Then
Ket Siong’s phone started ringing again as he left the Vietnamese restaurant with the takeaway he’d promised Renee. The thought of her waiting for him in his room sent excitement shivering over his skin.
He’d already gone by her flat and picked up her things—her favourite trainers, jeans, a top and a jumper she often wore, sweatshirt and tracksuit bottoms for sleeping in. He fumbled in his coat pocket for his phone, trying not to drop anything.
It was a private number calling, again. Strange. Maybe it was important. Ket Siong accepted the call.
“Siong?” said his brother’s voice. “You OK? You didn’t pick up earlier.”
Ket Siong blinked. “I didn’t realise it was you. Did you change your number?”
“Oh. No, I just changed the settings,” said Ket Hau. “Can you speak? Are you at home?”
“I’m walking back to my place,” said Ket Siong. He checked his watch. It was two a.m. in Malaysia. There was a kick of worry low in his gut. “Is everything OK?”
There was a pause on the line.
“You probably shouldn’t be on your phone if you’re outside,” said Ket Hau.
“No one would want my phone,” said Ket Siong accurately. That was one of the chief benefits of having a phone whose most advanced feature was the game Snake.
But he stopped outside an off-licence, ducking under a canopy sheltering boxes of withered-looking fruit and veg.
“What’s going on?” he said. “Is it Ma?”
“Ma’s fine,” said Ket Hau, too quickly. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t get to sleep, and I thought you’d be done with classes.” He paused. “Ma’s planning to call you tomorrow, but I wanted to speak to you first. She’s pretty upset.”
“What happened?”
“You know this issue Ma’s been dealing with at work,” said Ket Hau. “The dodgy client she reported for money laundering?”
“Yes.”
“The firm’s let her go.”
Cans of grass jelly drink rattled as Ket Siong put his bags on the ground. “They fired her for whistleblowing?”
“They told her if she withdrew her report about the company, she could keep her job,” said Ket Hau.
He didn’t need to say how Ma had responded. Ket Siong had been raised by her, too.
He knew why his brother had called him, despite the late hour. He was braced for bad news, so it didn’t surprise him when Ket Hau said:
“There’s more. Ma doesn’t want me to tell you this part. But I think you need to know.”
It’s fine, Ket Siong prepared himself to say, even as his hopes of finishing his degree crumbled into dust. No more Royal Academy, no more performing career in one of the greatest cities in the world.
Who was he to complain? To have got as far as he had was an unimaginable privilege. Part of him had always feared Fate wouldn’t let him get away with chasing so selfish an ambition.
Ket Hau said, “Before the firm told her they were firing her, Ma got a call. Private ID, caller didn’t give his name. He threatened Ma. Said if she tried to go public with her allegations, she’d face consequences. The caller mentioned Pa, talked about you and me. He knew a lot about us.” Ket Hau paused. “Ma hasn’t said it in so many words, but she thinks Goh Kheng Tat is behind it.”
The name sounded familiar. “Goh Kheng Tat?”
“He’s the guy who owns the dodgy company,” said Ket Hau. “Only Ma would take on a guy like that. There have been whispers about Chahaya Group forever—not only whispers, there was that big lawsuit a few years back. But nobody’s been able to make anything stick. Goh Kheng Tat is too entrenched. If he goes down, a lot of people will be in trouble.”
It was cold, but Ket Siong had stopped noticing it. He stared at the street in front of him, unseeing.
It would be a big win for Chahaya, Renee had said, talking about why her father wanted her to marry Andrew. Meaning the company her father had founded.
Her father. Goh Kheng Tat.
“The client is Chahaya?” Ket Siong said, in the impossible hope that he had somehow misheard.
“A Malaysian subsidiary,” said Ket Hau. “They’re firing Ma to placate Goh Kheng Tat. He told them, ‘Either you get rid of her, or you lose my business.’”
“He’s that important?” Ket Siong had known Renee’s family was wealthy, but he’d never really thought about what that meant. That they were powerful, that it would be a bad idea to cross them.
Ket Hau sighed. “The problem is, it’s not just Goh Kheng Tat. It’s whoever he’s doing this for. Chahaya is doing well, there’s no reason they need to dabble in this kind of shady business. Ma thinks he’s doing it as a favour for one of his connections. He’s got friends high up in government, people you don’t want to piss off. That’s why the firm’s sacrificing Ma. She’s the scapegoat.”
