ubiquitous ang-pow of goodwill; she tucked it into the waistline of the
baby’s pants with the usual good wishes.

Angela spoke to Gloria extensively, trying
to piece together a picture of the state of affairs now that Old Mother was
there. The picture was not a very comforting one – but what could be done?

Wee Nam was away most of the time now. He
seemed to be feverishly exploring one business opportunity after another. First
it was goldfish, then orchids, then he wanted to go in on computer parts, and
the latest was that he was teaming up with someone to start an agency for
hiring domestic servants from the Philippines, Indonesia and Sri Lanka. Hearing
about the high wages of domestics in Singapore, the foreign women, young and
middle-aged and some with diplomas and even University degrees, were flocking
to Singapore to seek employment. Wee Nam felt there was a lot of money to be
made there.

“I’m alone most of the time,” said Gloria.
She need not have added, “I’m lonely and miserable,” for her eyes, her
thinness, the nervousness with which she avoided the direct gaze, spoke it.
Poor girl, thought Angela.

The servant cooked for them; Gloria and Old
Mother used to eat together, but Gloria had taken to eating in her room. She
never came out, except to meet visitors or to do the needful. It was not only
Old Mother whose presence made her feel uneasy; it was the possibility of her
meeting the idiot one, for he had come on a few occasions to see Old Mother,
and once, while Gloria was praying in front of the altar to the Virgin Mary
saying her daily rosary, she felt a presence behind her, turned, and saw the
idiot grinning at her and about to touch the statuette of Our Lady and the
sacred Heart of Jesus on the altar. She ran into her room and shut herself in.

And the photo of the old man.

The altar was in the old one’s room; she had
to pass the room to reach the toilet, and no matter how hard she tried to avert
the gaze, she invariably saw the small piercing eyes, the stiff wispy beard
jutting out on the thin chin. Old Mother spoke to the photograph often, Gloria
stopped her ears, ran to the toilet and ran back, panting.

And, she confided to Angela, when Wee Tiong
and Gek Choo had left, the pleasant dreams of herself with her sisters in
Canada and Australia had disappeared and had made way for those frightful
coffin and temple dreams. “I use the holy water of Lourdes every night, and I
have my rosary, but they still come,” whimpered Gloria.

Angela decided there and then, out of pity
for the poor tormented girl, that the stay would last no more than two months,
the time given by the contractors for the completion of the new house.

“Wee Siong sends me these pamphlets, I
hardly read them,” said Gloria, showing Angela a whole stack of the materials.

“I don’t read them either, just ignore them,
throw them away,” said Angela. “Now you listen, Gloria. I know this is not an
easy time for you. You are pregnant and the first few months can be quite bad.
I had a bad time with Michael, especially. But you will go through it bravely,
won’t you? After all, as you can see, Boon and I have done our best. Since Wee
Nam has been freed of this loan to his brother, he can now have more money for
business or whatever he wishes to do. And you have Ah Choo to do all the
housework for you. I shall come regularly to take Old Mother to the oculist and
physiotherapist and you can always ring me up if there’s anything to be done.
You don’t need to do a thing. All Boon and I are asking is a place to put the
old one while waiting for the new house to be ready. And that will take no
longer than two months. Those stupid contractors have promised me that, and
they’d better keep their promise. You know that mother can’t go back to her old
house any more; everything is in a mess there and I went to scold that
irresponsible Ah Kum Soh for turning it into a gambling den, but I won’t be
surprised if she’s gone back to her old tricks. Anyway, Old Mother’s health is
not good, and I won’t feel easy about her there with that woman and her idiot
son. And don’t worry about that idiot. Ignore him totally. He means no harm
really. You know that that stingy, calculating Wee Tiong and his wife can’t
take in the old one. They will remain in that miserable flat of theirs, as long
as they can, to make it impossible for the old one to move in. And of course,
they’ve now cooked up all this nonsense about their baby son’s star clashing
with Old Mother’s, or some such superstition. Notice it doesn’t clash with
mine. So Gloria, I beg you to be patient. Do your duty for another two months
and then I’ll take over the entire responsibility.”