Ket Siong felt a seizing in his chest, a precursor to the greater pain he could see bearing down on him. “She’s only trying to do the right thing.”
“It’s broken her heart,” said Ket Hau. “But the thing she’s most upset about…” His voice trailed off. He was struggling to say this next bit.
“It may not be as bad as she thinks,” he said finally. “You’ve got your bursary, and I’ve got some savings. Not much, but it should help. The Royal Academy has a hardship fund, I saw on their website. We could look into that. And there are loans we could apply for.”
“We are not applying for loans,” said Ket Siong. Money had been tight after his father’s death, and Ma hadn’t quite paid off the debt they’d accumulated then when his grandmother’s health had started declining. When Ah Poh had passed, after a long illness, she’d left more bills to be settled. Ma had insisted on going private for her care, no expense spared.
“Siong…”
“I’ll come back and finish my degree in Malaysia,” said Ket Siong. “I’ve only got a year left. I can get a job.”
Ket Hau must have rung to prepare him for this, so he would have got over the worst of his distress by the time Ma spoke to him. But now Ket Siong had accepted the inevitable, it was Ket Hau who seemed determined to resist.
“We can’t give up so easily,” he said. “You’ve worked so hard. I was looking at jobs just now. If I could get a government affairs role at a corporate, that would be a big jump in pay. That’s basically what I do anyway, lobbying.” He laughed.
“No,” said Ket Siong firmly. “I’ll come back. It’s fine.” He meant it.
Ten minutes ago, having to leave London without finishing his degree would have been the most devastating thing he could imagine, short of something happening to his mother and brother. Now, it barely registered.
He would feel it later, no doubt—the sudden collapse of the dream that had dominated his life. For now, though, he was possessed with the other thing he had to do. The harder thing, by far.
“I’ll tell Ma I spoke to you,” Ket Hau said. “She’ll probably want to talk to you in the morning. Most likely it’ll be around midnight your time, will you still be up?”
“Yes. No. It doesn’t matter,” said Ket Siong, hardly knowing what he was saying. “Ma can call whenever. Ko, I have to go.”
He looked down at the collection of bags at his feet. Through the opening of a tote bag, he glimpsed the cream wool of the jumper he’d taken out of Renee’s wardrobe. It felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach.
“I’m late,” he said.
His voice sounded funny to him, but his brother didn’t seem to notice.
“You go,” said Ket Hau. “Siong, you’ll know this, but you can’t tell anybody about this mess. It’s sickening having to keep these bastards’ secrets, but if anybody finds out, Ma will be in even worse trouble.”
“I know,” said Ket Siong.
Ket Siong thought—half feared, half hoped—that what he’d learnt about Renee’s father might somehow bleed into how he felt about her. That the anger and revulsion rising in his throat when he thought about how Ma had been treated might make it easier to do what he had to do. But then he opened the door to his room and Renee lifted her head, smiling.
She was sitting on his bed with her legs crossed, fully clothed, with one of his books—a text on Renaissance music—propped open in her lap. Ket Siong knew then that it didn’t matter who her father was and never would.
To him. But his feelings weren’t important.
Renee wasn’t responsible for anything her father had done. She wouldn’t know anything about it. But she was her father’s daughter, as strained and thorny as that relationship was. Ket Siong was his mother’s son. That was all there was to it.
“You took your time,” said Renee, but she wasn’t mad. Her eyes were mischievous, as if she knew how desperate he’d been to get back to her.
Up till now, Ket Siong had been preoccupied with how bad this was making him feel. For the first time, it came home to him how much it was going to hurt Renee—and that was going to be the worst part, the part that would stay with him for the rest of his life.
Ket Siong put down the stuff he was carrying, bending to unknot the takeaway bag. He’d give Renee her dinner and her things and send her away. He’d say something had come up. A last-minute deadline, or…
“What did you get?” said Renee. She was standing right by him.
When he straightened up, she raised her face as if for a kiss, the movement as natural and instinctive as that of a plant turning towards the sun. She checked herself, blushing.
Ket Siong’s heart felt dead in his chest, but at this it gave an anguished thump.
Renee was smiling—shy, but wrenchingly sure of him. He saw her arrive at a decision. She reached up, but Ket Siong dodged before she could take her kiss.
He found his dinner and drink, extracted them from the plastic bag and set them on his desk. He held the takeaway bag with Renee’s portion in it out to her. She took it from him.
The light had gone out of her face. He couldn’t look at her.
“I got your keys from the concierge,” said Ket Siong. “And your shoes.” He nodded at the takeaway bag. “I ordered you the lemongrass pork. You can take it home.”
“Ket Siong,” said Renee. “What’s wrong?”
There would be no giving of excuses, no letting her down gently.
“It was a mistake,” said Ket Siong. “Earlier. We shouldn’t have… I think it’s better if you go home.”
“I don’t understand.” Renee looked bewildered. “Did something happen?”
“I have to go back,” Ket Siong blurted. “This summer.”
“To Malaysia? What about your studies?”
Ket Siong didn’t answer, busying himself with the bags containing Renee’s stuff. When Renee said, “Did something happen with your family?” he only nodded.
He pulled her trainers out and laid them on the floor.
“I’m so sorry,” said Renee. “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.” She paused. “Is that why you’ve—why you think it was a mistake, when we—I thought you wanted to.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” said Ket Siong quickly. “I just think it’s better if we don’t… if we leave it there.”
“OK.” Renee was pale. She said tentatively, “Do you want to talk about what happened with your family?”
“ No, ” said Ket Siong.
She flinched as though he’d slapped her.
He was messing this up. It was impossible to think with Renee staring at him like that. He had to get her out of his room.
“I have things I’ve got to do,” he said. “Do you mind…?”
What he was most afraid of was that Renee would see through him. If she pressed, even a little, he might give way, regardless of all his resolutions to do the right thing.
Because this was the right thing for her as well as for him, even if it didn’t feel like it. If her family thought Andrew Yeoh was a good prospect, they were not going to accept Yap Ket Siong as a substitute. He knew how much their opinion mattered to her. He might wish it mattered less, but how could things be otherwise?
For all that their families were polar opposites, at the end of the day, it was for Renee as it was for him. Family was a bond that could be stretched or twisted, resisted or negotiated, but it could not be severed.
She would make the same decision, if she knew the full story. But that didn’t make Ket Siong feel any better. He couldn’t tell her the full story. He’d promised his brother. He had to keep his family safe.
To his relief, Renee said, “I’ll get out of your hair.” She sounded lost, but when he glanced at her despite himself, she rallied, trying for a smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow at Pret?”
Ket Siong recognised this as an out. A chance to pretend nothing had happened, to go back to how they were before.
It was more of an out than Renee realised. It would be straightforward to do a slow fade on her from there—stop turning up for meetups, ignore her texts. But she deserved better from him.
The idea was unbearable anyway. Ket Siong needed to make a clean break, so he could lick his wounds in peace.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
If it were Renee saying these things to Ket Siong, after what had passed between them, he would have slunk home with his tail between his legs. He would have hung his head and never raised it again.
But Renee was made of stronger stuff. She said, her voice hardly trembling, “Why not? Do you not want to hang out anymore?”
Ket Siong repeated, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
He sounded like a robot that had broken down and could only repeat the single line it had been programmed with. He felt like a broken-down robot. There must be more he could offer her, something he could do that would make this less awful, but his mind was blank.
“Right.” Renee lifted her chin. “You can’t blame a girl for asking.”
Her tone was light, though there were tears in her eyes. Ket Siong had never loved her more.
“I’ll get going,” she said.
Ket Siong glanced at the window. It was dark outside. He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he said, “I’ll come with you.”
“No,” said Renee. Her voice was gentle, but she now seemed infinitely distant, removed. “Let’s not do that.”
“You should get a cab. Don’t walk home.”
Renee had put down the takeaway while she pulled on her trainers. Her face twisted.
If she cried, thought Ket Siong, he would have to hug her. No one could blame him for that.
But she didn’t cry.
“Don’t worry, Ket Siong,” she said. “I’ll sort myself out.” She took her keys and her clothes and the bún bowl and the can of grass jelly drink he’d got her, and headed off alone into the night.